King Lear's Wife; The Crier by Night; The Riding to Lithend; Midsummer-Eve Part 3

The owlets in roof-holes Can sing for themselves; The smallest brown squirrel Both scampers and delves; But a baby does nothing-- She never knows how-- She must hark to her mother Who sings to her now.

Sleep then, ladykin, peeping so; Hide your handies and ley lei lo.

_She bends over HYGD and kisses her; they laugh softly together._

_LEAR parts the curtains of the door at the back, stands there a moment, then goes away noiselessly._

The lish baby otter Is sleeky and streaming, With catching bright fishes, Ere babies learn dreaming; But no wet little otter Is ever so warm As the fleecy-wrapt baby 'Twixt me and my arm.

Sleep big mousie....

HYGD, _suddenly irritable._ Be quiet.... I cannot bear it.

_She turns her head away from GONERIL and closes her eyes._

_As GONERIL watches her in silence, GORMFLAITH enters by the door beyond the bed. She is young and tall and fresh-coloured; her red hair coils and crisps close to her little head, showing its shape. Her movements are soft and unhurried; her manner is quiet and ingratiating and a little too agreeable; she speaks a little too gently._

_GONERIL, meeting her near the door and speaking in a low voice._ Why did you leave the Queen? Where have you been?

Why have you so neglected this grave duty?

GORMFLAITH.

This is the instant of my duty, Princess: From midnight until now was Merryn's watch.

I thought to find her here: is she not here?

_HYGD turns to look at the speakers; then, turning back, closes her eyes again and lies as if asleep._

GONERIL.

I found the Queen alone. I heard her cry your name.

GORMFLAITH.

Your anger is not too great, Madam; I grieve That one so old as Merryn should act thus-- So old and trusted and favoured, and so callous.

GONERIL.

The Queen has had no food since yester-night.

GORMFLAITH.

Madam, that is too monstrous to conceive: I will seek food--I will prepare it now.

GONERIL.

Stay here: and know, if the Queen is left again, You shall be beaten with two rods at once.

_She picks up the cup and goes out by the door beyond the bed._

_GORMFLAITH turns the chair a little away from the bed so that she can watch the far door, and, seating herself, draws a letter from her bosom._

GORMFLAITH, _to herself, reading._ "Open your window when the moon is dead, And I will come again.

The men say everywhere that you are faithless, The women say your face is a false face And your eyes s.h.i.+fty eyes. Ah, but I love you, Gormflaith.

Do not forget your window-latch to-night, For when the moon is dead the house is still."

_LEAR again parts the door-curtains at the back, and, seeing GORMFLAITH, enters. At the first slight rustle of the curtains GORMFLAITH stealthily slips the letter back into her bosom before turning gradually, a finger to her lips, to see who approaches her._

LEAR, _leaning over the side of her chair._ Lady, what do you read?

GORMFLAITH. I read a letter, Sire.

LEAR.

A letter--a letter--what read you in a letter?

GORMFLAITH, _taking another letter from her girdle._ Your words to me--my lonely joy your words....

"If you are steady and true as your gaze"--

LEAR, _tearing the letter from her, crumpling it, and flinging it to the back of the room._ Pest!

You should not carry a king's letters about, Nor h.o.a.rd a king's letters.

GORMFLAITH. No, Sire.

LEAR.

Must the King also stand in the presence now?

GORMFLAITH, _rising._ Pardon my troubled mind; you have taken my letter from me.

_LEAR seats himself and takes GORMFLAITH'S hand._

GORMFLAITH.

Wait, wait--I might be seen. The Queen may waken yet.

_Stepping lightly to the bed, she noiselessly slips the curtain on that side as far forward as it will come. Then she returns to LEAR, who draws her to him and seats her on his knee._

LEAR.

You have been long in coming: Was Merryn long in finding you?

GORMFLAITH, _playing with LEAR'S emerald._ Did Merryn....

Has Merryn been.... She loitered long before she came, For I was at the women's bathing-place ere dawn....

No jewel in all the land excites me and enthralls Like this strong source of light that lives upon your breast.

LEAR, _taking the jewel-chain from his neck and slipping it over GORMFLAITH'S head while she still holds the emerald._ Wear it within your breast to fill the gentle place That cherished the poor letter lately torn from you.

GORMFLAITH.

Did Merryn at your bidding, then, forsake her Queen?

_LEAR nods._ You must not, ah, you must not do these masterful things, Even to grasp a precious meeting for us two; For the reproach and chiding are so hard to me, And even you can never fight the silent women In hidden league against me, all this house of women.

Merryn has left her Queen in unwatched loneliness, And yet your daughter Princess Goneril has said (With lips that scarce held back the spittle for my face) That if the Queen is left again I shall be whipt.

LEAR.

Children speak of the punishments they know.

Her back is now not half so white as yours, And you shall write your will upon it yet.

GORMFLAITH.

Ah, no, my King, my faithful... Ah, no... no...

The Princess Goneril is right; she judges me: A sinful woman cannot steadily gaze reply To the cool, baffling looks of virgin untried force.

She stands beside that crumbling mother in her hate, And, though we know so well--she and I, O we know-- That she could love no mother nor partake in anguish, Yet she is flouted when the King forsakes her dam, She must protect her very flesh, her tenderer flesh, Although she cannot wince; she's wild in her cold brain, And soon I must be made to pay a cruel price For this one gloomy joy in my uncherished life.