King Lear's Wife; The Crier by Night; The Riding to Lithend; Midsummer-Eve Part 13

HIALTI.

Canst find a rope?

BLANID, _pointing._ Behind the settle there.

_To herself._ 'Tis a good rope and has two rotten strands; 'Twas meant to make good tinder on the morrow.

THE VOICE.

Help; help! A light! Come for the woman's sake!

HIALTI, _holding out his hand for the lantern._ Hearken and haste; give me the lantern--now!

BLANID.

Master, it will not light....

HIALTI. Will the storm pause?

THE VOICE.

Ohohey! Ohohey!

HIALTI.

Will that dark Crier linger? I must go.

_She catches his outstretched hand and kisses it ere, s.n.a.t.c.hing it away, he flings the house door wide open and dashes outside. Soon the sound of his footsteps is lost in the storm._

BLANID, _relighting the lantern and starting up._ Master, Master, the light!

_Pausing and sending the lantern cras.h.i.+ng on the hearth with both hands._

He shall not have it!

_She stands with her hands gripping her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, leaning forward toward the open door; her breathlessness is all that is heard; she stretches her arms to the night._

BLANID.

I feel as if my long, long hands could reach Down to the water's heart to pluck him from it.

THE VOICE.

Will no one ever come?

HIALTI, _out of doors._ I come; I am nigh.

BLANID.

Ay, he is nigh; but soon he will be far.

I dare not thus fall through the world for him.

O, I shall hear him ... do not let me hear him ...

_She throws herself on her face on the floor and, covering her head with the strewn rushes and clasping her hands over them, lies there moaning._

HIALTI, _far off, shouting ever more madly._ Thorgerd, Thorgerd ... your hands ... the world slips past me ...

Save ... under ... under ... under ...

Aa-h ...

_The shouting ceases suddenly at its height._

BLANID, _m.u.f.fled and choking._ Her name ... her name ... why did he not think my name? ...

But she has lost him, and I kissed his hand ...

THORGERD, _rus.h.i.+ng from the sleeping-chamber in her night-gear._ Where is the wench?... Make haste--another light: I heard him dying. O, this prater's breath Will blow his life out ... Kindle a light and come ...

THE VOICE.

Ohey! Ohohey! Ohey!

BLANID.

Nay! Nay! Nay! I dare not, I dare not ...

That Crier will drown me too ...

THORGERD. That is nought to me; Get to your feet ... What, shall I seek a way To supple you?

BLANID. O, do not hurt me again ...

He dies ... it is my deed ... I dare not come ...

THORGERD.

You are too mean to stir his life one thought; It was the Crafty Crier--I heard that wail ...

_The fire is now wholly out, so that the cottage is absolutely dark and nothing is visible._

THE VOICE, _near at hand._ Ohohey! Ohey!

THORGERD, _fiercely._ Where are you?... O, the Crier is heaving o'er ...

_A gust of wind and rain is heard to sweep into the cottage through the open doorway, s.h.i.+fting the rustling floor-rushes as though feet touched them. THE OLD STRANGE MAN has entered._

BLANID, _being heard to start to her feet._ There is another breathing in the house ...

He is here ... this darkness is not black enough, The darkness at light's core alone could hide me ...

Grope for my hand--hold fast and take me home ...

_She is heard to sink to the floor again._

THE OLD STRANGE MAN.

Sister of that old race dead in the hills, Why will you make me come to you once more?

You know you must go down a long withdrawing To reach the unlit places of your heart, Which are the night within my unknown eyes Beyond all stars; so let me touch you once.

_BLANID is heard to drag her prostrate body through the rushes toward THORGERD._

BLANID.

Mistress, I am your thrall; you will keep your own ...

I clasp your feet, I kiss your clutching feet, I lick your feet all over with my tongue, I will tell you somewhat that will yield a vengeance For you to work; so do not let me go....

THE OLD MAN.

I see you, you white terror with shaking flanks, Straining to feel me with your hard-shut eyes, But now I need you not; not yet; not yet.