(Jana) “Nay, lady, all is dark. ’Tis but the whitish snow and shadow pitted by the tapers’ light.”
(Lady Marye) “Fetch me then my fan. I go to meet my Lord. Doth hear? Already they do play. I point me thus, and trip my heart’s full measure.”
(In the Hall.)
(Sir John) “So, lily-lip, thee’lt scratch! Thy silky paw hath claws, eh? Egad! A phantom! A ghoulish trick! My head doth split and where my tung? Get ye! Why sit like grinning asses! And where thy tungs? My God! What scent o’ graves she beareth with that shroud!”
(Lady Marye) “God cheer, my lord, and doth my tripping suit thee well? These flags are but my heart and hers, and do I bruise them well for thee? Ah, aha! See, I do spread my fan. To shield my tears, ye think? Nay, were they to fall like Mayday’s rain and thee wert buried ’neath a stone, as well then could’st thou see! And yet I love thee well. See thee, my sire, I pour this to thee!
“Look ye, good people at the feast; the boar is ready to slip its bones.
(Aside) “God, send Thy mantling love here to Thine own! For should I judge, when Thou I know dost love the saint and sinner as Thine own?
“To thee, my sire, to thee!”
And gusted wind did flick the tapers out and they did hear her murmuring “The Stranger! He doth bid me come!”