Goneril.
There is too little here. When was it made?
Hygd.
Yester-eve.... Yester-morn....
Goneril. Unhappy mother,
You have no daughter to take thought for you—
No servant's love to shame a daughter with,
Though I am shamed—you must have other food,
Straightway I bring you meat....
Hygd. It is no use....
Plenish the cup for me.... Not now, not now,
But in a while; for I am heavy now....
Old Wynoc's potions loiter in my veins,
And tides of heaviness pour over me
Each time I wake and think. I could sleep now.
Goneril.
Then I shall lull you, as you once lulled me.
Seating herself on the bed, she sings.
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?