Bion. What call you old? He's in the fairest top
Of manhood.
Vig. Old!
Ard. And cannot sing....
Vig. Not sing!
Ard. What need have we of him? Can Oswald scale
These rock-barred heights?
Vig. Starvation can.
Ard. We've food
Will last three harvest moons.
Bion. And Oswald camps
Where plain and sea will feed ten thousand men
As many years.
Vig. While here our skeletons
With bleachèd grin may watch the feast below!
Ard. To starve ... is that so terrible? 'Tis but
One way of dying.