Ard. Spare speech and me. I know the rest.
Ber. Your prayers
Then be my bond that Christ may search my heart
And find no part not his.
Ard. No prayer of mine
Shall fetter youth to bloodless vows. And you
Look not as one faith-leeched of life. Your cheek
Is sudden gray, not changeless pale. 'Tis hued
Like rebel morning pushing back a dawn
Too eager for its peace. A monk. Our ways
Part as our souls. Know you I am to wed
Prince Banissat? So dumb?
My father comes!
[Meets Charilus re-entering and leads him to a seat]
Our guest was telling me of English days.
Now you change tongue with him and speak the tale
You promised yester night. Why does this Oswald,
This war-mad lord of England, on his way
To free the holy tomb, forget his path
And turn his army's strength against a man
No greater than thyself?
Char. Yes, you shall know.
Ard. At last!
Char. For morning parts us.
Ard. Oh! Not that!
Ber. Shall I go in, my lord?
Char. Nay, Vairdelan.
I'd have thee hear. Thou thinkest me a man
Of holy heart.
Ard. Ah, who does not?