Bion. True, son of Oswald.
Ber. Though you used
Some bitter words, I know your inmost heart
Holds me a man undoubted. There I'm stamped
In honor's verity; and when I vow,
By my soul's faith, that Charilus is safe,
You know 'tis truth.
Bion. Be you our father's hostage,
If this mad thing must be. Stay you with us,
And we are silent.
Ard. Stay? You ask too much.
Vig. No fear, soft sister. Mark him. We're refused.
He'll stuff the air with words, not clear it with
One pinch of proof.
Ber. My lords, were I to stay,
'Twould make an act of faith lose point and purpose,
And blazon doubt before my father's face.
Vig. You mark?
Ber. 'Twould louder cry of war; uproot
Love's seedling in its tenderest hour, and make
Once more the bane and night-weed spring. But hear
An oath of mine. If Charilus meet harm
In Oswald's camp, I shall return and ask
The same stroke from your hands.
Ard. O, do not swear!
Ber. By every hope I have to enter Heaven,
By the right hand of God, by this white cross
That knew my mother's last, death-holy kiss,
By every sacred thing I know and love,
If Charilus comes up these heights no more,
Here shall I lay my life beneath your sword.