Osw. Commend me, stars!
You counselled well. [To Bertrand] Fool, do not draw. There's none
Will run against you. Charilus is dead,
And by a way more sure. His holy goblet
Held one rich drop the angels put not there
Nor Virgin blessed. See how he pales—and stares—
And cannot get his voice? So are we spared
A swan-song homily trickling through his beard.
Be off, old pray-lip—off, and take with you
Your cat-foot peace and milky piety!
I serve a vengeful God who armeth men
For his own wars!
Ber. Heaven, draw thy clouds about thee!
[Charilus dies in Ardia's arms]
Osw. He's dead! The air of earth is sweet again.
I have no enemy!
Ber. [Looking up from the body] You have no son.
[Curtain]
ACT III
Scene: On Kidmir Pass. Moonlight paling to dawn. Ardia alone, struggling up the Pass.
Ard. [Looking back] They do not follow. I am safe from that. [Sits on a rock]
Why should I climb? There is no rest up there.
But there is death, mayhap,—and that is worth
The sorest climbing. O, my father dear,
Is 't thy dead self so heavy on my heart?
Thou shouldst be light upon thy spirit wings,
And give me of thy freedom.
[Gaina enters from above]
Gaina, hast found
The spring?