Ingomar. (Who has been standing on a rock looking at the proceedings of his followers.) No violence! Ho! how he runs! and now He stops and cries again! Poor fearful fool! It must be strange to fear: now, by my troth, I should like to feel, for once, what ’tis to fear! But the girl—(Leaning forward.) Ha! do I see right? you weep. [To Parthenia. Is that the happy temper that you boast?
Par. Oh, I shall never see him more!
Ing. What! have we For a silly old man, got now a foolish And timid weeping girl? I have had enough Of tears.
Par. Enough, indeed, since you but mock them! I will not—no, I’ll weep no more.
[She quickly dries her eyes, and retires to the background.[1]
Ing. That’s good! come, that looks well; She is a brave girl! she rules herself, and if She keep her word, we have made a good exchange— “I’ll weep no more!” Aha! I like the girl. And if—Ho! whither goest thou?
[To Parthenia, who is going off with two goblets.
Par. Where should I go? to yonder brook, to cleanse the cups.
Ing. No! stay and talk with me.
Par. I have duties to perform. [Going.