_Bion._ We'll send him word this hour, For while the edge be on his sudden love He'll thank us to be swift.

_Ber._ You loved me once, My lords.

_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 G.o.d, 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.

[_Barca re-enters right_]

_Barca._ [_To Bertrand_] The master asks a word with you, my lord.

[_Exit Bertrand with Barca_]

_Ard._ Will you accept his oath?

_Vig._ Go to your room.

_Bion._ We'll talk alone.

_Ard._ Nay, hear me first. You think To force me to the arms of Banissat.

Give over that wild thought.

_Bion._ 'Twas not so wild An hour ago.

_Ard._ Fate lifts the hand that laid Compulsion on me. I am free. O, free!

No strait of life or death can make me less Than mistress of myself.

_Bion._ Our destiny Is bound with Banissat. Make him our foe, And where shall we find peace? Not on these peaks.

_Ard._ Is he our jailer then? This Banissat?

Our prison his good favor? Nay, the world Has many roads, and courage even yet May blaze a new one.

_Bion._ Rooted life is best.

I am not one to make my bed on winds, Or stroll the earth for fortune's grudged sc.r.a.ps s.n.a.t.c.hed from a rapier's point.

_Ard._ Know this. My hand Shall never lie in Banissat's. Give up A hope so barren. There's better pasturage For wits so bold as yours. Now Oswald holds The breadth of Suli plain, the heights of Tor, Winged by the sea from Ilon to Ramoor-- A princ.i.p.ality whose circuit leaves Avesta as a fly pinned to a wall.

_Vig._ What's Oswald's fief to us? We are no sons of his.

_Ard._ Lord Bertrand holds the princedom here While Oswald goes to wars in Palestine.

_Bion._ He told you this?

_Ard._ Did you not read as much In Oswald's letter? There 'twas plainly said.

_Bion._ Still is our surest hope with Banissat.

_Ard._ When Bertram! is your friend? O, more than friend!

A brother!

_Bion._ Ah ... do you say "brother"?

_Ard._ True As though he had been born our father's son!

_Bion._ [_To Vigard_] You hear?

_Vig._ With more than ears.

_Bion._ We have been blind.

_Vig._ A brother!

_Bion._ All is clear enough, now that We've eyes for it. Your pardon, sister.

_Ard._ Pardon?

_Bion._ Pray you! We thought your scorn of Banissat Marked you of creeping spirit, when your aim Shot o'er our lowered eyes.

_Vig._ Ay, she has sped Before our boldest care of her, and left Our duty lurching.

_Ard._ These are drunken words.

_Vig._ If you would wed Lord Bertrand,----

_Ard._ O, you think....

_Bion._ Your hope has shown its wing. Best bid it fly.

_Vig._ Speak without fear. This changes all.

_Ard._ You mean You'll not delay us? You will let us go?