t's done.
I cannot bear another voice.

_Mertoun._ There's light--
Light all about me, and I move to it.
Tresham, did I not tell you--did you not
Just promise to deliver words of mine
To Mildred?

_Tresham._ I will bear these words to her.

_Mertoun._ Now?

_Tresham._ Now. Lift you the body, and leave me
The head.

[_As they half raise MERTOUN, he turns suddenly._

_Mertoun._ I knew they turned me: turn me not from her!
There! stay you! there!

[_Dies._

_Guendolen_ [_after a pause_]. Austin, remain you here
With Thorold until Gerard comes with help:
Then lead him to his chamber. I must go
To Mildred.

_Tresham._ Guendolen, I hear each word
You utter. Did you hear him bid me give
His message? Did you hear my promise? I,
And only I, see Mildred.

_Guendolen._ She will die.

_Tresham._ Oh no, she will not die! I dare not hope
She'll die. What ground have you to think she'll die?
Why, Austin's with you!

_Austin._ Had we but arrived
Before you fought!

_Tresham._ There was no fight at all.
He let me slaughter him--the boy! I'll trust
The body there to you and Gerard--thus!
Now bear him on before me.

_Austin._ Whither bear him?

_Tresham._ Oh, to my chamber! When we meet there next,
We shall be friends.

[_They bear out the body of MERTOUN._

Will she die, Guendolen?

_Guendolen._ Where are you taking me?

_Tresham._ He fell just here.
Now answer me. Shall you in your whole life
--You who have nought to do with Mertoun's fate,
Now you have seen his breast upon the turf,
Shall you e'er walk this way if you can help?
When you and Austin wander arm-in-arm
Through our ancestral grounds, will not a shade
Be ever on the meadow and the waste--
Another kind of shade than when the night
Shuts the woodside with all its whispers up?
But will you ever so forget his breast
As carelessly to cross this bloody turf
Under the black yew avenue? That's well!
You turn your head: and I then?--

_Guendolen._ What is done
Is done. My care is for the living. Thorold,
Bear up against this burden: more remains
To set the neck to!

_Tresham._ Dear and ancient trees
My fathers planted, and I loved so well!
What have I done that, like some fabled cri