Gordon Bottomley,
King Lear's Wife; The Crier by Night…
“ As Gunnar shall. Men have much harm by you. Hallgerd. Now have I gashed the golden cloth awry: 'Tis ended—a ruin of clouts—the worth of the gift— Bridal dish-clouts—nay, a bundle of flame. I'll burn it to a breath of its old queen's ashes: Fire, O fire, drink up....She throws the shreds of the veil on the glowing embers: they waft to ashes with a brief high flare. She goes to Jofrid. There's one of you That holds her head in a bird's sideways fashion: I know that reach o' the chin.... What's under thy hair?—She fixes Jofrid with her knee, and lifts her hair. ”
