As Ever Like the Sun & Moon at War

4- ☼☼☼

Arriving late the next of morns in town,

the Spouse sets course for straight to Doctor's house,

neglecting even tying th'horses up

before she frantic'lly goes knocking on

the door, which once again is answer'd with

the Doctor's weary gaze, but soon she lights

again at seeing who's come rushing back.

She lets the Spouse come in and once she steps

across the threshold checks outside the door

before she closes it behind and asks:                10

"What happen'd to the other man you took

along with ye procuring th'herb I ask'd

for you t'retrieve in order to concoct

the cure to th'illness plaguing all the town?"

She shakes her head and gives as her response:

"Betrayal was his plan, for he's in league

with other players, spreading this disease;

or rather was, for I dispos'd of him

before he had the chance to break my neck.

However there is news that's good to hear,                20

for th'illness that you thought this must've been

cannot be true, for ere his dying breath

the Saunterer inform'd me that this ill

is not the killing kind; and I'm reliev'd,

for on our journey did your stone turn white,

which caus'd me much dismay, but now I know

my Pilgrim's still alive, and that your gauge

was like to be defective given you

were unaware the nature of the ill

we're dealing with, so I shall cast no blame."                30

A look of consternation crosses her—

the Doctor's—countenance at hearing this.

"The Saunterer is kill'd, you say to me?"

She swallows hard, but soon composes self.

"Condolences, for both of ye did seem

to have been growing close when in I came

and saw the two of ye together here.

But I should ask of ye if still you got

the herb I sent ye for, as may it still

be good for studying to have a stem                40

t'experiment upon, regardless of

the lack'd lethality of this disease."

From in her blouse the Spouse retrieves the fern,

which looks a little worn with waterlog,

and friction, but hath dried since falling in