Laura.

Good morning, sister.

D. Did you sleep well last night?

L. I slept till nine.

D. What hour went you to bed?

L. Not very late....

D. Nay: but what hour?—before eleven?

L. (aside). What’s this? Are we discovered?

D. Was it before eleven?

L. I cannot tell. Why do you ask, Diana? What is it has happened?

D. Answer me, I beg, And you shall know. About that hour of the night Did you hear any noise?

L. (aside). Ricardo’s singing.— What kind of noise?

D. Why, any noise, between Eleven and midnight.

L. Did you hear a noise?

D. No: but did you?

L. O no: I heard no noise. What made you think there was a noise?

D. I have reason.

L. Was there a robbery?

D. Nay: no robbery. And yet there was, Laura, a robbery: Of honour,—our honour,—of woman’s honour. Laura, thou knowest the sacredness of love: Love is the one thing in the world which women Must guard from profanation; for by love They rule; and if they trifle with their power, They come to be men’s chattels, not their queens. Thou’lt soon be married, Laura, and I can talk Freely of these things: I have taught thee the religious And philosophic doctrines; but to-day We deal with facts. And first, then, I rejoice Thy husband will be a man whom thou wilt rule, One who adores thee reverently, who holds Of love, as I, and with some special fancy:— He is quite a poet.—Why, now, shouldst thou smile? Thou hast no taste in poetry, but suppose St. Nicholas had lacked that inner sight, Had fancied thee merely because he thought thee A fine girl, and had used the common tricks Of odious trifling, till he dared to kiss thee, And meet thee alone, and put his arm about thee....

L. Good heavens, Diana! I hope you do not think He has ever done so.

D. No: of course he wouldn’t. But ’tis a fact men do such things; and that Not with one woman only. And ’tis true That there are ladies who admit the addresses Of more than one man.

L. O Diana!

D. Indeed, ’Tis true: and women are to blame if men Make them their sport. Thou’rt shocked: but ’tis a fact That this detested pestilence invades Earth’s every nook: my palace doors and bolts, My strong precautions, my well-known regard For strictness, my injunctions, my example, Cannot expel it.

L. Pray, Diana, tell me What it is: you frighten me. Was any caught Breaking the rules, or is it but suspicion?

D. Of the two criminals, the man I know, The woman I know not; but if I knew her, I am in the mood to kill her.

L. (aside). Thank heaven, she does not guess me— Who is the man?

D. Better not ask; it matters not to thee: But thou canst help me find this erring Eve. If thou’st observed in any of the maids Conscious behaviour, scrupulous regard To petty adornment, or, what most betrays, An inconsiderate blushing....

L. (aside). The maids, she says! One of the maids! Good heavens!—

D. Marcela: Could it be she? She is handsome.

L. ’Tis not she: She tells me all her secrets.

D. Dorothy?

L. I do not think it.

D. Katharine?

L. No, not Kate.

D. I’ll find the traitress out.

L. (aside). To save myself I had best fall in with this.

D. What do you say?

L. I have not a suspicion,—but....

D. But what? What?

L. If there’s any one who might be charged With levity....

D. Who is it?

L. You’ll not be angry, Diana?

D. Nay: but tell me.

L. I should say, If there’s one frivolous, and more than others Unapt to profit by the rules....

D. ’Tis who?

L. I think ’tis your own maid.

D. Flora?—pooh! pooh! Flora’s almost a hoyden.

L. (aside). How stupid of me!

D. They meet at night, Laura: unless he dares To pass my chamber-door, ’tis in the garden. Your window looks that way. I thought last night You might have heard them.

L. Why, it’s very unlikely I should hear through the window.

D. Still, your window Gives you an opportunity to watch. You could step out and hide in the garden.

L. Alone?

D. I would not ask my sister to play spy, If it were possible that any scandal Dared with its spotted finger point at her.

L. But who is the man, Diana?

D. If I tell,— And you must know,—promise you will not breathe it.

L. You need not ask.

D. ’Tis Frederick.

L. Frederick! Incredible!

D. No, ’tis not incredible. Nothing is incredible of any man. And, Laura, I know that he is in love. He carries A portrait of his lady in his pocket.

L. (aside). Ah!

D. I’ll make an effort first to get at that. But if I fail, I must ask you to watch To-night, just for one night, only one hour. You are trembling, Laura.

L. So are you, Diana.

D. I am angry.

L. So am I.

D. No: you are frightened. Dare you not watch the garden?

L. O yes: I promise I’ll watch the garden well to-night, Diana. If he should venture again, I’ll see him. I think I could wait longer than one hour.

D. Do so: I shall set guard within. Eleven’s the time.

L. (aside). Could kindest ingenuity contrive Better than this? But how shall I warn Frederick About the picture?—

Enter Sir Gregory and St. Nicholas.

D. Good-morning, gentlemen. I need not ask The reason why you visit me thus early.