SCENE 2. _The same room in darkness. Margaret enters, right,

carrying a taper._

_Mar._ I'll look upon her. When sleep slips the rein The soul plays in the face unguarded. Then The conscious warder holding up the mask Before the secret self bares all defence Unheedful of approach. I'll look, and pray To find the lineaments so pure by day Still guileless fair. O, that 'twere yesterday--Sweet yesterday--when I knew not nor guessed The sad division 'tween my soul and Hubert's! O, knowledge, rude defiler of our dreams, How oft we'd give thy hard, substantial store To build again with bright illusion's eye Our happy towers on the inconstant clouds: [_Sees a light through curtains_] She's up! No ... who is there?

[_Veils her taper. Kent comes from the inner room. He carries a candle_]

_Kent._ She does not move. O, Eleanor, how could thy heart give blood To one so pure that he who loves her best Would send her back to Heaven?

_Mar._ [_Unheard by Kent_] Eleanor! Her child! Her child!

_Kent._ Fair Glaia, may'st thou rest, Not ever wake till angels call thee up. [_Looking back_] Ay, ay, she sleeps. [_Exit, left_]

_Mar._ How gracious art thou, God, To bless me so! O, wicked Eleanor! This was the fire that maddened thee to-night. Not fear for Hubert. How couldst make his life The priceless cloak of thy own worthless shame? But I can save him! I will make thee speak, Unsistered woman!

[_Draws back the curtains, leaving them open, showing the inner room and bed on which Glaia lies_]

Glaia, now I'll look, Nor all thy grace shall hide the lines that mark Thy cruel mother. Can this be the face That breeds such misery? Fair heaven-case Of innocence!... My Hubert's niece, so mine. How lily-cold in sleep! And still ... so still. A kiss will not awake thee--one as light As my own heart. So cold? O, cold as death! [_Draws back the coverlet_]

Blood! Blood! A dagger here! O Heaven, That this smooth coverlet should hide so much! [_Stands a moment in silent horror_]

And Hubert thought she slept. "Rest well," he said, "Nor ever wake till angels call thee up." Nor wilt thou wake till then, poor Glaia. O, How can I call him here to look on this! [_Takes up the dagger_] Strange that the slayer left his dagger here. He in whose heart the thought of murder lives Has more of cunning in him. [_Drops dagger suddenly_] Hubert's! O!

[_Staggers away from bed and holds herself up by the curtains. Buries her face for an instant, then looks up blanched and determined_]

I must act quickly. O, at once--at once! One pause may be the grave of resolution. [_Starts toward bed, but stops_] "She does not move," he said ... and "ay, she sleeps," As though she slept eternally. [_Goes to bed, and takes up the dagger_] His dagger. Oft has it pleased me to regard this hilt. Pearls winding like a milky way about A turquoise heaven. Even then my fate Lurked in the blade. Why do I talk, and beg A vile delay? Pain is sole merchant here, And with each moment amplifies his profit. ... I will not pray, for prayer is softening, And I must be too stern to pity self. I was a princess. I'll not think of that, For now I am a wife. And for my lord Must die. They'll find me here, and say the deed Was mine. My jealous hand avenged my wrong. ... O gentle Heaven, he is not worthy this! Nay, nor no man, and yet for every man There lives a woman who would die for him. [_Lifts the dagger_] I can not strike. [_Drops her arm_] I must ... ere I go mad And leave the event to chance.

[_Lifts dagger, grows faint and falls with a cry to the floor. Kent enters, left_]

_Kent._ Twas Margaret's voice. My love? [_Advances and sees Margaret on the floor_] O, life of mine! [_Looks toward bed_] Glaia! Uncovered--bleeding--dead! Put out My eyes! Out ... out. What cruelty yet lives In Heaven to show me this? O, Eleanor, Come, come and see how thy one sin has grown To widest hell! Thy Glaia dead ... even cold ... And Margaret ... not dead ... but would she were! [_Bends over her_] Yea, I could love thee then. My Margaret, Couldst do this thing? Thy hand was ever tender, And oft thou coveredst even guilt with mercy. ... She could not do it.... Ay, she could ... she could. For her ancestral steps are marked with blood, And but to-night her eye flashed with a look That like an evil star did point to this. [_Knocking without, and opening of gates_] My summons from the king. Ho, Rufus? [_Draws coverlet over Glaia's form_] Glaia, Thou wert the bud of earth; infinity Shall wear thy blossom and be proud.

[_Enter attendant_]

_Att._ My lord?

_Kent._ Your mistress faints. Call up her women. Haste!

[_Exit attendant. Kent takes Margaret in his arms and_ _bears her off, right. Re-enters, goes to curtains and draws them, concealing Glaia's bed_]

O, Henry, _now_ thy heart is struck.

[_Enter an attendant_]

Who comes?

_Att._ Your grace, I do not know. Strange men who give No name, but say that they must see you.

_Kent._ Must? Admit them.

_Att._ Here, your grace?

_Kent._ Ay, here.

[_Exit attendant. Kent picks up dagger from the floor_] 'Tis mine. I'll wear my own. [_Hangs dagger at his belt_] Now is the earl of Kent A murderer. How feels it with you, sir?

[_Enter officers and attendants_]

_Officer._ My lord of Kent, you are our prisoner.

_Kent._ By whose command?

_Off._ The king's.

_Kent._ O, April heart, Dost think 'twill ne'er be winter? What the crime?

_Off._ You're charged, on pain of death, to show the son Of Adelais, of France.

_Kent._ That sin is old And faded now. I know another blots O'er that. I'll burn your ears with 't as we go.

[_Exeunt. Curtain_]