SCENE II.

_Enter DUCHESS and HERMIONE._

HERMIONE. Laura hath not yet Put off her sorrow.--Still doth fancy cherish The darling form of yon misguided youth Your lord encounter'd on the terrace.-- With long entreaty I have learnt his name; And, as my yet unquestion'd word befits, 'Tis but a cast-off suitor of mine own!

DUCHESS. I fear me this adventure still broods mischief. The Duke somehow had strange intelligence Of danger threatened to Hermione.-- On that same night he watch'd, and foil'd the ruffian, But he forebore to afflict him farther.

HERMIONE. Strange-- This brief-told tale--

_Enter DUKE._

Welcome--thrice welcome now. By what good chance, my lord, sought you the terrace Few nights agone?--Some stray intelligence, The Duchess tells, crept to your ear of danger To me denounced!

DUKE. Some secret whisper met me of the matter. Know you this billet?

HERMIONE. Forsooth its fair outside Small import gives of such unworthy deed.-- I know not, save at once you dare commit Its contents to my ken.

DUKE. Well spoken, lady.-- What read you?

HERMIONE. Carlos!--(_Reads._) Some strange mistake rests here. As my good word Earns your belief--till now, I ne'er beheld This love-lorn billet.

DUKE. Ah, woman, pleasant still, But full of subtlety;--perverse, untoward-- Thy ways mark'd deep by unabash'd deceit: Well thou mayst laugh at thine imposture.

HERMIONE. The riddle solves:--this billet by mistake Hath found its way to yon same helpless virgin. Laura hath dropp'd it--some officious friend Unto your eye the unoffending page Hath straight convey'd.

DUKE. Thou answerest plausibly;-- I would believe thy honied tongue.

HERMIONE. I did repulse him, sore amazed At his approach.--He threaten'd with his hate, Which I do love more than his unprized favour!

DUKE. I well remember thy reproof.

DUCHESS. Our rebel cousin hither comes with word Of her departure from our city.--Hence, To-morrow, by the saffron-breaking dawn, To Venice she returns. I urge in vain Some further hindrance.--Wilt thou again make suit To lady's ear, and win her stay?

DUKE. To-morrow! "Let then to-morrow come if e'er it may; But when to-morrow comes, 'tis still to-day-- To-morrow go, and thou art never gone, Till yon to-morrow and to-day are one!"

HERMIONE. I must hence: Urge me not further.

DUKE. Nay, I urge thee not. My will in Mantua e'er was held injunction. I'll be thy tyrant, lady--thy stern keeper. This day, within our palace, thou shalt be, If willing and obedient, our guest: If stubborn and self-will'd, our prisoner! I'll compass thee with such delicious chains, Thou shalt not wish e'en thine own thought were free!

HERMIONE. Your guest this day, the last I spend in Mantua. The night I give to Laura.

DUCHESS. This proud night Shall so out-mimic day, thou shalt not guess When night hath drawn the twilight to his bosom.

_Enter SYLVIO._

SYLVIO (_aside to the DUKE_). The guard hath yet no tidings; The woman hides her warily.

DUKE. Not yet! I would, ere night, this mumming witch were found. Without the walls perchance she lurks. Command Their search unto the outskirts: large reward Will follow their success. [_Exit SYLVIO._

DUCHESS. At this inviting hour, we taste The fragrance from our incense-breathing flowers: My lord, attend you us? The roses are fresh sprinkled,--the soft breeze Comes heavily from their odour-blushing heads, Faint and oppress'd with its delicious burden.

DUKE. My spouse hath set her love on some tall poppy, Some velvet-cheek'd, young tulip; drinking nectar From his soft, balmy lip. I must be jealous Of these same gentle favours.

DUCHESS. You shall attend Our fragrant courtship--the unwitting pander To my stolen pleasures. Ah, my lord! what mean you? Comes that dark frown to me, or to my lovers?

DUKE. Nothing, Beatrice,--a passing jest,--'tis gone,-- I needs must frown when I am jealous. Now, Fair dames, I would attend you. [_Exeunt._