TALBOYS.
You remember poor, dear, Sweet Mrs Henry Siddons—the Desdemona—how she gave utterance to those words
"It was his bidding—therefore, good Emilia,
Give me my nightly wearing, and adieu;
We must not now displease him.
Emilia.—I would you had never seen him!
Desdemona.—So would not I; my love doth so approve him,
That even his stubbornness, his checks, and frowns,—
Pr'ythee, unpin me,—have grace and favour in them.
Emilia.—I have laid those sheets you bade me on the bed.
Desdemona.—All's one: Good father! how foolish are our minds!
If I do die before thee—pr'ythee shroud me
In one of those same sheets."
The wedding sheets were reserved. They had been laid by for weeks—months—time long enough to give a saddest character to the bringing them out again—a serious, ominous meaning—disturbed from the quietude, the sanctity of their sleep by a wife's mortal presentiment that they may be her shroud.