The throat on which his kisses have been flung.
Give her to me, just God, give her to me,
But for the time it takes to close my hand
Thus, and if justice reign supreme above,
The traitress shall come hither to her doom.”
(Enter Francesca.)
(Aside) “My prayer is answered. It is Jove's decree.” So the passage ran, and it was delivered by the actress with a fervour that thrilled the house.
After her aside, Oriana turned, according to the stage directions, to Francesca with a smile. In Miss Hoppner's eyes there was a light of triumph—of gratified revenge—and before it Margaret Woffington quailed. She gave a frightened glance around, as if looking for a way of escape; there was a little pause, and then upon the silence of the house there fell the half-hissed words of Oriana as she craned her head forward facing her rival:
“Thou think'st to ride in triumph o'er my
corse—