A Chamber in Ridolfi's House.
Hermione, sitting at a Table.
hermione.
Two years agone—this self-same chamber—
Just as 'twas wont;—that ebony casket—still
Yon little crucifix hung o'er the mirror,—
That plaited riband, on its flower-carved pillars,
I wore in sport for love's fair guerdon;
Its chequer'd noose I vow'd to cast on him
Who caught me first in some wild reckless game
Of wanton mirth; but none, as I remember,
The adventure gain'd,—it hangs unclaiméd still.
But why this heaviness?—as if some secret,
Some long-forgotten grief, waked from its slumber,
Roused at the voice of these loud recollections.
Ah! dread dissembler! once I thought thee dead,
And thou but slept! Away! haunt not my spirit!
Is it thy form, fell demon? Hence!—thy strength
Is nurtured but with present loneliness,
And on the wings of some reviving thought
Admittance hast thou gain'd to mock me.
[Knocking without.
Who knocks?—
blanch.
'Tis time, lady, you adorn for the guests. The Duke sends word he will attend, and with it his gracious love to Hermione. This billet greets you with his welcome.
hermione.
A billet!—Welcome!—Stay.
Thou shalt attire me in some simple garb,
Some unassuming robe; its modest hue
Unnoticed, I can there observe
The humours of this feast.
blanch.
Your crimson bodice, lady, becomes you best, and your lilac kerchief with the blue purfle——or do you choose your orange tiffany dress, and your coif and farthingale?
hermione.
Neither, good Blanch. Where is mine old spotted robe, with the silk sleeves and violet-flowered stomacher?
blanch.
Lady, what unlucky accident should bethink you of the garment? I fear your memory is but indifferently served. Once, my kind mistress, you gave it to me: and I remember well I said the dress was too gay, when straight you replied, with a sigh (and I do always grieve to hear you sigh, lady), "Take it, good Blanch; I wear it not again:" which I the more marvelled at, being, as you remember, made up for your last visit to Mantua, nor did you inquire for it, after you left this gay city; but methinks none other serves you so well for this same soft-air'd clime. I will away for it speedily, right glad, I trow, the roguish pedler hath not fetched it, who gathers the cast-off dresses from your house. I have not worn the apparel, lady.
hermione.
Thou art a kind-hearted gossip. Choose thee the best suit from my clothes-press, and take it for the exchange.—Nay, good Blanch, I allow not thy gainsay:—it will, peradventure, help thee to a husband.
blanch.
I will but keep it then, my sweet mistress, to answer at your bidding; mayhap, you will fancy it on your wedding-day.