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.