And in the world, the court, if men would cite
The perfect spirit of honour, Thorold's name
Rises of its clear nature to their lips.
But he should take men's homage, trust in it,
And care no more about what drew it down.
He has desert, and that, acknowledgment;
Is he content?

MILDRED. You wrong him, Guendolen.

GUENDOLEN. He's proud, confess; so proud with brooding o'er
The light of his interminable line,
An ancestry with men all paladins,
And women all...

MILDRED. Dear Guendolen, 'tis late!
When yonder purple pane the climbing moon
Pierces, I know 'tis midnight.

GUENDOLEN. Well, that Thorold
Should rise up from such musings, and receive
One come audaciously to graft himself
Into this peerless stock, yet find no flaw,
No slightest spot in such an one...

MILDRED. Who finds
A spot in Mertoun?

GUENDOLEN. Not your brother; therefore,
Not the whole world.

MILDRED. I am weary, Guendolen.
Bear with me!

GUENDOLEN. I am foolish.

MILDRED. Oh no, kind!
But I would rest.

GUENDOLEN. Good night and rest to you!
I said how gracefully his mantle lay
Beneath the rings of his light hair?

MILDRED. Brown hair.

GUENDOLEN. Brown? why, it IS brown: how could you know that?

MILDRED. How? did not you--Oh, Austin 'twas, declared
His hair was light, not brown--my head!--and look,
The moon-beam purpling the dark chamber! Sweet,
Good night!

GUENDOLEN. Forgive me--sleep the soundlier for me!
[Going, she turns suddenly.]
Mildred!
Perdition! all's discovered! Thorold finds
--That the Earl's greatest of all grandmothers
Was grander daughter still--to that fair dame
Whose garter slipped down at the famous dance!
[Goes.]

MILDRED. Is she--can she be really gone at last?
My heart! I shall not reach the window. Needs
Must I have sinned much, so to suffer.
[She lifts the small lamp which is suspended before the Virgin's
image in the window, and places it by the purple pane.]
There!
[She