to hope,
Arrived then? Does that huge tome show some blot
In the Earl's 'scutcheon come no longer back
Than Arthur's time?

TRESHAM. When left you Mildred's chamber?

GUENDOLEN. Oh, late enough, I told you! The main thing
To ask is, how I left her chamber,--sure,
Content yourself, she'll grant this paragon
Of Earls no such ungracious...

TRESHAM. Send her here!

GUENDOLEN. Thorold?

TRESHAM. I mean--acquaint her, Guendolen,
--But mildly!

GUENDOLEN. Mildly?

TRESHAM. Ah, you guessed aright!
I am not well: there is no hiding it.
But tell her I would see her at her leisure--
That is, at once! here in the library!
The passage in that old Italian book
We hunted for so long is found, say, found--
And if I let it slip again... you see,
That she must come--and instantly!

GUENDOLEN. I'll die
Piecemeal, record that, if there have not gloomed
Some blot i' the 'scutcheon!

TRESHAM. Go! or, Guendolen,
Be you at call,--With Austin, if you choose,--
In the adjoining gallery! There go!
[GUENDOLEN goes.]
Another lesson to me! You might bid
A child disguise his heart's sore, and conduct
Some sly investigation point by point
With a smooth brow, as well as bid me catch
The inquisitorial cleverness some praise.
If you had told me yesterday, "There's one
You needs must circumvent and practise with,
Entrap by policies, if you would worm
The truth out: and that one is--Mildred!" There,
There--reasoning is thrown away on it!
Prove she's unchaste... why, you may after prove
That she's a poisoner, traitress, what you will!
Where I can comprehend nought, nought's to say,
Or do, or think. Force on me but the first
Abomination,--then outpour all plagues,
And I shall ne'er make count of them.

Enter MILDRED

MILDRED. What book
Is it I wanted, Thorold? Guendolen
Thought you were pale; you are not pale. That book?
That's Latin surely.

TRESHAM. Mildred, here's a line,
(Don't lean on me: I'll English it for you)
"Love conquers all things." What love conquers them?
What love should you e