I am discharged, Tristram, discharged. The Countess has discharged me for keeping company with you. And she has been crying too, to have to part with me. What ever will come to us? _T._ What matters? I’ll cheer thee, girl. Look here! More money. There’s five pieces of gold: and all for carrying this letter to Sir Gregory. Where is he? _Fl._ Who gave it you? _T._ That Mr. Ricardo. It’s a mystery, Flora: but there’s something in it, I do believe. _Fl._ Mr. Ricardo? _T._ Ay. Who should he be that scatters gold, and seals with a crown, look! and says that he will find us new places, and all sorts of fine promises? A man that would flick me away whenever I came near him. _Fl._ Did he, Tristram? 2830 _T._ Ay, that he would. But I heard him say once that he came here for his cure. I take it he’s cured now; and he would make friends all on a sudden, and begs me kindly carry this to Sir Gregory. ’Tis his farewell, no doubt. He will go home, and take me with him. _Fl._ And me too? _T._ Not if you blubber. Where’s Sir Gregory? _Fl._ I don’t know. The Countess has bid me go seek Lady Laura. 2840 _T._ Come! I’ll with you as far as the library, where I think I should find the old gentleman. [_Exeunt._ _Enter Diana._ _DIANA._ Rejected! by the man I loved rejected: Despised by him, and by myself betrayed! And all will know it—I could not hide it. Our nature hath this need: woman must love. But oh! to have made my idol of a stone, To my wórship a déaf unanswering stone! At last I am cured. Since not my rank suffices To set me above the rules I gave my maids, 2850 I’ll never love. Am I to stand and wait, Till some man fancy me, and then to melt And conjure inclination at a nod? O man, thou art our god: the almighty’s curse Crowns thee our master: from the green-sick girl That mopes in worship of the nearest fool, To the poor jaded wife of thirty years Who dotes upon her striker, ’tis the same.... That’s not for me. Nay, give it up altogether: Go free. If man’s so base; if that high passion, That spirit-ecstasy, that supersensual, 2861 Conscious devotion of divinity Of which I dreamed, is only to be found In books of fanciful philosophy, Or tales of pretty poets ... why then away With books and men! my life henceforth shall prove Woman is self-sufficing: in my court No man shall step, save such as may be needed To show my spirit holds them in contempt. Women shall be my friends and women only; 2870 And I shall find allies. I had in Laura All that I could desire, a friend, unselfish, Devoted, grateful, and as yet untainted By any folly of love: and her I schemed To marry away. ’Tis not too late: I’ll save her: She shall not be enslaved: she doth not love. Her heart is free and generous; it has shrunk By instinct from the yoke: she will join with me;