_R._ She hath not seen my beard: and ’tis impossible She should suspect. She has treated me all along 50 With such disdain, that I, in love as I am, Can scarce believe I venture; but—I am mad. Nothing could keep me back. Hear all my story, And then see how I am changed. ’Tis three years since I saw her first at Rome. His Holiness Gave a reception; I with some of the guests Had strayed to view the galleries: suddenly Out of a group before me—as if a Grace, That lived in Rafael’s brain to mock his hand, Had stepped alive amongst us to rebuke 60 Our admiration of the fresco-stuff— She turned and faced me. Quick as I tell, I read my fate: I knew What I was born for. Love’s first ecstasy Fooled me to a false security. That night I wrote my passion; and by such presumption Offended. My after patience met with scorn, My importunity anger. I then desisted, Trying if by absence I could work my cure. Twelve months of trial bring me here to-day 70 With no hope left but this; that living near her Her daily and familiar sight may blunt My strained ideal passion; or if this Quench not my fancy, it may serve to feed it With something tangible and wholesomer Than the day dreams of sick imagination. _F._ I wish your cure; for, to say truth, the Countess Is somewhat odd; as you will see yourself. _R._ ’Tis for my cure I come.—Your servant there, Might he not hear us? _F._ (_to T._). Tristram, just look round 80 If you can see the Countess. _TRISTRAM_ (_aside, going_). What is there here now that I may not know? That I am sent off? Who can this stranger be So suddenly familiar with my master? And comes here for his cure! Here to this haunt Of women and lunatics! I’ll find him out. [_Exit singing to himself._ _F._ My man is trusty and dull; devoted to me. _R._ Excuse my caution: if we were overheard,— If any guessed I were the Duke of Milan, The venture which I make would be my ruin: 90 All that I ask is secrecy. In this letter I have written the Countess from myself, as Duke, Recommendation of myself, the bearer, As one Ricardo, begging for the same Protection in her court for some few days. Present me as a stranger: had I been such You could not have refused. _F._ Trust me to serve you: But give your letter to the major-domo: He attends her in the grounds; when they come by I’ll point him out. Better know nought of me. 100 What think you of the gardens?