_R._ All this hour I have seemed in Paradise: and the fair prospect Hath quieted my spirit: I think I sail Into the windless haven of my life To-day with happy omens: as the stir And sleep-forbidding rattle of the journey Was like my life till now. Here all is peace: The still fresh air of this October morning, With its resigning odours; the rich hues Wherein the gay leaves revel to their fall; 110 The deep blue sky; the misty distances, And splashing fountains; and I thought I heard A magic service of meandering music Threading the glades and stealing on the lawns. Was I mistaken? _Re-enter Tristram unperceived; he stands by listening at back, as if waiting to be observed._ _F._ Nay, nay: there was music. But why the jocund morn so dissolutely Forestalls the faint and lulling charms of eve I must explain. The Countess, whom you court, Hath an unwholesome temper; what its nature You, when you have seen it, will be as like to guess As any other. She hath a restless spirit 121 And eager; and, what seems a sign of note, Suffers from jealousy without a cause. She is full of fancies; and hath, like a school-girl, Drawn up a code of her peculiar notions, Whereby, in place of commonsense and manners, She rules her petty court with tyrannies Of fine and forfeit. Then, although she lives Pampered with luxury, and hath a sense O’ergreedy of all that’s offered, yet she takes 130 Her pleasure feverously, and pines in plenty. ’Tis a derangement:—the music which you heard Was a diversion of my own contrivance To pass the hour: the evil spirit within her Yields most to music. _R._ What you say is strange. _F._ ’Tis unaccountable. _T._ (_coming forward_). And so you’d say, Knew you the cause. _F._ Tristram! _R._ (_aside_). Now damn this fellow. (_To T._) Perhaps you know it, sir? _T._ I know it, yes: But may not speak. _F._ I bid you speak and show My friend your wisdom. _T._ To your secrets then 140 Add this. The Countess is in love. _R. and F._ In love! _T._ In love. _R. and F._ With whom? _T._ With whom.... _R._ But say with whom. _T._ Stay. I will say with whom. ’Tis one to whom she dare not make avowal. _F._ Say whom you mean. _T._ Why, who but me! _F._ The fool! We wish not for your jests. Where is the Countess? _T._ She is coming by the lake, sir. _F._ Stand aside, We have business now. _T._ (_aside, going_). The fish bite very well: I hooked them both at first cast of my fly. (_Sings to himself._) _F._ ’Twould make us brothers, Richard. _R._ Brothers?—how? 150