_D._ There’s no person, Frederick, That more regards your health, nor more regrets 640 Your slightest ailing than I do. I fear You have done me wrong concealing from my knowledge The true state of your health ... but if ’twas kindness To spare me anxiety.... _F._ I assure, my lady.... _D._ I have thought you looked of late careworn and pale. _F._ My health is excellent. _D._ I am glad to hear it. _F._ The expression of your good will reassures me Your ladyship will humour me. _D._ And I would Most gladly, were it a matter that admitted A bearer of less trust. But as it stands 650 There’s nothing for it but your going to-night. You are out of sorts, Frederick: maybe the travelling Is just the change you need. Give me that pen, I’ll write the letter at once. (_F. gives and D. writes._) If you fear cold You can close up the coach. The journey is short: ’Twill cheer you, and do you good. _F._ (_aside_). Curse on my fate. How can I escape? What devil hath now possessed her To thwart me thus? And after all my service To insist: so small a matter. _D._ (_giving_). Here is the letter. 659 Deliver it, please, with your own hand. Leave here At six o’clock to-night. Take Tristram with you. ’Twill make me more at ease on your behalf, In case you are ill. (_gathering up papers._) And whatsoe’er you do Return by noon to-morrow: at which hour I need the answer. You will oblige me much. I wish you a pleasant journey. [_Exit taking the papers._ _F._ Is that a blindfold player? Who is it to, This letter? The Duke of Milan! Ha! can it be! Is that the mischief? He is discovered, and I Suspected of complicity, and thus 670 She would expose us both? _Re-enter Tristram._ We are both undone. _T._ (_half aside_). Another letter! came this like the last Borne on the winds? _F._ (_aside_). She hath recognised the Duke, No doubt. ’Twas natural. But why suspect That I am in his secret? Till I am sure, I must still play my part. _T._ (_aside_). Secrets again: More mysteries. _F._ (_to T._). Order me horses, Tristram, At six o’clock. _T._ What! is she off? _F._ Who off? _T._ The lady you should meet to-night. _F._ Plague on you! A coach at six: and be yourself prepared 680 To accompany me. _T._ Where go we? _Re-enter Ricardo._ _F._ To the devil. Order the horses. _T._ Is our destination A secret? _F._ No. _T._ Then who will ride postilion?