_Lal_. I did not know, Jacinta, you were in waiting. Sit down!--let not my presence trouble you-- Sit down!--for I am humble, most humble. _Jac. (aside_). 'Tis time. (_Jacinta seats herself in a side-long manner upon the chair, resting her elbows upon the back, and regarding her mistress with a contemptuous look. Lalage continues to read._) _Lal_. "It in another climate, so he said, Bore a bright golden flower, but not i' this soil!" (_pauses--turns over some leaves and resumes_.) "No lingering winters there, nor snow, nor shower-- But Ocean ever to refresh mankind Breathes the shrill spirit of the western wind" Oh, beautiful!--most beautiful!--how like To what my fevered soul doth dream of Heaven! O happy land! (_pauses_) She died!--the maiden died! O still more happy maiden who couldst die! Jacinta! (_Jacinta returns no answer, and Lalage presently resumes_.) Again!--a similar tale Told of a beauteous dame beyond the sea! Thus speaketh one Ferdinand in the words of the play-- "She died full young"--one Bossola answers him-- "I think not so--her infelicity Seemed to have years too many"--Ah, luckless lady! Jacinta! (_still no answer_.) Here's a far sterner story-- But like--oh, very like in its despair-- Of that Egyptian queen, winning so easily A thousand hearts--losing at length her own. She died. Thus endeth the history--and her maids Lean over her and keep--two gentle maids With gentle names--Eiros and Charmion! Rainbow and Dove!--Jacinta! _Jac_. (_pettishly_). Madam, what is it? _Lal_. Wilt thou, my good Jacinta, be so kind As go down in the library and bring me The Holy Evangelists? _Jac_. Pshaw! (_Exit_) _Lal_. If there be balm For the wounded spirit in Gilead, it is there! Dew in the night time of my bitter trouble Will there be found--"dew sweeter far than that Which hangs like chains of pearl on Hermon hill." (_re-enter Jacinta, and throws a volume on the table_.) There, ma'am, 's the book. (_aside_.) Indeed she is very troublesome. _Lal_. (_astonished_). What didst thou say, Jacinta? Have I done aught To grieve thee or to vex thee?--I am sorry. For thou hast served me long and ever been Trustworthy and respectful. (_resumes her reading_.)