_Jac_. (_aside_.) I can't believe She has any more jewels--no--no--she gave me all. _Lal_. What didst thou say, Jacinta? Now I bethink me Thou hast not spoken lately of thy wedding. How fares good Ugo?--and when is it to be? Can I do aught?--is there no further aid Thou needest, Jacinta? _Jac_. (_aside_.) Is there no _further_ aid! That's meant for me. I'm sure, madam, you need not Be always throwing those jewels in my teeth. _Lal_. Jewels! Jacinta,--now indeed, Jacinta, I thought not of the jewels. _Jac_. Oh, perhaps not! But then I might have sworn it. After all, There's Ugo says the ring is only paste, For he's sure the Count Castiglione never Would have given a real diamond to such as you; And at the best I'm certain, madam, you cannot Have use for jewels _now_. But I might have sworn it. (_Exit_) (_Lalage bursts into tears and leans her head upon the table--after a short pause raises it_.) _Lal_. Poor Lalage!--and is it come to this? Thy servant maid!--but courage!--'tis but a viper Whom thou hast cherished to sting thee to the soul! (_taking up the mirror_) Ha! here at least's a friend--too much a friend In earlier days--a friend will not deceive thee. Fair mirror and true! now tell me (for thou canst) A tale--a pretty tale--and heed thou not Though it be rife with woe. It answers me. It speaks of sunken eyes, and wasted cheeks, And beauty long deceased--remembers me, Of Joy departed--Hope, the Seraph Hope, Inurned and entombed!--now, in a tone Low, sad, and solemn, but most audible, Whispers of early grave untimely yawning For ruined maid. Fair mirror and true!--thou liest not! _Thou_ hast no end to gain--no heart to break-- Castiglione lied who said he loved---- Thou true--he false!--false!--false! (_While she speaks, a monk enters her apartment and approaches unobserved_) _Monk_. Refuge thou hast, Sweet daughter! in Heaven. Think of eternal things! Give up thy soul to penitence, and pray!