Oh, infamous city; rebellious city; accursed city; monstrous city--who soaks her holiday dress in blood, and who holds the torch for the executioner! You are afraid of it, aren't you, Jane? Doesn't it seem to you, as it does to me, that it cowardly defies us both; that it is watching us with its hundred thousand flaming eyes--us, feeble, forsaken women that we are, alone and lost in this sepulcher? Jane, do you hear it howl and laugh--that horrible city? Oh, England, all England to him who will destroy London! Would that I could change those torches into fiery brands, those lights into flames, and that illuminated city into a city of _fire_! [_A tremendous outburst from the people outside--applause, confused cries, "There he is! There he is! Death to Fabiani--" The great bell of the Tower begins to toll. At this sound, The Queen breaks into a terrible peal of laughter._ JANE. God! The unfortunate man is leaving the Tower!--You laugh, madame! THE QUEEN. Yes, I laugh! [_She laughs._] Yes, and you will laugh, too. Let me drop those hangings first. It seems to me all the time as if we were not alone, as if that frightful city could see and hear us. [_She drops the white curtain and comes back to Jane._ Now that he is gone, now that there is no more danger, I can tell you about it. Laugh, laugh, let us both laugh at those execrable people who drink blood! Oh, it is grand, Jane! Jane, you tremble for Fabiano? Be at ease, laugh with me, I tell you. Jane, the man they've got, the man who is going to die, the man they think is Fabiano--is not Fabiano. [_She laughs._] JANE. Not Fabiano? THE QUEEN. No! JANE. Then who is it? THE QUEEN. The other! JANE. What other? THE QUEEN. You know well enough! You know him--that workman--that man. Besides, what does it matter? JANE (_trembling with terror_). Gilbert? THE QUEEN. Yes, Gilbert! That is the name. JANE. Madame! Oh, no, madame! Don't say that, madame! Gilbert--it would be too horrible! He has escaped! THE QUEEN. He was escaping when they seized him. They put him under the black veil in Fabiano's place. It is night. The people won't know. Rest easy. JANE (_with a frightful cry_). Ah, madame! But the man I love--it is Gilbert! THE QUEEN. What? What do you say? Are you going crazy? Did you deceive me, too? Ah, it is Gilbert whom you love! Well, what does that matter to me? JANE (_at The Queen's feet, broken-hearted, sobbing, dragging herself on her knees, her hands clasped: the great bell tolls through all this scene_).