“Persons present in the vaulted chamber: Cunegonda and Damoride. Cunegonda speaks. ‘Damoride!’ ‘Madam?’ ‘Who lies ill in the chamber above us?’ ‘Madam, the noble lady Angelica.’ (A pause. Cunegonda speaks again.) ‘Damoride!’ ‘Madam?’ ‘How does Angelica like you?’ ‘Madam, the noble lady, sweet and good to all who approach her, is sweet and good to me.’ ‘Have you attended on her, Damoride?’ ‘Sometimes, madam, when the nurse was weary.’ ‘Has she taken her healing medicine from your hand.’ ‘Once or twice, madam, when I happened to be by.’ ‘Damoride, take this key and open the casket on the table there.’ (Damoride obeys.) ‘Do you see a green vial in the casket?’ ‘I see it, madam.’ ‘Take it out.’ (Damoride obeys.) ‘Do you see a liquid in the green vial? can you guess what it is?’ ‘No, madam.’ ‘Shall I tell you?’ (Damoride bows respectfully ) ‘Poison is in the vial.’ (Damoride starts; she shrinks from the poison; she would fain put it aside. Her mistress signs to her to keep it in her hand; her mistress speaks.) ‘Damoride, I have told you one of my secrets; shall I tell you another?’ (Damoride waits, fearing what is to come. Her mistress speaks.) ‘I hate the Lady Angelica. Her life stands between me and the joy of my heart. You hold her life in your hand.’ (Damoride drops on her knees; she is a devout person; she crosses herself, and then she speaks.) ‘Mistress, you terrify me. Mistress, what do I hear?’ (Cunegonda advances, stands over her, looks down on her with terrible eyes, whispers the next words.) ‘Damoride! the Lady Angelica must die--and I must not be suspected. The Lady Angelica must die--and by your hand.’” He paused again. To sip the wine once more? No; to drink a deep draught of it this time. Was the stimulant beginning to fail him already? I looked at him attentively as he laid himself back again in his chair to consider for a moment before he went on. The flush on his face was as deep as ever; but the brightness in his eyes was beginning to fade already. I had noticed that he spoke more and more slowly as he advanced to the later dialogue of the scene. Was he feeling the effort of invention already? Had the time come when the wine had done all that the wine could do for him? We waited. Ariel sat watching him with vacantly staring eyes and vacantly open mouth. Ben jamin, impenetrably expecting the signal, kept his open note-book on his knee, covered by his hand. Miserrimus Dexter went on: