Lady S. Your mistress, Tristram: I could tell at once. Sir T. After the play: I cannot see you now. [Withdraws into the Dressing-room.] Lady S. "Do you know that Warwick Groom and "Martha Sackville were lovers? She visited him "every night in his dressing-room at the Parthenon "when he played Romeo----" Sir T. [Entering the Reception-room and closing the door of the Dressing-room.] Give me that letter! Lady S. It's bitten in my brain.-- "--And the reason why he insisted on beginning the "fourth act with the fifth scene of the third act was "the reason you guess at once: it gave them time. "But that was not the only place in the play where "they performed their private intermede. How this "was managed? Ask old Odham, Groom's dresser." Sir T. You stole that letter. Lady S. I stole it. Sir T. Give it me. Lady S. I burnt it in the forest: the flame of it Was like a passion-flower. Sir T. That crude account Of nauseous lust! Lady S. Nothing is nauseous men And women do in any mood at all. But to be old and done--that's nauseous; worse Than death. Why can't we die by taking thought? Sir T. Who wrote it? Lady S. Odham himself. I knew his hand. Sir T. How was this managed? Um? You won't? You must! Odham, being ill and bribed, you took his place, A substitute, in male attire? Lady S. I did! How have you guessed it, Tristram? Sir T. Could there be A way besides as simple--and secure! The infantile device of Cupid, blind Betrayer of himself! Old Odham spied: He saw you in Warwick's arms between the acts. A pleasant memory! Lady S. I have faced it all. Sir T. Why are you come? Lady S. I came like destiny, Prepared and armed with power and purpose, gained In the forest. But I met your mistress: fate Of worlds and women is shifted by such straws. [Re-enter Hildreth.] Sir T. Back to the forest, then.--What is it, Hildreth? Hildreth. St. James's triumphs. Sir T. And without offence? No protest? Hildreth. None. A section seemed at first In tune for ribaldry; but soon his clear Goodwill, the nerve and music of his voice, His gracious looks and speech secured the house. The gallery points his periods with applause; The stalls sit purring like a catshow charmed With extra cream or chin adroitly scratched; And women from the boxes lean and listen Like cows across a gate at milking-time. Sir T. The house is fused then? Hildreth. Mob at once, well pleased With anything. Sir T. And well begun's half done! The prologue's over? Hildreth. No. I meant to note The finish; but Europa Troop despatched Immediate news. She said---- [Re-enter Europa Troop.]