This is the story, Warwick. My husband knew: Blackmail, or wanton mischief, Odham meant, And wrote him; but he died, old Odham did, If you remember, on my wedding-day. My husband never told me. A month ago I found old Odham's letter, and knew by it The fire and fuel of my husband's hate. My husband loved me long; and I loved him, Although I married him in a pique at you: People are made that way: a man and woman That pig together come to love each other. Blister my tongue! It is not I that speak-- Only the ruins of me, the broken bits.-- My husband's love being dead and mine being dead-- That kind of love dies out, and when it dies It's dead indeed, in women: dead love being turned To festering jealousy and hate in him By reason of the letter he ignored When I was young and queen of hearts--I used To think it beautiful of me to keep Myself for Tristram: I had, you know, A thousand lovers, Warwick: is it true I was as tempting as they said and sang? Groom. All men adored you, Martha: doubt it not. Your shape, your walk, your talk, your mouth, your eyes, Body and soul, all men desired you, dear. Lady S. I shall die happy, Warwick.--My husband's hate, My horror of myself were killing me, When Gervase came, my cousin Gervase; he Whose play it is to-night. Did some one say They're trampling him to death? But that can't be! Groom. Oh, that's impossible! Lady S. I dreamt it, Warwick.-- My cousin Gervase, bishop and genius, best Of angels always, with a wonderful Injunction from the Universe, a most Authentic mandate, severed us; and me He carried to the forest, there to clothe My naked fancy with the Universe, A sinless, Godless Universe of his. It seems to me a matter of little moment Whether there is a God or not; but Sin Is great--the greatest: all is death save Sin: That is _my_ message, Warwick! Every one Must have a message now: the only way To individualize. Warwick, have _you_ A message? Groom. I have a message, Martha; one I shall deliver shortly. Lady S. Tell it now. Groom. Not now; and not to you. Lady S. In everything, My dearest love, you shall be absolute Warwick, And tell me not, or tell me as you choose. Groom. I see how much you need to talk. My heart Is listening: speak your heart out, child.