still she'd be in danger from this man,
If not permitted to betray himself;
And I, discovered, could no more protect.
Or if, unseen by her, I yet could haunt
Her footsteps like an angel, not for long
Should I remain unseen of other eyes,
That peer from under cowls—not angel-eyes—
Hunting me out, over the stormy earth.
No; I must watch. I can do nothing better.
SCENE II.—A poor cottage. An old Man and Woman sitting together
Man.
How's the poor lady now?
Woman.
She's poorly still.
I fancy every day she's growing thinner.
I am sure she's wasting steadily.
Man.
Has the count
Been here again to-day?
Woman.
No. And I think
He will not come again. She was so proud
The last time he was here, you would have thought
She was a queen at least.
Man.
Remember, wife,
What she has been. Trouble like that throws down
The common folk like us all of a heap:
With folks like her, that are high bred and blood,
It sets the mettle up.
Woman.
All very right;
But take her as she was, she might do worse
Than wed the Count Nembroni.
Man.
Possible.
But are you sure there is no other man
Stands in his way?
Woman.
How can I tell? So be,
He should be here to help her. What she'll do
I am sure I do not know. We cannot keep her.
And for her work, she does it far too well
To earn a living by it. Her times are changed—
She should not give herself such prideful airs.
Man.
Come, come, old wife! you women are so hard
On one another! You speak fair for men,
And make allowances; but when a woman
Crosses your way, you speak the worst of her.
But where is this you're going then to-night?
Do they want me to go as well as you?
Woman.
Yes, you must go, or else it is no use.
They cannot give the money to me, except
My husband go with me. He told me so.
Man.
Well, wife, it's worth the going—but to see:
I don't expect a groat to come of it.
SCENE III.—Kitchen of a small inn. Host and Hostess
Host.
That's a queer customer you've got upstairs!
What the deuce is he?
Hostess.
What is that to us?
He always pays his way, and handsomely.
I wish there were more like him.
Host.
Has he been
At home all day?
Hostess.
He has not stirred a foot
Across the threshold. That's his only fault—
He's always in the way.
Host.
What does he do?
Hostess.
Paces about the room, or sits at the window.
I sometimes make an errand to the cupboard,
To see what he's about: he looks annoyed,
But does not speak a word.
Host.
He must be crazed,
Or else in hiding for some scrape or other.
Hostess.
He has a wild look in his eye sometimes;
