TRESHAM. Who, I? You laugh at me.
GUENDOLEN. Has what I'm fain to hope, Arrived then? Does that huge tome show some blot In the Earl's 'scutcheon come no longer back Than Arthur's time?
TRESHAM. When left you Mildred's chamber?
GUENDOLEN. Oh, late enough, I told you! The main thing To ask is, how I left her chamber,--sure, Content yourself, she'll grant this paragon Of Earls no such ungracious...
TRESHAM. Send her here!
TRESHAM. I mean--acquaint her, Guendolen, --But mildly!
TRESHAM. Ah, you guessed aright! I am not well: there is no hiding it. But tell her I would see her at her leisure-- That is, at once! here in the library! The passage in that old Italian book We hunted for so long is found, say, found-- And if I let it slip again... you see, That she must come--and instantly!
GUENDOLEN. I'll die Piecemeal, record that, if there have not gloomed Some blot i' the 'scutcheon!