alling PHEDRO._]

VOICE OF PHEDRO

Majesty, I come.

[_He enters. The DUCHESS gives him a fearful look, which he
returns with a grim smile._]

QUEEN

You promised significant news for me after midnight and in the
apartment of the Duchess. I have come. It is long beyond midnight.
What have you to say?

PHEDRO

We are strictly in private, your Majesty?

QUEEN

Assure yourself. I had some feeling about it myself a few minutes ago.

[_PHEDRO steps at once to the door where the mountebank is
concealed, but the DUCHESS with a haughty look actually
forestalls him, opening the door herself. GWYMPLANE steps into
the room. The QUEEN pretends to be speechless. The PRINCE is._]

[_stiffly_] Your Grace, the Duchess of Beaumont will please explain.

DUCHESS

Oh, this mountebank was merely seeking the blind girl from his troupe,
who had been admitted, or possibly abducted, into the palace.

QUEEN

Abducted, really? By whom? For whom?

DUCHESS [_with a glance at CHARLES_]

We do not know, but we guess possibly.

[_At the word "abducted" GWYMPLANE steps menacingly up to the
PRINCE. The QUEEN catches the look of hauteur and hatred that is
exchanged between them. She hastily discovers some growing
discomfort from which she slides away in her usual fashion by
pursuing another channel of thought._]

QUEEN

Nevertheless, why does he seek his partner in your Grace's closet?

PRINCE

Josephine, good God--what are you?

DUCHESS

What you are or would be, Charles--a star of the nobility, shedding
its single glory for the last time.

QUEEN

Come, come, cease your language. Why was this mountebank in your
Grace's closet?

DUCHESS

He flew to the nearest door in the opposite direction from whence came
your Majesty's voice. I suppose he lost his head in his embarrassment.
That is a quality of the lower classes.

QUEEN

Your answers are tedious evasions. They explain nothing save what you
wish to conceal--your dishonour. [_she turns to GWYMPLANE_]
Mountebank, I think you have ruined and frustrated the life of a most
important personage in our court.

PHEDRO

Hold, hold. A bat has not torn a lily as you suppose, your Majesty.

QUEEN

No? Then what _has_ happened, Phedro? And do drop your metaphor. We
are not wise enough so late to do it justice.

PHEDRO

Two stars have blundered together, that is all. Her Grace the Duchess
of Beaumont and His