My wife! To her I owed everything.

QUEEN. She was devoted to you, wasn't she?

LORD B. I never read the depth of her devotion-till after her death. Then,
Madam--this I have told to nobody but yourself--then I found among her
papers--addressed "to my dear husband"--a message, written only a few days
before her death, with a hand shaken by that nerve-racking and fatal
malady which she endured so patiently--begging me to marry again.

(_The Queen is now really crying, and finds speech difficult._)

QUEEN. And you, you--? Dear Lord Beaconsfield; did you mean--had you ever
meant----?

LORD B. I did not then, Madam; nor have I ever done so since. It is enough
if I allow myself--to love.

QUEEN. Oh, yes, yes; I understand--better than others would. For that has
always been my own feeling.

LORD B. In the history of my race, Madam, there has been a great tradition
of faithfulness between husbands and wives. For the hardness of our
hearts, we are told, Moses permitted us to give a writing of divorcement.
But we have seldom acted on it. In my youth I became a Christian; I
married a Christian. But that was no reason for me to desert the nobler
traditions of my race--for they are in the blood and in the heart. When my
wife died I had no thought to marry again; and when I came upon that
tender wish, still I had no thought for it; my mind would not change.
Circumstances that have happened since have sealed irrevocably my
resolution-never to marry again.

QUEEN. Oh, I think that is so wise, so right, so noble of you!

(_The old Statesman rises, pauses, appears to hesitate, then in a voice
charged with emotion says_)

LORD B. Madam, will you permit me to kiss your hand?

(_The hand graciously given, and the kiss fervently implanted, he falls
back once more to a respectful distance. But the emotional excitement of
the interview has told upon him, and it is in a wavering voice of
weariness that he now speaks_.)

LORD B. You have been very forbearing with me, Madam, not to indicate that
I have outstayed either my welcome or your powers of endurance. Yet so
much conversation must necessarily have tired you. May I then crave
permission, Madam, to withdraw. For, to speak truly, I do need some rest.

QUEEN. Yes, my dear friend, go and rest yourself! But before you go, will
you not wait, and take a glass of wine with me?

(_He bows, and she rings_.)

And there is just one other thing I wish to say before we part.

LORD B.