RD (returning). Yes, in his duchy, that was well said--and it
is only a royal duchy, Sophy, that could in the least excuse my weakness.
You say the world envies me! Poor thing! It should rather pity me!
Believe me, of all who drink of the streams of royal bounty there is none
more miserable than the sovereign's favorite, for he who is great and
mighty in the eyes of others comes to her but as the humble suppliant!
It is true that by the talisman of his greatness he can realize every
wish of my heart as readily as the magician calls forth the fairy palace
from the depths of the earth! He can place the luxuries of both Indies
upon my table, turn the barren wilderness to a paradise, can bid the
broad rivers of his land play in triumphal arches over my path, or expend
all the hard-earned gains of his subjects in a single feu-de-joie to my
honor. But can he school his heart to respond to one great or ardent
emotion? Can he extort one noble thought from his weak and indigent
brain? Alas! my heart is thirsting amid all this ocean of splendor; what
avail, then, a thousand virtuous sentiments when I am only permitted to
indulge in the pleasures of the senses.

SOFHY (regarding her with surprise). Dear lady, you amaze me! how long
is it since I entered your service?

LADY MILFORD. Do you ask because this is the first day on which you have
learnt to know me? I have sold my honor to the prince, it is true, but
my heart is still my own--a heart, dear Sophy, which even yet may be
worth the acceptance of an honorable man--a heart over which the
pestilential blast of courtly corruption has passed as the breath which
for a moment dims the mirror's lustre. Believe me my spirit would long
since have revolted against this miserable thraldom could my ambition
have submitted to see another advanced to my place.

SOPHY. And could a heart like yours so readily surrender itself to mere
ambition?

LADY MILFORD (with energy). Has it not already been avenged? nay, is it
not even at this very moment making me pay a heavy atonement (with
emphasis laying her hand on SOPHY'S shoulder)? Believe me, Sophy, woman
has but to choose between ruling and serving, but the utmost joy of power
is a worthless possession if the mightier joy of being slave to the man
we love be denied us.

SOPHY. A truth, dear lady, which I could least of all have expected to
hear from your lips!

LADY MILFORD. And wherefore, Sophy? Does not woman show, by her
childish mode