n has lasted.
The veil at length falls from my eyes! I look with disgust on favors
which are stained with the tears of your subjects. Bestow the love which
I can no longer accept upon your weeping country, and learn from a
British princess compassion to your German people. Within an hour I
shall have quitted your dominions. JOANNA NORFOLK"

SERVANTS (exclaiming to each other in astonishment). Quitted the
dominions!

MARSHAL (replaces the letter upon the table in terror). God forbid, my
dear and most excellent lady! The bearer of such a letter would be as
mad as the writer!

LADY MILFORD. That is your concern, you pink of a courtier! Alas! I am
sorry to know that you, and such as you, would choke even in the
utterance of what others dare to do. My advice is that you bake the
letter in a venison pasty, so that his most serene highness may find it
on his plate!

MARSHAL. God preserve me! What presumption! Ponder well, I entreat
you. Reflect on the disgrace which you will bring down upon yourself, my
lady!

LADY MILFORD (turning to the assembled domestics, and addressing them in
the deepest emotion). You seem amazed, good people; and anxiously
awaiting the solution of this riddle? Draw nearer, my friends! You have
served me truly and affectionately; have looked into my eyes rather than
my purse. My pleasure was your study, my approbation your pride! Woe is
me, that the remembrance of your fidelity must be the record of my
unworthiness! Unhappy fate, that the darkest season of my life should
have been the brightest of yours! (Her eyes suffused with tears.) We
must part, my children. Lady Milford has ceased to exist, and Joanna of
Norfolk is too poor to repay your love. What little wealth I have my
treasurer will share among you. This palace belongs to the duke. The
poorest of you will quit it far richer than his mistress! Farewell, my
children! (She extends her hand, which they all in turn kiss, with marks
of sorrow and affection.) I understand you, my good people! Farewell!
forever farewell! (Struggling with her feelings.) I hear the carriage
at the door. (She tears herself away, and is hurrying out when the
MARSHAL arrests her progress.) How, now? Pitiful creature, art thou
still there?

MARSHAL (who all this while has been gazing in vacant astonishment at the
letter). And must I be the person to put this letter into the most
august hands of his most serene highness?

LADY MILFORD. Pitiful creature, even t