ill-treatment, which
extended to pulling her about by the hair, the return of the lover,
notified by a song behind the scenes, a dangerously affectionate
meeting, interrupted by the husband, a fierce clashing of swords, mutual
slaughter by the two gentlemen, and the lady dying of grief on the top
of her lover.

Such was the argument of this tragedy, which Giles Headley pronounced to
be very dreary pastime, indeed he was amusing himself with an exchange
of comfits with a youth who sat next him all the time--for he had found
Stephen utterly deaf to aught but the tragedy, following every gesture
with eager eyes, lips quivering, and eyes filling at the strains of the
love songs, though they were in their native Italian, of which he
understood not a word. He rose up with a heavy groan when all was over,
as if not yet disenchanted, and hardly answered when his uncle spoke to
him afterwards. It was to ask whether the Dragon party were to return
at once to London, or to accompany the Court to Gravelines, where, it
had just been announced, the King intended to pay a visit to his nephew,
the Emperor.

Neither Stephen nor Giles knew, but when they reached their own quarters
they found that Smallbones had received an intimation that there might
be jousts, and that the offices of the armourers would be required. He
was very busy packing up his tools, but loudly hilarious, and Sir John
Fulford, with a flask of wine beside him, was swaggering and shouting
orders to the men as though he were the head of the expedition.

Revelations come in strange ways. Perhaps that Italian play might be
called Galeotto to Stephen Birkenholt. It affected him all the more
because he was not distracted by the dialogue, but was only powerfully
touched by the music, and, in the gestures of the lovers, felt all the
force of sympathy. It was to him like a kind of prophetic mirror,
revealing to him the true meaning of all he had ever felt for Dennet
Headley, and of his vexation and impatience at seeing her bestowed upon
a dull and indifferent lout like her kinsman, who not only was not good
enough for her, but did not even love her, or accept her as anything but
his title to the Dragon court. He now thrilled and tingled from head to
foot with the perception that all this meant love--love to Dennet; and
in every act of the drama he beheld only himself, Giles, and Dennet.
Watching at first with a sweet fascination, his feelings changed, now to
strong