MARY [_speaking_].

_"When daisies pied and violets blue And lady-smocks all silver-white"_-- How now?

HERBERT.

"How now?" That song ... thou wilt sing that?

MARY.

Marry, what mars the song?

HERBERT. Have you forgot Who made it?

MARY. Soft, what idleness! So fine?

So rude? And bid me sing! You get but silence; Or, if I sing,--beshrew me, it shall be A dole of song, a little starveling breath As near to silence as a song can be.

[_She sings under-breath, fantastically._]

_Say how many kisses be Lent and lost twixt you and me?

'Can I tell when they begun?'

Nay, but this were prodigal: Let us learn to count withal.

Since no ending is to spending, Sum our riches, one by one.

'You shall keep the reckoning, Count each kiss while I do sing.'_

HERBERT.

Oh, not these little wounds. You vex my heart; Heal it again with singing,--come, sweet, come.

Into the garden! None shall trouble us.

This place has memories and conscience too: Drown all, my mermaid. Wind them in your hair And drown them, drown them all.

[_He swings open the garden-door for her. At the same moment ANNE's voice is heard approaching._]

ANNE [_without_]. Some music there?

HERBERT.

Perdition! Quick--behind me, love.

[_Swinging the door shut again, and looking through the crack._]

MARY.

'Tis she-- Nan Hughes, 'tis she! How came she here? By heaven, She crosses us to-day. Nan Hughes lights here In a Bank tavern! Nay, I'll not be seen.

Sooner or later it must mean the wreck Of both ... should the Queen know.

HERBERT. The spite of chance!

She talks with someone in the arbor there Whose face I see not. Come, here's doors at least.

[_They cross hastily. MARY opens the door on the left and looks within._]

MARY.

Too thick.... I shall be penned. But guard you this And tell me when they're gone. Stay, stay;--mend all.

If she have seen me,--swear it was not I.

Heaven speed her home, with her new body-guard!

[_Exit, closing door. HERBERT looks out into the garden._]

HERBERT.

By all accursed chances,--none but he!

[_Retires up to stand beside the door, looking out of cas.e.m.e.nt.

Re-enter from the garden, ANNE, followed by THE PLAYER._]

ANNE.

No, 'twas some magic in my ears, I think.

There's no one here. [_Seeing HERBERT._]

But yes, there's someone here:-- The inn-keeper. Are you-- Saint Catherine's bones!

My Lord of Herbert. Sir, you could not look More opportune. But for this gentleman--

HERBERT [_bowing_].

My friend, this long time since,--

ANNE.

Marry, your friend?

THE PLAYER [_regarding HERBERT searchingly_].

This long time since.

ANNE. Nay, is it so, indeed?

[_To HERBERT._] My day's fulfilled of blunders! O sweet sir, How can I tell you? But I'll tell you all If you'll but bear me escort from this place Where none of us belongs. Yours is the first Familiar face I've seen this afternoon!

HERBERT [_apart_].

A sweet a.s.surance.

[_Aloud._] But you seek ... you need Some rest--some cheer, some--Will you step within?

[_Indicating tap-room._]

The tavern is deserted, but--

ANNE. Not here!

I've been here quite an hour. Come, citywards, To Whitehall! I have had enough of bears To quench my longing till next Whitsuntide.

Down to the river, pray you.

HERBERT. Sooth, at once?

ANNE.

At once, at once.

[_To THE PLAYER._] I crave your pardon, sir, For sundering your friendships. I've heard say A woman always comes between two men To their confusion. You shall drink amends Some other day. I must be safely home.

THE PLAYER [_rea.s.sured by HERBERT's reluctance to go._]

It joys me that your trials have found an end; And for the rest, I wish you prosperous voyage; Which needs not, with such halcyon weather toward.

HERBERT [_apart_].

It cuts: and yet he knows not. Can it pa.s.s?