Rochester [drawing a long breath.] At last! at last!
Dame Guggligoy.Be prudent. Above all, come what come may,
Name not my name—they'd burn me at the stake.
Rochester.Fear not.—Go, walk about a bit.
[Aside, looking after her as she leaves the stage.
Her bones
Are dry enough to make a cheerful blaze!
Scene 7.—Lady Frances, Lord Rochester.
Rochester [aside.]At last I'm free of her.—I'll risk the throw!
What loveliness and grace! celestial creature!
I'll reconnoitre first, ere I attack.
A maid's a fortress, I have oft remarked.
The winks that one bestows, the deference,
The artful manner, and the gallant speech,—
These are the trenches dug in zigzag course;
The declaration's the assault; the quatrain—
Surrender. In this case the common rules
I cannot follow; therefore I'll abridge
These preparations.
[He approaches Frances.
[Aloud, bowing.] Miss—My lady!—
Lady Frances [turning, with an air of surprise.] Sir!
Rochester [aside.]Her glance doth strike me dumb.
Lady Frances [smiling.] Ah! 'tis the chaplain.
Rochester.Accurst canonicals! In vain do I
Assume the most coquettish, killing air,—
In me she sees nought but a canting Roundhead!
Lady Frances.O holy man, give me your blessing, pray.
