FABIANI (_aside_).
The devil! This is a dangerous man.
THE MAN.
Shall I tell you more? You have seduced this girl, and during the last month she has received you twice in her house at night. This is the third time. The beauty is waiting for you.
FABIANI.
Keep still. Do you want hush-money? How much do you want?
THE MAN.
We will see about that by-and-by. Now, my lord, shall I tell you why you have seduced this girl?
FABIANI.
By my faith! because I was in love with her.
THE MAN.
No. You were not in love with her.
FABIANI.
I wasn"t in love with Jane.
THE MAN.
No more than with the Queen! Love, oh, no! calculation, yes.
FABIANI.
Why, fool, you are no man at all! You are my conscience dressed up like a Jew.
THE MAN.
I will speak to you as if I were your conscience. This is your plan.
You are the Queen"s favorite. The Queen has given you the garter, an earldom, and a lordship--empty things, all of them. The garter is a rag; the earldom is a word; the lordship is the right to have your head cut off. You wanted something more. You wanted fine lands, fine bailiwicks, fine castles, fine revenues in fine English pounds. Well, King Henry VIII. confiscated the estates of Lord Talbot, who was beheaded sixteen years ago. You got Queen Mary to give you Lord Talbot"s estates. But, to make the gift valid, it is necessary that Lord Talbot should have died without heirs. And since Lord Talbot died for Queen Mary and for her mother, Catherine of Aragon, since Lord Talbot was a Papist, and since the Queen is a Papist, it is not at all doubtful, if there existed such an heir or an heiress, that Queen Mary would take back the estates from you, great favorite though you are, and out of duty, grat.i.tude and religion, return them to the heir or heiress. You were quite easy on that score, for Lord Talbot had never had but one little daughter; she disappeared from her cradle at the time of her father"s execution, and all England believed her to be dead. But your spies have lately discovered that during the night in which Lord Talbot and his partisans were exterminated by Henry VIII., a child was mysteriously brought to an engraver on London Bridge, and that it was probable that this child, reared under the name of Jane, was Jane Talbot, the little girl who had disappeared. It is true that the written proofs of her birth were lacking, but they might be found any day. The discovery was unpleasant. It would be hard to see one"s self forced some day to give back Shrewsbury, Wexford, which is a fine city, and the magnificent earldom of Waterford, to a little girl! What was to be done? You searched for a way to set aside this young girl, and to destroy her. An honest man would have had her killed or poisoned.
You, my lord, have done better--you have dishonored her.
FABIANI.
Insolent fool!
THE MAN.
It is your conscience which is speaking, my lord. Another man would have taken this young girl"s life; you have taken her honor, and, consequently, her future. Queen Mary is a prude, although she has lovers herself.
FABIANI.
This man goes to the bottom of everything.
THE MAN.
The Queen"s health is bad; the Queen may die, and then you, the favorite, will fall shattered on her tomb. The actual proofs of this young girl"s rank may be found; and then, if the Queen is dead, Jane Talbot, dishonored though she be, will be recognized as Lord Talbot"s heiress. You have foreseen that too. You are a handsome young cavalier; you have won her love; she has given herself to you; at the worst, you can marry her. Don"t deprecate your scheme, my lord; I consider it sublime. If I were not myself, I would like to be you.
FABIANI.
Thank you.
THE MAN.
You have managed the matter very skillfully. You have concealed your name. You are safe as far as the Queen is concerned. The poor girl thinks she has been seduced by a n.o.bleman from Somerset county, named Amyas Pawlet.
FABIANI.
All--he knows it all! Well, come to the point. What do you want of me?
THE MAN.
My lord, suppose some one had in his possession the papers which prove the birth, existence, and rights of Talbot"s heiress! It would make you as poor as my ancestor Job, Don Fabiano, and would leave you no better castles than your castles in Spain, which would be very hard for you.
FABIANI.
Yes! But no one has those papers.
THE MAN.
Yes. Some one has them.
FABIANI.
Who?
THE MAN.
I.
FABIANI.
You, miserable wretch! It isn"t true! Jew speaks, Jew lies.
THE MAN.
I have got the papers.
FABIANI.