Wait he must--
Her trance again. She neither sees nor hears,
And may not speak for hours.
LADY MAGDALEN. Unhappiest
Of Queens and wives and women!
ALICE (_in the foreground with_ LADY MAGDALEN).
And all along
Of Philip.
LADY MAGDALEN. Not so loud! Our Clarence there
Sees ever such an aureole round the Queen,
It gilds the greatest wronger of her peace,
Who stands the nearest to her.
ALICE. Ay, this Philip;
I used to love the Queen with all my heart--
God help me, but methinks I love her less
For such a dotage upon such a man.
I would I were as tall and strong as you.
LADY MAGDALEN. I seem half-shamed at times to be so tall.
ALICE. You are the stateliest deer in all the herd--
Beyond his aim--but I am small and scandalous,
And love to hear bad tales of Philip.
LADY MAGDALEN. Why?
I never heard him utter worse of you
Than that you were low-statured.
ALICE. Does he think
Low stature is low nature, or all women's
Low as his own?
LADY MAGDALEN. There you strike in the nail.
This coarseness is a want of phantasy.
It is the low man thinks the woman low;
Sin is too dull to see beyond himself.
ALICE. Ah, Magdalen, sin is bold as well as dull.
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