SIR GILES TANGILL: newly wed to LADY KATHERINE
LADY KATHERINE TANGILL: newly wed to SIR GILES
LILLIAN: maidservant to LADY KATHERINE
JOHN: manservant to SIR GILES
ACT II, scene i
LADY KATHERINE’s chambers; GILES and KATHERINE sit together.
KAT: Husband, as your man is come from my father I must go and fetch the missive he brought. We will not be parted long.
GIL: No, for we cannot, now you are part of me you cannot part from me. Do not fret, dear one, I shall await your return with patience and good cheer.
KAT kisses his cheek and exits; LILLIAN enters.
LIL: Good sir, is there aught I can do for you?
GIL: I think there is naught I need, so aught you can do is not for me.
LIL: Do you not mislike it that your bride should speak alone with your manservant? Aside He will now; I will that he proves as weak as I think him.
GIL: Well that is forward, I had not thought so far at all and you ought not speak so near.
LIL: Do forgive me, my lord, ‘twas but my thoughts aloud.
GIL: And you suppose I desire to hear your thoughts?
LIL: On no account, sir, do I think it is my thoughts you desire at all. Why should they interest you? I beg your pardon for my boldness, I will be silent.
GIL: You think my lady be not true?
LIL: Sir, I would not make such a claim, I am but her maid.
GIL: And so you know her comings and goings, her musings and thoughts, the whispers that escape her in quiet times and the every sigh she lets out when nearly alone. Do not think to trick me, Lillian, I know you to be more than only maid of such dull stuff as that.
LIL: It is true I am with your lady often, but I do not mean to say that I know her mind, or any other. I am my own, and not hers alone.
GIL: You did suggest that there are doings beyond what I know, and I will have you tell me.
LIL: You will have me, my lord? I am, as I said, my own, and not yours entirely. I must be at least as bound to my lady as I am to you.
GIL: You are bound to me, Lillian.
LIL: I am bound to you. But I am my own too, and my lady’s whether I would or no.
GIL: That’s as it may be. Now tell me of my lady’s doings.
LIL: Does it not seem odd to you that she should be gone so long?
GIL: Does she not wish to reply to her father’s message? That seems not odd.
LIL: And that she should not come back to her desk here beside you for ink and such?
GIL: Such is distracting. Tell me your suspicions outright, I’ll not have this dance around the truth, a minuet of lies from a maid.
LIL: I do not dance, my lord, I am not so nimble with deceit. My suspicions are unproved and I dare not give them voice. They must lie in my breast unawaked.
GIL: I will have them out.
LIL: My lord, your lady is seeming close with your manservant, and I fear closer than seeming.
GIL: You think my lady cuckolds me with mine own man? We are but newly wed.
LIL: It does happen, sir. Perchance it is the very fact that he is but a servant that draws her, for some find attraction in different.
GIL: Why should that be so?
LIL: For some, the distance between them is lure, and they hunger for the person across that chasm. For some, the vast distance between a noble and a servant is too tempting to pass by.
GIL: What, that he is so far below her she needs must climb atop him?
LIL: My lord! I do protest, I said naught so bold. Truthfully told that is what I believe, for I understand the temptation of that which is close enough to feel its warmth but so far as to lose all hope of it.
GIL: My lady was innocent when she came to my bed.
LIL: Sir, if you want not to hear what I say then I shall be silent.
GIL: I want very much to find out what you know, or indeed what you suspect.
LIL: How know you she was whole when you knew her first?
GIL: There is proof, is there not? You launder the soiled sheets of the household and know it yourself. The innocence of a virgin is bright against pure white.
LIL: Crafty women know tricks in the bedchamber, my lord.
GIL: You believe my bride forged virginity for herself?
LIL: I have heard of ways, sir. There was a lady (though no lady, truly) in Venice once, all the maids talk of her for she was no maid, and the innocence she bled was but strawberry jam. She profited by the lie until she was found out, and her reward was bitter indeed.
GIL: Well then go you to find out the truth of it with your tongue, and tell me the taste.
If it be the sweetness of a lie you have my gratitude, and I will have my lady’s innocence on toast.
LIL: I do not say she did it.
GIL: You do; the truth lies behind your words.
LIL: This is a dirty deed you ask of me, to betray my lady’s trust and rumple through soiled linens to find a trick.
GIL: It is nothing sinful to find the truth, and if the ways are unclean it is your own doing. I will want proof. I do not trust your dirty ways, Lillian, for no simple maid knows such tricks as you do.
LIL: I am a lady’s maidservant, my lord, and women gossip.
GIL: Then you say all the tricks you know are in word only?
LIL: My lord may have cause to discover the truth of them. I go then, sir, to search your bed linens, and I will return to you when I have found a trick to show you.
LILLIAN exits; KATHERINE enters.
KAT: Ill tidings, my lord.
GIL: Oh, I do not want for bad news today. Your eyes are rimmed with grief and welling, my lady, tell me what is wrong.
KAT: My father is not well. He may die.
GIL: My love, this is dreadful and sad. Shall we go to visit him? Have you made arrangements?
KAT: I waited for your word, my lord, but I have spoken with your man John about the journey.
GIL: aside You spoke, and that is all?
Very well, my lady, shall we go on the morrow? Can all be ready by then?
KAT: I do not know if all will be ready, but I fear to stay.
GIL: As you wish, my dear, so shall it be.
GILLES exits. JOHN enters; LILLIAN enters and hides to listen to their conversation.
JOHN: My lady, I have another message for you?
KAT: From my father?
KAT: Not? Then from whom? And must it be seen now, when all is so unhappy?
JOHN: More is unhappy than you know, dear lady. Oh, do not step away from me!
KAT: This cannot be, John. I thought you the best man I had ever met, long ago, better than I, but I did not know you then. It was meant to come to naught.
LIL: aside So there is no proof to be found. Little matter, guilt is as easy to fabricate as innocence, and they are half in love already. My lord will listen to me.
JOHN: You could know me now.
KAT: Please, good John, I love my lord. I cannot love you too.
JOHN: You could.
KAT: I am sorry but I cannot. I could not hide from my lord and I do not want to. You are not worth the risk.
JOHN: Is that the root of the matter then? I am worth less. I mean nothing.
KAT: Your words mean nothing to me. You are still your own. Do not be bound unto me.
JOHN: I am yours whether I would or no. And you are mine too, although you would not own it.
LIL: aside Would that I have better luck in love. I did not know that my words were so true. Perchance I will repeat some of this conversation to my lord. Perhaps he will listen.
KAT: You must go, my lord will be awaiting me and I must dry my eyes.
JOHN: I will too be waiting for you.
KAT: Goodbye, John.
He kisses her and exits. LILLIAN enters.
LIL: Is there aught you need, my lady?
KAT: Oh, Lillian, there are a million things I need and none that you can give me.
LIL: Why so distraught, dear lady? Can I not help?
KAT: You are good with a needle and thread, but even you cannot undo this monstrous knot of lives entwined. It is too complex and jumbled for me to unravel. I love my lord, you know.
LIL: I do.
KAT: And I love you well, Lillian.
LIL: I am honored by your trust, my lady. You know I love you and am your own.
KAT: If only you could indeed untie the snarls of lives, dear Lillian.
LIL: I do only what I can, and that is enough for me. I am sorry it seems not for you.
KAT: You do too much for me, in truth. We shall leave tomorrow for the house of my father, and God grant us the speed to be there before he dies.
LIL: Yes, my lady.
LIL: Now it falls to me, this twined mass, and I shall be like Alexander and refuse the puzzle. I am no simple maid to sit and untangle that which is hopelessly matted and sigh at the pains of it; I will take up a blade and slice it in two. Mayhap if I cut with enough skill I can keep half for myself, and let the rest of the knot fall. The tension will abate then, will it not? When nobody is left to pull on the strings of it?
I do love my lady well, and it may be that she will forgive me if her husband is faithless, and believes her so. She cannot want John and she will not want my lord, and I will stand with a severed knot in my hand and can craft something new of it. I shall be like the very fates themselves, snipping and weaving lives remorseless. ‘Twould be easier if this new marriage did not pull so on my heartstrings, and if my lady’s grief did not prick me as it does. E’en so I am all wrapped in her, and can see no other way but to cut her free.