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Dart. Nay, you are scarcely right there, sage; you might at least have called him Burgo-master; but let it pass. She loves me, I hope? (Bar. nods.) I knew it. And now let me know if she shall ever be my wife, and how many children we shall have?

Vald. (aside to Dart.) Deuce take wife and children too! what is all this drivelling for?

Dart. (aside to him.) I thought you were in love as well as myself.

Vald. So I am, but be satisfied that she loves you, and pass on to things of deeper import.

Dart. (aside.) Can any thing be of deeper import? (Aloud.) I should like very well, gifted Father, to have two or three black-haired burly knaves, and a little fair damsel, to play with.

Vald. (aside to Dart.) Would they were all drowned in a horse-pond! Look how ruefully the sage shakes his head at thee: wife or children thou wilt never have.

Dart. Shall I never be married, Father? what shall prevent it?

Bar. Death.

Dart. Shall I lose her? (Turning to Vald.) Do you not tremble for Livia?

Vald. Is it her death? did he say so? Ask him.

Bar. Death will prevent it. Let me leave you.

Vald. (seizing the Baron's robe.) Whose death? whose death? is it only the lady's?

Bar. Nay, do not detain me. There, is a deep depression on my mind. Good night to