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Then! 't is not Beatrice he comes to visit?

It does not so appear; it may,—it may not.

Why dost thou hesitate and stammer thus? Art thou afraid to speak? What is the matter?

Nothing, my Lord, but you did fix your eyes With such a keen intenseness on my face, I fear'd I might offend.

How fear'd, unless the thing thou hast to say Should be of bad import?

As I breathe life, Nothing of good or bad import have I To tell your honour.

Well, well! be it so. Thy strange bewilder'd face made me suspect thee. Why dost thou wait?

Your further pleasure, Sir.