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Gone forth to meet her lover, she hath err'd Beyond what we believed. (Calling loud.) Ho! Jerome there!

Thou wert the secret agent of Don Maurice; In this thou'st sinn'd against thy master! Say, And I'll forgive thee all, if thou speak truly, Did Donna Beatrice e'er, by night, steal forth To meet him in the forest?

No, good my Lord; that I will answer truly; She never did.

Good Pietro tells a story Of frighten'd villagers, who have, at night. Seen wand'ring in the wood a female form. Thou seem'st confused; thou, too, hast heard of this?

Not heard of it, my Lord.

Then thou hast seen it.

I must confess I saw a form, last night, Glide hastily before me, through the wood: The face I could not see.

It was a woman?