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 my Lady Matilda; she will marvel what is become of me—stay; cried Manfred, thou hast not satisfied my question. Hast thou ever carried any message, any letter—I! good gracious! cried Bianca; I carry a letter? I would not to be a Queen. I hope your Highness thinks, though I am poor, I am honest—did your Highness never hear what Count Marsigli offered me, when he came a wooing to my Lady Matilda? I have not leisure, said Manfred, to listen to thy tales, I do not question thy honesty: But it is thy duty to conceal nothing from me. How long has Isabella been acquainted with Theodore? Nay, there is nothing can escape your Highness! said Bianca—not that I know any thing of the matter—Theodore, to be sure, is a proper young man, and, as my Lady Matilda says, the very image of good Alfonso: Has not your Highness remarked it? yes, yes,—no—thou torturest me: Said Manfred: Where did they meet? when?—who! My Lady Matilda? said Bianca. No,