Soft, he comes!
I'll make him speak, or kill him; then, indeed,
It were unreasonable to ask it. Soh!
I'll speak him gently at the first, and then--
_The_ PAGE _enters by a gate in the villa-garden, and walks past the_
COUNT.
Ho! pretty page, who owns you?
PAGE. No one now.
Once Signor Juan, but I am his no more.
LARA. What, then, you stole from him?
PAGE. O! no, sir, no.
He had so many intrigues on his hands,
There was no sleep for me nor night nor day.
Such carrying of love-favors and pink notes!
He's gone abroad now, to break other hearts
And so I left him.
LARA. A frank knave.
PAGE. To-night
I've done his latest bidding--
LARA. As you should--
PAGE. A duty wed with pleasure--'twas to take
A message to a countess all forlorn,
In yonder villa.
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