Say you are false!
Tell me you lie, and I will make you rich,
I'll stuff your cap with ducats twice a year.
PAGE. Well, then--I lie.
LARA. Ay, now you lie, indeed!
I see it in the cunning of your eyes;
Night cannot hide the Satan leering there.
Only a little lingering fear of heaven
Holds me from dirking you between the ribs!
PAGE. What would you have? I will say nothing, then.
LARA. Say everything, and end it! Here is gold.
You brought a billet to the Countess--well?
What said the billet?
PAGE. Take away your hand.
And, by St. Mary, I will tell you all.
There, now, I breathe. You will not harm me, sir?
Stand six yards off, or I will not a word.
It seems the Countess promised Signor Juan
A set of turquoise--
LARA. Turquoise? Ha! that's well.
PAGE. Just so--wherewith my master was to pay
Some gaming debts; but yester-night the cards
Tumbled a golden mountain at his feet;
And ere he sailed, this morning, Signor Juan
Gave me a perfumed, amber-tinted note,
For Countess Lara, which, with some adieus,
Craved her remembrance morning, noon, and night;
Her prayers while gone, her smiles when he returned;
Then told his sudden fortune with the cards,
And bade her keep the jewels.
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