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Enter, by the opposite side, Beatrice and her Woman.

BEATRICE.

He should be here, or somewhere near this spot.

I am afraid in these dark forest paths.
Each crooked leafless stump or dwarfish bush
Seem beast or man prepared to pounce upon us;
And then to make a vain and short amends,
Each slender, graceful sapling is my Maurice.
I dare not venture further.

WOMAN.

Perhaps we're wrong, and have mistaken the place;

Let us turn back, and try some other alley.

BEATRICE.

Turn not; I hear his foot. (Listening).

WOMAN.

My ear then must be dull, for I hear nothing.

BEATRICE.

Yes, they are dull; thou hast not in thy heart

That which doth quicken mine.—It is his footstep;
I know it well!

WOMAN.

Indeed, I should have guess'd——

BEATRICE.

Nay, hush, Theresa;