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JEROME.

It was mine own, my Lord.

ROMIERO.

'Tis well; come nearer, man. How many oaks

Have by my brawny foresters been fell'd,
Since I left home?

JEROME.

I do not know, my Lord.

Shall I inquire?

ROMIERO.

Of what would'st thou inquire?

JEROME.

The oaks which you have just been speaking of.

Do you not wish to know——

ROMIERO.

True; but I have another thing to say.

How many times hath this young Don been here
To visit Donna Beatrice?

JEROME.

To visit her?

ROMIERO.

Yes, fool! to visit her.

Why dost thou look so strangely at the question?
Answer it in few words and faithfully.

JEROME.

He hath, for some days past, come to the gate

At noon-tide hour or so, but whom to visit
It suits not me to say.