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THE SPAGNOLETTO.
RIBERA.
Poor child, thou must be weary. Thou art pale
Still from thy swoon.
MARIA (with a forced laugh).
I had forgotten it.
Nay, I am well again.
RIBERA.
But I forget it not,
Neither forgive myself. Well, it is past,
Enough 3 When the Prince left I sent for thee ;
Thou wast still sleeping ?
MARIA (with confusion}.
Yes, I was outworn.
What didst thou wish of me ?
RIBERA.
Merely to tell thee
Don John leaves Naples. He expressed regret
Most courteously that thou wast suffering.
He had fain offered us his parting thanks
For our kind welcome so he deigned to say.
To-morrow he may steal a moment’s grace
To see us both once more ; but this is doubtful,
So he entrusted his farewells to me.
MARIA.
May peace go with him !
