Hassan. A moment since, was here—the women with her.
She asked for your return.
Renier. And wherefore did?
Hassan. You jeer me.
Renier. Answer.
Hassan. Have you not been gone?
Renier. Not—overfar. Where is Yolanda?—Well?
No matter; find my chamber till I come.
Of my arrival, too, no word to any.
(Hassan goes, confused.)
You, Moro, have deferred me; now, no more.
Whether it is suspicion eats in me,
Mistrust and fret and doubt—of whom I say not,
Or whether desire and unsubduable
To see Amaury sceptred—I care not.
(To Smarda.)
Slave, to your lady who awaits me, say
I'm here and now have chosen.