Fred. Ye may, Sir:
Not to abuse your patience, noble friends,
Nor hold ye off with tedious circumstance,
For you must know—
Petr. What?
Duke. Where is she?
Fred. Gone, Sir.
Duke. How?
Petr. What did you say, Sir?
Fred. Gone, by Heaven removed,
The woman of the house too.
John. Well Don Frederick.
Fred. Don John, it is not well, but—
Pet. Gone?