Sintula.
Yes, noble master!
Julian.
Come nearer—Yes, by my faith, you look honest. Pardon me; I never thought you could be so attached to me.
Sintula.
How know you that I am attached to you, my lord?
Julian.
[Pointing to the roll of paper.] I can read it here, in this; it is written that you are to desert me.
Sintula.
I, my lord?