CESARE.
Don Pedro,
My chaplain will confess me presently;
The soul must reach that vein.
DON PEDRO.
Forgive! No further moment!
Adieu. [Exit.
CESARE.
[With a snarling yawn, like a caged animal’s.
Begone!—He wearied me a year.
When will his servant, black Magona, bring us
The coil of rope?
JUANITO.
At sunset, Excellence.