Flora. O no—Don't laugh—if you do you will spoil all, and my Lady will never forgive you.
Jerome. Well—I won't—I won't, if I can help it—I'll look so—just so, if I can—as serious as a judge—will that do? ( looking serious. )
Flora. Yes; that will do. ( Rapping again. )
Jerome. ( Going. ) Ha, ha, ha, ha—I can't help laughing a little though—but not before her—I'll be as serious as a judge before her. ( aside ) Egad I am afraid—I am afraid I shall laugh.
( Exit, stifling a laugh. )
Flora. Now where shall I run to have a peep at her?—in here.[ Exit Flora.
Enter JEROME, bowing before the MARQUIS, with his face on one side, as if he was afraid to look at him for fear he should laugh.
Marquis. Let Don Antonio know I have letters for him.
Jerome. Yes, your Honour—Lordship. ( Lifting up his eyes, looking at him with side glances, and with difficulty stifling a laugh. ) Your Honour, your Lordship—Let Don Antonio—know—you—have—letters—for—him. ( Suppressing a laugh. )
Marquis. Yes; is not that plain?