Cha. Hernda!
Her. The Lord Megario
Has asked to compliment a brother guest.
May he be seen? Does his unmannered storm
Spare one amenity?
Cha. Megario knows?
Her. Knows what?
Cha. Oh!—nothing.
Her. So much more than naught
Your cheek is pale with it.
Cha. No matter, Hernda.
Her. An ashen matter truly, yet not light
As nothing. But your answer. May our guests
Exchange the roof-tree greeting?
Cha. No.
Her. Why not?
That "no" trails consequence. It can not be
Your period.