Leave me alone then for a while, Belardo;
The breeze that creeps along the whispering trees
Makes me feel drowsy.
Juan (to Belardo, whispering). She turns her head away,
I cannot see her still.
Ser. What noise was that?
Bel. Madam?
Ser. I thought I heard a whisper.
Bel. Only
The breeze, I think. If you would turn this way,