—step within, and seat yourself.
I will attend you in a moment.
(Hold open imaginary door; then resume soliloquy in fierce undertone.)
... Trapped!
He knows me not.
(With dark suspicion, which is easily conveyed by half closing eyes and pressing knuckle of bent forefinger against lower lip.)
Unless I be deceived,
No hazard freak of hooded Fortune's urn,
[A nasty line for the "h"-less.)
But Bandolina's dainty insolence
Decreed this visit ... Ha! my victim calls!
I come anon. Sir
(fawningly, with a side-glance of withering hate at your chair)
.
Patience, peevish worm!
Are you in such a hurry, then, to writhe?