BEA. What say you then to this?--Will you take this pawn,
Or will you not?

LOR. [Studying the board.] Od's bones!--where did that come from?

[Enter Octavia.]

OCT. La, would you lose your eyesight, both of you?--
Fumbling about those chessmen in the dark?
You, Beatrice, at least, should have more wit!

LOR. "At least"--hm!--Did you hear her say, "at least,"
Bice, my daughter?

BEA. Ay. But it is true
The twilight comes before one knows it.

LOR. Ay.
'Tis true, but unimportant. Nevertheless,
I am a tractable old fellow.--Look you,
I will but stay to map the lay of the pieces
Upon this bit of letter. 'Tis from a king
Who could not tell the bishop from the board,--
And yet went blind at forty.--A little chess
By twilight, mark you, and all might have been well.

[Enter Bianca.]

BIA. Oh,--I've been looking everywhere for you?