+Ern.+ Now, by my life, she is a lovely lady; My master will be ravish'd with her form. I hope this blind bargain, made by proxy, May prove as happy a marriage as those Made after th' old fashion, chiefly for love, And that this unseen beauty may have charms To bring him back to his right wits again From his wild ravings on an unknown dame, Whom, as he fancies (once upon a time) He recover'd from a trance, that's to say From a sound sleep, which makes him dream e'er since. I'll hasten to him with this pleasing news. [_Exit +Ernesto+._ +Cam.+ My melancholy could hardly hinder me From laughing at the formal fool's mistake. But, tell me, did not I present your person With rare assurance? The way for both to thrive Is to make me your representative. +Por.+ Most willingly; and I am confident, When you your charms shall to his heart apply, You all your rivals safely may defy. +Cam.+ I wish I could be vain enough to hope it. But, cousin, my despairs are so extreme, I can't be flatter'd, though but in a dream. +Flo.+ Madam, do we go, or what do you resolve on? +Por.+ I must resolve, but know not what to choose. +Cam.+ Cousin, take heed, I am afraid you venture Too much: your brother cannot tarry long, And if at his return he finds you missing---- +Por.+ Y' have reason; th' opportunity is lost. What is't o'clock, Flora? +Flo.+ I think, near seven, for the clock struck six Just as Camilla enter'd the chamber. +Por.+ Quick then, Flora, fetch your veil; you shall carry My tablets to Octavio; there he'll find The hour and place where I would have him meet. [_Exit +Flora+._ +Cam.+ 'Tis well resolv'd; but where do you design Your meeting. +Por.+ In the remotest part of all the garden, Which answers, as you know, to my apartment; And Flora has the key of the back-door. +Cam.+ As the case stands, you choose the fittest place. [_+Flora+ returns veiled._ +Por.+ Cousin, I beg your patience whilst I write. [_+Porcia+ writes in her tablets._ +Cam.+ You, Mistress Flora, by this accident May chance to see your faithful lover Diego. +Flo.+ He is a faithful lover of himself--[53] Without a rival, madam. +Cam.+ Damsel, your words and thoughts hardly agree; For could we see his image in your heart, 'Twould be a fairer far than e'er his glass Reflected. +Flo.+ Madam, I am not yet so very old, That I should doat. +Cam.+ Nor yet so very young but you may love: Dotage and love are cousin-germans, Flora. +Flo.+ Yes, when we love and are not lov'd again; [_Smiling._ For else I think they're not so near akin. +Cam.+ I have touch'd a nettle, and stung myself. [_Aside._ +Por.+ Make all the haste you can, pray, Flora.