Don _Ped._ Not at all, when it follows the Dictates of the Heart.---- _Leo._ Were it even so, what Wrong is from that Heart receiv'd, where Duty and where Virtue are its Rulers? Don _Ped._ Where they preside, our Honour may be safe, yet our Minds be on the Rack. _Leo._ This Discourse will scarce produce a Remedy; we'll end it, therefore, if you please, and leave the rest to Time: Besides, the Occasion of your Journey presses you. Don _Ped._ The Occasion of my Delay presses you, I fear, much more; you count the tedious Minutes I am with you, and are reduc'd to mind me of my Duty, to free yourself from my Sight. _Leo._ You urge this thing too far, and do me wrong. The Sentiments I have for you are much more favourable than your Jealousy suffers 'em to appear. But if my Heart has seem'd to lean another way, before you had a Title to it, you ought not to conclude I shall suffer it to do so long. Don _Ped._ I know you have Virtue, Gratitude and Truth; and therefore 'tis I love you to my Ruin. Cou'd I believe you false, Contempt would soon release me from my Chains, which yet I can't but wish to wear for ever: therefore indulge at least your Pity to your Slave; 'tis the soft Path in which we tread to Love. I leave behind a tortur'd Heart to move you: _Weigh well its Pains, think on its Passion too, } Remember all its Torments spring from you; } And if you cannot love, at least be true._ } [_Exit Don ~Pedro~._ _Jacin._ Now by my troth, Madam, I'm ready to cry. He's a pretty Fellow, and deserves better Luck. _Leo._ I own he does: And his Behaviour wou'd engage any thing that were unengag'd. But, alas! I want his Pity more than he does mine. _Jacin._ You do! Now I'm of another Mind. The Moment he sees your Picture, he's in love with you; the Moment he's in love with you, he imbarks; and, like Lightning, in a Moment more, he's here: Where you are pleas'd to receive him with a Don _Guzman, I am yours_. Ah----poor Man! _Leo._ I own, _Jacinta_, he's unfortunate, but still I say my Fate is harder yet. The irresistible Passion I have for _Guzman_, renders Don _Pedro_, with all his Merit, odious to me; yet I must in his favour, make eternal War against the Strength of Inclination and the Man I love. _Jac._ [_Aside._] Um----If I were in her Case, I cou'd find an Expedient for all this Matter. But she makes such a Bustle with her Virtue, I dare not propose it to her. _Leo._ Besides, Don _Pedro_ possesses what he loves, but I must never think on poor Don _Guzman_ more. [_Weeping._ _Jac._ Poor Don _Guzman_, indeed! We han't said a Word of the Pickle he's in yet. Hark! somebody knocks----at the old Rendezvous. It's he, on my Conscience. _Leo._ Let's be gone; I must think of him no more. _Jac._ Yes, let's be gone; but let's know whether 'tis he or not, first.