_Man._ The girl’s in love. Now, bravo Rosso! I wish thee well. There’s not a purer spirit Fleshed in all Sicily; nay, nor a man I’d sooner call brother. Why, ’twas my choice, Long urged in vain. That chanceth in an hour Which comes not in nine years. ’Tis very true, 880 Fancy resents all judgment, and another’s Will often kill it quite. Now, when I looked Rather for anything than my own wish,—heigh-ho! ’Tis I that stand in the way. I must discourage it. _Enter Philip_ (_with some papers_). Ah, Philip. _PHILIP._ Let me give you back the papers. I have read them. _Man._ Well? _Ph._ The viceroy’s guilt is plain. Your purpose cannot be to press this count. _Man._ If the complaints, which I have already made, Be quashed at court, I shall. _Ph._ ’Tis peculation So gross, ’twould ruin Hugo to expose it. 890 Wished you to break with him,—yet his disgrace Cannot be nothing to you: I should marvel You had no associations, no affections, Shocked at the thought. _Man._ To interests manifold As manifest, Justice is blind. If Spain Remove not Hugo on the charges laid, I have shewn thee what’s to follow. Would you avert it, Press his dismissal. I must to the palace. Guard thou the papers for me till I am back. [_Exit._ _Ph._ These papers are conviction. Blasco is right: He loves not. That is clear; for he would ruin 901 Her father. Then again my rivalry Avowed,—ay, if he had an ear, avowed,— He doth not see. So cold, how could he win her? Or wish to win her? She is mine.—And yet I would ’Twere any man but Manuel. Ah! who comes? ’Tis she. Now may I prove her. _Enter Constance with Servant._ _CONSTANCE_ (_to servt._). If she be not within, prithee enquire Where she is gone. I will await thee here. 909 [_Exit servt._ I have been most foolish. (_Seeing Philip._) Philip! _Ph._ Yes, ’tis I. Constance. _Con._ What wouldst thou? _Ph._ (_kneeling_). I entreat a favour, Which is to me the one boon in the world. _Con._ Rise, sir, what is’t? _Ph._ That I may speak, nor leave Love’s wound unhealed. _Con._ ’Twere well to seal forgiveness, Companion of forgetfulness. Say, therefore. The few words that are due. _Ph._ Tho’ I repent, Repentance cannot own forgetfulness. It pleads forgiveness in the name of love. _Con._ How in that name? _Ph._ Constance, I love thee still. _Con._ Sir!