"Why, I suppose that you desire to marry her; do you think that she will consent? are you sure of it?" "But I will tell you that I wouldn't marry anyone, on any consideration." "If that is because your suit would be ill received, your rôle is a very pitiful one, my dear Lelio!" "_Corpo di Bacco_! you bore me, Checchina!" "That is my purpose, dear friend of my heart. Now, then, you do not think of marrying, because that would be impertinent presumption on your part, and you are a man of spirit. You do not think of seduction, because that would be a crime, and you are a man of heart. Tell me, is your romance likely to be very amusing?" "Why, you dense, matter-of-fact creature, you know nothing whatever about sentiment. If I choose to indulge in a pastoral idyll, who will prevent me?" "That is very pretty in music; in love it must be decidedly dull." "But it is neither criminal nor humiliating." "Then why are you so excited? Why are you so sad, Lelio?" "You are dreaming, Checchina; I am as placid and light-hearted as usual. Let us have no more of these empty words; I do not ask you to be silent about the little I have told you, for I have confidence in you. To reassure you concerning my frame of mind, let me tell you this one thing: I am more proud of my profession of actor than ever nobleman was of his marquisate. Nobody on earth has the power to make me blush. Whatever you may say, I shall never be conceited enough to aspire to extraordinary devotion, and if a spark of love warms my heart at this moment, the modest joy of inspiring a little love is sufficient for me. I do not deny the numerous superiorities of actresses over society women. There is more beauty, grace, wit and fire in the wings than elsewhere, I know. There is no more modesty, unselfishness, chastity and loyalty among great ladies than elsewhere; that, too, I know. But youth and beauty are idols which make us bend the knee everywhere; and as for the prejudices of rank, it is a good deal for a woman brought up under tyrannical laws to bestow in secret one poor glance, one poor heart-throb upon a man whom her prejudices forbid her to look upon as a being of her own species. That poor glance, that poor palpitation, would be a mere trifle to the unbounded desire born of a great passion; but as I have told you, cousin, I have not got to that point." "But how do you know that you won't come to it?" "When I do, it will be time enough to preach to me." "It will be too late; you will suffer!" "Ah! Cassandra, I prithee let me love on!"