_Alb._ What you have said, I do confess is true, _Antonio_ beg’d I would make love to you; But, Madam, whilst my heart was unconfin’d, A thousand ways the Treachery I declin’d-- But now, _Clarina_, by my Life I swear, It is my own concern that brings me here: Had he been just to you, I had suppress’d The Flames your Eyes have kindled in my Breast; But his Suspicion rais’d my Passion more, And his Injustice taught me to adore: But ‘tis a Passion which you may allow, Since its effects shall never injure you. _Ism._ You have oblig’d me, Sir, by your Confession, And I shall own it too at such a rate, As both becomes my Duty to _Antonio_, And my Respect to you; but I must beg You’ll never name your Passion to me more, That guilty Language, Sir, I must not hear: --And yet your silence kills me. [Aside. _Isab._ Very well dissembled. [Aside. _Alb._ I can obey you, Madam, though I cannot live, Whilst you command me silence; For ‘tis a Flame that dares not look abroad To seek for pity from another’s Eyes. _Ism._ How he moves me! if this were real now, Or that he knew to whom he made this Courtship-- [Aside. _Alb._ Oh, do not turn away as if displeas’d. _Ism._ No more, you’ve discompos’d my thoughts; Be gone, and never let me see thy Face again. _Alb._ Madam, I go, and will no more offend you, --But I will look my last--farewel. [Offers to go. _Isab._ Pray, Madam, call him back, he may be desperate. --My Lord, return-- _Ism._ _Alberto_, tell me what you’d have me do. _Alb._ Ah, Madam, do not put me to my choice, For Lovers are unreasonable; If I might name it, I would have you love me. _Ism._ Love you, and what would be the end of that? _Alb._ I cannot tell, but wish you were inclin’d To make a tryal, Madam; I have no thought or wish beyond that Blessing, And that once gain’d, sure I should ask no more. _Ism._ Were I inclin’d to this, have you consider’d The fatal Consequences which attend The breach of Vows and Friendship? _Alb._ Madam, _Antonio_ first was false to you, And not to punish that were such a Virtue As he would never thank you for; By all that’s good, till he prov’d so to you, He had my Soul in keeping; But this act makes me resolve To recompense his Folly. _Ism._ You’ve found the easiest Passage to my Heart, You’ve took it on the weakest side; --But I must beg you will pretend no further. _Alb._ Divine _Clarina_, let me pay my thanks In this submissive Posture, and never rise, [Kneels. Till I can gain so much upon your Credit, As to believe my Passion tends no farther Than to adore you thus--and thus possess you. [Kisses her hand, and bows. _Ism._ Have not I dissembled finely, _Isabella_? [Aside. _Isab._ Yes, if you could make me believe ‘tis so. [Aside.