Jul. Oh Heavens! what mean you? I shall die with fear.
Car. Fear! let coward Lovers fear, who love by halves, We that intirely love are bold in Passion, Like Soldiers fir’d with glory dread no Danger.
Jul. But should we be unthrifty in our Loves, And for one Moment’s joy give all away, And be hereafter damn’d to pine at distance?
Car. Mistaken Miser, Love like Money put
Into good hands increases every day,
Still as you trust me, still the Sum amounts:
Put me not off with promise of to morrow,
To morrow will take care for new delights,
Why shou’d that rob us of a present one?
Jul. Ah, Carlos! How fondly do I listen to thy words,
And fain would chide, and fain wou’d boast my Virtue,
But mightier Love laughs at those poor delays;
And I should doubtless give you all your Julia,
Did not my fear prevent my kinder business;
—And should Francisco come and find me absent,
Or take thee with me, we were lost, my Carlos.
Car. When then, my Julia, shall we meet again?
Jul. You Spaniards are a jealous Nation, But in this English Spaniard Old Francisco, That mad Passion’s doubled; wholly deprives him of his Sense, and turns his Nature Brute; wou’d he but trust me only with my Woman, I wou’d contrive some way to see my Carlos.
Car. ‘Tis certain, Julia, that thou must be mine.
Jul. Or I must die, my Carlos.
[Ant. listning advances.