Julio. Her maid!
Min. Why, yes, sir; to say truth, I am but Donna Olivia's maid, after all.
Oliv. [Apart.] Dear Minette! speak for me, or I am now ruined.
Min. I will, ma'am.—I must confess, sir, [Going up to Julio.] there never was so bitter a tempered creature as my lady is. I have borne her humours for two years; I have seen her by night and by day. [Olivia pulls her sleeve, impatiently.] I will, I will! [To Olivia.] and this I am sure, that if you marry her, you'll rue the day every hour the first month, and hang yourself the next. There, madam, I have done it roundly now.
[Exit, r.
Oliv. I am undone—I am caught in my own snare! [Aside.]
Cæsar. After this true character of my daughter, I suppose, signor, we shall hear no more of your passion; so let us go down, and leave madam to begin her penance.
Julio. My ideas are totally confused.—You Donna Olivia de Zuniga, and the person I thought you, her maid! something too flattering darts across my mind.
Cæsar. If you have taken a fancy to her maid, I have nothing farther to say; but as to that violent creature——
Julio. Oh, do not profane her. Where is that spirit which you tell me of? Is it that which speaks in modest, conscious blushes on her cheeks? Is it that which bends her lovely eyes to earth?