Lop. They much honour me.
A DANCE.
After the dance, the Cavaliers take the Ladies, and court them. Wildblood takes Jacintha.
Wild. While you have been singing, lady, I have been praying: I mean, that your face and wit may not prove equal to your dancing; for, if they be, there's a heart gone astray, to my knowledge.
Jac. If you pray against me before you have seen me, you'll curse me when you have looked on me.
Wild. I believe I shall have cause to do so, if your beauty be as killing as I imagine it.
Jac. 'Tis true, I have been flattered in my own country, with an opinion of a little handsomeness; but how it will pass in Spain is a question.
Wild. Why, madam, are you not of Spain?
Jac. No, sir, of Morocco: I only came hither to see some of my relations, who are settled here, and turned Christians, since the expulsion of my countrymen, the Moors.
Wild. Are you then a Mahometan?