Jul. Ungrateful Rodorick! Canst thou name marriage, while thou entertain'st A hatred so unjust against my brother?
Rod. But, unkind Julia, you know the causes Of love and hate are hid deep in our stars, And none but heaven can give account of both.
Jul. Too well I know it: for my love to thee
Is born by inclination, not by judgment;
And makes my virtue shrink within my heart,
As loth to leave it, and as loth to mingle.
Rod. What would you have me do?
Jul. Since I must tell thee,
Lead me to some near monastery; there
(Till heaven find out some way to make us happy)
I shall be kept in safety from my brother.
Rod. But more from me; what hopes can Rodorick
have,
That she, who leaves him freely, and unforced,
Should ever of her own accord return?
Jul. Thou hast too great assurance of my faith,
That, in despite of my own self, I love thee.
Be friends with Manuel, I am thine; 'till when
My honour's. Lead me.
[Exeunt.
SCENE III.—The representation of a Street discovered by twilight.
Enter Don MANUEL, solus.