Hip. What's worse: to give your sister to him.
Won by her tears, he means to leave her free,
And to redeem her misery with his:
At least so I conjecture.
Man. 'Tis a doubtful Problem; either he loves her violently, Or not at all.
Amid. You have betrayed my master:—
[To HIPPOLITO. Aside.
Hip. If I have injured you, I mean to give you The satisfaction of a gentlewoman.
Enter GONSALVO and JULIA.
Man. Oh, they are here; now I shall be resolved.
Jul. My brother Manuel! what fortune's this!
Man. I'm glad I have prevented you.
Gons. With what
Variety my fate torments me still!
Never was man so dragged along by virtue;
But I must follow her.