Leo. Shut the Window too; we shall have him get in there, by and bye.
Isab. What's this you are in such Apprehensions of, pray?
Leo. Nothing worth naming.
Isab. You dissemble: Something of Love in the Case, I'll warrant you.
Leo. The Reverse on't; 'tis Aversion. My Impertinent Star has furnish'd me with a Lover for my Guard, who is never from my Window; he persecutes me to Distraction; I affront him fifty Times a day; which he receives with a Bow down to the Ground: In short, all I can do, is doing nothing at all: He still persists in loving me, as much as I hate him.
Isab. Have a Care he don't get the better on't, for all that; for when a Man loves a Woman well enough to persevere, 'tis odds but she at last loves him well enough to make him give it over. But I think I had as good take off my Scarf; for, since my Brother Don Guzman knows I'm with you, he won't quarrel at my return, for the Length of my Visit.
Leo. If he shou'd, I shou'd quarrel with him, which few Things else wou'd make me do. But methinks, Isabella, you are a little melancholy.
Isab. And you a little thoughtful.
Leo. Pray, tell me your Affliction.
Isab. Pray don't conceal yours.