Car. Barbarous Leonora! but 'tis useless to reproach you; she that is capable of what you have done, is form'd too cruel ever to repent of it. Go on then, tyrant; make your bliss compleat; torment me still, for still, alas! I love enough to be tormented.
Leo. Ah Carlos! little do you know the tender movements of that thing you name: the heart where love presides, admits no thoughts against the honour of its ruler.
Car. 'Tis not to call that honour into doubt, if conscious of our own unworthiness, we interpret every frown to our destruction.
Leo. When jealousy proceeds from such humble apprehensions, it shews itself with more respect than yours has done.
Car. And where a heart is guiltless, it easily forgives a greater crime.
Leo. Forgiveness is not now in our debate; if both have been in fault, 'tis fit that both should suffer for it; our separation will do justice on us.
Car. But since we are ourselves the judges of our crimes, what if we should inflict a gentler punishment?
Leo. 'Twould but encourage us to sin again.
Car. And if it shou'd?