(Enter Carlotta)
Car. It must be signed ... it must ... (Sees Ignacio)
Ig. O, little finger casements, do you mourn
Your pretty tenants lost?—five rose-sweet nuns
That pray at one white shrine! (Kisses glove)
Car. (Advancing) I hope, my friend,
She ’s worthy of your noble love.
Ig. O, madam,
In her doth Heaven on earth make sweet beginning.
And aspirations tend her from the skies.
Car. And she is beautiful as good?
Ig. O, fair
As olden marble walking down to us.
Or that immortal Helen on whose lip
Poets still feed the dream that’s never fed!
Car. She must be fair indeed. I hope she loves
As much as she ’s beloved.
Ig. Nay, she dreams not
Of my poor worship.
Car. You must tell her, sir.