Don. Clara. Well, you may think me cruel, but I swear, if he were here this instant, I believe I should forgive him.
SONG.
By him we love offended,
How soon our anger flies!
One day apart, 'tis ended;
Behold him, and it dies.
Last night, your roving brother,
Enraged, I bade depart;
And sure his rude presumption
Deserved to lose my heart.
Yet, were he now before met
In spite of injured pride,
I fear my eyes would pardon
Before my tongue could chide.
Don. Louisa. I protest, Clara, I shall begin to think you are seriously resolved to enter on your probation.
Don. Clara. And, seriously, I very much doubt whether the character of a nun would not become me best.
Don. Louisa. Why, to be sure, the character of a nun is a very becoming one at a masquerade: but no pretty woman, in her senses, ever thought of taking the veil for above a night.
Don. Clara. Yonder I see your Antonio is returned—I shall only interrupt you; ah, Louisa, with what happy eagerness you turn to look for him! [Exit.]
Enter DON ANTONIO.