Guard thou the papers for me till I am back. [Exit.
Ph. These papers are conviction. Blasco is right:
He loves not. That is clear; for he would ruin
Her father. Then again my rivalry
Avowed,—ay, if he had an ear, avowed,—
He doth not see. So cold, how could he win her?
Or wish to win her? She is mine.—And yet I would
’Twere any man but Manuel. Ah! who comes?
’Tis she. Now may I prove her.
Enter Constance with Servant.