Cam. Alas! my dearest brother, gratitude,
[Drawing Don Carlos aside.
Conspiring with the graces of his person,
So soon possess'd him of my heart, that I,
Asham'd of such a visionary love,
Durst never trust my tongue with my own thoughts.
Don C. 'Tis enough. Here, sir, take from me her hand,
[Addressing to Don Antonio.
Whose heart your merit has long since made yours.
[Don Antonio takes Camilla's hand and kisses it.
Don A. Sir, with your leave and hers, I seal the vows
Of my eternal faith unto you both.
Don C. But let's take heed, Antonio, lest, whilst we
Are joying in our mutual happiness,
Don Henrique's scarcely yet composed distemper
Revive not, and disorder us afresh:
I like not his grim posture.
Don A. 'Tis well thought on; let's approach him.