Scorn by demand, to force the praise they merit;
They feel a flame beyond their brightest deeds,
And leave the weak to note them, and to wonder.
Jaq. Suppress these strong emotions. The count's eye
Is quick to find offence. Should he suspect
This unpermitted passion, 'twould draw down
More speedy vengeance on the helpless youth,
Turning your fatal fondness to his ruin.
Adel. Indeed, I want thy counsel. Yet, oh, leave me!
Find, if my gold, my gems, can ransom him.