Cas. (musing.) Nothing, fair cousin, nothing—not ev'n deep sorrow—
Wears it away like evil hours and wine.
I will amend.
Aless. Do it. I would have thee drop
Thy riotous company too—fellows low born!
Ill suit the like with old Di Broglio's heir
And Alessandra's husband.
Cas. I will drop them.
Aless. Thou must. Attend thou also more
To thy dress and equipage—they are over plain
For thy lofty rank and fashion—much depends
Upon appearances.
Cas. I'll see to it.
Aless. Then see to it!—pay more attention, sir,
To a becoming carriage—much thou wantest
In dignity.
Cas. Much, much, oh much I want
In proper dignity.
Aless. (haughtily.) Thou mockest me, sir!
Cas. (abstractedly.) Sweet, gentle Lalage!
Aless. Heard I aright?
I speak to him—he speaks of Lalage!
Sir Count! (places her hand on his shoulder) what art thou dreaming? he's not well!
What ails thee, sir?