SCENE III.—_A Room in the Palace.

_The PRINCE and DON FELIX, discovered at the back of the stage._

_Fel._ Why is your Highness sad?

_Prince._ Not sad, Don Felix: Oh would it were some certain shape of sorrow That I might grapple with, not a vague host Of undefined emotions! Oh how oft The patching up of but a single seam Opens a hundred others! Lucky he, Who can to disenchantment bare his eyes Once and for all, and in oblivion Shut up vain hope for ever!

_Enter CESAR, ARIAS, and LAZARO, in front._

_Ces._ (_to ARIAS as they enter_). And so at last was satisfied.

_Ar._ His Highness and Don Felix.

_Ces._ I am sure that he who profits not by opportunity scarce covets it enough. Taking advantage of the cleared heaven, I have here written my lady, asking her when she will give me the meeting she promised; Lazaro, take the letter: Don Felix here, you can easily deliver it.

_Laz._ I’ll feign an errand, and so get into the house.

[_Exit._

_Fel._ (_to PRINCE_). Cesar and Arias, my lord.

_Prince._ I know their business. Oh what a tempest does every breeze from that quarter raise in my bosom! Well, gentlemen?

_Ar._ Cesar, my lord, was telling me—

_Prince._ About his melancholy studies still? Pray tell me.

_Ces._ Nay, my lord, all melancholy flies from the sunshine of your presence.

_Prince._ What then?

_Ces._ I still distrust myself; Don Arias must, my lord, answer for me.

_Prince._ Don Arias, then?

_Ar._ (_aside_). Fresh confidence should bind me his anew. But comes too late.

_Ces._ (_aside to ARIAS_). Be careful what you say.

_Ar._ Trust me. (_CESAR retires._)

_Prince_ (_to ARIAS apart_). Well now, Don Arias.

_Ar._ At first much enraged against him, at last she yielded to his amorous excuses; and, finding Don Felix here, he has sent her a letter beseeching another meeting.

_Prince._ When?

_Ar._ This moment.

_Prince._ Who can doubt the upshot! I must contrive to thwart them. (_Aloud._) But ere I hear your story, Arias, I must tell Don Felix what I was about to do as these gentlemen came in and interrupted me: that his sister was ill—had fainted—from some vexation or fright, as I think.

_Fel._ Anna?

_Prince._ So my sister told me. Had you not better see to her?

_Fel._ With your leave, my lord.

[_Exit._

_Prince_ (_aside_). And so, as I wished, prevent her answering, if not getting, the letter. (_Aloud._) I will ask Nisida how it was.

[_Exit._

_Ces._ What did you tell the Prince to draw this new trouble on me?

_Ar._ Ay, even so. Blame him who has been even lying in your service. Look you now, the Prince told me he had overheard the names ‘Don Felix’ and ‘Donna Anna’ between us as we came in talking; and, tethered to that, I was obliged to drag this fainting fit into the service.

_Ces._ Oh, if Felix find Lazaro at his house!

_Ar._ Fear not, anxiety will carry him home faster than a letter Lazaro.

_Ces._ Alas! that the revival of my joy Is the revival of a fresh annoy; And that the remedy I long’d to seize Must slay me faster than the old disease.

[_Exeunt._