Rosabella.--Camilla, I have been thinking over your arguments; I

cannot deny that all you have said to me is very true, and very

wise, but still Camilla.--But still, though your prudence agrees with me, your heart

is of a contrary opinion.

Rosabella.--It is, indeed.

Camilla.--Nor do I blame your heart for differing from me, my poor

girl. I have acknowledged to you without disguise that were I at

your time of life, and were such a man as Flodoardo to throw himself

in my way, I could not receive his attentions with indifference. It

cannot be denied that this young stranger is uncommonly pleasing,

and, indeed, for any woman whose heart is disengaged, an uncommonly

DANGEROUS companion. There is something very prepossessing in his

appearance, his manners are elegant, and short as has been his abode

in Venice, it is already past doubting that there are many noble and

striking features in his character. But alas, after all, he is but

a poor nobleman, and it is not very probable that the rich and

powerful Doge of Venice will ever bestow his niece on one who, to

speak plainly, arrived here little better than a beggar. No, no,

child, believe me, a romantic adventurer is no fit husband for

Rosabella of Corfu.

Rosabella.--Dear Camilla, who was talking about husbands? What I

feel for Flodoardo is merely affection, friendship.

Camilla.--Indeed! Then you would be perfectly satisfied, should

some one of our wealthy ladies bestow her hand on Flodoardo?

Rosabella (hastily).--Oh! Flodoardo would not ACCEPT her hand,

Camilla; of that I am sure.

Camilla.--Child, child, you would willingly deceive yourself. But

be assured that a girl who loves ever connects, perhaps

unconsciously, the wish for an eternal UNION with the idea of

eternal AFFECTION. Now this is a wish which you cannot indulge in

regard to Flodoardo without seriously offending your uncle, who,

good man as he is, must still submit to the severe control of

politics and etiquette.

Rosabella.--I know all that, Camilla, but can I not make you

comprehend that I am not in love with Flodoardo, and do not mean to

be in love with him, and that love has nothing at all to do in the

business? I repeat to you, what I feel for him is nothing but

sincere and fervent friendship; and surely Flodoardo deserves that I

should feel that sentiment for him. Deserves it, said I? Oh, what

does Flodoardo NOT deserve?

Camilla.--Ay, ay, friendship, indeed, and love. Oh, Rosabella, you

know not how often these deceivers borrow each other's mask to

ensnare the hearts of unsuspecting maidens. You know not how often

love finds admission, when wrapped in friendship's cloak, into that

bosom, which, had he approached under his own appearance, would have

been closed against him for ever. In short, my child, reflect how

much you owe to your uncle; reflect how much uneasiness this

inclination would cost him; and sacrifice to duty what at present is

a mere caprice, but which, if encouraged, might make too deep an

impression on your heart to be afterwards removed by your best

efforts.




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