_Jul_. O, would
The loss of that dispense with duty in me,
How gladly would I suffer it! and yet,
If I durst question it, methinks 'tis hard!
What right have parents over children, more
Than birds have o'er their young? yet they impose
No rich-plumed mistress on their feathered sons;
But leave their love, more open yet and free
Than all the fields of air, their spacious birthright.
[_GONSALVO seems to beg MANUEL
not to be harsh_.
_Man_. Nay, good Gonsalvo, trouble not yourself,
There is no other way; when 'tis once done,
She'll thank me for't.
_Jul_. I ne'er expected other usage from you;
A kind brother you have been to me,
And to my sister: You have sent, they say,
To Barcelona, that my aunt should force her
To marry the old Don you brought her.
_Hip_. Who could, that once had seen Gonsalvo's.
face?
Alas, she little thinks I am so near! [_Aside_.
_Man_. Mind not what she says.
A word with you--[_To GONSALVO._
_Amid_. Don Manuel eyes me strangely; the best is,
he never saw me yet but at a distance:
My brother's jealousy (who ne'er intended
I should be his) restrained our nearer converse. [_Aside_.
_Jul_. My pretty youth, I am enforced to trust thee
[_To AMIDEO_.
With my most near concerns; friends I have none,
If thou deny'st to help me.
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