_Hip_. Nay, here's Honoria too:--You
look on me with wonder in your eyes,
To see me here, and in this strange disguise.
_Jul_. What new miracle is this? Honoria!
_Man_. I left you with my aunt at Barcelona,
And thought, ere this, you had been married to
The rich old man, Don Estevan de Gama.
_Hip_. I ever had a strange aversion for him:
But when Gonsalvo landed there, and made
A kind of courtship, (though, it seems, in jest,)
It served to conquer me; which Estevan
Perceiving, pressed my aunt to haste the marriage.
What should I do? My aunt importuned me
For the next day: Gonsalvo, though I loved him,
Knew not my love; nor was I sure his courtship
Was not the effect of a bare gallantry.
_Gons_. Alas! how grieved I am, that slight address
Should make so deep impression on your mind,
In three days time!
_Hip_. That accident, in which
You saved my life, when first you saw me, caused it,
Though now the story be too long to tell.
Howe'er it was, hearing that night, you lay
Aboard your ship, thus, as you see, disguised,
In clothes belonging to my youngest nephew,
I rose ere day, resolved to find you out,
And, if I could, procure to wait on you
Without discovery of myself: but fortune
Crossed all my hopes.
_Gons_. It was that dismal night
Which tore my anchor up, and tossed my ship,
Past hope of safety, many days together,
Until at length it threw me on this port.
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