Peace, bad suggestions, from mean baseness sprung!
No! till I hear from her own falt'ring tongue
The glossing poor pretences of the guilty,
And see upon her once ingenuous face
The varied hues of shame, I'll not believe it.
I am a fool to take it so intently.
This casket here, which was my earliest gift;
And does it still contain that golden heart,
The token of my love? I fain would know.
(Looking at it near, and taking it in his hands.)
It is not lock'd; the lid is slightly latch'd:
In mine own house, methinks, without reproach,
I may undo the bauble. (Opens it.) What is here?
Don Juen's picture, and a letter, too;
I know the writing well.
(Reads). "Dear mistress of my soul! How shall I thank thee for that favour which has raised me from despair! Though thy heart has not always been mine, and I have sighed long to subdue it, yet I cherish my present felicity as if thou hadst loved me always, and no other had ever touched thy heart. I will come to the feast as a masquer, and for the reason suggested to me, unknown to Henriquez. The bearer of this will return with the key of the private door to the grove, and I shall come through the narrow path about nightfall. (After a pause).
Things have been done, that, to the honest mind,
