Page:Castelvines y Monteses Translated.pdf/61

40 That I might play the craven coward here; I will go with thee.

Otavio. Father, thou shalt not.

Teobaldo. I will go in.

Fesenio. That he so madly urge his fiery son Methinks doth lack a parent's prudence.

Rosele. This way she pass'd, and by her side Otavio walk'd.

Anselmo. So, so, methought it was summer dream To be forgotten on the morrow, For thou in all thy letters nothing wrote Of Julia Castelvine.

Roselo. Who cares to trust on paper thoughts That burn; or weary patient friends With words they would not care to read.

Fesenio (aside). And so these are of Montes' house; Sad fate should anger bear her bitter fruit! I will within, and young Otavio seek.

Anselmo. And has Roselo secrets in his love?

Roselo. In good time thou comest to hear my tale; 'Tis needful I advise you of my love; And truly I have much to tell which hath fallen out Since thou didst journey to Ferrara.

Anselmo. All apprehension now I am, And tremble while I listen.

Roselo. That night when thou didst bear Me company, and I in gladness held Sweet converse with my love,