GARC. Alas, Madam, it is true, that, notwithstanding my utmost effort,
some trifling jealousy lingers in my heart; that a rival, though distant
from your divine charms, disturbs my equanimity. Whether it be whimsical
or reasonable, I always imagine that you are uneasy when he is absent,
and that in spite of my attentions, your sighs are continually sent in
search of that too happy rival. But if such suspicions displease you,
alas, you may easily cure them; their removal, which I hope for, depends
more on you than on me. Yes, with a couple of love-breathing words you
can arm my soul against jealousy, and disperse all the horrors with
which that monster has enshrouded it, by encouraging me to entertain
some expectation of a successful issue. Deign therefore to remove the
doubt that oppresses me; and, amidst so many trials, let your charming
lips grant me the assurance that you love me,--an assurance, of which, I
know, I am utterly unworthy.
ELV. Prince, your suspicions completely master you. The slightest
intimation of a heart should be understood; it does not reciprocate a
passion that continually adjures the object beloved to explain herself
more clearly. The first agitation displayed by our soul ought to satisfy
a discreet lover; if he wishes to make us declare ourselves more
plainly, he only gives us a reason for breaking our promise.
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