Camilla.--Nor do I blame your heart for differing from me, my poor
girl. I have acknowledged to you without disguise that were _I_ at
your time of life, and were such a man as Flodoardo to throw himself
in my way, I could not receive his attentions with indifference. It
cannot be denied that this young stranger is uncommonly pleasing,
and, indeed, for any woman whose heart is disengaged, an uncommonly
DANGEROUS companion. There is something very prepossessing in his
appearance, his manners are elegant, and short as has been his abode
in Venice, it is already past doubting that there are many noble and
striking features in his character. But alas, after all, he is but
a poor nobleman, and it is not very probable that the rich and
powerful Doge of Venice will ever bestow his niece on one who, to
speak plainly, arrived here little better than a beggar. No, no,
child, believe me, a romantic adventurer is no fit husband for
Rosabella of Corfu.

Rosabella.--Dear Camilla, who was talking about husbands? What I
feel for Flodoardo is merely affection, friendship.

Camilla.--Indeed! Then you would be perfectly satisfied, should
some one of our wealthy ladies bestow her hand on Flodoardo?

Rosabella (hastily).--Oh! Flodoardo would not ACCEPT her hand,
Camilla; of that I am sure.

Camilla.--Child, child, you would willingly deceive yourself. But
be assured that a girl who loves ever connects, perhaps
unconsciously, the wish for an eternal UNION with the idea of
eternal AFFECTION. Now this is a wish which you cannot indulge in
regard to Flodoardo without seriously offending your uncle, who,