CARLOS.
What words are these? O Heaven, what have I done?

PRINCESS.
Nothing I hope of which you need repent!
How pleasantly was I surprised to find
Concealed within the glove a little note,
Full of the warmest tenderest romance,

CARLOS (interrupting her suddenly).
Mere poetry! no more. My fancy teems
With idle bubbles oft, which break as soon
As they arise--and this was one of them;
So, prithee, let us talk of it no more.

PRINCESS (leaving him with astonishment, and regarding him for
some time at a distance).
I am exhausted--all attempts are vain
To hold this youth. He still eludes my grasp.
[Remains silent a few moments.
But stay! Perchance 'tis man's unbounded pride,
That thus to add a zest to my delight.
Assumes a mask of timid diffidence.
'Tis so.
[She approaches the PRINCE again, and looks at him doubtingly.
Explain yourself, prince, I entreat you.
For here I stand before a magic casket,
Which all my keys are powerless to unlock.