Chorus (CAJETAN).
But what her royal line?
The noble only spring from noble stem.

DON MANUEL.
A secret to herself,--she ne'er has learned
Her name or fatherland.

Chorus (CAJETAN).
And not a trace
Guides to her being's undiscovered springs?

DON MANUEL.
An old domestic, the sole messenger
Sent by her unknown mother, oft bespeaks her
Of kingly race.

Chorus (CAJETAN).
And hast thou won naught else
From her garrulous age?

DON MANUEL.
Too much I feared to peril
My secret bliss!

Chorus (CAJETAN).
What were his words? What tidings
He bore--perchance thou know'st.

DON MANUEL.