feel the weight of my obligations; Nothing under the Sun should
induce my taking the step to which I am now compelled but the interest
of my Child, of my beloved Antonia. My health is declining; God only
knows how soon I may be summoned before his Throne. My Daughter will
be left without Parents, and should She lose the protection of the
Cisternas family, without Friends.

She is young and artless, uninstructed in the world's perfidy, and with
charms sufficient to render her an object of seduction. Judge then, how
I must tremble at the prospect before her! Judge how anxious I must be
to keep her from their society who may excite the yet dormant passions
of her bosom. You are amiable, Don Lorenzo: Antonia has a
susceptible, a loving heart, and is grateful for the favours conferred
upon us by your interference with the Marquis. Your presence makes me
tremble: I fear lest it should inspire her with sentiments which may
embitter the remainder of her life, or encourage her to cherish hopes
in her situation unjustifiable and futile. Pardon me when I avow my
terrors, and let my frankness plead in my excuse. I cannot forbid you
my House, for gratitude restrains me; I can only throw myself upon your
generosity, and entreat you to spare the feelings of an anxious, of a
doting Mother. Believe me when I assure you that I lament the
necessity of rejecting your acquaintance; But there is no remedy, and
Antonia's interest obliges me to beg you to forbear your visits. By
complying with my request, you will increase the esteem which I already
feel for you, and of which everything convinces me that you are truly
deserving.'

'Your frankness charms me,' replied Lorenzo; 'You shall find that in
your favourable opinion of me you were not deceived. Yet I hope that
the reasons, now in my power to allege, will persuade you to withdraw a
request which I cannot obey without infinite reluctance. I love your
Daughter, love her most sincerely: I wish for no greater happiness
than to inspire her with the same sentiments, and receive her hand at
the Altar as her Husband. 'Tis true, I am not rich myself; My Father's
death has left me but little in my own possession; But my expectations
justify my pretending to the Conde de las Cisternas' Daughter.'

He was proceeding, but Elvira interrupted him.

'Ah! Don Lorenzo, you forget in that pompous title the meanness of my
origin. You forget that I have now past fourteen years in Spain,
disav