th all your heart!

_Cost._ Why not? are you not convinced I love her sincerely?

_Phil._ Sincerely, I believe, but not with all your heart.

_Cost._ Why should you doubt it?

_Phil._ Because, if you loved my daughter with all your heart, there
would be none of it left for any one else.

_Cost._ You make me laugh; and who should have a part of it?

_Phil._ Ah, Mademoiselle, we understand!

_Cost._ Indeed, I do not understand.

_Phil._ Now let us dismiss Lady Modesty, and introduce Lady Sincerity.

_Cost._ [_Aside._] I cannot discover what he is aiming at.

_Phil._ Tell me, have you come on purpose to visit my daughter?

_Cost._ Yes, sir.

_Phil._ No, Mademoiselle.

_Cost._ For what, then?

_Phil._ Know I am an astrologer. I am visited by a certain spirit that
tells me everything, and hence I have learnt this: Mademoiselle Costanza
has come not to visit those who stay, but those who go away.

_Cost._ [_Aside._] I suspect there is some truth in what the spirit
says.

_Phil._ What! are you puzzled how to answer?

_Cost._ I will answer you frankly: if I have come to show civility to
your guest, I do not perceive I deserve reproof.

_Phil._ Reproof! on the contrary, praise; acts of civility ought not to
be omitted--especially when dictated by a more tender feeling.

_Cost._ You seem to be in a humour for jesting this morning.

_Phil._ And you seem to be out of spirits; but I lay a wager I can cheer
you up.

_Cost._ Indeed?

_Phil._ Without fail.

_Cost._ And how?

_Phil._ With two words.

_Cost._ And what are those fine words?

_Phil._ You shall hear them. Come this way--a little nearer. The
Lieutenant is not going away. Does not your heart leap at this
unexpected news?

_Cost._ For mercy's sake! Monsieur Philibert, do you believe me in love?

_Phil._ Say no, if you can.

_Cost._ No; I can say it.

_Phil._ Swear to it.

_Cost._ Oh, I will not swear for such a trifle.

_Phil._ You wish to hide the truth from me, as if I had not the power of
serving you, or was unwilling to do so, and of serving the poor young
man too, who is so unhappy.

_Cost._ Unhappy, for what?

_Phil._ On account of you.

_Cost._ On account of me?

_Phil._ Yes, you; we are in the dark, so that his love for you is in a
manner hidden, and every one does not know that his despair sends him
away.

_Cost._ Despair for what?

_Phil._ Because your father, from pride and avarice, will not consent to
give you to