I am, my Lord, with indiguity, it is not what I have been used to bear.
Signor Jeronymo was disturbed. He said, He was against our seeing each other. He knew his brother's warmth; and I, he said, from the scenes that had before passed, ought perhaps to have shewn more pity than resentment.

It was owing to my regard for the delicacy of you sister, Signor Jeronymo, said I (for whom I have the tenderest sentiments), as well as to do Justice to my own conduct towards her, that I could not help showing myself affected by the word refused.
Affected by the word refused! Sir, said the General—Yes, you have soft words for hard meanings. But I, who have not your choice of words, make use of those that are explained by actions.
I was in hopes, my Lord, that I might rather have been favoured with your weight in the proposed compromise, than to have met with your displeasure.
Consider, Chevalier, coolly consider this matter: How shall we answer it to our country? (We are public people, Sir); to the church, to which we stand related; to our own character: to marry a daughter of our house to a Protestant? You say you are concerned for her honour: What must we, what can we say in her behalf, when she is reflected upon as a Lovesick girl, who, tho' stedfast in her religion, could refuse men of the first consideration, all of her own religion and country, and let a foreigner, an Englishman, carry her off?—
Preserving nevertheless by stipulation, you will remember, my Lord, her religion.—If you shall have so much to answer for to the world with such a stipulation in the Lady's favour, What shall I be thought of, who, tho' I am not, nor wish to be, a public man, am not of a low or inconsiderable family, if I, against my conscience, renounce my religion and my country, for a consideration, that, tho' the highest in private life, is a partial and selfish consideration?
No more, no more, Sir—If you can despise worldly grandeur; if you can set light by Riches, Honours, Love; my sister has this to be said in her praise, that she is the first woman, that ever I heard of, who f•ll in love with a philosopher: And she must, I think, take the consequence of such a peculiarity. Her example will not have many