that he gave me, was not a Present of
his Heart; and for the Advantage of this Alliance, I must become the
Victim of it--What! the Prince in Love! (_reply'd +Agnes+, with an
Astonishment mix'd with Indignation_) What Beauty can dispute the Empire
over a Heart so much your due? Alas, Madam, all the Respect I owe him,
cannot hinder me from murmuring against him. Accuse him of nothing,
(_interrupted_ Constantia) he does what he can; and I am more oblig'd to
him for desiring to be faithful, than if I possest his real Tenderness.
It is not enough to fight, but to overcome; and the Prince does more in
the Condition wherein he is, than I ought reasonably to hope for: In
fine, he is my Husband, and an agreeable one; to whom nothing is
wanting, but what I cannot inspire; that is, a Passion which would have
made me but too happy. Ah! Madam, (_cry'd out +Agnes+, transported with
her Tenderness for the Princess_) he is a blind and stupid Prince, who
knows not the precious Advantages he possesses. He must surely know
something, (_reply'd the Princess modestly._) But, Madam, (_reply'd
+Agnes+_) Is there any thing, not only in _Portugal_, but in all
_Spain_, that can compare with you? And without considering the charming
Qualities of your Person, can we enough admire those of your Soul? My
dear _Agnes_, (_interrupted +Constantia+, sighing_) she who robs me of
my Husband's Heart, has but too many Charms to plead his Excuse; since
it is thou, Child, whom Fortune makes use of, to give me the killing
Blow. Yes, _Agnes_, the Prince loves thee; and the Merit I know thou art
possest of, puts bounds to my Complaints, without suffering me to have
the least Resentment.'

The delicate _Agnes_ little expected to hear what the Princess told her:
Thunder would have less surpriz'd, and less oppres'd her. She remain'd a
long time without speaking; but at last, fixing her Looks all frightful
on _Constantia_, 'What say you, Madam? (_cry'd she_) And what Thoughts
have you of me? What, that I should betray you? And coming hither only
full of Ardor to be the Repose of your Life, do I bring a fatal Poison
to afflict it? What Detestation must I have for the Beauty they find in
me, without aspiring to make it appear? And how ought I to curse the
unfortunate Day, on which I first saw the Prince?--But, Madam, it cannot
be me whom Heaven has chosen to torment you, and to destroy all your
Tranquillity: No, it cannot be so much my Enemy, to put me to so great a
T