_Don. Louisa_.
Soon may you return a prosperous wooer,
But think what I suffer the while.
Alone, and away from the man whom I love,
In strangers I'm forced to confide.

_Isaac_.
Dear lady, my friend you may trust, and he'll prove
Your servant, protector, and guide.

AIR.

_Don Car_.
Gentle maid, ah! why suspect me?
Let me serve thee--then reject me.
Canst thou trust, and I deceive thee?
Art thou sad, and shall I grieve thee?
Gentle maid, ah I why suspect me?
Let me serve thee--then reject me.

TRIO.

_Don. Louisa_.
Never mayst thou happy be,
If in aught thou'rt false to me.

_Isaac_.
Never may he happy be,
If in aught he's false to thee.