CID. That is just what I suffer from, my sister. All that you say, I
see myself, and you depict everything that I experience.

AGL. Well, let us discuss the matter. What all-powerful charms have
been bestowed upon her? Tell me how, by the least of her looks, she
has acquired honour in the great art of pleasing? What is there in her
person that can inspire such passion? What right of sway over all
hearts has her beauty given her? She has some comeliness, some of the
brilliancy of youth; we are all agreed upon that, and I do not gainsay
it. But must we yield to her because we are her seniors by a few
years? Must we, therefore, consider ourselves quite commonplace? Are
we made so as to excite derision? Have we no charms, no power of
pleasing, no complexion, no good eyes, no dignity and bearing, by
which we may win hearts? Do me the favour, sister, to speak to me
frankly. Am I, in your opinion, so fashioned that my merit is below
hers? And do you think that she surpasses me in her attire?

CID. You, my sister? By no means. Yesterday, at the hunt, I compared
you and her for a long time, and, without flattery, you appeared to me
the more beautiful. But tell me truly, sister, without blandishment,
am I deceiving myself when I think that I am so framed as to deserve
the glory of a conquest?

AGL. You, my sister? You possess, without disguise, everything that
can excite a loving passion. Your least actions are full of a charm
which moves my soul. And I would be your lover if I were not a woman.

CID. Whence comes it, then, that she bears off the palm from us; that,
at the first glance, all hearts give up the struggle, and that no
tribute of sighs and vows is paid to our loveliness?