discovers he is not Romeo, his approaches are indignantly repelled by Julia; he exclaims—
Andrés.
Though you shake heaven with shouts for Romeo,
'Twill nought avail thee. I am Andrés,
And love thee, Julia, more than he dare love!
Mine own, and not the hated Romeo's now.
Old Capelete and Count Paris enter, Julia in the meanwhile
contriving to escape into another part of the wood.
Julia.
My Romeo lost!—the hated Andrés still
Pursues me here. My father's anger, too,
Knows neither check nor pause. The Count
Seeks sweet Elena to destroy that dear,
Unwilling cause of all his jealousy.
Ye thick and leafy groves, oh! shield a maid
From all these worldly ills!
For what sad fate doth cruel fortune now
Reserve the hapless, love-lorn Julia?
The inconstant moon doth shadow forth my fate,
When hid by fleecy clouds. Oh, gracious heaven,
Protect and guard a helpless love-sick maid!
Old Capelete (within).
Seek well on every side for Romeo!
