Изображения страниц
PDF
EPUB

lover, are you? I'faith, as sure as can be, he isThis is a better joke than t'other, ha! ha! ha!

Ferd. What, do you laugh? you vile, mischievous varlet! [Collars him.] But that you're beneath my anger, I'd tear your heart out. [Throws him from him. Isaac. O mercy! here's usage for a brother-in-law ! Ferd. But, hark ye, rascal! tell me directly where these false friends are gone, or, by my soul

[Draws. Isaac. For Heaven's sake, now, my dear brother-inlaw, don't be in a rage-I'll recollect as well as I can. Ferd. Be quick then!

Isaac. I will, I will-but people's memories differ -some have a treacherous memory-now mine is a cowardly memory-it takes to its heels, at sight of a drawn sword, it does, i'faith; and I could as soon fight as recollect.

Ferd. Zounds! tell me the truth, and I won't hurt you.

Isaac. No, no, I know you won't, my dear brotherin-law-but that ill-looking thing thereFerd. What, then, you won't tell me?

Isaac. Yes, yes, I will; I'll tell you all, upon my soul-but why need you listen sword in hand? Ferd. Why, there. [Puts up.] Now.

Isaac. Why then, I believe they are gone to-that is, my friend Carlos told me, he had left Donna Clara dear Ferdinand, keep your hands off at the convent of St Catharine.

Ferd. St Catharine !

Isaac. Yes; and that Antonio was to come to her there.

Ferd. Is this the truth?

Isaac. It is indeed-and all I know, as I hope for life.

Ferd. Well, coward, take your life-'Tis that false, dishonourable Antonio, who shall feel my vengeance.

Isaac. Ay, ay, kill him-cut his throat, and wel

come.

1

Ferd. But, for Clara-infamy on her! she is not worth my resentment.

Isaac. No more she is, my dear brother-in-law. I'faith, I would not be angry about her she is not worth it, indeed.

Ferd. 'Tis false ! she is worth the enmity of princes. Isaac. True, true, so she is; and I pity you exceedingly for having lost her.

Ferd. 'Sdeath, you rascal! how durst you talk of pitying me!

Isaac. Oh, dear brother-in-law, I beg pardon, I don't pity you in the least, upon my soul.

Ferd. Get hence, fool, and provoke me no further; nothing but your insignificance saves you.

Isaac. I'faith, then my insignificance is the best friend I have. I'm going, dear Ferdinand-What a curst hot-headed bully it is! [Exeunt.

SCENE III.

The Garden of the Convent.

Enter LOUISA and CLARA.

Louisa. And you really wish my brother may not find you out?

Clara. Why else have I concealed myself under this disguise?

Louisa. Why, perhaps, because the dress becomes you; for you certainly don't intend to be a nun for

Clara. If, indeed, Ferdinand had not offended me so last night.

Louisa. Come, come, it was his fear of losing you made him so rash.

Clara. Well, you may think me cruel-but I swear, if he were here this instant, I believe I should forgive him.

SONG-CLARA.

By him we love offended,
How soon our anger flies!
One day apart, 'tis ended,
Behold him, and it dies.

Last night, your roving brother,
Enraged I bade depart,
And sure his rude presumption
Deserved to lose my heart.

Yet, were he now before me,
In spite of injured pride,
I fear my eyes wou'd pardon
Before my tongue cou'd chide.

Louisa. I protest, Clara, I shall begin to think you are seriously resolved to enter on your probation. Clara. And, seriously, I very much doubt whether the character of a nun would not become me best.

Louisa. Why, to be sure, the character of a nun is a very becoming one at a masquerade, but no pretty woman, in her senses, ever thought of taking the yeil for above a night.

Clara. Yonder I see your Antonio is returned—I shall only interrupt you; ah, Louisa, with what happy eagerness you turn to look for him!

[Exit.

Enter ANTONIO.

Ant. Well, my Louisa, any news since I left you? Louisa. None-The messenger is not returned from my father.

Ant. Well, I confess, I do not perceive what we are to expect from him.

Louisa. I shall be easier, however, in having made the trial; I do not doubt your sincerity, Antonio; but there is a chilling air around poverty, that often kills affection, that was not nursed in it-If we would make love our household god, we had best secure him a comfortable roof.

SONG ANTONIO.

How oft, Louisa, hast thou told,
Nor wilt thou the fond boast disown,
Thou wouldst not lose Antonio's love,
To reign the partner of a throne.
And by those lips, that spoke so kind,
And by that hand, I've press'd to mine,
To be the lord of wealth and power,
By Heav'ns, I would not part with thine!

Then how, my soul, can we be poor,
Who own what kingdoms could not buy?
Of this true heart thou shalt be queen,
In serving thee, a monarch I.
Thus uncontrol'd, in mutual bliss,

And rich in love's exhaustless mine,
Do thou snatch treasures from my lips,
And I'll take kingdoms back from thine.

Enter MAID, with a Letter.

Louisa, My father's answer, I suppose.

Ant. My dearest Louisa, you may be assured, that it contains nothing but threats and reproaches.

Louisa. Let us sec, however-[Reads.] Dearest daughter, make your lover happy; you have my full consent to marry as your whim has chosen, but be sure come home and sup with your affectionate father.

Ant. You jest, Louisa!

Louisa. [Gives him the Letter.] Read-read.

Ant. 'Tis so, by Heavens !-sure there must be some mistake; but that's none of our business--Now, Louisa, you have no excuse for delay.

Louisa. Shall we not then return and thank my father?

Ant. But first let the priest put it out of his power to recall his word.-I'll fy to procure one.

Louisa. Nay, if you part with me again, perhaps you may lose me.

Ant. Come then-there is a friar of a neighbouring convent is my friend; you have already been diverted by the manners of a nunnery, let us see, whether there is less hypocrisy among the holy fathers. Louisa. I'm afraid nut, Antonio-for in religion, as in friendship, they who profess most are ever the least sincere. [Exeunt.

Enter CLARA.

Clara. So, yonder they go, as happy as a mutual and confessed affection can make them, while I am left in solitude. Heigho! love may perhaps excuse the rashness of an elopement from one's friend, but I am sure, nothing but the presence of the man we love can support it-Ha! what do I see! Ferdinand, as I live! how could he gain admission-by potent gold, I suppose, as Antonio did-How eager and disturbed he seems-he shall not know me as yet.

[Lets down her Veil,

« ПредыдущаяПродолжить »