_Enter_ DONNA LOUISA _and_ DONNA CLARA.
_Don. Louisa_. And you really wish my brother may not find you out?
_Don. Clara_. Why else have I concealed myself under this disguise?
_Don. Louisa_. Why, perhaps because the dress becomes you: for you
certainly don't intend to be a nun for life.
_Don. Clara_. If, indeed, Ferdinand had not offended me so last night--
_Don. Louisa_. Come, come, it was his fear of losing you made him so
rash.
_Don. Clara_. Well, you may think me cruel, but I swear, if he were
here this instant, I believe I should forgive him.
SONG.
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 met
In spite of injured pride,
I fear my eyes would pardon
Before my tongue could chide.
_Don. Louisa_. I protest, Clara, I shall begin to think you are
seriously resolved to enter on your probation.
_Don. Clara_. And, seriously, I very much doubt whether the character
of a nun would not become me best.
_Don. 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 veil for above a night.
_Don. 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_ DON ANTONIO.
_Don Ant_. Well, my Louisa, any news since I left you?
_Don. Louisa_. None. The messenger is not yet returned from my father.
_Don Ant_. Well, I confess, I do not perceive what we are to expect
from him.
_Don. 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.--_Don 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 heavens, 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 uncontroll'd, in mutual bliss,
I 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_.
_Don. Louisa_. My father's answer, I suppose.
_Don Ant_. My dearest Louisa, you may be assured that it contains
nothing but threats and reproaches.
_Don. Louisa_. Let us see, 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_.
_Don Ant_. You jest, Louisa!
_Don. Louisa_. [_Gives him the letter_..] Read! read!
_Don 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.
_Don. Louisa_. Shall we not then return and thank my father?
_Don Ant_. But first let the priest put it out of his power to recall
his word.--I'll fly to procure one.
_Don. Louisa_. Nay, if you part with me again, perhaps you may lose
me.
_Don 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.
_Don. Louisa_. I'm afraid not, Antonio--for in religion, as in
friendship, they who profess most are the least sincere. [_Exeunt_.]
_Re-enter_ DONNA CLARA.
_Don. 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_.]
_Enter_ DON FERDINAND.
_Don Ferd_. Yes, those were certainly they--my information was right.
[_Going_.]
_Don. Clara_. [_Stops him_.] Pray, signor, what is your business here?
_Don Ferd_. No matter--no matter! Oh! they stop.--[_Looks out_.] Yes,
that is the perfidious Clara indeed!
_Don. Clara_. So, a jealous error--I'm glad to see him so moved.
[_Aside_.]
_Don Ferd_. Her disguise can't conceal her--no, no, I know her too
well.
_Don. Clara_. [_Aside_.] Wonderful discernment!--[_Aloud_.] But,
signor----
_Don Ferd_. Be quiet, good nun; don't tease me!--By heavens, she leans
upon his arm, hangs fondly on it! O woman, woman!
_Don. Clar_. But, signor, who is it you want?
_Don Ferd_. Not you, not you, so prythee don't tease me. Yet pray
stay--gentle nun, was it not Donna Clara d'Almanza just parted from
you?
_Don. Clara_. Clara d'Almanza, signor, is not yet out of the garden.
_Don Ferd_. Ay, ay, I knew I was right! And pray is not that
gentleman, now at the porch with her, Antonio d'Ercilla?
_Don. Clara_. It is indeed, signor.
_Don Ferd_. So, so; but now one question more--can you inform me for
what purpose they have gone away?
_Don. Clara_. They are gone to be married, I believe.
_Don Ferd_. Very well--enough. Now if I don't mar their wedding!
[_Exit_.]
_Don. Clara_. [_Unveils_.] I thought jealousy had made lovers quick-
sighted, but it has made mine blind. Louisa's story accounts to me for
this error, and I am glad to find I have power enough over him to make
him so unhappy. But why should not I be present at his surprise when
undeceived? When he's through the porch, I'll follow him; and,
perhaps, Louisa shall not singly be a bride.
SONG.
Adieu, thou dreary pile, where never dies
The sullen echo of repentant sighs!
Ye sister mourners of each lonely cell
Inured to hymns and sorrow, fare ye well!
For happier scenes I fly this darksome grove,
To saints a prison, but a tomb to love! [_Exit_.]