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.]
SCENE IV.
A Court before the Priory.
Enter ISAAC, crossing the stage, DON ANTONIO following.
Don Ant. What, my friend Isaac!
Isaac. What, Antonio! wish me joy! I have Louisa safe.
Don Ant. Have you? I wish you joy with all my soul.
Isaac. Yes, I come here to procure a priest to marry us.
Don Ant. So, then, we are both on the same errand; I am come to look for Father Paul.
Isaac. Ha! I’m glad on’t — but, i’faith, he must tack me first; my love is waiting.
Don Ant. So is mine — I left her in the porch.
Isaac. Ay, but I’m in haste to go back to Don Jerome.
Don Ant. And so am I too.
Isaac. Well, perhaps he’ll save time, and marry us both together — or I’ll be your father, and you shall be mine. Come along — but you are obliged to me for all this.
Don Ant. Yes, yes. [Exeunt.]
SCENE V.
A Room in the Priory.
FATHER PAUL, FATHER FRANCIS, FATHER AUGUSTINE, and other FRIARS, discovered at a table drinking.
GLEE AND CHORUS.
This bottle’s the sun of our table,
His beams are rosy wine
We, planets, that are not able
Without his help to shine.
Let mirth and glee abound!
You’ll soon grow bright
With borrow’d light,
And shine as he goes round.
Paul. Brother Francis, toss the bottle about, and give me your toast.
Fran. Have we drunk the Abbess of St. Ursuline?
Paul. Yes, yes; she was the last.
Fran. Then I’ll give you the blue-eyed nun of St. Catherine’s.
Paul. With all my heart. — [Drinks.] Pray, brother Augustine, were there any benefactions left in my absence?
Aug. Don Juan Corduba has left a hundred ducats, to remember him in our masses.
Paul. Has he? let them be paid to our wine-merchant, and we’ll remember him in our cups, which will do just as well. Anything more?
Aug. Yes; Baptista, the rich miser, who died last week, has bequeathed us a thousand pistoles, and the silver lamp he used in his own chamber, to burn before the image of St. Anthony.
Paul. ’Twas well meant, but we’ll employ his money better — Baptista’s bounty shall light the living, not the dead. St. Anthony is not afraid to be left in the dark, though he was. — [Knocking.] See who’s there.
[FATHER FRANCIS goes to the door and opens it.]
Enter PORTER.
Port. Here’s one without, in pressing haste to speak with Father Paul.
Fran. Brother Paul!
[FATHER PAUL comes from behind a curtain with a glass of wine, and in his hand a piece of cake.]
Paul. Here! how durst you, fellow, thus abruptly break in upon our devotions?
Port. I thought they were finished.
Paul. No, they were not — were they, brother Francis?
Fran. Not by a bottle each.
Paul. But neither you nor your fellows mark how the hours go; no, you mind nothing but the gratifying of your appetites; ye eat, and swill, and sleep, and gourmandise, and thrive, while we are wasting in mortification.
Port. We ask no more than nature craves.
Paul. ’Tis false, ye have more appetites than hairs! and your flushed, sleek, and pampered appearance is the disgrace of our order — out on’t! If you are hungry, can’t you be content with the wholesome roots of the earth? and if you are dry, isn’t there the crystal spring? — [Drinks.] Put this away, — [Gives the glass] and show me where I am wanted. — [PORTER drains the glass. — PAUL, going, turns.] So you would have drunk it if there had been any left! Ah, glutton! glutton! [Exeunt.]
SCENE VI.
The Court before the Priory.
Enter ISAAC and DON ANTONIO.
Isaac. A plaguey while coming, this same father Paul. — He’s detained at vespers, I suppose, poor fellow.
Don Ant. No, here he comes.
Enter FATHER PAUL.
Good father Paul, I crave your blessing.
Isaac. Yes, good father Paul, we are come to beg a favour.
Paul. What is it, pray?
Isaac. To marry us, good father Paul; and in truth thou dost look like the priest of Hymen.
Paul. In short, I may be called so; for I deal in repentance and mortification.
Isaac. No, no, thou seemest an officer of Hymen, because thy presence speaks content and good humour.
Paul. Alas, my appearance is deceitful. Bloated I am, indeed! for fasting is a windy recreation, and it hath swollen me like a bladder.
Don Ant. But thou hast a good fresh colour in thy face, father; rosy, i’faith!
Paul. Yes, I have blushed for mankind, till the hue of my shame is as fixed as their vices.
Isaac. Good man!
Paul. And I have laboured, too, but to what purpose? they continue to sin under my very nose.
Isaac. Efecks, father, I should have guessed as much, for your nose seems to be put to the blush more than any other part of your face.
Paul. Go, you’re a wag.
Don Ant. But to the purpose, father — will you officiate for us?
Paul. To join young people thus clandestinely is not safe: and, indeed, I have in my heart many weighty reasons against it.
Don Ant. And I have in my hand many weighty reasons for it. Isaac, haven’t you an argument or two in our favour about you?
Isaac. Yes, yes; here is a most unanswerable purse.
Paul. For shame! you make me angry: you forget who I am, and when importunate people have forced their trash — ay, into this pocket here — or into this — why, then the sin was theirs. — [They put money into his pockets.] Fie, now how you distress me! I would return it, but that I must touch it that way, and so wrong my oath.
Don Ant. Now then, come with us.
Isaac. Ay, now give us our title to joy and rapture.
Paul. Well, when your hour of repentance comes, don’t blame me.
Don Ant. [Aside.] No bad caution to my friend Isaac. — [Aloud.] Well, well, father, do you do your part, and I’ll abide the consequences.
Isaac. Ay, and so will I.
Enter DONNA LOUISA, running.
> Don. Louisa. O Antonio, Ferdinand is at the porch, and inquiring for us.
Isaac. Who? Don Ferdinand! he’s not inquiring for me, I hope.
Don Ant. Fear not, my love; I’ll soon pacify him.
Isaac. Egad, you won’t. Antonio, take my advice, and run away; this Ferdinand is the most unmerciful dog, and has the cursedest long sword! and, upon my, soul, he comes on purpose to cut your throat.
Don Ant. Never fear, never fear.
Isaac. Well, you may stay if you will; but I’ll get some one to marry me: for by St. Iago, he shall never meet me again, while I am master of a pair of heels. [Runs out. — DONNA LOUISA lets down her veil.]
Enter DON FERDINAND.
Don Ferd. So, sir, I have met with you at last.
Don Ant. Well, sir.
Don Ferd. Base, treacherous man! whence can a false, deceitful soul, like yours, borrow confidence, to look so steadily on the man you’ve injured!
Don Ant. Ferdinand, you are too warm: ’tis true you find me on the point of wedding one I loved beyond my life; but no argument of mine prevailed on her to elope. — I scorn deceit, as much as you. By heaven I knew not that she had left her father’s till I saw her!
Don Ferd. What a mean excuse! You have wronged your friend, then, for one, whose wanton forwardness anticipated your treachery — of this, indeed, your Jew pander informed me; but let your conduct be consistent, and since you have dared to do a wrong, follow me, and show you have a spirit to avow it.
Don. Louisa. Antonio, I perceive his mistake — leave him to me.
Paul. Friend, you are rude, to interrupt the union of two willing hearts.
Don Ferd. No, meddling priest! the hand he seeks is mine.
Paul. If so, I’ll proceed no further. Lady, did you ever promise this youth your hand? [To DONNA LOUISA, who shakes her head.]
Don Ferd. Clara, I thank you for your silence — I would not have heard your tongue avow such falsity; be’t your punishment to remember that I have not reproached you.
Enter DONNA CLARA, veiled.
Don. Clara. What mockery is this?
Don Ferd. Antonio, you are protected now, but we shall meet. [Going, DONNA CLARA holds one arm, and DONNA LOUISA the other.]
DUET.
Don. Louisa.
Turn thee round, I pray thee,
Calm awhile thy rage.
Don. Clara.
I must help to stay thee,
And thy wrath assuage.
Don. Louisa.
Couldst thou not discover
One so dear to thee?
Don. Clara.
Canst thou be a lover,
And thus fly from me? [Both unveil.]
Don Ferd. How’s this? My sister! Clara, too — I’m confounded.
Don. Louisa. ’Tis even so, good brother.
Paul. How! what impiety? did the man want to marry his own sister?
Don. Louisa. And ar’n’t you ashamed of yourself not to know your own sister?
Don. Clara. To drive away your own mistress ——
Don. Louisa. Don’t you see how jealousy blinds people?
Don. Clara. Ay, and will you ever be jealous again?
Don Ferd. Never — never! — You, sister, I know will forgive me — but how, Clara, shall I presume ——
Don. Clara. No, no; just now you told me not to tease you— “Who do you want, good signor?” “Not you, not you!” Oh you blind wretch! but swear never to be jealous again, and I’ll forgive you.
Don Ferd. By all ——
Don. Clara. There, that will do — you’ll keep the oath just as well. [Gives her hand.]
Don. Louisa. But, brother, here is one to whom some apology is due.
Don Ferd. Antonio, I am ashamed to think ——
Don Ant. Not a word of excuse, Ferdinand — I have not been in love myself without learning that a lover’s anger should never be resented. But come — let us retire, with this good father, and we’ll explain to you the cause of this error.
GLEE AND CHORUS.
Oft does Hymen smile to hear
Wordy vows of feign’d regard;
Well, he knows when they’re sincere,
Never slow to give reward
For his glory is to prove
Kind to those who wed for love. [Exeunt.]
SCENE VII
A Grand Saloon in DON JEROME’S House.
Enter DON JEROME, LOPEZ, and SERVANTS.
Don Jer. Be sure, now, let everything be in the best order — let all my servants have on their merriest faces: but tell them to get as little drunk as possible, till after supper. — [Exeunt SERVANTS.] So, Lopez, where’s your master? shan’t we have him at supper?
Lop. Indeed, I believe not, sir — he’s mad, I doubt! I’m sure he has frighted me from him.
Don Jer. Ay, ay, he’s after some wench, I suppose: a young rake! Well, well, we’ll be merry without him. [Exit LOPEZ.]
Enter a SERVANT.
Ser. Sir, here is Signor Isaac. [Exit.]
Enter ISAAC.
Don Jer. So, my dear son-in-law — there, take my blessing and forgiveness. But where’s my daughter? where’s Louisa?
Isaac. She’s without, impatient for a blessing, but almost afraid to enter.
Don Jer. Oh, fly and bring her in. — [Exit ISAAC.] Poor girl, I long to see her pretty face.
Isaac. [Without.] Come, my, charmer! my trembling angel!
Re-enter ISAAC with DUENNA; DON JEROME runs to meet them; she kneels.
Don Jer. Come to my arms, my — [Starts back.] Why, who the devil have we here?
Isaac. Nay, Don Jerome, you promised her forgiveness; see how the dear creature droops!
Don Jer. Droops indeed! Why, Gad take me, this is old Margaret! But where’s my daughter? where’s Louisa?
Isaac. Why, here, before your eyes — nay, don’t be abashed, my sweet wife!
Don Jer. Wife with a vengeance! Why, zounds! you have not married the Duenna!
Duen. [Kneeling.] Oh, dear papa! you’ll not disown me, sure!
Don Jer. Papa! papa! Why, zounds! your impudence is as great as your ugliness!
Isaac. Rise, my charmer, go throw your snowy arms about his neck, and convince him you are ——
Duen. Oh, sir, forgive me! [Embraces him.]
Don Jer. Help! murder!
Enter SERVANTS.
Ser. What’s the matter, sir?
Don Jer. Why, here, this damned Jew has brought an old harridan to strangle me.
Isaac. Lord, it is his own daughter, and he is so hard-hearted he won’t forgive her!
Enter DON ANTONIO and DONNA LOUISA; they kneel.
Don Jer. Zounds and fury! what’s here now? who sent for you, sir, and who the devil are you?
Don Ant. This lady’s husband, sir.
Isaac. Ay, that he is, I’ll be sworn; for I left them with a priest, and was to have given her away.
Don Jer. You were?
Isaac. Ay; that’s my honest friend, Antonio; and that’s the little girl I told you I had hampered him with.
Don Jer. Why, you are either drunk or mad — this is my daughter.
Isaac. No, no; ’tis you are both drunk and mad, I think — here’s your daughter.
Don Jer. Hark ye, old iniquity! will you explain all this, or not?
Duen. Come then, Don Jerome, I will — though our habits might inform you all. Look on your daughter, there, and on me.
Isaac. What’s this I hear?
Duen. The truth is, that in your passion this morning you made a small mistake; for you turned your daughter out of doors, and locked up your humble servant.
Isaac. O Lud! O Lud! here’s a pretty fellow, to turn his daughter out of doors, instead of an old Duenna!
Don Jer. And, O Lud! O Lud! here’s a pretty fellow, to marry an old Duenna instead of my daughter! But how came the rest about?
Duen. I have only to add, that I remained in your daughter’s place, and had the good fortune to engage the affections of my sweet husband here.
Isaac. Her husband! why, you old witch, do you think I’ll be your husband now? This is a trick, a cheat! and you ought all to be ashamed of yourselves.
Don Ant. Hark ye, Isaac, do you dare to complain of tricking? Don Jerome, I give you my word, this cunning Portuguese has brought all this upon himself, by endeavouring to overreach you, by getting your daughter’s fortune, without making any settlement in return.
Don Jer. Overreach me!
Don. Louisa. ’Tis so, indeed, sir, and we can prove it to you.
Don Jer. Why, Gad, take me, it must be so, or he never could put up with such a face as Margaret’s — so, little Solomon, I wish you joy of your wife, with all my soul.
Don. Louisa. Isaac, tricking is all fair in love — let you alone for the plot!
Don Ant. A cunning dog, ar’n’t you? A sly little villain, eh?
Don. Louisa. Roguish, perhaps; but keen, devilish keen!
Don Jer. Yes, yes; his aunt always called him little Solomon.
Isaac. Why, the plagues of Egypt upon you all! but do you think I’ll submit to such an imposition?
Don Ant. Isaac, one serious word — you’d better be content as you are; for, believe me, you will find that, in the opinion of the world, there is not a fairer subject for contempt and ridicule than a knave become the dupe of his own art.
Isaac. I don’t care — I’ll not endure this. Don Jerome, ’tis you have done this — you would be so cursed positive about the beauty of her you locked up, and all the time I told you she was as old as my mother, and as ugly as the devil.
Duen. Why, you little insignificant reptile! ——
Don Jer. That’s right! — attack him, Margaret.
Duen. Dare such a thing as you pretend to talk of beauty? — A walking rouleau? — a body that seems to owe all its consequence to the dropsy! a pair of eyes like two dead beetles in a wad of brown dough! a beard like an artichoke, with dry, shrivelled jaws that would disgrace the mummy of a monkey?
Don Jer. Well done, Margaret!
Duen. But you shall know that I have a brother who wears a sword — and, if you don’t do me justice —
Isaac. Fire seize your brother, and you too! I’ll fly to Jerusalem to avoid you!
Duen. Fly where you will, I’ll follow you.
Don Jer. Throw your snowy arms about him, Margaret. — [Exeunt ISAAC and DUENNA.] But, Louisa, are you really married to this modest gentleman?
Delphi Complete Works of Richard Brinsley Sheridan Page 18