Ferd. Yes; the tame fool who submits to her caprice.
Lopez. I thought he couldn't miss it.

[Aside. Ferd. Is she not capricious, teasing, tyrannical, obstinate, perverse, absurd? ay, a wilderness of faults and follies; her looks are scorn, and her very smiles -'sdeath! I wish I hadn't mentioned her smiles! for she does smile such beaming loveliness, such fascinating brightness-Oh, death and madness! I shall die if I lose her.

Lopez. Oh, those damned smiles have undone all.

AIR.-FERDINAND.

Could I her faults remember
Forgetting every charm,
Soon would impartial reason
The Tyrant Love disarm.
But when enraged I number
Each failing of her mind,
Love still suggests each beauty,

And sees-while Reason's blind.

Lopez. Here comes Don Antonio, Sir.

Ferd. Well, go you home-I shall be there presently. Lopez. Ah, those cursed smiles.

Enter ANTONIO.

[Exit.

Ferd. Antonio, Lopez tells me he left you chanting before our door. Was my father waked?

Ant. Yes, yes; he has a singular affection for music, so I left him roaring at his barred window, like the prince of Bajazet in the cage. And what brings you out so carly?

Ferd. I believe I told you, that to-morrow was the day fixed by Don Pedro and Clara's unnatural stepmother, for her to enter a convent, in order that her brat might possess her fortune; made desperate by this, I procured a key to the door, and bribed Clara's maid to leave it unbolted; at two this morning, I entered, unperceived, and stole to her chamber. I found her waking and weeping.

Ant. Happy Ferdinand!

**

Ferd. 'Sdeath! hear the conclusion. I was rated as the most confident ruffian, for daring to approach her room at that hour of night.

Ant. Ay, ay, this was at first?

Ferd. No such thing; she would not hear a word from me, but threatened to raise her mother, if I did not instantly leave her.

Ant. Well, but at last?
Ferd. At last! why,

house, as I came in.

was forced to leave the

Ant. And did you do nothing to offend her?

Ferd. Nothing, as I hope to be saved! I believe, I might snatch a dozen or two of kisses.

Ant. Was that all? Well, I think I never heard of such assurance!

Ferd. Zounds! I tell you, I behaved with the ulmost respect.

Ant. O Lord! I don't mean you, but in her-but hark ye, Ferdinand, did you leave your key with them? Ferd. Yes; the maid, who saw me out, took it from the door.

Ant. Then, my life for it, her mistress elopes after you.

Ferd. Ay, to bless my rival, perhaps. I am in a humour to suspect every body. You loved her once, and thought her an angel, as I do now.

Ant. Yes, I loved her, till I found she wouldn't love me, and then I discovered that she hadn't a good feature in her face.

AIR.

I ne'er could any lustre see

In eyes that would not look on me;
1 ne'er saw nectar on a lip,

But where my own did hope to sip.
Has the maid, who seeks my heart,
Cheeks of rose, untouch'd by art?
I will own the colour true,

When yielding blushes aid their huc.

Is her hand so soft and pure?
I must press it, to be sure;
Nor can I be certain then,
Till it, grateful, press again.
Must I, with attentive eye,
Watch her heaving bosom sigh?
I will do so, when I sec

That heaving bosom sigh for me.

Besides, Ferdinand, you have full security in my love for your sister. Help me there, and I can never disturb you with Clara.

Ferd. As far as I can, consistently with the honour of our family, you know I will; but there must be no eloping.

Ant. And yet, now, you would carry off Clara?

Ferd. Ah, that's a different case. We never mean that others should act to our sisters and wives, as we do to others. But, to-morrow, Clara is to be forced into a convent.

Ant. Well, and am not I so unfortunately circumstanced? To-morrow, your father forces Louisa to marry Isaac, the Portuguese-but come with me, and we'll devise something, 1 warrant.

Ferd. I must go home.

Ant. Well, adieu!

Ferd. But, Antonio, if you did not love my sister, you have too much honour and friendship to supplant me with Clara.

Friendship is the bond of reason;
But if beauty disapprove,
Heaven dissolves all other treason,

In the heart that's true to love.

The faith which to my friend I swore,

As a civil oath I view ;

But to the charms which I adore,

'Tis religion to be true.

[Exit.

Ferd. There is always a levity in Antonio's manner

of replying to me on this subject, that is very alarming -'Sdeath! if Clara should love him, after all. [Exit.

SCENE III.-A Room in Don Jerome's House.

Enter LOUISA and DUEN NA.

Louisa. But, my dear Margaret, my charming Duenna, do you think we shall succeed?

Duenna. I tell you again, I have no doubt on't; but it must be instantly put to the trial. Every thing is prepared in your room, and for the rest, we must trust to fortune.

Louisa. My father's oath was, never to see me till I had consented to-

Duenna. 'Twas thus I overheard him say to his friend, Don Guzman-'I will demand of her to-morrow, once for all, whether she will consent to marry Isaac Mendoza; if she hesitates, I will make a solemn oath never to see or to speak to her, till she returns to her duty.'-These were his words.

Louisa. And on his known obstinate adherence to what he has once said, you have formed this plan for my escape. But have you secured my maid in our

interest?

Duenna. She is a party in the whole; but remember, if we succeed, you resign all right and title in little Isaac, the Jew, over to me.

Louisa. That I do, with all my soul: get him, if you can, and I shall wish you joy, most heartily. He is twenty times as rich as my poor Antonio.

AIR.-LOUISA.

Thou canst not boast of fortune's store,
My love, while me they wealthy call;

But I was glad to find thee poor,
For, with my heart, I'd give thee all.
And then the grateful youth shall own,
I loved him for himself alone.

But when his worth my hand shall gain,
No word or look of mine shall shew
That I the smallest thought retain
Of what my bounty did bestow.

Yet still his grateful heart shall own,
I loved him for himself alone.

Duenna. I hear Don Jerome coming. Quick, give ane the last letter I brought you from Antonio-you know that is to be the ground of my dismission. I must slip out to seal it up, as undelivered. [Exit [JEROME speaking within.

Enter DON JEROME and FERDINAND.

Jerome. What, I suppose, you have been serenading, too! Eh, disturbing some peaceable neighbourhood with villanous catgut, and lascivious piping! Out on't! you set your sister, here, a vile example; but I come to tell you, madam, that I'll suffer no more of these midnight incantations-these amorous orgies, that steal the senses in the hearing; as, they say, Egyptian embalmers serve mummies, extracting the brain through the ears: however, there's an end of your frolics-Isaac Mendoza will be here presently, and to-morrow you shall marry him.

Louisa. Never, while I have life.

Ferd. Indeed, sir, I wonder how you can think of such a man for a son-in law.

Jerome. Sir, you are very kind, to favour me with your sentiments:-and pray, what is your objection to him?

Ferd. He is a Portuguese, in the first place.

Jerome. No such thing, boy; he has forsworn his country.

Louisa. He is a Jew.

Jerome. Another mistake: he has been a Christian these six weeks.

Ferd. Ay, he left his old religion for an estate, and has not had time to get a new one.

Louisa. But stands like a dead wall between church