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We, planets, that are not able,
Isaac. Yes, good Father Paul, we are coing 10 Without bis help to shine.
beg a favour.
Paul. What is it, pray?
Isaac. To marry us, good Father Paul; and in
truth thou dost look the very priest of Hymen. And shine as he goes round.
Paul. In short, I may be called so; for I deal in
repentance and mortification. Paul. Brother Francis, toss the bottle about, and Isaac. No, no; thou seemest an officer of Hymen, give me your toast.
because thy presence speaks content and good Francis. Have we drunk the abbess of St. Ursu- humour. line?
Paul. Alas ! my appearance is deceitful. Bloated Partl. Yes, yes; she was the last.
I am, indeed! for fasting is a windy recreation, Francis. Then I'll give you the blue-eyed nun of and it hath swoln me like a bladder. St. Catharine's.
Ant. But thou hast a good fresh colour in thy Paul. With all my heart. [Drinks.] Pray, bro. face, father,-rosy, i'faith. ther Augustine, were there any benefactions left Paul. Yes, I have blushed for mankind, till the in my absence ?
hue of my shame is as fixed as their vices. Francis. Don Juan Corduba has left a hundred Isaac. Good man ! ducats, to remember him iu our masses.
Paul. And I have laboured, too, but to what Paul. Has he? Let them be paid to our wine- purpose? They continue to sin under my very merchant, and we'll remember him in our cups, nose. which will do just as well. Anything more?
Isaac. Efecks, father, I should bave guessed as Aug. Yes; Baptista, the richi miser, who died much, for your nose seems to be put to the blush last week, has bequeathed us a thousand pistoles, more than any other part of your face. and the silver lamp he used in his own chamber, Paul. Go, you're a wag. to burn before the image of St. Anthony.
Ant. But, to the purpose, father: will you offiPaul. 'Twas well meant; but we'll employ his ciate for us? money better. Baptista's bounty shall light the Paul. To join young people thus clandestinels is living, not the dead. St. Anthony is not afraid to not safe ; and, indeed, I have in my heart many be left in the dark, though he was — See, who's weighty reasons against it. there. [A knocking.–Francis goes to the door, and
Ant. And I have in my hand many weighty rea. sons for it. Isaac, bav'n't you an argument or two
in our favour about you? Enter Porter.
Isaac. Yes, yes: here is a most unanswerable Porter. Here's one without, id pressing haste to purse. speak with Father Paul.
Paul. For shame! You make me angry : you Francis. Brother Paul !
forget who I am; and when importunate people [Paul comes from behind a curtain, with a glass have forced their trash-ay, into this pocket, here
of wine, and in his hand a piece of cake. -or into this—why, then the sin was theirs. Paul. llere ! how durst you, fellow, thus ab- [They put money into his pockets.] Fie! now how ruptly break in upon our devotions ?
you distress me! I would return it, but that I Porter. I thought they were finished.
must touch it that way, and so wrong my oath, Paul. No, they were not-were they, Brother Ant. Now then, come with us. Francis ?
Isaac. Ay, now give us your title to joy und Francis. Not by a bottle each.
rapture. Paul. But neither you nor your fellows mark Paul. Well, when your hour of repentance comes, how the hours go: no, you mind nothing but the don't blame me. gratifying of your appetites : ye eat, and swill, and Ant. No bad caution to my friend Isaac. [ Aside.) sleep, and gormandize, and thrive, while we are Well, well, father, do you do your part, and I'll wasting in mortification.
abide the consequence. Porter. We ask no more than nature craves. Isaac. Ay, and so will I. [They are going
Paul. 'Tis false! ye have more appetites than hairs ! and your flushed, sleek, and pampered ap
Enter Louisa, running. pearauce, is the disgrace of our order. Out on't ! Louisa. O Antonio! Ferdinand is at the porch, If you are hungry, can't you be content with the land inquiring for us. wholesome roots of the earth ? and if you are dry, Isaac. Who? Don Ferdinand ! He's not in isn't there the crystal spring? [Drinks.! Put this quiring for me, I hope. away [Gives the glass], and show me where I'm Ant. Fear not, my love; I'll soon pacify him. wanted. [Porter drains the glass--Paul, going, Isaac. Egad, you won't. Antonio, take my adturns.] So, you would have drunk it, if there had rice, and run away: this Ferdinand is the most been any left? Ab, glutton! glutton!
unmerciful dog! and has the cursedest long sword!
—and, upon my soul, he comes on purpose to cut SCENE VI.—T'he Court before the Priory.
Ant. Never fear, never fear.
Isaac. Well, you may stay if you will; but I'll Isaac. A plaguy while coming, this same Father get some one to marry me; for, by St. Iago, he Paul! He's detained at vespers, I suppose, poor shall nerer meet me again, while I am master of a fellow!
pair of heels.
[Runs out. Ant. No, bere le comes.
Enter FERDINAND.-(Lovisa veils.)
Ferd. So, sir, I have met with you at last.
Ant. Well, sir.
Ferd. Base, treacherous man! whence can 2 Ferd. Antonio, I am ashamed to thinkfalse, deceitful soul, like yours, borrcw confidence Ant. Not a word of excuse, Ferdinand. I have to look so steadily on the man you've injured ? not been in love myself without learning that it
Ant. Ferdinand, you are toc warm :-'tis true lover's anger should never be resented. But come you find me on the point of wedding one I love --let us retire with this good father, and we'll beyond my life; but no argument of mine pre-explain to you the cause of this error. vailed on her to elope. I scorn deceit as much as you. By heaven, I knew not she had left her
GLEE AND CHORUS. father's, till I saw her.
Ferd. What a mean excuse! You bave wronged Oft does Hymen smile to hear your friend, then, for one, whose wanton forward. Wordy vows of feign'd regard ; ness anticipated your treachery; of this, indeed, Well he knows when they're sincere, your Jew pander informed me; but let your con
Never slow to give reward ; duct be consistent, and since you have dared to do For his g'ory is to prove a wrong, follow me, and show you have a spirit to kind to those who wed for love. [Ereunt. avow it. Louisa. Antonio, I perceive his mistake. Leave
SCENE VII.- A Grand Saloon. him iu me.
Paul. Friend, you are rude, to interrupt the Enter Don JEROME, Servants, and Lorez. union of two willing hearts.
Ferd. No, meddling priest, the hand he seeks Jerome. Be sure, now, let every ibing be in the is mine.
best order. Let all my servants have on their Paul. If so, I'll proceed no further. Lady, did | merriest faces : but tell them to get as little drunk you ever promise this youth your band ?
as possible, till after supper. So, Lopez, where's [To Louisa, who shakes her head. your master? Sha'n't we have him at supper? Ferd. Clara, I thank you for your silence. I Lopes. Indeed, I believe not, sir. He's mad, I would not have beard your tongue avow such fal- doubt: I'm sure he has frighted me from him. sity ; be't your punishment to remember, I have Jerome. Ay, ay, he's after some wercb, I supDot reproached you.
pose : a young rake! Well, well, we'll be merry
without him. Enter Chara.
Enter a Servant. Clara. What mockery is this ?
Serv. Sir, here is Signior Isaac.
Jerome. So, my dear son-in-law : there, take my
blessing and forgiveness. But where's my daughter? DUET.
where's Louisa ?
Isaac. She's without, impatient for a blessing, Louisa. Turn thee round, I pray thee,
but almost afraid to enter. Calm awhile thy rage.
Jerome. Oh, fly, and bring her in. [Erit Isaac.] Clara. I must help to stay thee,
Poor girl! I long to see her pretty face.
Isaac. [Without.] Come, my charmer, my trem
bling angel ! Louisa. Couldst thou no: discover One so dear to thee?
Enter Isaac and Duenna; Don JEROME runs to Clara. Canst thou be a lover,
meet them ; she kneels. And thus fly from me ? [Both unveil.
Jerome. Come to my arms, my-[Starts back.] Ferd. How's this? my sister! Clara, too! I'm Why, who the devil have we here? confounded.
Isaac. Nay, Don Jerome, you promised her forLouisa. 'Tis even so, good brother.
giveness; see how the dar creature droops ! Paul. How! what impiety! Did the man want Jerome. Droops, indeed! Why, Gad take me, to marry bis own sister?
this is old Margaret! But where's any daughter ? Louisa. And arn't you ashamed of yourself, not where's Louisa? to know your own sister ?
Isaac. Why, bere, before your eyes: nay, don't Clara. To drive away your own mistress- be abashed, my sweet wife!
Louisa. Don't you see how jealousy blinds peo. Jerome. Wife with a vengeance! Why, zounds, ple?
you have not married the Duenna! Clara, Ay, and will you ever be jealous again? Duenna. [K'neeling.] o dear papa ! you'll not
Ferd. Never-never! You, sister, I know will disown me, sure ! forgive mebut how, Clara, sball I presume- Jerome. Papa ! papa! Why, zounds, your im.
Člara. No, no; just now you told me not to pucence is as great as your ugliness ! tease you." Who do you want, good signior ?” Isaac. Rise, my charmer : go throw your snowy “ Not you, not you.” Oh you blind wretch! But arms about bis neck, and convince him you areswear never to be jealous again, and I'll forgive Drenna. Ob, sir, forgive me! [Embraces him you.
Jerome. Help! murder! Ferd. By all
Servants. What's the matter, sir ? Clara. There, that will do-you'll keep the oath Jerome. Wby, bere, ibis damned Jew has brought just as well.
(Gives her hand. an old harridan to strangle me. Louisa. But, brother, here is one, to whom Isaoc. Lord, it is his own daughter, and he is some apology is due.
so bard-hearted, he won't forgive ber!
up, and all the time I told you she was as old as Enter ANTONIO and LOUISA; they kneel,
my mother, and as ugly as the devil. Jerome. Zounds and fury! what's here now? Duenna. Why, you little insignificant reptile ! Who sent for you, sir ? and who the devil are
Jerome. That's right--attack him, Margaret. you?
Duenna, Dares such a thing as you pretend to Ant. This lady's husband, sir.
talk of beauty? A walking rouleau !-a body that Isaac. Ay, that he is, I'll be sworn; for I left seems to owe all its consequence to the dropsy! them with the priest, and was to have given her a pair of eyes like two dead beetles in a wad of away.
brown dough !-a beard like an artichoke, with Jerome. You were ?
dry shriveled jaws that would disgrace the mummy Isaac. Ay: that's my honest friend, Antonio ; of a monkey! and that's the little girl I told you I bad hampered
Jerome. Well done, Margaret! him with.
Duenna. But you shall know that I bave a bro. Jerome. Why, you are either drunk or mad. This ther, who wears a sword, and if you don't do me is my daughter.
justiceIsaac. No, no; 'tis you are both drunk and mad, Isaac. Fire seize your brother, and you too! I'll I think: here's your daughter.
Ay to Jerusalem, to avoid you. Jerome. Hark ye, old iniquity, will you explain Duenna. Fly where you will, I'll follow you. all this, or not?
Jerome. Throw your snowy arms about him, Duenna. Come, then, Don Jerome, I will— Margaret. [Ereunt Isaac and Duenna.] Bu, though our habits might inform you all. Look on Louisa, are you really married to this modest genyour daughter, there, and on me.
tleman? Isaac. What's this I hear ?
Louisa. Sir, in obedience to your commands, I Duenna. The truth is, that in your passion this gave him my hand within this bour. morning, you made a small mistake; for you turned Jerome. My commands ! your daughter out of doors, and locked up your Ant. Yes, sir; here is your consent, under humble servant.
your own hand. Isaac. O lud! O lud! Here's a pretty fellow! Jerome. How! would you rob me of my child to turn his daughter out of doors instead of an old by a trick, a false pretence ? and do you think to Duenna.
get her fortune by the same means? Why, 'slife, Jerome. And, O lud! O lud! Here's a pretty you are as great a rogue as Isaac ! fellow, to marry an old Duenna instead of my Ant. No, Don Jerome ; though I base profited daughter ! But how came the rest about? by this paper in gaining your daughter's hand, I
Duenna. I have only to add, that I remained in scorn to obtain ber fortune by deceit. There, sir. your daughter's place, and bad the good fortune to [Gives a letter.) Now give ber your blessing for a engage the affections of my sweet husband here. dower, and all the little I possess shall be settled
Isaac. Her husband! Why, you old witch, do on her in return. Had you wedded her to a prince, you thiuk I'll be your husband now! This is a he could do no more. trick, a cheat, and you ought all to be ashamed of Jerome. Why, Gad take me, but you are a very yourselves.
extraordinary fellow! But bave you the impuAnt. Hark ye, Isaac, do you dare to complain dence to suppose no one can do a generous action of tricking? Don Jerome, I give you my word, but yourself! Here, Louisa, tell this proud fool this cunning Portuguese has brought all this upon of yours, that he's the only man I know that bimself, by endeavouring to overreach you, by would renounce your fortune ; and, by my soul, getting your daughter's fortune, without making he's the only man in Spain that's worthy of it. any settlement in return.
There, bless you both ; I'm an obstinate old felJerome. Overreach me!
low when I'm in the wrong; but you shall now Louisa. 'Tis so, indeed, sir, and we can prore find me as steady in the right.
Enter FERDINAND and Clara. Jerome. Why, Gad take me, it must be so, or be could never have put up with such a face as Mar- Another wonder still! Why, sirrah! Ferdinand garet's-so, little Solomon, I wish you joy of you bave not stole a pun, have you? your wife, with all my soul.
Ferd. She is a nun in nothing but ber habit, sir. Louisa. Isaac, tricking is all fair in love :-let --look nearer, and you will perceive, 'tis Clara you alone for the plot.
d'Almanza, Don Guzman's daughter; and, with Ant. A cunning dog, ar'n't you? A sly little pardon for stealing a wedding, she is also my wife. villain, eh?
Jerome. Gadsbud, and a great fortune. FerLouisu. Roguish, perhaps ; but keen, devilish dinand, you are a prudent young rogue, and I forkeen.
give you; and, ifecks, you're a pretty little Jerome. Yes, yes; his aunt always called him damsel. Give your father-in-law a kiss, you smillittle Solom:n.
ing rogue! Isaac. Why, the plagues of Egypt upon you Clara. There, old gentleman: and now mind all !-but do you think I'll submit to such an im- you behave well to ns. position?
Jerome. Ifecks, those lips ha'n't been chilled by Ant. Isaac, one serious word :-you'd better be kissing beads. Egad, I believe I sball grow the content as you are; for, believe me, you will find, best-humoured fellow in Spain. Lewis ! Sancho! that, in the opinion of the world, there is not a Carlos ! d'ye hear? Are all my doors thrown fairer subject for contempt and ridicule, than a open ? Our children's weddings are the only holikinave become the dupe of his own art.
days our age can boast; and then we drain, with Isaac. I don't care - I'll not endure this. Don pleasure, the little stock of spirits time has left Jerome, 'is you have done this-you would be so us. [Music within.] But see, here come our friends cursed positive about the beauty of her youl ocked and neighbours !
it to you.
Enter Masqueraders, from the back of the stage.
Let us laugh and play, so blithe and gay,
Till we banish care away. And, 'faith, we'll make a night on't, with wine,
Ant. and dance, and catches-then old and young sball
Then healths to every friend join us.
The night's repast shall eod,
With a heart at ease, merry, merry FINALE.
glees, Jerome. Come now for jest and smiling,
Can never fail to please.
Clara. Nor, wbile we are so joyous,
Shall anxious fear annoy us ;
Let us laugh and play, so blithe and gay, Louisa. Thus crown'd with dance and song,
Till we banish care away.
Jerome. For generous guests like these,
Accept the wish to please;
So we'll laugh and play, so blithe and Can never fail to please.
gay; Ferd. Each bride with blushes glowing,
Your smiles drive care away.
PI ZA R R 0.
A TRAGIC PLAY.
BY RICHARD BRINSLEY SHERIDAN,
Author of “ The School for Scandal,” &c.
Val. I am his servant, it is true-trusted by
him-and I know him well; and therefore 'tis I ATALIBA.
ask, by what magic could Pizarro gain thy heart, OROZEMBO.
by what fatality still holds he thy affection? RULLA.
Elv. Hold! Thou trusty secretary !
Val. Ignobly born! in mind and manners rude, HUASCA.
DAVILLO. ferocious, and unpolished, though cool and crafty TOPAC. .
if occasion need-in youth audacious-ill his first PIZARRO.
manhood—a licensed pirate-treating men as brutes Alonzo.
—the world as booty; yet now the Spanish hero LAS CASAS.
he is styled--the first of Spanish conquerors! and VALVERDE.
for a warrior so accomplished, 'tis fit Elvira should Priests, Virgins, Matrons, &c.
leave her noble family, her fame, her home, to share the dangers, humours, and the crimes of such a lover as Pizarro !
Elv. What! Valverde moralizing! But grant I am in error, what is thy incentive? Passion,
infatuation, call it wbat thou wilt; but what atACT I.
taches thee to this despised, unworthy leader?
Base lucre is thy object, mean fraud thy means. SCENE 1.-A Tented Field in the back-ground— Could you gain me, thou only hop'st to win a
higher interest in Pizarro-I know you. the fore-ground, a Pavilion near Pizarro's Tent.
Val. On my soul, thou wrong'st me; what else Elvira discovered reclining on a couch.- VALVERDE my faults, I have none towards ikee : but indulgy
enters, and attempts to kiss her hand.-ELVIRA the scorn and levity of thy nature ; do it while yet rises.
the time permits; the gloomy hour, I fear, too Elv. Audacious! Whence is thy privilege to ir: soon approaches.
Elv. Valverde a prophet, too! terrupt the few moments of repose my harassed
Val. Hear me, Elvira-Shame from his late de. mind can snatch amid the tumults of this noisy camp? Shall I inform thy master, Pizarro, of this feat, and burning wishes for revenge, again have
brought Pizarro to Peru; but trust me, he overpresumptuous treachery?
mates his strength, nor measures well the foe. Ensurmounted! when landed with a slender host camped in a strange country, where terror cannot upon an unknown land—then, when I told how force, nor corruption buy, a single friend, what famine and fatigue, discord and toil, day by day, have we to hope? The army murmuring at in- did thin our ranks; and close-pressing enemies, creasing hardships; while Pizarro decorates with how, still undaunted, I endured and dared-maingaudy spoil the gay pavilion of his luxury, each tained my purpose and my power, in despite of day diminishes our force.
growling mutiny or bold revolt, till, with my faithElv. But are you not the heirs of those that fall? ful few remaining, I became at last victorious :
Val. Are gain and plunder, then, our only pur- When, I say, of these things I spoke, the youth, pose? Is this Elvira's beroism?
Alonzo, with tears of wonder and delight, would Elv. No, so save me Hearen! I abhor the mo- throw him on my neck, and swear his soul's am. live, means, and end of your pursuits; but I will bition owned no other leader. trust none of you :-in your whole army there is Val. What could subdue attachment so begun. not one of you that has a heart, or speaks ingenu- Piz. Las Casas.—He it was, with fascinating ously-aged Las Casas, and he alone, excepted. craft and canting precepts of humanity, raised in
Val. He! an enthusiast in the opposite and Alonzo's mind a new enthusiasm, which forced Forst extreme !
him, as the stripling termed it, to forego his counElv. Oh! had I earlier known that virtuous man, try's claims for those of human nature. pow different might my lot have been?
Val. Yes, the traitor left thee, joined the PeruVul. I will grant Pizarro could not then so easily vians, and became thy enemy, and Spain's. have duped you! forgive me, but at that event 1 Pis. But first with weariless remonstrance be still must wonder.
sued to win me from my purpose, and untwine the E.v. Hear me, Valverde. When first my virgin sword from my determined grasp. Much he spoke fancy waked to love, Pizarro was my country's of right, of justice, and humanity, calling the Peidol. 'Tis known that when he left Panama in a ruvians our innocent and unoffending brethren. alight vessel, his force was not a hundred men. Val. They!-Obdurate heathens ! - They our Arrived at the island of Gallo, with his sword he brethren! drew a line upon the sand, and said, “Pass those Piz. But when he found that the soft folly of who fear to die or conqner with their leader.” the pleading tears he dropped upon my bosom, Thirteen alone remained, and at the head of these fell on marble, he flew and joined the foe; then, the warrior stood his ground. Even at the moment profiting by the lessons he had gained in wronged when my ears first caught this tale, my heart es. Pizarro's school, the youth so disciplined and led claimed, “ Pizarro is its lord!” What since I have bis new allies, that soon he forced me—Ha! I perceived, or thought, or felt! you must have more burn with shame and fury while I own it!-in worth to win the knowledge of.
base retreat and foul discomfiture to quit the Val. I press no further ; still assured, that while shore. Alonzo de Molina, our general's former friend and Val. But the hour of revenge is come. pupil, leads the enemy, Pizarro never more will Piz. It is: I have returned-my force is strength. be a conqueror.
[Trumpels without. ened, and the audacious boy shall soon know that Elv. Silence! I hear bim coming; look not per- Pizarro lives, and has—a grateful recollection of plexed.--How mystery and fraud confound the the thanks he owes him. countenance ? Quick, put on an honest face, if Val, 'Tis doubled whether still Alonzo lives. thou canst.
L'iz. 'Tis certain that he does; one of his arPis. (Speaking without] Chain and secure bim : mour-bearers is just made prisoner ; twelve thouI will examine him myself.
sand is their force, as he reporis, led by Alonzo
and Peruvian Rolla. This day they make a soEnter PIZARRO.
lemn sacrifice on their ungodly altars. We must Piz. [Advancing.) Why dost thou smile, El-profit by their security; and attack them unvira?
prepared--the sacrificers shall become the vicElv. To laugh or weep without a reason, is one tims. of the few privileges poor womeu bave.
Elv. [Advancing.) Wretched innocents! and Piz. Elvira, I will know the cause, I am re- their own blood shall bedew their altars ! solved.
Piz. [Trumpets without.] Elvira, retire ! Elv. I am glad of that, because I love resolution, Elv. Why should I retire? and am resolved not to tell thee. Now my reso. Pis. Because men are to meet bere, and on manly Jution, I take it, is better of the two, because it business. Jepends u; on myself, and thine does not.
Elv. O men! men ! ungrateful and perverse! O Piz. Psba! trifier!
woman! still affectionate though wronged! The l'al. Elvira wns laughing at my apprehensions beings to whose eyes you turn or animation, hope, that
and rapture, through the days of mirth and rePiz. Apprehensions !
velry, and on whose bosoms, in the hour of sore Vel. Yes-tbat Alonzo's skill and genius calamity, you seek for röst and consolation, them, should so have disciplined and informed the enemy, when the pompous follies of your mean ambition
are the question, you treat as playthings or as Piz. Alonz.! the traitor! How I once loved slaves !- I shall not retire. that man ! His noble mother intrusted him, a Piz. Remain, then-and, if thou canst, be silent. boy, to my protection [Elvira walks about pensively Elv. They only babble who practise not reflec. in the bickground.] At my table did he foast -- in tion. I shall think —and thought is silence. my tent did lie repose. I had marked his early [Goes to the couch, and sits, Valverde stands genius, and the valorous spirit that grew with it.
at her buck. Often had I talked to bim of our first adventures- Piz. Ha! - there's somewhat in her mariner what storms we struggled with what perils we lately--