SCENE I.-A Library in DON JEROME'S House. Enter DON JEROME and ISAAC. Jerome. Ha ha! ha! run away from her father! has she given him the slip? Ha! ha! ha! poor Don Gusman! Isaac. Ay; and I am to conduct her to Antonio; by which means you see I shall hamper him so that he can give me no disturbance with your daughter-this is trap, isn't it? a nice stroke of cunning, hey? Jerome. Excellent! excellent! yes, yes, carry her to him, hamper him by all means, ha ha ha! poor Don Gusman! an old fool! imposed on by a girl! Isaac. Nay, they have the cunning of serpents, that's the truth on't. For in eyes, though so various the lustre and hue, I swear I've no choice-only let her have two, A little round chin too's a beauty, I've heard; Jerome. You will change your note, my friend, when you've seen Louisa. Isaac. Oh, Don Jerome, the honour of your alliance Jerome. Ay, but her beauty will affect you -she is, though I say it, who am her father, a very prodigy-there you will see features with an eye like mine-yes i'faith, there is a kind of wicked sparkling-something of a roguish brightness, that shows her to be my Jerome. Then the roses on those cheeks are shaded with a sort of velvet down, that gives a delicacy to the glow of health. Isaac. Pretty rogue! Jerome. Psha! they are cunning only when Jerome. Her skin pure dimity, yet more they have fools to deal with-why don't my fair, being spangled here and there with a girl play me such a trick-let her cunning golden freckle. overreach my caution, I say--hey, little Isaac ! Isaac. Charming pretty rogue! pray how is Isaac. True, true; or let me see any of the tone of her voice? the sex make a fool of mee-No, no, egad, Jerome, Remarkably pleasing-but if you little Solomon (as my aunt used to call me) understands tricking a little too well. Jerome. Ay, but such a driveller as Don Gusman. Isaac, And such a dupe as Antonio. could prevail on her to sing, you would be enchanted-she is a nightingale-a Virginian nightingale-hut come, come; her maid shall conduct you to her antichamber. Isaac. Well, egad, I'll pluck up resolution, Jerome. True; sure never were seen such and meet her frowns intrepidly. a couple of credulous simpletons; but come, Jerome. Ay! woo her briskly-win her, 'tis time you should see my daughter-you and give me a proof of your address, my must carry on the siege by yourself, friend little Solomon. Isaac. Isaac. Sir, you'll introduce Jerome. No-1 have sworn a solemn oath not to see or speak to her till she renounces her disobedience; win her to that, and she gains a father and a husband at once. Isaac. Gad, I shall never be able to deal with her alone; nothing keeps me in such awe as perfect beauty-now there is something consoling and encouraging in ugliness. SONG. Isaac. But hold-I expect my friend Carlos to call on me here-If he comes, will you send him to me? Jerome. I will-Lauretta, come--she'll show you to the room-what! do you droop? here's a mournful face to make love with! [Exeunt. SCENE II-LOUISA's Dressing-Room. Enter MAID and ISAAC. Maid. Sir, my mistress will wait on you Give Isaac the nymph who no beauty can presently. [Goes to the Door. boast. Isaac. When she's at leisure-don't hurry But health and good humour to make her his her. [Exit Maid] I wish I had ever practised a love scene-I doubt I shall make a poor figure-I couldn't be more afraid, if I was going before the Inquisition-so! the door opens-yes, she's coming-the very rustling of her silk has a disdainful sound. toast; If straight, I don't mind whether slender or fat, that. Whate'er her complexion-I vow I don't care; Enter DUENNA, dressed as LOUISA. Now dar'n't I look round for the soul of me her beauty will certainly strike me dumb if I do. I wish she'd speak first. Duenna. Sir, I attend your pleasure. civil beginning too. Hem! madam-miss-I'm all attention. Duenna. Nay, sir, 'tis I who should listen, and you propose. Isaac. Egad, this isn't so disdainful neither -I believe I may venture to look-no-I dar'n't-one glance of those roguish sparklers would fix me again. Duenna. You seem thoughtful, sir-let me persuade you to sit down. Isaac. So, so; she mollifies apace-she's struck with my figure! this attitude has had its effect. Isaac. O, dear lady, may I thank those dear lips for this goodness. [Kisses her] Why, she has a pretty sort of velvet down, that's the truth on't! [Aside. Duenna. O, sir, you have the most insinuating manner, but indeed you should get rid of that odious beard-one might as well kiss an. hedgehog. Isaac. Yes, ma'am, the razor wouldn't be amiss-for either of us, [Aside] Could you favour me with a song? Duenna. Willingly, sir, though I am rather hoarse-ahem! [Begins to sing. Duenna, Come, sir, here's a chair. Isaac. Very like a Virginia nightingale!— Isaac. Madam, the greatness of your good-ma'am, I perceive you're hoarse-I beg you ness overpowers me that a lady so lovely will not distress should deign to turn her beauteous eyes on Duenna. Oh, not in the least distressed;me so. [She takes his hand, he turns and now, sir, sees her. Duenna. You seem surprised at my condescension. Isaac. Why, yes, madam, I am a little surprised at it.-Zounds! this can never be Louisa -she's as old as my mother! [Aside. Duenna. But former prepossessions give way to my father's commands. Isaac. [Aside] Her father! Yes, 'tis she then-Lord, lord; bow blind some parents are! Duenna. Signior Isaac. Isnac. Truly, the little damsel was rightshe has rather a matronly air indeed! ah! 'tis well my affections are fixed on her fortune, and not her person. Duenna. Signior, won't you sit? [She sits. Isaac. Pardon me, madam, I have scarce recovered my astonishment at-your condescension, madam- she has the devil's own dimples to be sure! [Aside. Duenna. I do not wonder, sir, that you are surprised at my affability-I own, signior, that I was vastly prepossessed against you, and being teased by my father, I did give some encouragement to Antonio; but then, sir, you were described to me as a quite different person. Isaac. Ay, and so you were to me, upon my soul, madam. Duenna. But when I saw you, I was never more struck in my life. Isaac. That was just my case too, madam: I was struck all on a heap, for my part. Duenna. Well, sir, I see our misapprehen sion has been mutual-you expected to find me haughty and averse, and I was taught to believe you a little, black, snub-nosed fellow, without person, manners, or address. Isaac. Egad, I wish she had answer'd her picture as well. Duenna. But, sir, your air is noble-something so liberal in your carriage, with so penetrating an eye, and so bewitching a smile! Isaac. Egad, now I look at her again, I don't think she is so ugly. SONG. By some admiring swain, While he unfolds his pain! If he takes her hand-she trembles quite! Her heart avows her fright. Or her bosom clasp, Then to church well pleased the lovers move, And a pit-a-pat, etc. Her heart avows her love. Isaac. Charming, ma'am! enchanting! and, truly, your notes put me in mind of one that's very dear to me; a lady, indeed, whom you greatly resemble! Duenna. How! is there, then, another so dear to you? Isaac. O, no, ma'am, you mistake; it was my mother I meant. Duenna, Come, sir, I see you are amazed and confounded at my condescension, and know not what to say. Isaac. It is very true, indeed, ma'am; but it is a judgment, I look on it as a judgment on me, for delaying to urge the time when you'll permit me to complete my happiness, by acquainting Don Jerome with your coudescension. Duenna. Sir, I must frankly own to you, that I can never be yours with my father's consent. Isaac. Good lack! how so? Duenna. When my father, in his passion, swore he would never see me again till I acquiesced in his will, I also made a vow, Duenna. So little like a Jew, and so much that I would never take a husband from his like a gentleman! hand; nothing shall make me break that oath: Isaac. Well, certainly there is something but, if you have spirit and contrivance enough pleasing in the tone of her voice. to carry me off without his knowledge, I'm yours. Duenna. You will pardon this breach of decorum in praising you thus, but my joy at being so agreeably deceived has given me such a flow of spirits! Isaac. Hum! Duenna. Nay, sir, if you hestitate- her at her word, I shall secure her fortune, When kindred beauties each discovers! and avoid making any settlement in return; Fo surely she thus I shall not only cheat the lover, but the Was made for thee, father too-Oh, cunning rogue, Isaac! Ay, And thou to bless this lovely creature! ay, let this little brain alone-Egad, I'll take So mild your looks, your children thence Will early learn the task of duty her in the mind. mination? Isaac. Madam, I was dumb only from rapture-I applaud your spirit, and joyfully close At once such graces and such spirit! with your proposal; for which, thus let me, on this lily band, express my gratitude. Duenna. Well, sir, you must get my father's consent to walk with me in the garden. But by no means inform him of my kindness to you. Isaac. No, to be sure, that would spoil all: but, trust me, when tricking is the word -let me alone for a piece of cunning; this very day you shall be out of his power. Thus while you live Each blessing equal to your merit! JEROME and FERDINAND discovered. Duenna. Well, I leave the management of it all to you; I perceive plainly, sir, that he is of as ancient and honourable a family you are not one that can be easily outwitted. as any in the kingdom. Isaac. Egad, you're right, madam-you're right, i'faith. Enter MAID. Maid. Here's a gentleman at the door, who begs permission to speak with Signior Isaac. Jerome. Yes, I know the beggars are a very ancient family in most kingdoms; but never in great repute, boy. Ferd. Antonio, sir, has many amiable qua lities. Jerome. But he is poor; can you clear him of that, I say? Is he not a gay, dissipatIsaac. A friend of mine, ma'am, and a ed rake, who has squandered his patrimony? trusty friend-let him come in. [Exit Maid] He is one to be depended on, ma'am. Enter CARLOS. Ferd. Sir, he inherited but little; and that, his generosity, more than his profuseness, has stripped him of; but he has never sullied his honour, which, with his title, has outlived [Aside. his means. Ferd. This language, sir, would better become a Dutch or English trader than a Spaniard. So, coz. Carlos. I have left Donna Clara at your Jerome. Pshaw! you talk like a blockhead! lodgings-but can nowhere find Antonio. nobility, without an estate, is as ridiculous as Isaac. Well, I will search him out my-gold lace on a frize coat. self.-Carlos, you rogue, I thrive, I prosper. Carlos. Where is your mistress? Isaac. There, you booby, there she stands. Carlos. Why she's damned ugly! Jerome. Yes; and those Dutch and English Isaac. Hush! [Stops his mouth. traders, as you call them, are the wiser people. Duenna. What is your friend saying, Why, booby, in England, they were formerly signior? as nice, as to birth and family, as we are: Isaac. Oh, ma'am, ha is expressing his rap- but they have long discovered what a wontures at such charms as he never saw before; derful purifier gold is; and now, no one there eh, Carlos? regards pedigree in any thing but a horseCarlos. Ay, such as I never saw before, Ob, here comes Isaac! I hope he has prosperindeed! ed in his suit. Duenna. You are a very obliging gentleman-well, Signior Isaac, I believe we had better part for the present. Remember our plan. Isaac. Oh, ma'am, it is written in my heart, fixed as the image of those divine beauties-adieu, idol of my soul!-yet once more permit me[Kisses her. Duenna. Sweet, courteous sir, adieu! Isaac. Your slave eternally-Come, Carlos, say something civil at taking leave. Carlos. I'faith, Isaac, she is the hardest woman to compliment I ever saw; however, I'll try something I had studied for the oc casion. SONG. Ah! sure a pair was never seen Ferd. Doubtless, that agreeable figure of his must have helped his suit surprisingly. Jerome. How now? [Ferdinand walks aside. Enter ISAAC. Well, my friend, have you softened her? Jerome. And the dear little angel was civil, hey? Isaac. Yes, the pretty little angel was very civil. Jerome. I'm transported to hear it-well, and you were astonished at her beauty, bey? Isaac. I was astonished, indeed! how pray, old is miss? Jerome. How old? let me see-eight and twelve-she is twenty. Isaac. Twenty? Jerome. Ay, to a month. sult me-and, but that this roof protects him, old as I am, this sword should do me justice. Isaac. I must get off as well as I can Isaac. Then, upon my soul, she is the oldest looking girl of her age in Christendom! her fortune is not the less handsome. Jerome. Do you think so? but I believe, you will not see a prettier girl. Isaac. Here and there one. Jerome. Louisa has the family face. Isaac. Yes, egad, I should have taken it for a family face, and one that has been in the family some time too. [Aside. Jerome. She has her father's eyes. Isaac. Truly I should have guessed them to have been so-If she had her mother's DUET. Isaac. Believe me, good sir, I ne'er meant My mistress I love, and I value my friend; spectacles, I believe she would not see the Good sir, [Aside. worse. Jerome. Her aunt Ursula's nose, and her grandmother's forehead, to a hair, Isaac. Ay, 'faith, and her grandfather's chin to a hair. [Aside. Jerome. Well, if she was but as dutiful as she's handsome-and hark ye, friend Isaac, she is none of your made-up beauties-her charms are of the lasting kind. Isaac. I'faith, so they should-for if she be but twenty now, she may double her age, before her years will overtake her face. Jerome. Why, zounds, Master Isaac! you are not sneering, are you? do Isaac. Why now, seriously, Don Jerome, think you you daughter handsome? Jerome. By this light, she's as handsome a girl as any in Seville. Isaac. Then, by these eyes, I think her as plain a woman as ever I beheld. you, his Jerome. You're a knave and a sot, and this place you'd best fly. Isaac. Don Jerome, come now, let us lay aside all joking, and be serious. Jerome. How? Isaac. Ha; ha! ha! I'll be hanged if you hav'n't taken my abuse of your daughter seriously. Jerome. You meant it so, did not you? Isaac. O mercy, no! a joke-just to try how angry it would make you. Jerome. Was that all, i'faith? I didn't know you had been such a wag, ha! ha! ha! By St. Iago! you made me very angry thoughwell, and you do think Louisa handsome? Isaac. Handsome! Venus de Medicis was a sybil to her. Jerome. Give me your hand, you little jocose rogue-Egad, I thought we had been all off. Jerome. By St. Iago, you must be blind. Isaac. No, no; 'tis you are partial. Jerome. How! have I neither sense nor Ferd. So! I was in hopes this would have taste? If a fair skin, fine eyes, teeth of ivory, been a quarrel, but I find the Jew is too with a lovely bloom, and a delicate shape-cunning. if these, with a heavenly voice, and a world Jerome. Ay, this gust of passion has made of grace, are not charms, I know not what me dry-I am seldom ruffled-order some wine you call beautiful. in the next room--let us drink the poor girl's health-poor Louisa! ugly, hey! Ha! ha! ha! Twas a very good joke, indeed! Isaac. Good lack, with what eyes a father sees! As I have life, she is the very reverse of all this: as for the dimity skin you told me of, I swear, 'tis a thorough nankeen as ever I saw for her eyes, their utmost merit is not squinting-for her teeth, where there is one of ivory, its neighbour is pure ebony, black and white alternately, just like the keys of an harpsichord. Then, as to her singing, and heavenly voice-by this hand, she has a shrill, cracked pipe, that sounds, for all the world, like a child's trumpet. Jerome. Why, you little Hebrew scoundrel, do you mean to insult me? out of my house, I say! Ferd. Dear sir, what's the matter? Jerome. Why, this Israelite here has the impudence to say your sister's ugly. Ferd. He must be either blind or insolent. Isaac. So, I find they are all in a story. Egad, I believe I have gone too far! Isaac. And a very true one, for all that. Jerome. And, Ferdinand, I insist upon your drinking success to my friend. Ferd. Sir, I will drink success to my friend, with all my heart. Jerome. Come, little Solomon, if any sparks of anger had remained, this would be the only way to quench them. TRIO. A bumper of good liquor So fill a cheerful glass, [Exeunt. SCENE IV.-IsAAc's Lodgings. Enter LOUISA. Ferd. Sure, sir, there must be some mistake; it can't be my sister whom he has seen. Jerome. 'Sdeath! you are as great a fool as he! what mistake can there be? did not I lock up Louisa, and hav'n't I the key in my Louisa. Was ever truant daughter so whimown pocket? and didn't her maid show him sically circumstanced as I am! I have sent into the dressing-room? and yet you talk of my intended husband to look after my lover a mistake: no, the Portuguese meant to in--the man of my father's choice is gone to bring me the man of my own-but how di-but you. Here's ado to persuade you to take spiriting is this interval of expectation! Enter CARLos. So, friend, is Antonio found? Carlos. I could not meet with him, lady; but I doubt not my friend Isaac will be here with him presently. a pretty girl that's dying for you! Ant. But I have no affection for this lady. Isaac. And you have for Louisa, hey? but take my word for it, Antonio, you have no chance there so you may as well secure the good that offers itself to you. Ant. And could you reconcile it to your conscience, to supplant your friend? Isaac. Pish! Conscience has no more to do with gallantry, than it has with politicswhy, you are no honest fellow, if love can't make a rogue of you-so come, do go in, and speak to her at last. Ant. Well, I have no objection to that. Isaac. [Opens the Door] There—there she is-yonder by the window- get in, do Pushes him in, and half shuts the Door] -now, Carlos, now I shall hamper him, Louisa. Oh, shame! you have used no di-warrant-stay, I'll peep how they go onligence-1 this your courtesy to a lady, who has trusted herself to your protection? Carlos. Indeed, madam, I have not been remiss. Louisa. Well, well; but if either of you had known how each moment of delay weighs upon the heart of her who loves, and waits the object of her love, oh, ye would not then have trifled thus! Carlos. Alas, I know it well! Louisa. Were you ever in love then? Carlos. I was, lady; but while I have life, will never be again. Louisa. Was your mistress so cruel? Carlos. If she had always been so, I should have been happier. SONG. O had my love ne'er smiled on me, Not worse his fate, who on a wreck, Then land was cried-no more resign'd, Louisa. As I live, here is your friend com- Enter ISAAC and ANTONIO. Ant. Indeed, my good friend, you must be mistaken. Clara D'Almanza in love with me, and employ you to bring me to meet her! It is impossible! Isaac. That you shall see in an instantCarlos, where is the lady? [Carlos points to the Door] In the next room, is she? egad, he looks confoundedly posed-now she's coaxing him-see, Carlos, he begins to come to-ay, ay, ke'll soon forget his conscience. Carlos. Look-now they are both laughing! Isaac. Ay, so they are-yes, yes, they are laughing at that dear friend he talked of-ay, poor devil, they have outwitted him. Carlos. Now he's kissing her hand. Isaac. Yes, yes, 'faith, they're agreed-he's caught, he's entangled-my dear Carlos, we have brought it about. Oh, this little cunning head! I'm a Machiavel-a very Machiavel. Carlos. I hear somebody inquiring for you -I'll see who it is. [Exit Carlos. Enter ANTONIO and LOUISA. Ant. Well, my good friend, this lady has so entirely convinced me of the certainty of your success at Don Jerome's, that I now resign my pretensions there. Isaac. You never did a wiser thing, believe me-and as for deceiving your friend, that's nothing at all-tricking is all fair in love, isn't it, ma'am? Louisa. Certainly, sir; and I am particularly glad to find you are of that opinion. Isaac. O lud! yes, ma'am-let any one outwit me, that can, I say-but here, let me join your hands-there, you lucky rogue! I wish you happily married, from the bottom of my soul! Louisa. And I am sure if you wish it, no one else should prevent it. Isaac. Now, Antonio, we are rivals no more; so let us be friends, will you? Ant. With all my heart, Isaac. Isaac. It is not every man, let me tell you, that would have taken such pains, or been so generous to a rival. Ant. No, 'faith; I don't believe there's another beside yourself in all Spain. Isaac. Well, but you resign all pretensions to the other lady? Ant. That I do, most sincerely. Isaac I doubt you have a little hankering there still. Ant. None in the last, upon my soul. Ant. Nay, if that lady is really here, she certainly wants me to conduct her to a dear friend of mine, who has long been her lover. Isaac. Pshaw! I tell you 'tis no such thing Isaac. Well, i'faith, you have the best of you are the man she wants, and nobody the bargain, as to beauty, twenty to one |