_Isaac_. Good lack! what's the matter now? I thought to have diverted you.

_Don Ferd_. Be racked! tortured! d.a.m.ned!

_Isaac_. Why, sure you are not the poor devil of a lover, are you?-- I'faith, as sure as can be, he is! This is a better joke than t'other.

Ha! ha! ha!

_Don Ferd_. What! do you laugh? you vile, mischievous varlet!-- [_Collars him_.] But that you're beneath my anger, I'd tear your heart out! [_Throws him from him_.]

_Isaac_. O mercy! here's usage for a brother-in-law!

_Don Ferd_. But, hark ye, rascal! tell me directly where these false friends are gone, or, by my soul----[_Draws_.]

_Isaac_. For Heaven's sake, now, my dear brother-in-law, don't be in a rage! I'll recollect as well as I can.

_Don Ferd_. Be quick, then!

_Isaac_. I will, I will!--but people's memories differ; some have a treacherous memory: now mine is a cowardly memory--it takes to its heels at sight of a drawn sword--it does i'faith; and I could as soon fight as recollect.

_Don Ferd_. Zounds! tell me the truth, and I won't hurt you.

_Isaac_. No, no, I know you won't, my dear brother-in-law; but that ill-looking thing there----

_Don Ferd_. What, then, you won't tell me?

_Isaac_. Yes, yes, I will; I'll tell you all, upon my soul!--but why need you listen, sword in hand?

_Don Ferd_. Why, there.--[_Puts up_.] Now.

_Isaac_. Why, then, I believe they are gone to--that is, my friend Carlos told me he had left Donna Clara--dear Ferdinand, keep your hands off--at the convent of St. Catherine.

_Don Ferd_. St. Catherine!

_Isaac_. Yes; and that Antonio was to come to her there.

_Don Ferd_. Is this the truth?

_Isaac_. It is indeed; and all I know, as I hope for life!

_Don Ferd_. Well, coward, take your life; 'tis that false, dishonourable Antonio, who shall feel my vengeance.

_Isaac_. Ay, ay, kill him; cut his throat, and welcome.

_Don Ferd_. But, for Clara! infamy on her! she is not worth my resentment.

_Isaac_. No more she is, my dear brother-in-law. I'faith I would not be angry about her; she is not worth it, indeed.

_Don Ferd_. 'Tis false! she is worth the enmity of princes!

_Isaac_. True, true, so she is; and I pity you exceedingly for having lost her.

_Don Ferd_. 'Sdeath, you rascal! how durst you talk of pitying me?

_Isaac_. Oh, dear brother-in-law, I beg pardon! I don't pity you in the least, upon my soul!

_Don Ferd_. Get hence, fool, and provoke me no further; nothing but your insignificance saves you!

_Isaac. [Aside_.] I'faith, then, my insignificance is the best friend I have.--[_Aloud_.] I'm going, dear Ferdinand.--[_Aside_.] What a curst hot hot-headed bully it is! [_Exeunt severally_.]

SCENE III.--_The Garden of the Convent_.

_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.