_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_. Ef.e.c.ks, 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 t.i.tle 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 antic.i.p.ated 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 a.s.suage.

_Don. Louisa_.

Couldst thou not discover One so dear to thee?

_Don. Clara_.