Don. 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!

Don Car. Alas, I know it well!

Don. Louisa. Were you ever in love, then?

Don Car. I was, lady; but, while I have life, I will never be again.

Don. Louisa. Was your mistress so cruel?

Don Car. If she had always been so, I should have been happier.

Song.

Oh, had my love ne’er smiled on me,
    I ne’er had known such anguish;
But think how false, how cruel she,
    To bid me cease to languish;
To bid me hope her hand to gain,
    Breathe on a flame half perish’d;
And then with cold and fixed disdain,
    To kill the hope she cherish’d.

Not worse his fate, who on a wreck,
    That drove as winds did blow it,
Silent had left the shatter’d deck,
    To find a grave below it.
Then land was cried—no more resign’d,
    He glow’d with joy to hear it;
Not worse his fate, his woe, to find
    The wreck must sink ere near it!

Don. Louisa. As I live, here is your friend coming with Antonio! I’ll retire for a moment to surprise him.

[Exit.

Enter Isaac and Don Antonio.

Don 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 instant. Carlos, where is the lady?—[Don Carlos points to the door.] In the next room, is she?

Don 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. Psha! I tell you ’tis no such thing—you are the man she wants, and nobody but you. Here’s ado to persuade you to take a pretty girl that’s dying for you!

Don 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.

Don 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 politics. Why, you are no honest fellow if love can’t make a rogue of you; so come—do go in and speak to her, at least.

Don 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, I warrant! Stay, I’ll peep how they go on. Egad, he looks confoundedly posed! Now she’s coaxing him. See, Carlos, he begins to come to—ay, ay, he’ll soon forget his conscience.

Don Car. Look—now they are both laughing!