Isaac. Ay, ay, the very man; and the best part of it was, he was shy of taking her at first. He talked a good deal about honour, and conscience, and deceiving some dear friend; but, Lord, we soon overruled that!

Don Ferd. You did!

Isaac. Oh, yes, presently.—Such deceit! says he.—Pish! says the lady, tricking is all fair in love. But then, my friend, says he.—Psha! damn your friend, says I. So, poor wretch, he has no chance.—No, no; he may hang himself as soon as he pleases.

Don Ferd. I must go, or I shall betray myself.

[Aside.

Isaac. But stay, Ferdinand, you han’t heard the best of the joke.

Don Ferd. Curse on your joke!

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

Don Ferd. Be racked! tortured! damned!

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. Catharine.

Don Ferd. St. Catharine!