Isa. Ha! to-morrow!

Lop. He writes me word, that his estate in Holland is worth twelve thousand crowns a year; which, together with what he had before, will make thee the happiest wife in Lisbon.

Isa. And the most unhappy woman in the world. Oh, sir! if I have any power in your heart, if the tenderness of a father be not quite extinct, hear me with patience.

Lop. No objection against the marriage, and I will hear whatsoever thou hast to say.

Isa. That's torturing me on the rack, and forbidding me to groan; upon my knees I claim the privilege of flesh and blood. [Kneels. Lop. I grant it, thou shalt have an arm full of flesh and blood to-morrow. Flesh and blood, quotha! heaven forbid I should deny thee flesh and blood, my girl. Inis. Here's an old dog for you. [Aside. Isa. Do not mistake, sir; the fatal stroke which separates soul and body, is not more terrible to the thoughts of sinners, than the name of Guzman to my ear.

Lop. Puh, puh; you lie, you lie.

Isa. My frighted heart beats hard against my breast, as if it sought a passage to your feet, to beg you'd change your purpose.

Lop. A very pretty speech this; if it were turned into blank verse, it would serve for a tragedy. Why, thou hast more wit than I thought thou hadst, child.

-I fancy this was all extempore; I don't believe thou didst ever think one word on't before.

Inis. Yes, but she has, my lord; for I have heard her say the same things a thousand times.

Lop. How, how? What, do you top your secondhand jests upon your father, hussy, who knows better what's good for you than you do yourself? Remember, 'tis your duty to obey.

Isa. [Rises] I never disobey'd before, and wish I had not reason now; but nature has got the better of my duty, and makes me loathe the harsh commands you lay. Lop. Ha, ha! very fine! Ha, ha!

Isa. Death itself would be welcome.
Lop. Are you sure of that?

Isa. I am your daughter, my lord, and can boast as strong a resolution as yourself; I'll die before I'll marry Guzman.

Lop. Say you so? I'll try that presently. [Draws] Here, let me see with what dexterity you can breathe a vein now. [Offers her his Sword] The point is pretty sharp; 'twill do your business, I warrant you.

Inis. Bless me, sir, what do you mean to put a sword into the hands of a desperate woman?

Lop. Desperate! ha, ha, ha! you see how desperate she is. What, art thou frighted, little Bell? ha! Isa. I confess I am startled at your morals, sir.

Lop. Ay, ay, child, thou hadst better take the man, he'll hurt thee the least of the two.

Isa. Ishall take neither, sir; death has many doors, and when I can live no longer with pleasure, I shall find one to let him in at without your aid.

Lop. Say'st thou so, my dear Bell? Ods, I'm afraid thou art a little lunatic, Bell. I must take care of thee, child. [Takes hold of her, and pulls a Key out of his Pocket] I shall inake bold to secure thee, my dear. I'll see if locks and bars can keep thee till Guzman comes. Go, get into your chamber.

[Pushes her in, and locks the Door, There I'll your boasted resolution try, And see who'll get the better, you or I.

[Exeunt.

SCENE I. A Room in DON PEDRO'S House. Enter VIOLANTE, reading a Letter, and FLORA following.

Flora. What, must that letter be read again?

Vio. Yes, and again, and again, and again, a thousand times again; letter from a faithful lover can never be read too often: it speaks such kind, such soft, such tender things[Kisses it.

Flora. But always the same language.

Vio. It does not charm the less for that. Flora. In my opinion nothing charms that does not change; and any composition of the four-and-twenty letters, after the first essay, from the same hand, must be dull, except a bank note, or a bill of exchange.

Vio. Thy taste is my aversion-[Reads] My all that's charming, since life's not life exiled from thee, this night shall bring me to thy arms. Frederic and thee are all I trust. These six weeks absence have been, in love's accompt, six hundred years. When it is dark, expect the wonted signal at thy window; till when, adicu. Thine, more than his own.

FELIX.

Flora. Who would not have said as much to a lady of her beauty, and twenty thousand pounds? [Aside] -Were I a man, methinks, I could have said a hundred finer things.

Vio. What would you have said?

Flora. I would have compared your eyes to the stars, your teeth to ivory, your lips to coral, your neck to alabaster, your shape to

Vio. No more of your bombast; truth is the best eloquence in a lover. What proof remains ungiven of his love? When his father threaten'd to disinherit him for refusing don Antonia's sister, from whence sprung this unhappy quarrel, did it shake his love for me? And now, though strict inquiry runs through every place, with large rewards to apprehend him, does he not venture all for me?

Flora. But you know, madam, your father, don Pedro, designs you for a nun-to be sure you look very like a nun-and says your grandfather left you your fortune upon that condition.

Vio. Not without my approbation, girl, when I come to one-and-twenty, as I am informed. But, however, I shall run the risk of that. Go, call in Lissardo Flora. Yes, madam. Now for a thousand verbal questions. [Aside, and exit.

Re-enter FLORA, with LISSARDO. Vio. Well, and how do you do, Lissardo? Lis. Ah, very weary, madam-Faith, thou look'st wondrous pretty, Flora. [Apart to Flora.

Vio. How came you?

Lis. En chevalier, madam, upon a hackney jade, which they told me formerly belonged to an English colonel. But I should have rather thought she had been bred a good Roman Catholic all her life-time; for she down'd on her knees to every stock and stone we came along by.My chops water for a kiss, they do, Flora. [Apart to Flora.

Flora. You'd make one believe you are wondrous fond now. [Apart to Lissardo.

Vio. Where did you leave your master?

Lis. Odd, if I had you alone, housewife, I'd show you how fond I could be[Apart to Flora. Vio. Where did you leave your master?

Lis. At a little farm-house, madam, about five miles off. He'll be at don Frederic's in the eveningOdd, I will so revenge myself of those lips of thine.

[Apart to Flora.

Vio. Is be in health?
Flora. Oh, you counterfeit wondrous well.

[Apart to Lissardo.

Lis. No, every body knows I counterfeit very ill.

[Apart to Flora. Vio. How say you? Is Felix ill? What's his distemper? Ha!

Lis. A pies on't, I hate to be interrupted. [Aside]Love, madam, love-In short, madam, I believe he has thought of nothing but your ladyship ever since he left Lisbon. I am sure he could not, if I may judge of his heart by my own. [Looks lovingly upon Flora. Vio. How came you so well acquainted with your master's thoughts, Lissardo?

Lis. By an infallible rule, madam, words are the pictures of the mind, you know; now, to prove he thinks of nothing but you, he talks of nothing but you

-for example, madam: coming from shooting t'other day, with a brace of partridges, "Lissardo," said he, "f go bid the cook roast me these Violantes"I flew into the kitchen, full of thoughts of thee, and cried, "Here, roast me these Florellas." [To Flora Flora. Ha, ha! excellent- -You mimic your master then, it seems. [To Lissardo. Lis. I can do every thing as well as my master, you little rogue [To Flora]- -Another time, madam, the priest came to make him a visit, he call'd out hastily, "Lissardo," said he, "bring a Violante for my father to sit down on."- Then he often mistook my name, madam, and called me Violante; in short, I heard it so often, that it became as familiar to me as my prayers. Vio. You live very merrily then, it seems.