No More Learning

Oh, 'twas the luckiest
thought! Donna Clara, your very obedient. Carlos, to your post.

DUET.

_Isaac_.
My mistress expects me, and I must go to her,
Or how can I hope for a smile?

_Don. Louisa_.
Soon may you return a prosperous wooer,
But think what I suffer the while.
Alone, and away from the man whom I love,
In strangers I'm forced to confide.

_Isaac_.
Dear lady, my friend you may trust, and he'll prove
Your servant, protector, and guide.

AIR.

_Don Car_.
Gentle maid, ah! why suspect me?
Let me serve thee--then reject me.
Canst thou trust, and I deceive thee?
Art thou sad, and shall I grieve thee?
Gentle maid, ah I why suspect me?
Let me serve thee--then reject me.

TRIO.

_Don. Louisa_.
Never mayst thou happy be,
If in aught thou'rt false to me.

_Isaac_.
Never may he happy be,
If in aught he's false to thee.

_Don Car_.
Never may I happy be,
If in aught I'm false to thee.

_Don. Louisa_.
Never mayst thou, &c.

_Isaac_.
Never may he, &c.

_Don Car_.
Never may I, &c. [_Exeunt_. ]




ACT II.

SCENE I. --_A Library in_ DON JEROME'S _House_.

_Enter_ DON JEROME _and_ ISAAC.


_Don Jer_. Ha! ha! ha! run away from her father! has she given him the
slip? Ha! ha! ha! poor Don Guzman!

_Isaac_. Ay; and I am to conduct her to Antonio; by which means you
see I shall hamper him so that he can give me no disturbance with your
daughter--this is a trap, isn't it? a nice stroke of cunning, hey?

_Don Jer_. Excellent! excellent I yes, yes, carry her to him, hamper
him by all means, ha! ha! ha! Poor Don Guzman! an old fool! imposed on
by a girl!

_Isaac_. Nay, they have the cunning of serpents, that's the truth
on't.

_Don Jer_. Psha! they are cunning only when they have fools to deal
with. Why don't my girl play me such a trick? Let her cunning over-
reach my caution, I say--hey, little Isaac!

_Isaac_. True, true; or let me see any of the sex make a fool of me! --
No, no, egad! little Solomon (as my aunt used to call me) understands
tricking a little too well.

_Don Jer_. Ay, but such a driveller as Don Guzman!

_Isaac_. And such a dupe as Antonio!

_Don Jer_. True; never were seen such a couple of credulous
simpletons! But come, 'tis time you should see my daughter--you must
carry on the siege by yourself, friend Isaac.

_Isaac_. Sir, you'll introduce----

_Don Jer_. No--I have sworn a solemn oath not to see or to speak to
her till she renounces her disobedience; win her to that, and she
gains a father and a husband at once.

_Isaac_. Gad, I shall never be able to deal with her alone; nothing
keeps me in such awe as perfect beauty--now there is something
consoling and encouraging in ugliness.

SONG

Give Isaac the nymph who no beauty can boast,
But health and good humour to make her his toast;
If straight, I don't mind whether slender or fat,
And six feet or four--we'll ne'er quarrel for that.

Whate'er her complexion, I vow I don't care;
If brown, it is lasting--more pleasing, if fair:
And though in her face I no dimples should see,
Let her smile--and each dell is a dimple to me.

Let her locks be the reddest that ever were seen,
And her eyes may be e'en any colour but green;
For in eyes, though so various in lustre and hue,
I swear I've no choice--only let her have two.

'Tis true I'd dispense with a throne on her back,
And white teeth, I own, are genteeler than black;
A little round chin too's a beauty, I've heard;
But I only desire she mayn't have a beard.

_Don Jer_. You will change your note, my friend, when you've seen
Louisa.

_Isaac_. Oh, Don Jerome, the honour of your alliance----

_Don Jer_. Ay, but her beauty will affect you--she is, though I say it
who am her father, a very prodigy. There you will see features with an
eye like mine--yes, i'faith, there is a kind of wicked sparkling--
sometimes of a roguish brightness, that shows her to be my own.

_Isaac_. Pretty rogue!

_Don Jer_. Then, when she smiles, you'll see a little dimple in one
cheek only; a beauty it is certainly, yet, you shall not say which is
prettiest, the cheek with the dimple, or the cheek without.

_Isaac_. Pretty rogue!

_Don Jer_. Then the roses on those cheeks are shaded with a sort of
velvet down, that gives a delicacy to the glow of health.

_Isaac_. Pretty rogue!

_Don Jer_. Her skin pure dimity, yet more fair, being spangled here
and there with a golden freckle.

_Isaac_. Charming pretty rogue! pray how is the tone of her voice?

_Don Jer_. Remarkably pleasing--but if you could prevail on her to
sing, you would be enchanted--she is a nightingale--a Virginia
nightingale! But come, come; her maid shall conduct you to her
antechamber.

_Isaac_. Well, egad, I'll pluck up resolution, and meet her frowns
intrepidly.

_Don Jer_. Ay! woo her briskly--win her, and give me a proof of your
address, my little Solomon.

_Isaac_. But hold--I expect my friend Carlos to call on me here. If he
comes, will you send him to me?

_Don Jer_. I will. Lauretta! --[_Calls_. ]--Come--she'll show you to the
room. What! do you droop? here's a mournful face to make love with!
[_Exeunt_. ]




SCENE II. --DONNA LOUISA'S _Dressing-Room_.

_Enter_ ISAAC _and_ MAID.


_Maid_. Sir, my mistress will wait on you presently.

[_Goes to the door_. ]

_Isaac_. When she's at leisure--don't hurry her. --[_Exit_ MAID. ]--I
wish I had ever practised a love-scene--I doubt I shall make a poor
figure--I couldn't be more afraid if I was going before the
Inquisition. So, the door opens--yes, she's coming--the very rustling
of her silk has a disdainful sound.


_Enter_ DUENNA _dressed_ as DONNA LOUISA.

Now dar'n't I look round, for the soul of me--her beauty will
certainly strike me dumb if I do. I wish she'd speak first.

_Duen_. Sir, I attend your pleasure.

_Isaac_. [_Aside_. ] So! the ice is broke, and a pretty civil beginning
too! --[_Aloud_. ] Hem! madam--miss--I'm all attention.

_Duen_. Nay, sir, 'tis I who should listen, and you propose.

_Isaac_. [_Aside_. ] Egad, this isn't so disdainful neither--I believe
I may venture to look. No--I dar'n't--one glance of those roguish
sparklers would fix me again.

_Duen_. You seem thoughtful, sir. Let me persuade you to sit down.

_Isaac_. [_Aside_. ] So, so; she mollifies apace--she's struck with my
figure! this attitude has had its effect.

_Duen_. Come, sir, here's a chair.

_Isaac_. Madam, the greatness of your goodness overpowers me--that a
lady so lovely should deign to turn her beauteous eyes on me so.

[_She takes his hand, he turns and sees her_. ]

_Duen_. You seem surprised at my condescension.

_Isaac_. Why, yes, madam, I am a little surprised at it. --[_Aside_. ]
Zounds! this can never be Louisa--she's as old as my mother!

_Duen_. But former prepossessions give way to my father's commands.

_Isaac_. [_Aside_. ] Her father! Yes, 'tis she then. --Lord, Lord; how
blind some parents are!

_Duen_. Signor Isaac!

_Isaac_. [_Aside_. ] Truly, the little damsel was right--she has rather
a matronly air, indeed! ah! 'tis well my affections are fixed on her
fortune, and not her person.

_Duen_. Signor, won't you sit? [_She sits_. ]

_Isaac_. Pardon me, madam, I have scarce recovered my astonishment at
your condescension, madam. --[_Aside_. ] She has the devil's own
dimples, to be sure!

_Duen_.
I do not wonder, sir, that you are surprised at my affability--
I own, signor, that I was vastly prepossessed against you, and, being
teased by my father, I did give some encouragement to Antonio; but
then, sir, you were described to me as quite a different person.

_Isaac_. Ay, and so you were to me, upon my soul, madam.

_Duen_. But when I saw you I was never more struck in my life.

_Isaac_. That was just my case, too, madam: I was struck all of a
heap, for my part.

_Duen_. Well, sir, I see our misapprehension has been mutual--you
expected to find me haughty and averse, and I was taught to believe
you a little black, snub-nosed fellow, without person, manners, or
address.

_Isaac_. [_Aside_. ] Egad, I wish she had answered her picture as well!

_Duen_. But, sir, your air is noble--something so liberal in your
carriage, with so penetrating an eye, and so bewitching a smile!

_Isaac_. [_Aside_. ] Egad, now I look at her again, I don't think she
is so ugly!

_Duen_. So little like a Jew, and so much like a gentleman!

_Isaac_. [_Aside_. ] Well, certainly, there is something pleasing in
the tone of her voice.

_Duen_. You will pardon this breach of decorum in praising you thus,
but my joy at being so agreeably deceived has given me such a flow of
spirits!

_Isaac_. Oh, dear lady, may I thank those dear lips for this
goodness? --[_Kisses her_. ] [_Aside_. ]Why she has a pretty sort of
velvet down, that's the truth on't.

_Duen_. O sir, you have the most insinuating manner, but indeed you
should get rid of that odious beard--one might as well kiss a
hedgehog.

_Isaac_. [_Aside_. ] Yes, ma'am, the razor wouldn't be amiss--for
either of us. --[_Aloud_. ] Could you favour me with a song?

_Duen_. Willingly, though I'm rather hoarse--ahem! [_Begins to sing_. ]

_Isaac_. [_Aside_. ] Very like a Virginia nightingale! --[_Aloud_. ]
Ma'am, I perceive you're hoarse--I beg you will not distress----

_Duen_. Oh, not in the least distressed. Now, sir.

SONG.

When a tender maid
Is first assay'd
By some admiring swain.
How her blushes rise
If she meet his eyes,
While he unfolds his pain!
If he takes her hand, she trembles quite!
Touch her lips, and she swoons outright!
While a pit-a-pat, &c.
Her heart avows her fright.

But in time appear
Fewer signs of fear;
The youth she boldly views:
If her hand he grasp,
Or her bosom clasp,
No mantling blush ensues!
Then to church well pleased the lovers move,
While her smiles her contentment prove;
And a pit-a-pat, &c. Her heart avows her love.

_Isaac_. Charming, ma'am! enchanting! and, truly, your notes put me in
mind of one that's very dear to me--a lady, indeed, whom you greatly
resemble!

_Duen_. How I is there, then, another so dear to you?

_Isaac_. Oh, no, ma'am, you mistake; it was my mother I meant.

_Duen_. Come, sir, I see you are amazed and confounded at my
condescension, and know not what to say.

_Isaac_. It is very true, indeed, ma'am; but it is a judgment, I look
on it as a judgment on me, for delaying to urge the time when you'll
permit me to complete my happiness, by acquainting Don Jerome with
your condescension.

_Duen_. Sir, I must frankly own to you, that I can never be yours with
my father's consent.

_Isaac_. Good lack! how so?

_Duen_. When my father, in his passion, swore he would never see me
again till I acquiesced in his will, I also made a vow, that I would
never take a husband from his hand; nothing shall make me break that
oath: but if you have spirit and contrivance enough to carry me off
without his knowledge, I'm yours.

_Isaac_. Hum!

_Duen_. Nay, sir, if you hesitate----

_Isaac_. [_Aside_. ] I'faith no bad whim this! --If I take her at her
word, I shall secure her fortune, and avoid making any settlement in
return; thus I shall not only cheat the lover, but the father too. Oh,
cunning rogue, Isaac! ay, ay, let this little brain alone! Egad, I'll
take her in the mind!

_Duen_. Well, sir, what's your determination?

_Isaac_. Madam, I was dumb only from rapture--I applaud your spirit,
and joyfully close with your proposal; for which thus let me, on this
lily hand, express my gratitude.

_Duen_. Well, sir, you must get my father's consent to walk with me in
the garden. But by no means inform him of my kindness to you.

_Isaac_. No, to be sure, that would spoil all: but, trust me when
tricking is the word--let me alone for a piece of cunning; this very
day you shall be out of his power.

_Duen_. Well, I leave the management of it all to you; I perceive
plainly, sir, that you are not one that can be easily outwitted.

_Isaac_. Egad, you're right, madam--you're right, i'faith.

_Re-enter_ MAID.

_Maid_. Here's a gentleman at the door, who begs permission to speak
with Signor Isaac.

_Isaac_. A friend of mine, ma'am, and a trusty friend--let him come
in--[_Exit_ MAID. ] He's one to be depended on, ma'am.


_Enter_ DON CARLOS.

So coz. [_Talks apart with_ DON CARLOS. ]

_Don Car_. I have left Donna Clara at your lodgings, but can nowhere
find Antonio.

_Isaac_. Well, I will search him out myself. Carlos, you rogue, I
thrive, I prosper!

_Don Car_. Where is your mistress?

_Isaac_. There, you booby, there she stands.

_Don Car_. Why, she's damned ugly!

_Isaac_. Hush! [_Stops his mouth_. ]

_Duen_. What is your friend saying, signor?

_Isaac_. Oh, ma'am, he is expressing his raptures at such charms as he
never saw before. Eh, Carlos?

_Don Car_. Ay,--such as I never saw before, indeed!

_Duen_. You are a very obliging gentleman. Well, Signor Isaac, I
believe we had better part for the present. Remember our plan.

_Isaac_. Oh, ma'am, it is written in my heart, fixed as the image of
those divine beauties. Adieu, idol of my soul! --yet once more permit
me----[_Kisses her_. ]

_Duen_. Sweet, courteous sir, adieu!

_Isaac_. Your slave eternally! Come, Carlos, say something civil at
taking leave.

_Don Car_. I'faith, Isaac, she is the hardest woman to compliment I
ever saw; however, I'll try something I had studied for the occasion.

SONG.

Ah! sure a pair was never seen
So justly form'd to meet by nature!
The youth excelling so in mien,
The maid in ev'ry grace of feature.
Oh, how happy are such lovers,
When kindred beauties each discovers;
For surely she Was made for thee,
And thou to bless this lovely creature!

So mild your looks, your children thence
Will early learn the task of duty--
The boys with all their father's sense,
The girls with all their mother's beauty!
Oh, how happy to inherit
At once such graces and such spirit!
Thus while you live
May fortune give
Each blessing equal to your merit! [_Exeunt_. ]




SCENE III. --_A Library in_ DON JEROME'S _House_.

DON JEROME _and_ DON FERDINAND _discovered_.


_Don Jer_. Object to Antonio! I have said it. His poverty, can you
acquit him of that?

_Don Ferd_. Sir, I own he is not over rich; but he is of as ancient
and honourable a family as any in the kingdom.

_Don Jer_. Yes, I know the beggars are a very ancient family in most
kingdoms; but never in great repute, boy.

_Don Ferd_. Antonio, sir, has many amiable qualities.

_Don Jer_. But he is poor; can you clear him of that, I say? Is he not
a gay, dissipated rake, who has squandered his patrimony?

_Don Ferd_. Sir, he inherited but little; and that his generosity,
more than his profuseness, has stripped him of; but he has never
sullied his honour, which, with his title, has outlived his means.

_Don Jer_. Psha! you talk like a blockhead! nobility, without an
estate, is as ridiculous as gold lace on a frieze coat.

_Don Ferd_. This language, sir, would better become a Dutch or English
trader than a Spaniard.

_Don Jer_. Yes; and those Dutch and English traders, as you call them,
are the wiser people. Why, booby, in England they were formerly as
nice, as to birth and family, as we are: but they have long discovered
what a wonderful purifier gold is; and now, no one there regards
pedigree in anything but a horse. Oh, here comes Isaac! I hope he has
prospered in his suit.

_Don Ferd_. Doubtless, that agreeable figure of his must have helped
his suit surprisingly.

_Don Jer_. How now? [DON FERDINAND _walks aside_. ]


_Enter_ ISAAC.

Well, my friend, have you softened her?

_Isaac_. Oh, yes; I have softened her.

_Don Jer_. What, does she come to?

_Isaac_. Why, truly, she was kinder than I expected to find her.

_Don Jer_. And the dear little angel was civil, eh?

_Isaac_. Yes, the pretty little angel was very civil.

_Don Jer_. I'm transported to hear it! Well, and you were astonished
at her beauty, hey?