No More Learning

And by those lips that spoke so kind,
And by that hand I've press'd to mine,
To be the lord of wealth and power,
By heavens, I would not part with thine!

Then how, my soul, can we be poor,
Who own what kingdoms could not buy?
Of this true heart thou shalt be queen,
In serving thee, a monarch I.
Thus uncontroll'd, in mutual bliss,
I rich in love's exhaustless mine,
Do thou snatch treasures from my lips,
And I'll take kingdoms back from thine!


_Enter_ MAID _with a letter_.

_Don. Louisa_. My father's answer, I suppose.

_Don Ant_. My dearest Louisa, you may be assured that it contains
nothing but threats and reproaches.

_Don. Louisa_. Let us see, however. --[Reads. ] _Dearest daughter, make
your lover happy: you have my full consent to marry as your whim has
chosen, but be sure come home and sup with your affectionate father_.

_Don Ant_. You jest, Louisa!

_Don. Louisa_. [_Gives him the letter_. . ] Read! read!

_Don Ant_. 'Tis so, by heavens! Sure there must be some mistake; but
that's none of our business. --Now, Louisa, you have no excuse for
delay.

_Don. Louisa_. Shall we not then return and thank my father?

_Don Ant_. But first let the priest put it out of his power to recall
his word. --I'll fly to procure one.

_Don. Louisa_. Nay, if you part with me again, perhaps you may lose
me.

_Don Ant_. Come, then--there is a friar of a neighbouring convent is
my friend; you have already been diverted by the manners of a nunnery;
let us see whether there is less hypocrisy among the holy fathers.

_Don. Louisa_. I'm afraid not, Antonio--for in religion, as in
friendship, they who profess most are the least sincere. [_Exeunt_. ]


_Re-enter_ DONNA CLARA.

_Don. Clara_, So, yonder they go, as happy as a mutual and confessed
affection can make them, while I am left in solitude. Heigho! love may
perhaps excuse the rashness of an elopement from one's friend, but I
am sure nothing but the presence of the man we love can support it.
Ha! what do I see! Ferdinand, as I live! How could he gain admission?
By potent gold, I suppose, as Antonio did. How eager and disturbed he
seems! He shall not know me as yet. [_Lets down her veil_. ]


_Enter_ DON FERDINAND.

_Don Ferd_. Yes, those were certainly they--my information was right.
[_Going_. ]

_Don. Clara_. [_Stops him_. ] Pray, signor, what is your business here?

_Don Ferd_. No matter--no matter! Oh! they stop. --[_Looks out_. ] Yes,
that is the perfidious Clara indeed!

_Don. Clara_. So, a jealous error--I'm glad to see him so moved.
[_Aside_. ]

_Don Ferd_. Her disguise can't conceal her--no, no, I know her too
well.

_Don. Clara_. [_Aside_. ] Wonderful discernment! --[_Aloud_. ] But,
signor----

_Don Ferd_. Be quiet, good nun; don't tease me! --By heavens, she leans
upon his arm, hangs fondly on it! O woman, woman!

_Don. Clar_. But, signor, who is it you want?

_Don Ferd_. Not you, not you, so prythee don't tease me. Yet pray
stay--gentle nun, was it not Donna Clara d'Almanza just parted from
you?

_Don. Clara_. Clara d'Almanza, signor, is not yet out of the garden.

_Don Ferd_. Ay, ay, I knew I was right! And pray is not that
gentleman, now at the porch with her, Antonio d'Ercilla?

_Don. Clara_. It is indeed, signor.

_Don Ferd_. So, so; but now one question more--can you inform me for
what purpose they have gone away?

_Don. Clara_. They are gone to be married, I believe.

_Don Ferd_. Very well--enough. Now if I don't mar their wedding!
[_Exit_. ]

_Don. Clara_. [_Unveils_. ] I thought jealousy had made lovers quick-
sighted, but it has made mine blind. Louisa's story accounts to me for
this error, and I am glad to find I have power enough over him to make
him so unhappy. But why should not I be present at his surprise when
undeceived? When he's through the porch, I'll follow him; and,
perhaps, Louisa shall not singly be a bride.

SONG.

Adieu, thou dreary pile, where never dies
The sullen echo of repentant sighs!
Ye sister mourners of each lonely cell
Inured to hymns and sorrow, fare ye well!
For happier scenes I fly this darksome grove,
To saints a prison, but a tomb to love! [_Exit_. ]




SCENE IV. --_A Court before the Priory_.

_Enter_ ISAAC, _crossing the stage_, DON ANTONIO _following_.


_Don Ant_. What, my friend Isaac!

_Isaac_. What, Antonio! wish me joy! I have Louisa safe.

_Don Ant_. Have you? I wish you joy with all my soul.

_Isaac_. Yes, I come here to procure a priest to marry us.

_Don Ant_. So, then, we are both on the same errand; I am come to look
for Father Paul.

_Isaac_. Ha! I'm glad on't--but, i'faith, he must tack me first; my
love is waiting.

_Don Ant_. So is mine--I left her in the porch.

_Isaac_. Ay, but I'm in haste to go back to Don Jerome.

_Don Ant_. And so am I too.

_Isaac_. Well, perhaps he'll save time, and marry us both together--or
I'll be your father, and you shall be mine. Come along--but you are
obliged to me for all this.

_Don Ant_. Yes, yes. [_Exeunt_. ]




SCENE V. --_A Room in the Priory_.

FATHER PAUL, FATHER FRANCIS, FATHER AUGUSTINE, _and other_ FRIARS,
_discovered at a table drinking_.


GLEE AND CHORUS.

This bottle's the sun of our table,
His beams are rosy wine
We, planets, that are not able
Without his help to shine.
Let mirth and glee abound!
You'll soon grow bright
With borrow'd light,
And shine as he goes round.

_Paul_. Brother Francis, toss the bottle about, and give me your
toast.

_Fran_. Have we drunk the Abbess of St. Ursuline?

_Paul_. Yes, yes; she was the last.

_Fran_. Then I'll give you the blue-eyed nun of St. Catherine's.

_Paul_. With all my heart. --[_Drinks_. ] Pray, brother Augustine, were
there any benefactions left in my absence?

_Aug_. Don Juan Corduba has left a hundred ducats, to remember him in
our masses.

_Paul_. Has he? let them be paid to our wine-merchant, and we'll
remember him in our cups, which will do just as well. Anything more?

_Aug_. Yes; Baptista, the rich miser, who died last week, has
bequeathed us a thousand pistoles, and the silver lamp he used in his
own chamber, to burn before the image of St. Anthony.

_Paul_. 'Twas well meant, but we'll employ his money better--
Baptista's bounty shall light the living, not the dead. St. Anthony is
not afraid to be left in the dark, though he was. --[_Knocking_. ] See
who's there.

[FATHER FRANCIS _goes to the door and opens it_. ]


_Enter_ PORTER.

_Port_. Here's one without, in pressing haste to speak with Father
Paul.

_Fran_. Brother Paul!

[FATHER PAUL _comes from behind a curtain with a glass of wine, and in
his hand a piece of cake_. ]

_Paul_. Here! how durst you, fellow, thus abruptly break in upon our
devotions?

_Port_. I thought they were finished.

_Paul_.
No, they were not--were they, brother Francis?

_Fran_. Not by a bottle each.

_Paul_. But neither you nor your fellows mark how the hours go; no,
you mind nothing but the gratifying of your appetites; ye eat, and
swill, and sleep, and gourmandise, and thrive, while we are wasting in
mortification.

_Port_. We ask no more than nature craves.

_Paul_. 'Tis false, ye have more appetites than hairs! and your
flushed, sleek, and pampered appearance is the disgrace of our order--
out on't! If you are hungry, can't you be content with the wholesome
roots of the earth? and if you are dry, isn't there the crystal
spring? --[_Drinks_. ] Put this away,--[_Gives the glass_] and show me
where I am wanted. --[PORTER _drains the glass_. --PAUL, _going,
turns_. ] So you would have drunk it if there had been any left! Ah,
glutton! glutton! [_Exeunt_. ]




SCENE VI. --_The Court before the Priory_.

_Enter_ ISAAC _and_ DON ANTONIO.


_Isaac_. A plaguey while coming, this same father Paul. --He's detained
at vespers, I suppose, poor fellow.

_Don Ant_. No, here he comes.

_Enter_ FATHER PAUL.

Good father Paul, I crave your blessing.

_Isaac_. Yes, good father Paul, we are come to beg a favour.

_Paul_. What is it, pray?

_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_. Efecks, 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 title 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 anticipated 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 assuage.

_Don. Louisa_.
Couldst thou not discover
One so dear to thee?

_Don. Clara_.
Canst thou be a lover,
And thus fly from me? [_Both unveil_. ]

_Don Ferd_. How's this? My sister! Clara, too--I'm confounded.

_Don. Louisa_. 'Tis even so, good brother.

_Paul_. How! what impiety? did the man want to marry his own sister?

_Don. Louisa_. And ar'n't you ashamed of yourself not to know your own
sister?

_Don. Clara_. To drive away your own mistress----

_Don. Louisa_. Don't you see how jealousy blinds people?

_Don. Clara_. Ay, and will you ever be jealous again?

_Don Ferd_. Never--never! --You, sister, I know will forgive me--but
how, Clara, shall I presume----

_Don. Clara_. No, no; just now you told me not to tease you--"Who do
you want, good signor? " "Not you, not you! " Oh you blind wretch! but
swear never to be jealous again, and I'll forgive you.

_Don Ferd_. By all----

_Don. Clara_. There, that will do--you'll keep the oath just as well.
[_Gives her hand_. ]

_Don. Louisa_. But, brother, here is one to whom some apology is due.

_Don Ferd_. Antonio, I am ashamed to think----

_Don Ant_. Not a word of excuse, Ferdinand--I have not been in love
myself without learning that a lover's anger should never be resented.
But come--let us retire, with this good father, and we'll explain to
you the cause of this error.

GLEE AND CHORUS.

Oft does Hymen smile to hear
Wordy vows of feign'd regard;
Well, he knows when they're sincere,
Never slow to give reward
For his glory is to prove
Kind to those who wed for love. [_Exeunt_.