copse of trees where Perez fell, he may expect me. Take my answer straight.
Ant. Shall I go now?
Gasp. Yes; fly to his house. Tell him from me—no, no—tell him no more than I have said already, I'll wait for your return. Haste, haste. [Exit Antonio.
A villain of no parentage!—Impostor!
A vile impostor!—He but states the truth,
Yet will I crush him, that he hath stumbled
On that truth. Yes! of no parentage!—Why—
Why is this constant pining of the heart,
As if it felt itself defrauded still
Of rights inherent? If I'm basely born
Why do I spurn the common herd of men?
The eaglet that regains its liberty,
Soars to the sun at once—it is its nature:
While meaner birds would hop from spray to spray.
Oh! would I had ne'er been born.—
To-morrow I intend to leave for ever
Her whom I love—the sacred walls I hate,
In some far distant land to die unheeded.
My Isidora has desired my presence,
And strange, admits me in the open day.
Within an hour of this she will receive me,
Then must I falter out my last adieu.
This evening also I must meet Don Felix.—
Re-enter Antonio.
So soon return'd! Hast thou then seen him?
Ant. I have, sir; I met him as I gained the door, and your message was duly delivered. He answered, that he would not fail, and that he trusted his sword would not fail either.
Gasp. Should his sword fail, I must not return for many days; should it not fail, I return no more.
But having balanced thus my brief account
Of love and hate, I'll quit fair Spain for ever. [Exit.
Ant. (taking out a purse). This purse is a heavy one, but not so heavy as the one I received from Don Felix. I hardly dared deliver the message, but there's seldom profit without danger. I will say this for my master, that he knows the salve for every wound. Let me see—one purse for my intelligence, or rather for keeping my master's secret, and another from Don Felix for betraying it—and a third for a blow. Ah! here comes Beppa. (Puts up purse hastily.)
Enter Beppa.
Bep. What's that you've put into your pocket?
Ant. Only an empty purse.
Bep. It appeared to me well filled.
Ant. Appearances are very deceitful. How is your mistress?
Bep. Alas! she has watched all night—now the tears pouring down her cheeks, whilst heavy sobs hindered all utterance, and then would she turn to rage, and pace her chamber with frantic gestures. Oh! what a wretch is this Don Gaspar!
Ant. He fights this evening.
Bep. With whom?
Ant. Don Felix—a better match for him than Perez.
Bep. They say the former's skilled in fence. Heaven grant his sword may prove the master! Where do they meet?
Ant. Nay, that's a secret.
Bep. Tell me, Antonio. Should Don Felix not prevail, a woman's vengeance yet may reach Don Gaspar. Antonio, do tell me where they meet.
Ant. It is a secret.
Bep. But I must know. There is nothing I would not give to win this secret from you. Antonio, you must tell me.
Ant. That I cannot, I made a promise. (Puts his hand to his heart.)
Bep. (scornfully). You made a promise. I know your promises too well. What will you sell this secret for?
Ant. My purse of ten moidores!
Bep. Then you shall have it. But will you tell it truly?
Ant. Honour! when I have the money.
Bep. (Takes out purse and throws it at him.) Then, there it is. I believe that you will keep a roguish contract, although no other.
Ant. You're right. They meet at sunset under the copse of trees where Perez fell.
Bep. The copse of trees where Perez fell! Does he not fear his ghost? No, he fears nothing. Breaking the hearts of women, and piercing those of men, is all the same to this fell Gaspar. Well, I have bought your secret, and will make good use of it.
Ant. Had you not known that it was a marketable commodity, you never had purchased it. You'll turn a penny, never fear. I must unto my master's lodgings. [Exit.
Bep. Yes, to follow thy old trade of pilfering. I must unto my lady, and bear her this intelligence. Thus will I rouse the woman in her, and urge her to revenge. [Exit.
Scene IV.
A Room in the Guzman Palace.
Enter Nina, ushering in Don Gaspar.
Stay here, senor. You'll not be long alone. [Exit Nina.
Gasp. Thus am I hurried, by resistless love, To follow that I never can obtain. I love thee, Isidora, dote upon thee, There's not a boiling drop within these veins I'd not pour out, could it but make thee happy. And yet I 'gainst my better reason plunge, Dragging thee with me deep into perdition. A monk, and marry! 'Tis impossible! Each time I quit her, then do I resolve Never to see her more; yet one hour's absence Kills my resolution, and each moment Seems an eternity, till in her presence Vows I repeat, that vows alone make false. 'Tis not in human nature to withstand Against such strong temptation— To fold her in my arms—inhale her breath, Kiss tears away, neither of grief nor joy, But from both fountains equally o'erflowing— Oh! 'tis a bliss indeed, to gain which Angels might leave their bright cerulean home, And barter their eternal heaven of joy.
Enter Donna Inez. Gaspar advances quickly to her, thinking it is Isidora, but finding his mistake stops abruptly, and bows to Donna Inez.
Inez. Don Gaspar—for 'tis so I hear you're styled— Hither you came in ardent expectation Of meeting one more suited to your age, My beauteous niece, the Donna Isidora. Now would I have some conference
