Act 3 — SCENE I.—A Library in DON JEROME'S House.
Reading edition
Enter_ DON JEROME and SERVANT.
Don Jer. Why, I never was so amazed in my life! Louisa gone off with Isaac Mendoza! What! steal away with the very man whom I wanted her to marry—elope with her own husband, as it were—it is impossible!
Ser. Her maid says, sir, they had your leave to walk in the garden, while you were abroad. The door by the shrubbery was found open, and they have not been heard of since. [Exit.]
Don Jer. Well, it is the most unaccountable affair! 'sdeath! there is certainly some infernal mystery in it I can't comprehend!
Enter SECOND SERVANT, with a letter.
Ser. Here is a letter, sir, from Signor Isaac. [Exit.]
Don Jer. So, so, this will explain—ay, Isaac Mendoza—let me see— [Reads.]
_Dearest Sir,
You must, doubtless, be much surprised at my flight with your daughter!_—yes, 'faith, and well I may—I had the happiness to gain her heart at our first interview—The devil you had!—But, she having unfortunately made a vow not to receive a husband from your hands, I was obliged to comply with her whim!—So, so!—We shall shortly throw ourselves at your feet, and I hope you will have a blessing ready for one, who will then be your son-in-law. ISAAC MENDOZA.
A whim, hey? Why, the devil's in the girl, I think! This morning, she would die sooner than have him, and before evening she runs away with him! Well, well, my will's accomplished—let the motive be what it will—and the Portuguese, sure, will never deny to fulfil the rest of the article.
Re-enter SERVANT, with another letter.
Ser. Sir, here's a man below, who says he brought this from my young lady, Donna Louisa. [Exit.]
Don Jer. How! yes, it's my daughter's hand, indeed! Lord, there was no occasion for them both to write; well, let's see what she says— [Reads.]
_My dearest father,
How shall I entreat your pardon for the rash step I have taken—how confess the motive?_—Pish! hasn't Isaac just told me the motive?—one would think they weren't together when they wrote.—If I have a spirit too resentful of ill usage, I have also a heart as easily affected by kindness.—So, so, here the whole matter comes out; her resentment for Antonio's ill usage has made her sensible of Isaac's kindness—yes, yes, it is all plain enough. Well. I am not married yet, though with a man who, I am convinced, adores me.—Yes, yes, I dare say Isaac is very fond of her. But I shall anxiously expect your answer, in which, should I be so fortunate as to receive your consent, you will make completely happy your ever affectionate daughter, LOUISA.
My consent! to be sure she shall have it! Egad, I was never better pleased—I have fulfilled my resolution—I knew I should. Oh, there's nothing like obstinacy! Lewis! [Calls.]
Re-enter SERVANT.
Let the man who brought the last letter, wait; and get me a pen and ink below.—[Exit SERVANT.] I am impatient to set poor Louisa's heart at rest. [Calls.]Holloa! Lewis! Sancho!
Enter SERVANTS.
See that there be a noble supper provided in the saloon to-night; serve up my best wines, and let me have music, d'ye hear?
Ser. Yes, sir.
Don Jer. And order all my doors to be thrown open; admit all guests, with masks or without masks.—[Exeunt SERVANTS.] I'faith, we'll have a night of it! and I'll let them see how merry an old man can be.
SONG.
Oh, the days when I was young. When I laugh'd in fortune's spite; Talk'd of love the whole day long, And with nectar crown'd the night! Then it was, old Father Care, Little reck'd I of thy frown; Half thy malice youth could bear, And the rest a bumper drown.
Truth, they say, lies in a well, Why, I vow I ne'er could see; Let the water-drinkers tell, There it always lay for me. For when sparkling wine went round, Never saw I falsehood's mask; But still honest truth I found In the bottom of each flask.
True, at length my vigour's flown, I have years to bring decay; Few the locks that now I own, And the few I have are grey. Yet, old Jerome, thou mayst boast, While thy spirits do not tire; Still beneath thy age's frost Glows a spark of youthful fire. [Exit.]