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_.]
SCENE II.--_The New Piazza_.
_Enter_ DON FERDINAND _and_ LOPEZ.
_Don Ferd_. What, could you gather no tidings of her? nor guess where
she was gone? O Clara! Clara!
_Lop_. In truth, sir, I could not. That she was run away from her
father, was in everybody's mouth; and that Don Guzman was in pursuit
of her, was also a very common report. Where she was gone, or what was
become of her, no one could take upon them to say.
_Don Ferd_. 'Sdeath and fury, you blockhead! she can't be out of
Seville.
_Lop_. So I said to myself, sir. 'Sdeath and fury, you blockhead, says
I, she can't be out of Seville. Then some said, she had hanged herself
for love; and others have it, Don Antonio had carried her off.
_Don Ferd_. 'Tis false, scoundrel! no one said that.
_Lop_. Then I misunderstood them, sir.
_Don Ferd_. Go, fool, get home! and never let me see you again till
you bring me news of her.--[_Exit_ LOPEZ.] Oh, how my fondness for
this ungrateful girl has hurt my disposition.
_Enter_ ISAAC.
_Isaac_. So, I have her safe, and have only to find a priest to marry
us.
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