_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_.
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