The Duenna: A Comic Opera Part 15

_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 s.h.i.+ne.

Let mirth and glee abound!

You'll soon grow bright With borrow'd light, And s.h.i.+ne 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 ma.s.ses.

_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 gla.s.s 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 appet.i.tes; 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 appet.i.tes 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 gla.s.s_] and show me where I am wanted.--[PORTER _drains the gla.s.s_.--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?