Part 15 (2/2)

_Bep._ At the cup's brim the sweets have kiss'd your lips.

But, madam, like some weak, distemper'd child, You've yet to taste the nauseous dreaded draught Which is to cure you.

_Ser._ What mean you? Cure me!

_Bep._ 'Tis true Don Gaspar lives--as true he's false.

_Ser._ False! Beppa--false?

_Bep._ Most false and treacherous!

He loves another.

_Ser._ (_after a pause_). Did I hear rightly?

Impossible! It was but three days gone, He swore such oaths, if true, as Heav'n would register-- Should they prove false, as h.e.l.l might chuckle at.

_Bep._ And yet it is so, I am most a.s.sured.

_Ser._ If it be true, then everything is false.

It cannot, cannot be. Have I not lavish'd All I could bestow, myself and mine, Rejected all, to live within his arms, To breathe one breath with him, and dwell in ecstasy Upon his words. Oh no! he is not false You must belie him.

_Bep._ Nay, I would I did: I wonder not your doting heart rejects Such monstrous treachery. Yet it is true, And true as curs'd. The Donna Isidora By her charms has won him; and his feign'd death Was but a stratagem to shake you off.

As you last night a.s.serted, Perez fell; Don Felix, swearing vengeance, seeks Don Gaspar.

_Ser._ (_after a pause_). Who is this Isidora?

_Bep._ A lovely creature in her early bloom, The n.o.ble blood of Guzman in her veins, A rival worthy of your beauty, madam, And therefore one most dangerous.

_Ser._ Would that I had her here. My heart is now So full of anger, malice, and fierce hate, With all those direful and envenom'd pa.s.sions By which the b.r.e.a.s.t.s of demons are infected; If I but even look'd upon her face, My scorching breath would wither up her charms Like adder's poison. Would I had her here!

_Bep._ Yet blame her not. She's good and beautiful: Report doth much commend her early worth And ever active charity.

_Ser._ Were she not so, I yet might have retain'd My truant love. Each virtue that she hath With me's a vice--each charm, deformity.

They are my foes, array'd against my power, And I must hate them, as they've vanquish'd me.

_Bep._ But _my_ hate should fall on Gaspar, lady.

_Ser._ That's not so easy; the strong tide of love, Though check'd, still flows against the adverse hate.

In their opposing strife, my troubled breast Heaves as the elements in wild commotion.

_Bep._ It must not last. I've much to tell you yet Of this base man. When you have heard it all, A rapid flood of rage shall sweep its course, Lash'd by the storm raised in your much-wrong'd soul, O'erwhelming all remorse, to Gaspar's ruin.

_Ser._ Direct me, Heav'n! Come to my chamber, Beppa, I must unrobe me. When my swollen heart Can throb more freely, I will hear your tale.

Come on, good Beppa. [_Exeunt._

_Scene III._

_Street in Seville._

_Enter Antonio._

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