st laws,
And, like the prophet, checks the planet's course.
But from this world of hate, the night has fled,
And I must hie me hence. O Isidora!
Though my seeming's doubtful, yet remember,
'Tis true as Heaven, I love thee!

_Isid._ I'm sure thou dost, and feeling thus assured,
I am content.

_Enter Nina, hastily, from balcony._

_Nina._ Madam, the lady Inez pass'd your door,
And, passing, tried the bolt, e'en now I hear
Her footsteps in the corridor.

_Isid._ We must away, dear Gaspar. Fare thee well!
Nina shall tell thee when we next can meet.

[_Exit Isidora and Nina at balcony._

_Gasp._ So parts the miser from his hoarded wealth,
And eyes the casket when the keys are turn'd.
I must away.
The world e'en now awakes, and the wan moon
(Like some tired sentinel, his vigil o'er)
Sinks down beneath yon trees. The morning mist
Already seeks the skies, ascending straight,
Like infant's prayers, or souls of holy martyrs.
I must away.
The world will not revolve another hour,
Ere hives of men will pour their millions forth,
To seek their food by labour, or supply
Their wants by plunder, flattery, or deceit.
Avarice again will count the dream'd-of hoards,
Envy and Rancour stab, whilst sobbing Charity
Will bind the fest'ring wounds that they have giv'n.
The world of sin and selfishness awakes
Once more, to swell its catalogue of crime,
So monstrous that it wearies patient Heav'n.
I must away. [_Exit._

_Act II. Scene I._

_The street before Anselmo's lodgings._

_Enter Antonio._

If ever fortune played me a jade's trick, 'twas when she brought my
wives to Seville. So far have I contrived to keep them separate; but
should they meet, they'll talk; and then, woe to that most interesting
of all subjects, myself! I am sure to be discovered. Why, in half an
hour, their rapid tongues would range o'er half the creation. Now, Beppa
is my first wife, and, like all other first choices, the worst. There's
vengeance in her, and she'll apply to the authorities; then must I to
the galleys. Who wants a wife? I have one--aye two--to dispose of. Here
comes a fool I trifle with. (_Enter Sancho._) So, comrade, what's your
business now? (_Mimicking him._) Saint Petronila! you are a faithful
servant, ever stirring to do your master's pleasure.

_San._ 'Tis not his pleasure that I am upon--it is my own: I go to Donna
Isidora's.

_Ant._ What dost thou there?

_San._ (_affectedly_). I please a damsel, and she pleas