Could I her faults remember,
Forgetting every charm,
Soon would impartial reason
The tyrant love disarm:
But when enraged I number
Each failing of her mind,
Love still suggests each beauty,
And sees--while reason's blind.

_Lop_. Here comes Don Antonio, sir.

_Don Ferd_. Well, go you home--I shall be there presently.

_Lop_. Ah, those cursed smiles! [_Exit_.]

_Enter_ DON ANTONIO.

_Don Ferd_. Antonio, Lopez tells me he left you chanting before our
door--was my father waked?

_Don Ant_. Yes, yes; he has a singular affection for music; so I left
him roaring at his barred window, like the print of Bajazet in the
cage. And what brings you out so early?

_Don Ferd_. I believe I told you, that to-morrow was the day fixed by
Don Pedro and Clara's unnatural step-mother, for her to enter a
convent, in order that her brat might possess her fortune: made
desperate by this, I procured a key to the door, and bribed Clara's
maid to leave it unbolted; at two this morning, I entered unperceived,