Don Ferd. What, could you gather no tidings of her? nor guess where she was gone? O Clara! Clara!
Lop. In truth, sir, I could not. That she was run away from her father, was in everybody's mouth; and that Don Guzman was in pursuit of her, was also a very common report. Where she was gone, or what was become of her, no one could take upon them to say.
Don Ferd. 'Sdeath and fury, you blockhead! she can't be out of Seville.
Lop. So I said to myself, sir. 'Sdeath and fury, you blockhead, says I, she can't be out of Seville. Then some said, she had hanged herself for love; and others have it, Don Antonio had carried her off.
Don Ferd. 'Tis false, scoundrel! no one said that.
Lop. Then I misunderstood them, sir.
Don Ferd. Go, fool, get home! and never let me see you again till you bring me news of her.—[Exit LOPEZ.] Oh, how my fondness for this ungrateful girl has hurt my disposition.
Enter ISAAC.
Isaac. So, I have her safe, and have only to find a priest to marry us. Antonio now may marry Clara, or not, if he pleases.
Don Ferd. What! what was that you said of Clara?