Gon. Now would I give a thousand furlongs
Of sea, for an acre of barren ground,
Long heath, brown furze, any thing. The
Wills above be done! But I would fain die a
Dry death.
Tempest.
De Vere had not intended to marry quite so soon as he did, but being unexpectedly recalled home by an order from the admiralty, and wishing to take his beautiful Clara with him, he had with very little difficulty persuaded her to hasten their bridal day, and then accompany him to England.
Don Manuel was at first very loth to let his daughter leave him. Had it been Francisca, he would not have consented; her soft and gentle disposition had entwined itself completely around the old man’s heart. But there was more of pride mingled with his affection for Clara; and she so enthusiastically expressed her desire to visit the English metropolis, and to travel over the heaving waves of the broad Atlantic—for she had never been to sea—that the old Don gave way to her entreaties; and with many kisses and promises of soon seeing them again, but apparently without much distress, she took leave of her father and sister on the deck of the Scorpion, where they had accompanied her to take a last farewell. Telling De Vere to watch well the charge he had entrusted to him, with sorrow and tears Don Manuel and Francisca got into their boat.
As soon as the boat was clear of the brig, which was only waiting for them to make sail, and whose sails were all loose, but held in their places by the men who had unloosed them, were let fall together, and walking away with all the halyards at once, the Scorpion was under all sail, and standing out of the harbor before Don Manuel’s boat reached the shore.
Francisca and her father both felt very much the loss of Clara and De Vere’s company; but knowing it was useless to make vain lamentations, they returned home.