I have years to bring decay;
Few the locks that now I own,
And the few I have are grey.
Yet, old Jerome, thou mayst boast,
While thy spirits do not tire;
Still beneath thy age's frost
Glows a spark of youthful fire. [_Exit_.]




SCENE II.--_The New Piazza_.

_Enter_ DON FERDINAND _and_ LOPEZ.


_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.