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Don. Fer. These clothes fall to my share, however; my master will never wear them after me. Don Scipio. His master! ay, ay. [Aside. Don Fer. I wish he'd own himself, for I'm certain Don Scipio suspects who Iain. _ ' Don Scipio. Suspect! Iknow who you are, [Ad» warming to lu'm.] So get into your livery again as fast as you can. ' Drm Fer. Ha, my dear friend, Don Scipio, I wasDon Scipio. Friend ! you impudent rascal ! I'll break your head, if you make so free with me. None of your swaggering, sirrah.--How the fellow acts ! it wasn't for nothing he was among the strolling players; but, harkye, my lad, be quiet, for you're blown here, without the help of your trumpet. Don Fer. Lord, your honour, how came you to know that I am Pedrillo? Don Scipio. Why, Iwas told of it by your fellow -—hold, I must not betray my little dreamer though —[Asirle.]—No matter who told me; I—but here comes your master. Don Fer. Pedrillo! The follow will spoil all; I wish I had given him his lesson before I began with
Don Scipio. [/Iside. Don Scipio. I hope he'll now have done with his gambols.
Don Fer. Sir, my master is such an obstinate gentleman, as sure as you stand here, he'll still deny him.self to be Don Fernando.
Don Scipio. Will he? then I'll write his father an account of his vagaries.
Don Scipio. Shave! Oh, my dear sir, time to give _
over your tricks and fancies.
Ped. I am found out !
Don Scipio. So you may as well confess.
Ped. What the devil she'll I confess?
Don Scipio. He still persists! Harkye, young gentleman, I'll send your father an account of your pranks, and he'll trim your jacket for you.
Ped. Nay, sir, for the matter of that, my father could trim yourjacket for you.
Don Scipio. Trim my jacket, young gentleman!
Pad. Why, he's the best tailor in Cordova.
Don Scipio. His father's a tailor in Cordova!
Don Fer. Ay, he'll ruin all—[Aside.]—Let me speak to him. Tell Don Scipio, you are the masteL
' [Apart to PEDRILLO.
Ped. I will, sir.—Don Scipio, you are the master.
Don Scipio. What!
Don Fer. Stupid dog!—[Apart to Pr.imiLLo.]— Say you are Fernando, and I am Pedrillo.
Ped. I will—Sir, you are Fernando, and I am Pedrillo.
Don Fer. Dull rogue! [Aside.] I told you, sir, he'd persist in it. [Apart to Don Scipio.
Don Scipio. Yes, Isee it; but Itell you what, Don F6i‘i'iaI1(Io.—[I_-oRENZA sings without.] My daughter! Zounds ! don’t let your mistress see you any more in this cursed livery.—Look at the gentleman, hold up your head—egad, Pcdrillo's acting was better than your natural manner.
Don Fer. Ah, sir, if you were to see my master dressed—the livery makes such an alteration!
Don Scipio. True! curse the livery.
Ped. It's bad enough ; but my master gives new liveries on his marriage.
’ Don Fer. An insensible scoundrel! [Aside
Enter Loam: za.
Lor. ‘Oh, caro, Signor, every body says that you are [To Don FERNANDo.] not Don Fernando.
Don Scipio. Every body's right, for here he stands, like a young tailor of Cordova. [To Pemuuo. Lor. .Oh, what? then this is Pedrillo? [To FzmnxNDo. Don Fer. At your service, ma’am. [Bowing. Ped. That Pedrillo ! then, who the devil am I?
Don Fer. Here, rogue, this purse is _yours—say you are Don Fernando. [Apart to PBDRILLO.
Ped. Oh, sir—now I understand you.—-True, Don Scipio, I am all that he says.
Dan Scipio. Hey! Now that's right and sensible, and like yourself; but I'll go bustle about our business, for we'll have all our love affairs settled this evening.
[Exeunt Don SCIPIO and FnnnnNDo.
Lor. So, then, you're to be my husband, ha! ha! ha !
Ped. Eh! .
Lor. Well, if not, I can be as cold as you are in
I_ f I my heart surrender,
Love's triumphant pow'r.
See brilliant belles admiring,
See splendid beaur desiring,
All /or a smile expiring,
To balls and routs resorting,
O bliss supreme, transporting!
Yet ogling, flirting, courting,
If I my heart surrender, .5-c. [Exennt.
Then hey for a lass and a bottle to cheer,
Sing rory tory,‘
W e'll fondle-together,
In spite of the weather,
I wonder, is Don Fernando drest—-Oh, here comes the servant, in his proper habiliments!
Ay, now, my lad, you look something like.
Don Fer. Yes, your honour, I was quite sick of my grandeur—My passing so well in this disguise, gives me :1. very humble opinion of myself. [Aside.
Don Scipio. But, Pedrillo, is your master equipped ? ’faith, I long to see him in his proper garb.
Don Fer. Why, no, sir, we're a little behind hand with our finery, on account of a portmanteau of clothes that's mislaid somewhere or other.
Don Scipio. Portmanteau ! Oh, it's safe enough—-Your fellow servant has it.
Don Fer. Fellow servant?
Don Scipio. Ay, the little spy has taken it in charge——Oh, here comes the very beagle.
Enter SPA no.
Well, my little dreamer, look; Pedrillo has got into his own clothes again.
Spado. [Surprised and aside] Don Fernando in a livery l‘ or is this really a sorvant? Zounds! sure I han’t been telling truth all this while!—We must’ face it though—Ah, my dear old friend !—Glad to see you yourself again. [Shakes Hands.