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 I am. Don Scipio. Suspect! I know who you are, [Advancing to him.] So get into your livery again as fast as you can. Don Fer. Ha, my dear friend, Don Scipio, I was Don 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, I was told of it by your fellow -hold, I must not betray my little dreamer though -[Aside.]-No matter who told me; I-but here comes your master. Don Fer. Pedrillo! The fellow will spoil all; I wish I had given him his lesson before I began with Don Scipio. [Aside. 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 himself to be Don Fernando. Don Scipio. Will he? then I'll write his father an account of his vagaries. Enter PEDRillo. Ped. Master, shall I shave you this morning? Don Scipio. Shave! Oh, my dear sir, time to give, over your tricks and fancies. Ped. [Surprised.] My tricks and fancies! Don Fer. Yes, sir, you are found out. Ped. I am found out! Don Scipio. So you may as well 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 your jacket for you. Don Scipio. Trim my jacket, young gentleman! Ped. 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 master. [Apart to PEDRILLO. Ped. I will, sir.-Don Scipio, you are the master. Don Scipio. What! Don Fer. Stupid dog!-[Apart_to PEDRILLO.]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, I see it; but I tell you what, Don Fernando. [LORENZA 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, Pedrillo'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! Enter LORENZA. [Aside. 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 PEDRILLO. Lor. Oh, what? then this is Pedrillo ? [To FERNANDO. [Bowing. Don Fer. At your service, ma'am. Ped. That Pedrillo! then, who the devil am I? Don Fer. Here, rogue, this purse is yours-say you are Don Fernando, [Apart to PEDRILLO. Ped. Oh, sir-now I understand you.-True, Don Scipio, I am all that he says. Don 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 FERNANDO. 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 indifferent. AIR XV.LORENZA. If I my heart surrender, And sweet connubial joys shall crown In pure delight each heart shall own See brilliant belles admiring, Where'er Lorenza moves. If I my heart surrender, &c. [Exeunt. ACT THE THIRD, SCENE I. A Grand Saloon. Enter DON SCIPIO and VASQUEZ. Don Scipio. D'ye hear, Vasquez, run to Father Be nedick, tell him to wipe his chin, go up to the chapel, put on his spectacles, open his breviary,-find out matrimony, and wait till we come to him.-[Exit VASQUEZ.] Then, hey, for a brace of weddings! AIR XVII.-DON SCIPIO. Then hey for a lass and a bottle to cheer, And hair as brown as a berry! With eyes as black as a sloe, And lips as red as a cherry ș Laugh and lie down is the play, In spite of the weather, And kiss the cold winter away. Laugh while you live, Is sure to live best. I frolick'd among the misses; I wonder, is Don Fernando drest-Oh, here comes the servant, in his proper habiliments! Enter DON FERNANDO, in a Livery. 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 a 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 enoughYour 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 SPADO. Well, my little dreamer, look; Pedrillo has got into his own clothes again. Spado. [Surprised and aside.] Don Fernando in a livery or is this really a servant? 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, |