Don Fer. My dear boy, I thank you.-[Aside.]So, here's an old friend I never saw before. Don Scipio. Tell Pedrillo where you have left your master's portmanteau. While I go lead him in triumph to his bride. [Exit. Don Fer. Pray, my good, new, old friend, where has your care deposited this portmanteau ? Spado. Gone! [Looking after DoN SCIPIO. Don Fer. The portmanteau gone! Spado. Ay, his senses are quite gone. Don Fer. Where's the portmanteau that Don Scipio says you took charge of? Spado. Portmanteau! Ah, the dear gentleman! Portmanteau did he say? yes, yes, all's over with his poor brain; yesterday his head run upon purses, and trumpeters, and the lord knows what; and to-day he talks of dreamers, spies, and portmanteaus.-Yes, yes, his wits are going. Don Fer. It must be so; he talked to me last night and to-day of I know not what, in a strange incoherent style. Spado. Grief-all grief. Don Fer. If so, this whim of my being Pedrillo, is perhaps, the creation of his own brain,--but then, how could it have run through the whole family?This is the first time I ever heard Don Scipio was disordered in his mind. Spado. Ay, we'd all wish to conceal it from your master, lest it might induce him to break off the match, for I don't suppose he'd be very ready to marry into a mad family. Don Fer. And pray, what are you, sir, in this mad family? Spado. Don Scipio's own gentleman, these ten years--Yet, you heard him just now call me your fellow servant. How you did stare when I accosted you as an old acquaintance!-But we always humour him-I should not have contradicted him, if he said I was the pope's nuncio. Don Fer. [Aside.] Oh, then I don't wonder at Dame Isabel taking advantage of his weakness. Spado. Another new whim of his, he has taken a fancy, that every body has got a ring from him, which he imagines, belonged to his deceased lady. Don Fer. True, he asked me something about a ring. Don Scipio. [Without.] I'll wait on you presently. Enter DON SCIPIO. Don Scipio. Ha, Pedrillo, now your disguises are over, return me the ring. Spado. [Apart to FERNANDO.] You see he's at the ring again. Don Scipio. Come, let me have it, lad, I'll give you a better thing, but that ring belonged to my deceased lady. Spado. [To FERNANDO.] His deceased lady-Ay, there's the touch, Don Fer. Poor gentleman! [Aside. Don Scipio. Do let me have it.-Zounds, here's five pistoles, and the gold of the ring is not worth a dollar. Spado. We always humour him; give him this ring, and take the money. [Apart.-Gives FERNANDO a Ring. Don Fer. [Presents it to DoN SCIPIO.] There, sir. Don Scipio. [Gives Money.] And there, sir,-Oh, you mercenary rascal! [Aside.] I knew 'twas on the purse I gave you last night in the forest. Spado. Give me the cash, I must account for his pocket money. [Apart to, and taking the Money from, FERNANDO. Ped. [Without.] Pedrillo! Pedrillo! sirrah! Don Scipio. Run, don't you hear your master, you brace of rascals?—Fly! [Exit SPADO. Don Scipio. [Looking out.] What an alteration! Enter PEDRILLO, richly dressed. Ped. [To FERNANDO.] How now, sirrah! loitering here, and leave me to dress myself, hey! Don Fer. Sir, I was [With great Authority. [With Humility. Ped. Was! and are and will be, a lounging rascal, but you fancy you are still in your finery, you idle vagabond! Don Scipio. Bless me, Don Fernando is very passionate, just like his father. Don Fer. [Aside.] The fellow, I see, will play his part to the top. Ped. Well, Don Scipio,-A hey! an't I the man for the ladies? [Strutting.] I am, for I have studied Ovid's Art of Love. Don Scipio. Yes, and Ovid's Metamorphoses too, ha ha ha! Ped. [Aside.] He! he he! what a sneaking figure my poor master cuts !-Egad! I'll pay him back all his domineering over me.-Pedrillo! Don Fer. Your honour. Ped. Fill this box with Naquatoch. Don Fer. Yes, sir, Ped. Pedrillo! Don Fer. [Aside.] What an impudent dog!—Sir? Ped. Nothing Abscond. Don Fer. [Aside.] If this be my picture, I blush for the original. Ped. Master, to be like you, do let me give you one kick. Don Fer. What! [Aside to FERNANDO. Ped. Why, I won't hurt you much. Don Fer. I'll break your bones, you villain. Ped. Ahem! Tol de rol. Don Scipio. Pedrillo ! Ped. Sir? [Forgetting himself. Don Fer. [Apart.] What are you at, you rascal ? Ped. Ay, what are you at, you rascal? avoid? Don Fer. I'm gone, sir. [Exit. Ped. Cursed illnatured of him, not to let me give one kick. [Aside. Don Scipio. Don Fernando, I like you vastly. Ped. So you ought.-Tol de rol.-Who could now suspect me to be the son of a tailor, and that, four hours ago, I was a footman! [Aside.] Tol de rol. Don Scipio. Son-in-law, you're a flaming beau !-Egad, you have a princely person. Ped. All the young girls-whenever I got behind -Inside of a coach,--All the ladies of distinction, whether they were making their beds, or dressing the -dressing themselves at the toilette, would run to the windows,-peep through their fingers, their fans I mean, simper behind their handkerchiefs, and lisp out in the softest, sweetest tones, " Oh, dear me, upon my honour and reputation, there is not such a beautiful gentleman in the world, as this same Don PedrillFernando." Don Scipio. Ha! ha! ha! can't forget Pedrillo.But come, ha' done with your Pedrillos now-be yourself, son-in-law. Ped. Yes, I will be yourself son-in-law, you are sure of that honour, Don Scipio, but pray, what fortune am I to have with your daughter? You are a grey-headed old fellow, Don Scipio, and by the course of nature, you know, you cannot live long. Don Scipio. Pardon me, sir, I don't know thing. any such Ped. So when we put a stone upon your head- Ped. Yes, when you are settled--screwed down, I shall have your daughter to maintain, you know. Don Scipio. [Aside,] A narrow-minded spark! Ped. Not that I would think much of that, I am so generous, Don Scipio. Yes, generous as a Dutch usurer! [Aside. Ped. The truth is, Don Scipio, I was always a smart young gentleman. [Dances and sings. Don Scipio. A hey! Since Don Fernando turns out to be such a coxcomb, 'faith, I'm not sorry that my own child has escaped him :—A convent itself, is better than a marriage with a monkey.-The poor thing's fortune though!-And then my son-I begin now to think I was too hard upon Cæsar-to compare him with this puppy--but I must forget my children, Dame Isabel will have me upon no other [Aside. terms. Ped. D'ye hear, Don Scipio, let us have a plentiful feast. Don Scipio, Was ever such a conceited, empty, impudent[Exit. Ped. Yes, I'm a capital fellow, ha! ha! So my fool of a master sets his wits to work after a poor girl, that, I am told, they are packing into a convent, and he dresses me up as himself, to carry the rich Italian heiress, Donna Victoria-Well, I'm not a capital fellow; but I was made for a gentlemangentleman! I'm the neat pattern for a lord-I have a little honour about me-a bit of love too; ay, and a scrap of courage, perhaps-hem! I wish I'd a rival to try it though-od, I think I could fight at any weapon, from a needle to a hatchet. |