Audinet foulp. De Wilde pinx! Either M.DIMOND as DON FELIX. my eye London. Printed for J.Bell, British Library, Strand, July 211792. Vio. Oh, quick, quick! I shall die with apprehension. Flo. Be sure you don't speak a word. Fel. Not for the Indies- but I shall observe you closer than you imagine. [side. Ped. [Within.] Violante, where are you, child? Enter Don PEDRO. Why, how came the garden door open ?-Ha! how now, who have we here? Vio. Humph!-he'll certainly discover him. Flo. 'Tis my mother, an't please you, sir. [Aside. [She and Felix both curtsey. Ped. Your mother! by St. Andrew she's a strap per! why, you are a dwarf to her.—— children have you, good woman ? Vio. Oh, if he speaks we are lost. How many [Aside. Flo. Oh, dear senior, she cannot hear you; she has been deaf these twenty years. Ped. Alas, poor woman 1-Why, you muffle her up as if she were blind too. Fel. Would I were fairly off. Ped. Turn up her hood. [Aside. Vio. Undone for ever!—— -St. Anthony forbid. Oh, sir, she has the dreadfullest unlucky eyesPray don't look upon them; I made her keep her hood shut on purpose.—Oh, oh, oh, oh! Ped. Eyes! eyes? Why, what's the matter with her G Flo. My poor mother, sir, is much afflicted with the cholic, and about two months ago she had it grievously in her stomach, and was over-persuaded to take a dram of filthy English Geneva- -which immediately flew up into her head, and caused such a defluxion in her eyes, that she could never since bear the day-light. Poor woman! Ped. Say you so ? -Well, make her sit down, Violante, and give her a glass of wine. Vio. Let her daughter give her a glass below, sir : For my part, she has frighted me so I sha'n't be myself these two hours-I am sure her eyes are evil eyes. "Fel. Well hinted." Ped. Well, well, do so.- -Evil eyes! there are no evil eyes, child. Flo. Come along, mother-[Speaks loud.]— [Exeunt Felix and Flora. Vio. I'm glad he's gone. [Aside. Ped. Hast thou heard the news, Violante? Vio. What news, sir? Ped. Why, Vasquez tells me that Don Lopez' daughter Isabella is run away from her father: that lord has very ill fortune with his children.Well, I'm glad my daughter has no inclination to mankind, that my house is plagued with no suitors. [Aside. Vio. This is the first word ever I heard of it: I pity her frailty Ped. Well said, Violante. tend thy happiness shall begin. Enter FLORA. Next week I in. Vio. I don't intend to stay so long, thank you, papa. [Aside. Ped. My Lady Abbess writes word she longs to see thee, and has provided every thing in order for thy reception.- Thou wilt lead a happy life, my girlfifty times before that of matrimonywhere an extravagant coxcomb might make a beggar of thee, or an ill-natured surly dog break thy heart. Flo. Break her heart! she had as good have her bones broke, as to be a nun; I am sure I had rather of the two. You are wondrous kind, sir: but if [ had such a father I know what I would do. Ped. Why, what would you do, minx, ha ? Flo. I would tell him I had as good a right and title to the law of nature and the end of the creation as he had. Ped. You would, mistress! who the devil doubts it ? A good assurance is a chamber-maid's coat of arms, and lying and contriving the supporters. Your inclinations are on tiptoe, it seems. If I were your father, housewife, I'd have a penance enjoined you so strict, that you should not be able to turn you in your bed for a month.-You are enough to spoil your lady, housewife, if she had not abun dance of devotion. |