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ACT THE THIRD.

SCENE I.

A Grand Saloon.

Enter DON SCIPIO and VASQUEZ.

Don Scipio. D'ye hear, Vasquez, run to Father Benedick, 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 a thumping bantling every year!
With skin as white as snow,

And hair as brown as a berry!
With eyes as black as a sloe,
And lips as red as a cherry ;
Sing rory tory,

Dancing, prancing,

Laugh and lie down is the play,
We'll fondle together,

In spite of the weather,

And kiss the cold winter away,

Laugh while you live,
For as life is a jest,
Who laughs the most,
Is sure to live best.
When I was not so old,

I frolick'd among the misses;
And when they thought me too bold,
I stopp'd their mouths with kisses.
Sing rory, tory, &c.

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 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 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

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?

his

Spado. Portmanteau! Ah, the dear gentleman! Portmanteau did he say? yes, yes, all's over with poor brain; yesterday his head run upon purses, and trumpeters, and the lord knows what; and today 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 incohe rent style.

Spado. Grief-all grief.

Don Fer. If so, this whim of my being Pedrillo, is perhaps the creation of his own brain, but ten, 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,-be 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.

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Don Fer. [Aside.] What an impudent dog!-Sir?

Prd. Nothing-Abscond.

Don Fer. [Aside.] If this be my picture, I blush

for the original.

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