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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 ?

[T. FERNANDO. 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 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,

Be ever fond and tender,
And sweet connubial joys shall crown

Each soft rosy hour :
In pure delight each heart shall own

Love's triumphant pow'r.
See brilliant belles admiring,
See splendid beaux desiring,
Au for a smile expiring,

Where'er Lorenza moves.
To balls and routs resorting,
O bliss supreme, transporting!
Yet ogling, flirting, courting,
'Tis you alone,

that loves.
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 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, lory, &c.

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I wonder, is Don Fernando drest-Oh, here comes the servant, in his proper habiliments !

Enter Don FERNANDO, in a Liocry. 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

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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 tri. umph 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 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 t en, 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 haye 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 10 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!

[Erit SPADO. Don Scipio. (Looking out] What an alteration !

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