conclude that the old put was to believe all this? Had they no sham proofs that they proposed to bamboozle me with, as you call it?

Trap. You shall hear, sir (the plot was pretty well laid too). "I'll pretend," says he, "that the rascal, your rival," (meaning you then, sir) [To Hypolita]

has robb'd me of my portmanteau, where I had put up all my jewels, money, and letters of recommendation from my father. We are neither of us known in Madrid," says he, "so that a little impudence, and a grave face, will certainly set those two dogs a snarling, while you run away with the bone." That's all, sir.

Don M. Impudent rogue!

Hyp. What think ye, sir? Was not this business pretty handsomely laid?

Flora. Faith, it might have wrought a very ridiculous consequence.

Don M. Why truly, if we had not been fore-arm'd by this discovery, for aught I know, Mr. Dog might have ran away with the bone indeed: but if you please, sir, since these ingenious gentlemen are so pert upon the matter, we'll let 'em see that you and I have wit enough to do our business, and e'en clap up the wedding to-morrow morning. -But will your

Hyp. Sir, you are too obligingdaughter, think ye, be prevail'd with? Don M. Sir, I'll prepare her this minutemethinks, we released that bully though

-It's pity,

Flora. We might as well have held him a little.

Hyp. Really, sir, upon second thoughts, I wish we had his excusing his challenge so abruptly, makes me fancy he is in hopes of carrying his point some other way. Did not you observe your daughter's woman whisper him?

Don M. Humh!

Flora. They seem'd very busy, that's certain.

Hyp. I can't say about what-but it will be worth our while to be upon our guard.

Don M. I am alarm'd.

Hyp. Where is your daughter at this time?

Don M. I think she's pretty safe-but I'll go make her sure.

Flora. Where's her woman?

Don M. I'll be upon her presently-she shall be search'd for intelligence- -you'll excuse me, gentle

men.

Hyp. Sir, the occasion presses you.

Don M. If I find all safe, I'll return immediately; and then, if you please, we'll run over some old stories of my good friend Fernando.-Your servant. [Exit. Hyp. Sir, your most humble servant-Trappanti, thou'rt a rare fellow, thou hast an admirable face of brass, and when thou diest I'll have thy whole statue cast all in the same metal.

Flora. Twere pity the rogue was not bred to the law. Trap. So 'tis, indeed, sir.- A man should not praise himself; but if I had been bred to the gown, dare venture to say, I become a lie as well as any man that wears it, and that's a bold word.

Hyp. Nay, now thou art modest-but, sirrah, we have more work for ye; you must get in with the servants, attack the lady's woman: there, there's ammunition, rogue. [Gives him Money] Now try if you can make a breach into the secrets of the family.

Trap. Ah! sir, I warrant you-I could never yet meet with a woman that was this sort of pistol-proof.1 have known a handful of these do more than a barrel of gunpowder. [Exit.

Flora. Well, what must we do next?

Hyp. Why, now for the lady-I'll be a little brisk upon her, and then

Flora. Victoria!

[Exeunt.

Enter VILETTA, hastily; DON MANUEL and TRAPPANTI behind, observing her.

Vil. So! with much ado I have given the old don the slip; he has dangled with me through every room in the house, high and low, up stairs and down, as close to my tail as a great boy hankering after one of his mother's maids. Well, now we will see what monsieur Octavio says. [Takes a Letter from her Bosom. Trap. Hist! there she is, and alone: when the devil has any thing to do with a woman, sir, that's his time to take her: stand close. [Apart to Don Manuel. Don M. Ah! he's at work already--there's a letter. [Apart. Trap. Leave her to me, sir; I'll read it. [Apart. Vil. Ha! two pistoles!- -Well, I'll say that for him, the man knows his business; his letters always come post paid.

[While she is reading, Trappanti steals behind, and looks over her Shoulder.

you

Dear Viletta-Convey the enclosed immediately to your mistress, and, as you prize my life, use all possible means to keep the old gentleman from the closet till: are sure she is safe out of the window. Your real friendTrap. Octavio!

Vil. Ah!

[Reading. [Shrieks.

Trap. Madam, your ladyship's most humble servant. Vil. You're very impertinent, methinks, to look over other people's letters.

Trap. Why

I never read a letter in my life with

out looking it over.

Vil. I don't know any business you had to look upon this.

Trap. There's the thing you not knowing that has put you into this passion.

Vil. You may chance to have your bones broke, Mr. Coxcomb.

Trap. Sweet honeycomb, don't be so waspish; or if I keep your counsel, d'ye see, I don't know why my bones mayn't keep their places; but if I peach, whose bones will pay for it then?

him.

Vil. Ha! the fool says true; I had better wheedle [Aside. Trap. Don't you love money above any thing in the world except one?

Vil. I except nothing.

Trap. Very good.--And pray how many letters do you expect to be paid for when Octavio has married your mistress, and has no occasion to write to her? While they are lovers, they will always have occasion for a confidant and a go-between; but when they marry -Serviteur-good night vails; our harvest is over: -what d'ye think of me now?

Vil. Why I like what you say very well: but I don't know, my friend, to me--that same face of yours looks like the title-page to a whole volume of roguery. -What is't you drive at?

Trap. Money, money, money. Don't you let your mistress marry Octavio. I'll do my best to hinder my

master: let you and I lay our heads together to keep them asunder, and so make a penny of 'em all three. Vil. Look you, seignior, I'll meet you half way, and confess to you I had made a rough draught of this project myself: but say I should agree with you to go on upon't, what security can you give me for performance of articles?

Trap. More than bond or judgment

in custody.

Vil. Ah! that won't do.

-my person

Trap. No, my love, why, there's many a sweet bit in't-taste it. [Offers to kiss her; she puts him away.

Vil. No!

Trap. Faith, you must give me one.

Vil. Indeed, my friend, you are too ugly for me; though I am not handsome myself, I love to play with those that are.

Trap. And yet, methinks, an honest fellow of my size and complexion, in a careless posture, playing the fool thus with his money.

[Tosses a Purse; she catches it, and he kisses her. Vil. Pshaw! Well, if I must, come then.-To see how a woman may be deceived at first sight of a man. Trap. Nay then, take a second thought of me, child. [Kisses her again.

Don M. Ha!-This is laying their heads together indeed.

[Aside. Vil. Well, now get you gone; I have a letter to give to my mistress; slip into the garden-I'll come t'ye presently.

Trap. Is't from Octavio?

Vil. Pshaw! be gone, I say.

Trap. Hist!

[Snatches the Letter.

[Beckons Don Manuel, who goes softly behind.

Vil. Madam! Madam! ah!

Don M. Now, strumpet, give me the other letter, or

I'll murder you.

Vil. Ah! lud! Olud! there! there!

[Draws. [Squeaks.

[Reads.

Don M. Now we shall see what my gentleman would

be at.