Caesar. What's that! what did she say? my head is giddy with surprise. Julio. And mine with rapture. [Catching her Hand, Cæsar, Don't make a fool of me, Olivia.-Wil't marry him? Oliv. When you command me, sir. Cæsar. My dear Don Julio, thou art my guardian angel-shall I have a son-in-law at last? Garcia, Vincentio, could you have thought it? Gar. No, sir; if we had, we should have saved that lady much trouble; 'tis pretty clear now, why she was a vixen, Vin. Yes, yes, 'tis clear enough, and I beg your pardon, madam, for the share of trouble I gave you→ but, pray, have the goodness to tell me sincerely, what do you think of a crash? Oliv. I love music, Don Vincentio, I admire your skill, and whenever you'll give me a concert, I shall be obliged. Vin, You could not have pleased me so well, if you had married me. Enter DON CARLOS and VICTORIA, Oliv. Hah! here comes Victoria and her Carlos. My friend, you are happy-'tis in your eyes; I need not ask the event. Cæsar, What, is this Don Carlos, whom Victoria gave us for a cousin? Sir, you come in happy hour! Car. I do indeed, for I am most happy. Julio, My dear Carlos, what has new made thee thus, this morning? Car. A wife! Marry, Julio, marry! Julio. What! this advice from you? Car. Yes; and when you have married an angel, when that angel has done for you such things, as makes your gratitude almost equal to your love, you may then guess something of what I feel, in calling this angel mine. Oliv. Now, I trust, Don Julio, after all this, that if I should do you the honour of my hand, you'll treat me cruelly, be a very bad man, that I, like my exemplary cousin Vict. Hold, Olivia! it is not necessary that a husband should be faulty, to make a wife's character exemplary. Should he be tenderly watchful of your happiness, your gratitude will give a thousand graces to your conduct; whilst the purity of your manners, and the nice honour of your life, will gain you the approbation of those, whose praise is fame. Oliv. Pretty and matronly! thank you, my dear. We have each struck a bold stroke to-day;-yours has been to reclaim a husband, mine to get one; but the most important is yet to be obtained-the approbation of our judges. That meed withheld, our labours have been vain ; Pointless my Jests, and doubly keen your pain; Might we their plaudits, and their praise provoke, Our bold should then be term'd, a happy stroke. THE END. |