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I must have carte-blanche for a hotel, an equipage, a wardrobe,-or here I stay.

Col. Carte-blanche! The fellow will make us bankrupt. He'll break the regiment. Tor. Break1) the regiment? No!—I don't aspire to be a national benefactor.

Maj. Bravo! your scheme?

Tor. The whole affair needs not cost you a sequin. It can be done on credit. Why, if it were not done on credit, nobody would take me for a man of fashion. When the cash is called for, you have only to follow the most approved examples; take the benefit2)— of these walls, and,-sponge.

Nor love nor scorn can wring me more. I lov'd, how deeply lov'd! Oh, Heaven! To thee, to thee the pang is known; Yet, traitor! be thy crime forgiven, Mine be the shame, the grief alone! The maddening hour when first we met, The glance, the smile, the vow you gave: The last wild moment haunt me yet; I feel they'll haunt me to my grave!— Down, wayward heart, no longer heave; Thou idle tear, no longer flow; And may that Heav'n he dar'd deceive, Forgive, as I forgive him now. Too lovely, oh, too lov'd, farewell! Though parting rends my bosom strings, This hour we part!-The grave shall tell The thought that to my spirit clings. Thou pain, above all other pain! Thou joy, all other joys above! Again, again I feel thy chain, And die thy weeping martyr-Love. Cor. Let me see,-Duke of Monté-Pulciano, Are lovers' oaths! There's not a light in heaven Vic. Oh! what decaying, feeble, fickle things Sauterne, Côte rôtie, or Vin de Graves.

Maj. How the devil did he get his knowledge of first principles ?

Cor. The haut-ton to a hair.-How rapidly the rascal fashionizes!-You can give him the lady's picture, Major. It will be his commission.

Maj. Undoubtedly when he is ready to start. But what title shall we give our commissioner?

scorns;

I trampled him: and yet one

word,

maiden duty, casts him off, Like a loos'd falcon! No! he never loved.

Tor. No, no. Those are "familiar as house-But he has sworn by; not a wandering air, hold names;" they are in every body's mouth. To love me, serve me, through all sorrows, But he has loaded with his burning vows, Maj. I have it.-There's the old Prince de Pindemonté, that all Naples was talking about a year or two ago. He has been roving Eu-Aye, though rope for some stray son of his. You have no objection to be the heir? [To Torrento. Spoke, too, in Tor. The heir? I'll be the Prince himself, or nothing. Prince de Pindemonté! the very title for me. Brilliant-irresistible! My principality is settled. I'll be a model to the blood! [Parading about. Col. I see a difficulty in this: suppose the Prince should hear of this assumption of his name?

Enter LEONORA.

Leon. Victoria! sister! there's a sight abroad-
What, weeping?

Vic. [Embarrassed]-Girl, 'tis nothing-
Chance-'tis done.

Leon. Nothing, sweet sister! here are heavy
signs

Cor. Or the son, by accident, know his own father? [Laughing. Of a pained spirit; sighs upon your lips, Maj. Poh, pob!—a mighty unlikely sort of Blushes, that die away like summer-hues thing in this country. On the cropt rose; and here's a heaving heart, The very beat of woe! (She presses her Hand upon Victoria's side.) [A distant flourish of Horns is heard. Vic. What sounds are those? Leon. I flew to tell you, there's a sight i th' Square,

Col. Well, Major, to our quarters, and let us give this diplomatist his final instructions. Maj. [Calls]-A word, Signior Jeronimo.

[The Major converses with him. Jail. You will be responsible, Major?--A week! You may be wanted, you know, [To Torrento] by that time. Good night, your honours. Sure to see them again, some time or other.-la, ba! [Aside. Exit. Maj. [To Tor.] Forwards. Come, Cupid. Cor. Cupid, ha, ha, ha! Follow us.

i

Worth all the faithless lovers in the world!
Vic. Let's rail at love.
[Musing.
Leon. [Laughing]-Aye, a whole summer's

day.

Vic. Love is the lightest folly of the earth; [To Torrento. An infant's toy, that reason throws away; Tor. [Pushing forwards]-Follow? Do A dream, that quits our eyelids with a touch; you know to whom you speak? Follow me; A music, dying as it leaves the lip; Hussars, follow the Prince de Pindemonté. A morning cloud, dissolv'd before the sun; Cor. The Prince !-Muffs and meerschaums! Love is the very echo of weak hearts; [Exeunt, laughing. The louder for their emptiness; a shade, A colour of the rainbow;-vanity! Leon. [Laughing]-She will forswear the [A flourish of distant Music. Ven. [Outside, Calling] Marcello-PedroVic. My father's voice-'tis angry

ACT III.

SCENE I.-An Apartment, with a Balcony.

VICTORIA alone.

Farewell! I've broke my chain at last!
I stand upon life's fatal shore!
The bitterness of death is past,

1) To break the funds of the regiment; and to break, or
disband the regiment.

⚫) Alluding to the insolvent debtor's act.

Leon.

[world.

Here's a shade.

We can escape. [They go behind the Screen.

VENTOSO comes in.

Ven. More plagues for me; they'll have my life at last.

[Calls]-Pisanio! Fabian! Pestilence on your
tribe;

Would I were rid of you.
A Noble's life!
What is it, after all, but gall and gout,
Clamour for quiet, etiquette for ease,
Watching for sleep, for comfort drudgery?
To feed a liveried rabble at your cost,
That rob you to your face!-Pisanio, ho!
[Calls.
The slaves are deaf or drunk.

To waste the night,
That Nature made for sleep, in routs and balls!
To stuff your wives and daughters' heads with
whims,

That bring lean beggary within the house!
I'll fling it off at once; sell all, burn all,
I'll fly to Abyssinia-to the world's end,
Before the moon is old.

Vic. [Coming from behind the Screen.]
'Tis some new trouble, we must quiet him.
What has displeased you, Sir? [To Ventoso.
Ven. Look there-look there-

The road is full of soldiers, coming straight-
Leon. Where, my dear father?

Ven.

[She runs to the Window. Where, but to this house? Where else can any mischief light on earth? I'll welcome them. [Calls] Marcello, load the

arms!

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Ven. Let me go down! What clamour's in the house?

Coun. You'd have it, that we must be all
undone,-

A bye-word!-not a husband would be found
In Sicily for one of us! Look here,
Here is the letter; the despatch; the prize!
|(They gather round to look over it; she
repels them.)

Keep off your hands, no soul shall read a line;
I have perus'd it; 'tis a prodigy! [She reads.
"His Highness the Prince de Pindemonté,
Duke of Tofaro, Count of Vendittá." (And
twenty other names besides.) [Reads] "To
the Count Ventoso, these. Having heard of
the rare beauty of the Signora your daughter;
we are disposed to honour your house with
the alliance of our illustrious family. We
shall, therefore, in pursuance of this our prince-
ly inclination, go to your Palazza this eve-
ning; and, having approved of your daughter,
shall forthwith marry her." Signed--"PINDE-
MONTE," et caetera, et caetera, et caetera.
Vic. Most sovereign insolence! Send his
letter back.

Leon. This is bold wooing, sister!

Ven.

There's no talk Of dower, of borrowing money,-let me see[He takes the Letter.

'Tis writ like a grandee.

Coun.

The finest thing

I ever read. Saints! how it smells of musk!
'Tis true court-language, birth in every line;
He is my son-in-law. Now, listen all:
[To Leon] You to your chamber, till you're
sent for, child.
Vic. I shall go with her.

Coun.

Your silks, your laces.

Yes; to get your pearls,

Leon. [Laughing] Must I have no chance?
Coun. Wise mothers all push off the elder

first,

Else she may hang upon their hands for life. [To Vic.] Curl those wild locks. Heaven help me, here's a head!

[The Countess enters, holding up a large Letter, wrapped in Silk. She urges [To Ven.] I'll give the answer to the Page

Ventoso back.

come round her.]

Victoria and Leonora

Coun. What rabble? You are wise,
And all the world are fools! This letter, Count,
Comes from

Ven.

Coun.

From Lucifer!

myself.

Blushing, forsooth! that colour's out of date,
Unknown among grandees. Look sallow, girl!
The men are all for sentiment this week.
Ven. My mind misgives me; 'tis a world
of rogues;

Aye, rack your brains; I'll sift this Page's brains. [Going, he returns.

I'm but a simple woman, have no head,

Yet, mark me,

No eyes, no cars; the world would run astray No wasteful fooleries; no banquettings;
But for the men, those great philosophers!
Vic. Dear mother, is't good news?
Leon.
Some noble fête?

Coun. Count, read this name.
Ven. [Reads] "The Prince de Pindemonté."
Leon. [Aside]-Charming title.
Ven.
I think I've heard the name.
He wants to borrow money, like them all!
Coun. When I shut out that captain, that
buff-belt,

That low-blooded strappado, that half-pay,
The world must go to wreck. My Lady there
[To Victoria.
Forswore her meals, and march'd in tears to bed.
And you, you wisehead, second Solomon-
[Ventoso trying to escape, she stands in

his way.

No feedings of this most illustrious-fool,
Who flings his pearl of liberty away.

I will have no carouse.

wife:

[He goes toward the Door. Coun. We'll try that point. [Half aside. [She rings. Servants come in.] [up; Where are your brother knaves? Let all come I'll have a fete to night. Take out the bowls; The silver gilt; we sup in the purple room: I'll show his Highness plate. Fabricio, fly And hire the opera singers

[Ventoso, returning in great Agitation. Ven. Have I ears?

Victoria and Leonora approach him
soothingly.
Vic. Shall we attend you, Sir?
Leon.

Be pacified.

Ven. Stay with that mad woman! The Why, there was not a hill-top round the Bay, world's gone mad!

Princes and fêtes in old Ventoso's house?

But in our thoughts was made a monument, Inscribed with gentle memories of Love! I'll die not worth a ducat. Plague on plague! Upon yon mount our cottage should be built, [He rushes out. The Countess follow- Unmatched since Paradise;-upon the next, ing him. A beacon should be raised, to light me home Coun. Let him rave on. His wife will ma- From the Morocco wars; the third should bear nage him. [She goes out. The marble beauty of the patron saint, That watch'd me in the field

Vic. Who is this Prince?

Leon.
Be sure the man is young,
Handsome, and rich, who has so wise a taste.
Lorenzo too will suffer, 'tis revenge.

Return'd at last?

Enter SPADO.

Vic. [Indignantly]-"Twill be a deep re- Have you brought back the picture? Where venge! It shall be done.

was't found?

I'll wed this Prince, were he the lowest slave Or give it without words.
That ever bronzed beneath a Moorish sun.

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'Tis a lamp

[She points to the Window] Look!

The bridal star is lighted,

Vic. [Dejectedly]

Lit in a sepulchre.

They sing.-Trio.-(Spanish.)
TELL us, thou glorious Star of eve!
What sees thine eye?

Wherever human hearts can heave,
Man's misery!

Life, but a lengthened chain;
Youth, weary, wild and vain;
Age on a bed of pain,
Longing to die!

Yet there's a rest!

Where earthly agonies
Awake no sighs

In the cold breast.

Tell us, thou glorious Star of eve!
Sees not thine eye

Some spot, where hearts no longer heave,
In thine own sky?
Where all Life's wrongs are o'er,

Where Anguish weeps no more,
Where injur'd Spirits soar,
Never to die?

[Exeunt.

SCENE II. A chamber in LORENZO's Quarters, with a Viranda opening on the Sea. Evening. A Servant waiting. LORENZO searching among some Papers at a Table. Lor. Victoria's picture lost!-Yet how 'twas lost,

Spa.
I've ranged the city,
Ransacked the jewel mart, proclaimed the loss,
With offer of reward, throughout the streets,
Yet still it is unfound.

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[hang,

Fill all the casements, from which chaplets
And bridal banners;

Then, the companies
Of city music, in their gay chaloupes,
Play on the waters; all the square is thick
With gazing citizens.

Lor. [Musing]-Ventoso's house?
Spa. I wish 'twere burnt; there never came
a night,

This bitter week, but found me at its gate,
Shiv'ring, and singing with my gay Signior.
Lor. Torrento!
[In surprise.

Spa. Nay, I saw the lady come,
Ready to make a love march.
Lor.

Spa. [Bowing]

Lor. She could not [To Spado]

Falsehood!

Truth!

sink so deep. [Aside. When was this seen?

Spa. Twelve hours before you hired me.

Lor.

Baffles all thought; - 'twas lodged upon my The very day I landed.

heart,

Where it lay ever, my companion sweet,
Feeding my melancholy with the looks,
Whereon once lived my love.

[To the Attendant] Go, boy; take horse,
And hurry back that loiterer.

How lovely thro' those vapours soars the moon!
Like a pale spirit, casting off the shroud
As it ascends to Heaven!

[He rises, and goes to the Casement. Woman's all false. Victoria! at this hour what solemn vows, What deathless contracts, lovely hopes, rich dreams,

Were uttered in the presence of the moon!

'Twas the day,—

Woman, woman!
This was your fainting; this the secret shame,
That chok'd your voice, filled your sunk eyes
with tears,

Made your cheek burn, then take death's sud-
den hue;
This was the guilty memory, that shook
Your frame at sight of me.
[To Spado]

What did you hear? Spa. Nothing! but that some luckless, loving dog,

Some beggar suitor, some old hanger-on,
Was just kick'd out amid the general laugh.
Lor. Insult and infamy!

For what? for whom? [Half aside.

Spa. For a Magnifico-a Don of dons.
A Prince-sups there to-night.
Lor. [Musing]

And for that knave,
That prison-prince, was all their jubilee?
So much the better! When the mask's torn
off,

Twill make surprise the sharper; Shame,
more shame;

The rabble's laugh strike with a louder roar
Into their startled ears-
[To Spado]
Musing]

Some paper, Sir.

That slave shall marry her!

They run to the net
Faster than scorn could drive them.
Let them run.

[He writes, reading at intervals.
Spa. That's a love-letter-I know it, by his
being so desperately puzzled.-And I'm to be
the minister of the tender passion-the Car-
rier-dove-Cupid's postmaster-general.
Lor. "I have abandoned,”—“Marry her,”-
"Five hundred crowns more" [He rises.
This-Signior Desperado, shall revenge me;
I'll make them all a sport, a common tale!
[He folds the Letter, addresses it, and
reads.]

"To His Highness, the Prince de Pindemonté."
A sounding title, made to win the sex;
Fit bait for vanity.

[To Spado]

Take this with speed

[A distant sound of the Chorus is heard.]
He starts.]
How will Victoria bear
The sudden shames, the scorns, the miseries,
Of this wild wedlock; the companionship
Of the rude brawlers, gamblers, and loose
knaves,

That then must make her world?
[Dejectedly]
Her heart will break,
And she will perish; and my black revenge
Will thus have laid her beauty in the grave.
[Rising suddenly]—He shall not marry her.
[Calls-Is Spado there?

[The Chorus is heard more distantly.
A Servant enters.

Sero. Signior, he's gone! He left the house on the spur.

Lor. My letter! 'twill ruin all!

[Calls]

Bring me my horse.
I will unmask the plot of my revenge
And having saved her, sever the last link
That binds me to the world.

[He rushes out, the Chorus passing away.

ACT IV.

SCENE I-VENTOSO's House. A handsome Apartment; a beaufet with plate; a showy Chair in the centre. Servants are arranging the Room. LEONORA glides in.

Leon. Grand preparations! All the dancers come!

To his palazza; if the Prince be gone, Follow to Count Ventoso's. [He drops his head on the Table]-Oh, Victoria! Spa. [Takes the Letter, peeps into it]-Oh, were Torrento here! but he is lost! "Five hundred crowns."-A draft on His High-The merriest fellow that e'er woke the night ness, no doubt. I'll draw a draught on him, With the sweet music of a lover's vows. too-a draught on his cellar. When the high [A low Symphony of Horns is heard contracting parties deal in loans, the ambas- without, which continues till the Song sadors have a right to their per centage. Oh, silver sounds! whence are ye? From the thrones,

[Exit.

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That spirits make of the empurpled clouds,
Or from the sparkling waters, or the hills,
Upon whose leafy brows the evening star
Lies like a diadem! O, silver sounds!
Breathe round me till love's mother, slow-
paced Night,

Hears your deep summons in her shadowy cell.

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Then, comes to my window the sound of thy lute, my love,

Come tender tales, when its thrillings are mute, my love:

[love!

Oh, never morning smil'd
On visions bright and wild,
Such as that dark hour is bringing, my

The COUNTESS enters, followed by BERNARDO,
with plate.

Coun. Bernardo, set those cups on the
beaufet,

These tankards in the middle. [She gazes]
There's a sight!

Where are the covers? What's the man about?
Must I do all the work with my own hands?
[To another]-Bring out the bowl! Heaven
knows for what you're fed.
Bring out, I say, my mother's christening bowl.
(Saints rest the time, I seldom left it dry.)
Softly, Sir,
China's not iron. Blockhead! by my life,
I wish the world were peopled without men!
(This night will kill me.)
[To another]-Where's your master, knave?
Ven.-[Entering exultingly.]
Here, Countess! I have news for you, -the

Prince!

He's the true Phoenix!-I have heard of him
Through all the 'Change, a bird of Paradise!
A man of gold and silver! a true mine!
Lord of Calabria! I shall be a duke!
Why, he could buy the bank of Venice; sleep
Bedded on ingots; play at dice with gems,
Common as counters.-Prince de Pindemonté,
Next to the Italian throne!
Coun.

Bern. [Entering, announces]—His Highness the Prince de Pindemonté. [The Septett begins. A train of Valets, richly dressed, enter. TORRENTO, magnificently Costumed, follows, and flings himself into the Chair; the Valets ranging themselves behind.]

SEPTETT and CHORUS.

Hail! to proud Palermo's city,

Fam'd for all that's rich and rare; Fam'd for women, wise, yet pretty— Miracles-as women are.

Fam'd for churches, without slumber; Fam'd for statesmen above sale; Fam'd for judges, no law lumber; To the world's ninth wonder, hail! Prince, to proud Palermo, hail! [TORRENTO, reclining himself indolently.] Tor. Bravo! bravissimo, superb. - Begone! I'm weary of you. [The Singers retire. Showy pictures, plate, Tapestry.-'Twill do. [Aside. [To Bernardo]-Pray, fellow, who are those, Bowing beside me?

[To an Attendant]-Carlo, bring my musk.
Coun. [To Ventoso]-Address the Prince-
[Aside.

Ven.
Not I, for all the world!
Coun. Stand forth, my Lord.-The Count
Ventoso, Prince.

Ven. Most mighty! most magnificent! Coun. The man's tongue-tied! [To Ventoso]—I will address his Highness. Aside. Thanks to the stars, Most noble, puissant, and illustrious Prince, Most glorious news! I dream'd of it last night; Whose virtues, dignities, and ancient birth, Saw golden showers, proud dames and cavaliers, This day both honour and eclipse our house. All silk and diamonds. Ven. Eclipse our house! [Attempting to harangue. Tor. [Half aside] Rival orators! Honour! This moment there are ten grandees Waiting, with each an heiress in his hand; I leave them to despair. The Emperor Offered me three archduchesses at once, With provinces for portions.-I declined. Ven. [Haranguing]-This day eclipse our house!

Ven.

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Signior Stefano
Well knows the name. I thought to tell you,
love,

This new acquaintance asked himself to-night;
We must endure him; he's a gentleman,
Landed to-day from Naples, with a bond,
A debt of our late kinsman's, whose discharge
Would swallow half the estate.

Coun.
I've done with trade.
I'll have no fellows, black as their own bales,
To meet my son-in-law. [Flourish of Music.
The Prince arrived!

You must receive his Highness with a speech;
Lay on the flattery thick; trumpet his name;
Your great men have great ears.

l'en. I make a speech!

I'd take a tiger by the beard as soon.
You'll entertain his Highness. I have aches,-
The night air's bad for agues. I'm asleep:
Cannot I steal away? I hate grandees!
I've had them on my books.

Coun.
Here you must stay.
[To a Servant]-Call in the singers.

Coun.

A Grand Signior!
Tor. Aye, there's my whisker'd friend, the
A brilliant spirit, spite of Mahomet, [Ottoman,
The finest judge in Europe of champagne-
He would have given his haram, wife and all.
Ven. His wife!-a wise old Turk.

Tor.

[Aside, laughing. Where is the bride? Coun. She waits your Highness' bidding. Ven. [To the Countess] Listen, wife; No tyranny. She must not be compelled. [Aside. Coun. [To Ventoso aside]-Hold your wise tongue-if she's a child of mine, I'd make her wed a hippopotamus. [Exit. Ven. A hippopotamus! [Laughing]-Twixt son and wife

I might turn showman.

Enter SINGers. She ranges them. Now, as his Highness enters, sing the stave You sang for the King's entry. Sing it out; I'll have no whisperings for my money. [Flourish of Clarinets and Horns outside.] "His Highness the Prince de Pindemonte" Count-a Tintoret? is announced by successive, Servants outside.

Tor. [Advances towards a Picture] A
noble picture,

Ven. Some martyrdom, or marriage — all
the same.
[Aside.

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