Chapter 3

EnterCarlos l.,followed byVictoria,unveiled.

Car.[Looking back on her.] My wife!

Vict.Oh, Heavens! I will veil myself again. I will hide my face for ever from you, if you will still feast my ears with those soft vows, which, a moment since, you poured forth so eagerly.

Car.My wife!—making love to my own wife!

Vict.Why should one of the dearest moments of my life be to you so displeasing?

Car.So, I am caught in this snare, by way of agreeable surprise, I suppose.

Vict.'Would you could think it so!

Car.No, madam! by Heaven, 'tis a surprise fatal to every hope with which you may have flattered yourself. What! am I to be followed, haunted, watched!

Vict.Not to upbraid you. I followed you because my castle, without you, seemed a dreary desert. Indeed, I will never upbraid you.

Car.Generous assurance! never upbraid me—no, by Heavens! I'll take care you never shall. She has touched my soul, but I dare not yield to the impression. Her softness is worse than death to me! [Aside.]

Vict.'Would I could find words to please you!

Car.You cannot; therefore leave me, or suffer me to go, without attempting to follow me.

Vict.Is it possible you can be so barbarous?

Car.Do not expostulate; your first vowed duty is obedience—that word so grating to your sex.

Vict.To me it was never grating; to obey you has been my joy; even now, I will not dispute your will, though I feel, for the first time, obedience hateful. [Going, and then turning back.] Oh, Carlos! my dear Carlos! I go, but my soul remains with you.

[Exit,l.

Car.Oh, horrible! had I not taken this harsh measure, I must have killed myself; for how could I tell her that I have made her a beggar? better she should hate, detest me, than that my tenderness should give her a prospect of felicity, which now she can never taste. Oh, wine-created spirit! where art thou now? Madness, return to me again! for reason presents me nothing but despair.

EnterJulio,from the top,r. u. e.

Julio.Carlos, who the devil can they be? my charming little witch was inflexible. I hope yours has been more communicative.

Car.Folly! Nonsense!

Julio.Folly! Nonsense! What, a pretty woman's smile!—but you married fellows have neither taste nor joy.

Car.Pshaw!

[Crosses, and exit,r.

Julio.Pshaw! that's a husband! Humph—suppose my fair one should want to debase me into such an animal; she can't have so much villany in her disposition: and yet, if she should? pho! it won't bear thinking about. If I do so mad a thing, it must be as cowards fight, without daring to reflect on the danger.

[Exit,r.

SCENE III.—An Apartment in the house ofDon Vasquez, Marcella'sFather.EnterDon CæsarandDon Vasquez, l.

Cæsar.Well, Don Vasquez, and a——you——then I say, you have a mind that I should marry your daughter?

Vasq.It is sufficient, signor, that you have signified to us your intention—my daughter shall prove her gratitude, in her attention to your felicity.

Cæsar.Egad, now it comes to the push! [Aside.] hem, hem!—but just nineteen, you say?

Vasq.Exactly, the eleventh of last month.

Cæsar.Pity it was not twenty.

Vasq.Why, a year can make no difference, I should think.

Cæsar.O, yes it does; a year's a great deal; they are so skittish at nineteen.

Vasq.Those who are skittish at nineteen, I fear, you won't find much mended at twenty. Marcella is very grave, and a pretty little, plump, fair——

Cæsar.Ay, fair again! pity she isn't brown, or olive—I like your olives.

Vasq.Brown and olive! you are very whimsical, my old friend!

Cæsar.Why, these fair girls are so stared at by the men; and the young fellows, now-a-days, have a damned impudent stare with them—'tis very abashing to a woman—very distressing!

Vasq.Yes, so it is; but happily their distress is of that nature, that it generally goes off in a simper. But come, I'll send Marcella to you, and she will—

[Crosses,r.

Cæsar.No, no; stay, my good friend. [Gasping.] You are in a violent hurry!

Vasq.Why, truly, signor, at our time of life, when we determine to marry, we have no time to lose.

Cæsar.Why, that's very true, and so—oh! St. Antony, now it comes to the point—but there can be no harm in looking at her—a look won't bind us for better for worse. [Aside.] Well, then, if you have a mind, I say, you may let me see her.

[ExitVasquez, r.

[Cæsar puts on his spectacles.] Ay, here she comes—I hear her—trip, trip, trip! I don't like that step. A woman should always tread steadily, with dignity, it awes the men.

EnterVasquez,leadingMarcella, r.

Vasq.There, Marcella, behold your future husband; and remember, that your kindness to him will be the standard of your duty to me.

[Exit,r.

Mar.Oh, Heavens! [Aside.]

Cæsar.Somehow, I am afraid to look round.

Mar.Surely he does not know that I am here! [Coughs gently.]

Cæsar.So, she knows how to give an item, I find.

Mar.Pray, signor, have you any commands for me?

Cæsar.Hum!—not nonpluss'd at all! [Looks around.] Oh! that eye, I don't like that eye.

Mar.My father commanded me——

Cæsar.Yes, I know—I know. [To her.] Why, now I look again, there is a sort of a modest—Oh, that smile; that smile will never do. [Aside.]

Mar.I understand, signor, that you have demanded my hand in marriage.

Cæsar.Upon my word, plump to the point! [Aside.] Yes, I did a sort of—I can't say but that I did——

Mar.I am not insensible of the honour you do me, sir, but—but——

Cæsar.But!—What, don't you like the thoughts of the match?

Mar.Oh, yes, sir, yes—exceedingly. I dare not say no. [Aside.]

Cæsar.Oh, you do—exceedingly! What, I suppose, child, your head is full of jewels, and finery, and equipage? [With ill humour.]

Mar.No, indeed, sir.

Cæsar.No, what then? what sort of a life do you expect to lead, when you are my wife? what pleasures d'ye look forward to?

Mar.None.

Cæsar.Hey!

Mar.I shall obey my father, sir; I shall marry you; but I shall be most wretched! [Weeps.]

Cæsar.Indeed!

Mar.There is not a fate I would not prefer;—but pardon me!

Cæsar.Go on, go on, I never was better pleased.

Mar.Pleased at my reluctance!

Cæsar.Never, never better pleased in my life;—so you had really, now, you young baggage, rather have me for a grandfather, than a husband?

Mar.Forgive my frankness, sir—a thousand times!

Cæsar.My dear girl, let me kiss your hand.—Egad! you've let me off charmingly. I was frightened out of my wits, lest you should have taken as violent an inclination to the match, as your father has.

Mar.Dear sir, you charm me.

Cæsar.But harkye!—you'll certainly incur your father's anger, if I don't take the refusal entirely on myself, which I will do, if you'll only assist me in a little business I have in hand.

Mar.Any thing to show my gratitude.

Cæsar.You must know, I can't get my daughter to marry; there's nothing on earth will drive her to it, but the dread of a mother-in-law. Now, if you will let it appear to her, that you and I are driving to the goal of matrimony, I believe it will do—what say you? shall we be lovers in play?

Mar.If you are sure it will be only in play.

Cæsar.Oh, my life upon't—but we must be very fond, you know.

Mar.To be sure—exceedingly tender; ha! ha! ha!

Cæsar.You must smile upon me, now and then, roguishly; and slide your hand into mine, when you are sure she sees you, and let me pat your cheek, and——

Mar.Oh, no farther, pray; that will be quite sufficient.

Cæsar.Gad, I begin to take a fancy to your rogue's face, now I'm in no danger; mayn't we—mayn't we salute sometimes, it will seem infinitely more natural.

Mar.Never! such an attempt would make me fly off at once.

Cæsar.Well, you must be lady governess in this business. I'll go home now, and fret madam, about her young mother-in-law—by'e, sweeting!

Mar.By'e, charmer!

Cæsar.Oh, bless its pretty eyes!

[Exit,l.

Mar.Bless its pretty spectacles! ha! ha! ha! enter into a league with a cross old father against a daughter! why, how could he suspect me capable of so much treachery? I could not answer it to my conscience. No, no, I'll acquaint Donna Olivia with the plot: and, as in duty bound, we'll turn our arms against Don Cæsar.

[Exit,r.

ACT IV.SCENE I.—Donna Laura's.EnterDonna LauraandPedro, r.

Laura.Well, Pedro, hast thou seen Don Florio?

Ped.Yes, Donna.

Laura.How did he look when he read my letter?

Ped.Mortal well; I never see'd him look better—he'd got a new cloak, and a——

Laura.Pho, blockhead! did he look pleased? did he kiss my name? did he press the billet to his bosom with all the warmth of love?

Ped.No, he didn't warm in that way; but he did another, for he put it into the fire.

Laura.How!

Ped.Yes, when I spoke, he started, for, I think, he had forgot that I was by—So, says he, go home and tell Donna Laura, I fly to her presence.

[She waves her hand for him to go.

Laura.Is it possible? so contemptuously to destroy the letter, in which my whole heart overflowed with tenderness! Oh, how idly I talk! he is here: his very voice pierces my heart! I dare not meet his eye, thus discomposed!

[Exit,r.

EnterVictoria, l.,in men's clothes,preceded bySancha.

San.I will inform my mistress that you are here, Don Florio; I thought she had been in this apartment.

[Exit,l.

Vict.Now must I, with a mind torn by anxieties, once more assume the lover of my husband's mistress—of the woman, who has robbed me of his heart, and his children of their fortune. Sure, my task is hard. Oh, love! Oh, married love, assist me! If I can, by any art, obtain from her that fatal deed, I shall save my little ones from ruin, and then—But I hear her step. [Agitated, pressing her hand on her bosom.]—There! I have hid my griefs within my heart, and, now for all the impudence of an accomplished cavalier! [Sings an air, sets her hat in the glass, dances a few steps, &c. then runs toLaura, r.,and seizes her hand.] My lovely Laura!

Laura.That look speaks Laura loved, as well as lovely.

Vict.To be sure! Petrarch immortalized his Laura by his verses, and mine shall be immortal in my passion.

Laura.Oh, Florio, how deceitful! I know not what enchantment binds me to thee.

Vict.Me! my dear! is all this to me?

[Playing carelessly with the feather in her hat.

Laura.Yes, ingrate, thee!

Vict.Positively, Laura, you have these extravagancies so often, I wonder my passion can stand them. To be plain, those violences in your temper may make a pretty relief in the flat of matrimony, child, but they do not suit that state of freedom which is necessary to my happiness. It was by such destructive arts as these you cured Don Carlos of his love.

Laura.Cured Don Carlos! Oh, Florio! wert thou but as he is?

Vict.Why, you don't pretend he loves you still? [Eagerly.]

Laura.Yes, most ardently and truly.

Vict.Hah!

Laura.If thou wouldst persuade me that thy passion is real, borrow his words, his looks: be a hypocrite one dear moment, and speak to me in all the frenzy of that love which warms the heart of Carlos!

Vict.The heart of Carlos!

Laura.Hah, that seemed a jealous pang—it gives my hopes new life. [Aside.] Yes, Florio, he, indeed, knows what it is to love. For me he forsook a beauteous wife; nay, and with me he would forsake his country.

Vict.Villain! Villain!

Laura.Nay, let not the thought distress you thus—Carlos I despise—he is the weakest of mankind.

Vict.'Tis false, madam, you cannot despise him. Carlos the weakest of mankind! Heavens! what woman could resist him? Persuasion sits on his tongue, and love, almighty love, triumphant in his eyes!

Laura.This is strange; you speak of your rival with the admiration of a mistress.

Vict.Laura! it is the fate of jealousy as well as love, to see the charms of its object, increased and heightened. I am jealous—jealous to distraction, of Don Carlos; and cannot taste peace, unless you'll swear never to see him more.

Laura.I swear, joyfully swear, never to behold or speak to him again. When, dear youth, shall we retire to Portugal?—We are not safe here.

Vict.You know I am not rich.—You must first sell the lands my rival gave you.

[Observing her with apprehension.

Laura.'Tis done—I have found a purchaser, and to-morrow the transfer will be finished.

Vict.[Aside.] Ah! I have now, then, nothing to trust to but the ingenuity of Gasper. There is reason to fear Don Carlos had no right in that estate, with which you supposed yourself endowed.

Laura.No right! what could have given you those suspicions?

Vict.A conversation with Juan, his steward, who assures me his master never had an estate in Leon.

Laura.Never! what, not by marriage?

Vict.Juan says so.

Laura.My blood runs cold; can I have taken pains to deceive myself?—Could I think so, I should be mad!

Vict.These doubts may soon be annihilated, or confirmed to certainty.—I have seen Don Sancho, the uncle of Victoria; he is now in Madrid.—You have told me that he once professed a passion for you.

Laura.Oh, to excess; but at that time I had another object.

Vict.Have you conversed with him much?

Laura.I never saw him nearer than from my balcony, where he used to ogle me through a glass, suspended by a ribbon, like an order of knighthood; he is weak enough to fancy it gives him an air of distinction—Ha! ha! But where can I find him? I must see him.

Vict.Write him a billet, and I will send it to his lodgings.

Laura.Instantly—Dear Florio, a new prospect opens to me—Don Sancho is rich and generous; and, by playing on his passions, his fortune may be a constant fund to us.—I'll dip my pen in flattery.

[Exit,r.

Vict.Base woman! how can I pity thee, or regret the steps which my duty obliges me to take? For myself, I would not swerve from the nicest line of rectitude, nor wear the shadow of deceit. But, for my children!—Is there a parental heart that will not pardon me?

[Exit,r.

SCENE II.—Don Cæsar's.EnterOliviaandMinette, r.

Oliv.Well, here we are in private—what is this charming intelligence of which thou art so full this morning?

Min.Why, ma'am, as I was in the balcony that overlooks Don Vasquez's garden, Donna Marcella told me, that Don Cæsar had last night been to pay her a visit previous to their marriage, and—

Oliv.Their marriage! How can you give me the intelligence with such a look of joy? Their marriage!—what will become of me?

Min.Dear ma'am! if you'll but have patience.—She says that, Don Cæsar and she are perfectly agreed—

Oliv.Still with that smirking face?—I can't have patience.

Min.Then, madam, if you won't let me tell the story, please to read it——Here's a letter from Donna Marcella.

Oliv.Why did you not give it me at first? [Reads.]

Min.Because I didn't like to be cut out of my story. If orators were obliged to come to the point at once, mercy on us! what tropes and figures we should lose!

Oliv.Oh, Minette! I give you leave to smirk again—listen. [Reads.]I am more terrified at the idea of becoming your father's wife, than you are in expectation of a stepmother; and Don Cæsar would be as loath as either of us.—He only means to frighten you into matrimony, and I have, on certain conditions, agreed to assist him; but, whatever you may hear, or see, be assured that nothing is so impossible, as that he should become the husband of Donna Marcella.—Oh, delightful girl! how I love her for this!

Min.Yes, ma'am; and if you'd had patience, I should have told you that she's now here with Don Cæsar, in grave debate how to begin the attack; which must force you to take shelter in the arms of a husband.

Oliv.Ah, no matter how they begin it. Let them amuse themselves in raising batteries; my reserved fire shall tumble them about their ears, in the moment my poor father is singing his Io's for victory.—But here come the lovers—Well, I protest now, sixteen and sixty is a very comely sight.—'Tis contrast gives effect to every thing.—Lud! how my father ogles! I had no idea he was such a sort of man. I am really afraid he isn't quite so good as he should be!

EnterDon Cæsar,leadingMarcella, l.

Cæsar.H—um! Madam looks very placid; we shall discompose her, or I am mistaken. [Apart.] So, Olivia, here's Donna Marcella come to visit you—though, as matters are, that respect is due from you.

Oliv.I am sensible of the condescension. My dear ma'am, how very good this is! [Taking her hand.]

Cæsar.Yes, you'll think yourself wonderfully obliged, when you know all! [Aside.] Pray, Donna Marcella, what do you think of these apartments?—The furniture and decorations are my daughter's taste; would you wishthemto remain, or will you give orders to have them changed?

Mar.Changed, undoubtedly; I can have nobody's taste govern my apartments but my own.

Cæsar.Ah that touches!—See how she looks!—[Apart.] They shall receive your orders.—You understand, I suppose, from this, that every thing is fixed on between Donna Marcella and me?

Oliv.Yes, sir; I understand it perfectly; and it gives me infinite pleasure.

Cæsar.Eh! pleasure?

Oliv.Entirely, sir——

Cæsar.Tol-de-rol! Ah, that wont do—that wont do! You can't hide it.—You are frightened out of your wits at the thoughts of a mother-in-law; especially a young, gay, handsome one.

Oliv.Pardon me, sir; the thought of a mother-in-law was indeed disagreeable; but her being young and gay qualifies it.——I hope, ma'am, you'll give us balls, and the most spirited parties. [Crosses,c.] You can't think how stupid we have been. My dear father hates those things; but I hope now—

Cæsar.Hey! hey! hey! what's the meaning of all this? Why, hussy, don't you know you'll have no apartment but the garret?

Oliv.That will benefit my complexion, sir, by mending my health. 'Tis charming to sleep in an elevated situation.

Cæsar.Here! here's an obstinate perverse slut!

Oliv.Bless me, sir, are you angry that I look forward to your marriage without murmuring?

Cæsar.Yes, I am—yes, I am; you ought to murmur; and you ought to—to—to——

Oliv.Dear me! I find love, taken up late in life, has a bad effect on the temper.—I wish, my dear papa, you had felt the influence of Donna Marcella's charms somewhat sooner.

Cæsar.You do! you do! why this must be all put on.—This can't be real.

Oliv.Indeed, indeed it is; and I protest, your engagement with this lady has given me more pleasure than I have tasted ever since you began to tease me about a husband. You seem determined to have a marriage in the family; and I hope, now, I shall live in quiet, with my dear, sweet, young mother-in-law.

Cæsar.Oh! oh! [Walking about.] Was there ever—[Crosses,c.] She doesn't care for a mother-in-law!—Can't frighten her!

Oliv.Sure, my fate is very peculiar; that being pleased with your choice, and submitting, with humble duty, to your will, should be the cause of offence.

Cæsar.Hussy! I don't want you to be pleased with my choice—I don't want you to submit with humble duty to my will.—Where I do want you to submit, you rebel: you are a—you are——But I'll mortify that wayward spirit, yet.

[ExitDon CæsarandMarcella, r.

Min.Well, really, my master is in a piteous passion; he seems more angry at your liking his marriage, than at your refusing to be married yourself.——Wouldn't it have been better, madam, to have affected discontent?

Oliv.To what purpose, but to lay myself open to fresh solicitations, in order to get rid of the evil I pretended to dread? Bless us! nothing can be more easy than for my father to be gratified, if he were but lucky in the choice of a lover.

Min.As much as to say, madam, that there is—

Oliv.Why, yes, as much as to say—I see you are resolved to have my secret, Minette, and so—

EnterServant, l.

Serv.There is a gentleman at the door, madam, called Don Julio de Melessina. He waits on you from Don Vincentio.

Oliv.Who? Don Julio! it cannot be—art thou sure of his name?

Serv.The servant repeated it twice. He is in a fine carriage, and seems to be a nobleman.

Oliv.Conduct him hither. [ExitServant, l.] I am astonished! I cannot see him! I would not have him know the incognita to be Olivia, for worlds!—There is but one way. [Aside.] Minette, ask no questions; but do as I order you.—Receive Don Julio in my name; call yourself the heiress of Don Cæsar; and on no account suffer him to believe that you are any thing else.

[Exit,r.

Min.So, then, this is some new lover she is determined to disgust; and fancies, that making me pass for her will complete it. Perhaps her ladyship may be mistaken though.—[Looking through the wing.]—Upon my word a sweet man! Oh, lud! my heart beats at the very idea of his making love to me, even though he takes me for another! Stay! I think he shan't find me here. Standing in the middle of a room gives one's appearance no effect. I'll enter upon him with an easy swim, or an engaging trip, or a—something that shall strike—the first glance is every thing.

[Exit,r.

EnterDon Julio, l.,preceded by aServant,who retires,r.

Julio.Not here! The ridiculous dispute between Garcia and Vincentio gives me irresistible curiosity; though, if she is the character Garcia describes, I expect to be cuffed for my impertinence.—Here she comes!—A pretty, smiling girl, 'faith, for a vixen!

EnterMinette, r.,very affectedly.

Min.Sir, your most obedient humble servant.—You are Don Julio de Melessina. I am extremely glad to see you, sir.

Julio.[Aside.] A very courteous reception!—You honour me infinitely, madam. I must apologize for waiting on you without a better introduction. Don Vincentio promised to attend me; but a concert called him to another part of the town, at the moment I prepared to come hither.

Min.A concert—Yes, sir, he is very fond of music.

Julio.He is, madam:—You, I suppose, have a passion for that charming science?

Min.Oh, yes, I love it mightily.

Julio.[Aside.] This is lucky! I think I have heard, Donna Olivia, that your taste that way is peculiar; you are fond of a——'faith, I can hardly speak it, [Aside.]—of a——Jew's-harp. [Smothering a laugh.]

Min.A Jew's-harp! Mercy! What, do you think a person of my birth and figure, can have such fancies as that?——No, sir, I love fiddles, French horns, tabors, and all the cheerful, noisy instruments in the world.

Julio.[Aside.] Vincentio must have been mad; and I as mad as he, to mention it. Then you are fond of concerts, madam?

Min.Dote on them! I wish he'd offer me a ticket. [Aside.]

Julio.[Aside.] Vincentio is clearly wrong.—Now to prove how far the other was right, in supposing her a vixen.

Min.There is a grand public concert, sir, to be to-morrow. Pray, do you go?

Julio.I believe I shall have that pleasure, madam.

Min.My father, Don Cæsar, won't let me purchase a ticket: I think it's very hard.

Julio.Pardon me—I think it's perfectly right.

Min.Right! what, to refuse me a trifling expense, that would procure me a great pleasure?

Julio.Yes, doubtless—the ladies are too fond of pleasure: I think Don Cæsar is exemplary.

Min.Lord, sir! you'd think it very hard, if you were me, to be locked up all your life; and know nothing of the world but what you could catch through the bars of your balcony.

Julio.Perhaps I might; but, as a man, I am convinced 'tis right. Daughters and wives should be equally excluded those destructive haunts of dissipation. Let them keep to their embroidery, nor ever presume to show their faces but at their own firesides.——This will bring out the Xantippe, surely! [Aside.]

Min.Well, sir, I don't know—to be sure, home, as you say, is the fittest place for women. For my part, I could live for ever at home. I am determined he shall have his way; who knows what may happen? [Aside.]

Julio.[Aside.] By all the powers of caprice, Garcia is as wrong as the other!

Min.I delight in nothing so much as in sitting by my father, and hearing his tales of old times; and I fancy, when I have a husband, I shall be more happy to sit and listen to his stories of present times.

Julio.Perhaps your husband, fair lady, might not be inclined so to amuse you. Men have a thousand delights that call them abroad; and probably your chief amusements would be counting the hours of his absence, and giving a tear to each as it passed.

Min.Well, he should never see them, however. I would always smile when he entered; and if he found my eyes red, I'd say, I had been weeping over the history of the unfortunate damsel, whose true love hung himself at sea, and appeared to her after wards in a wet jacket.—Sure, this will do! [Aside.]

Julio.I am every moment more astonished. Pray, madam, permit me a question. Are you, really—yet I cannot doubt it—are you, really, Donna Olivia, the daughter of Don Cæsar, to whom Don Garcia and Don Vincentio had lately the honour of paying their addresses?

Min.Am I Donna Olivia! ha! ha! ha! what a question! Pray, sir, is this my father's house?—Are you Don Julio?

Julio.I beg your pardon; but, to confess, I had heard you described as a lady who had not quite so much sweetness, and——

Min.Oh! what, you had heard that I was a termagant, I suppose.—'Tis all slander, sir: there is not in Madrid, though I say it, a sweeter temper than my own; and though I have refused a good many lovers, yet, if one was to offer himself that I could like—

Julio.You would take pity, and reward his passion.

Min.I would.

Julio.Lovely Donna Olivia, how charming is this frankness!—'Tis a little odd, though! [Aside.]

Min.Why, I believe I should take pity: for it always seemed to me to be very hard-hearted, to be cruel to a lover that one likes, because, in that case, one should—a—you know, sir, the sooner the affair is over, the better for both parties.

Julio.What the deuce does she mean?—Is this Garcia's sour fruit?

Cæsar.[Without,r.] Olivia! Olivia!

Min.Bless me, I hear my father! Now, sir, I have a particular fancy that you should not tell him, in this first visit, your design.

Julio.Madam, my design!

Min.Yes, that you will not speak out, till we have had a little further conversation, which I'll take care to give you an opportunity for very soon. He'll be here in a moment: now, pray, Don Julio, go. If he should meet you, and ask who you are, you can say, that you are—you may say, that you came on a visit to my maid, you know.

[Exit,r.

Julio.I thank you, madam, [Aloud.] for my dismission. [Aside.] I never was in such a peril in my life. I believe she has a license in her pocket, a priest in her closet, and the ceremony by heart.

[Exit.

ACT V.SCENE I.—Don Carlos's. Don Carlosdiscovered writing.

Car.[Tearing paper, and rising.] It is in vain!—Language cannot furnish me with terms, to soften to Victoria the horrid transaction. Could she see the compunctions of my soul, her gentle heart would pity me. But what then?—She's ruined! my children are undone! Oh! the artifices of one base woman, and my villany to another most amiable one, have made me unfit to live. I am a wretch, who ought to be blotted from society.

EnterPedro,hastily,l.

Ped.Sir—sir!

Car.Well!

Ped.Sir, I have just met Don Florio; he asked if my mistress was at home; so I guesses he is going to our house, and so I run to let you know—for I loves to keep my promises, though I am deadly afraid of some mischief.

Car.You have done well.—Go home, and wait for me at the door, and admit me without noise. [ExitPedro, l.] At least, then, I shall have the pleasure of revenge; I'll punish that harlot, by sacrificing her paramour in her arms; and then—Oh!

[Exit,l.

SCENE II.—Donna Laura's.EnterLaura, l.,with precipitation, followed byVictoria.

Laura.'Tis his carriage!—How successful was my letter! This, my Florio, is a most important moment.

Vict.It is, indeed; and I will leave you to make every advantage of it. [Crosses,r.] If I am present, I must witness condescensions from you, that I shall not be able to bear, though I know them to be but affected.—Now, Gasper, [Aside.] play thy part well, and save Victoria!

[Exit,r.

EnterGasper, l.dressed as an old Beau; twoServantsfollow him, and take off a rich cloak.

Gasp.Take my cloak; and, d'ye hear, Ricardo, go home and bring the eider-down cushions for the coach, and tell the fellow not to hurry me post through the streets of Madrid. [ExeuntServants, l.] I have been jolted from side to side, like a pippin in a mill stream. Drive a man of my rank, as he would a city vintner and his fat wife, going to a bull fight! Ha, there she is! [Looking through a glass, suspended by a red ribbon.]—there she is! Charming Donna Laura! let me thus at the shrine of your beauty—[Makes an effort to kneel, and falls on his face;Lauraassists him to rise.] Fie, fie, those new shoes!—they have made me skate all day, like a Dutchman on a canal; and now—Well, you see how profound my adoration is, madam. Common lovers kneel; I was prostrate.

Laura.You do me infinite honour.——Disgustful wretch!—You are thinner than you were, Don Sancho: I protest, now I observe you, you are much altered!

Gasp.Ay, madam—fretting. Your absence threw me into a fever, and that destroyed my bloom:—You see, I look almost a middle-aged man, now.

Laura.No, really; far from it, I assure you.——The fop is as wrinkled as a baboon! [Aside.]

Gasp.Then jealousy—that gave me a jaundice.—My niece's husband, I hear, Don Carlos, has been my happy rival. Oh, my blade will hardly keep in its scabbard, when I think of him.

Laura.Think no more of him—he has been long banished my thoughts, be assured. I wonder you gave your niece to him, with such a fortune.

Gasp.Gave! she gave herself; and, as to fortune, she had not a pistole from me.

Laura.'Twas, indeed, unnecessary, with so fine an estate as she had in Leon.

Gasp.My niece an estate in Leon! Not enough to give shelter to a field-mouse; and if he has told you so, he is a braggart.

Laura.Told me so—I have the writings; he has made over the lands to me.

Gasp.Made over the lands to you!—Oh, a deceiver! I begin to suspect a plot. Pray, let me see this extraordinary deed. [She runs to a Cabinet,d. f.] A plot, I'll be sworn!

Laura.Here is the deed which made that estate mine for ever. No, sir, I will intrust it in no hand but my own. Yet look over me, and read the description of the lands.

Gasp.[Reading through his glass.] H—m—m—.In the vicinage of Rosalvo, bounded on the west by the river——h—m—m, on the east by the forest——Oh, an artful dog! I need read no further; I see how the thing is.

Laura.How, sir!—but hold——Stay a moment—I am breathless with fear.

Gasp.Nay, madam, don't be afraid! 'Tis my estate—that's all; the very castle where I was born; and which I never did, nor ever will, bestow on any Don in the two Castiles. Dissembling rogue! Bribe you with a fictitious title to my estate—ha! ha! ha!

Laura.[Aside.] Curses follow him! The villain I employed must have been his creature; his reluctance all art; and, whilst I believed myself undoing him, was duped myself!

Gasp.Could you suppose I'd give Carlos such an estate for running away with my niece? No, no; the vineyards, and the cornfields, and the woods of Rosalvo, are not for him.—I've somebody else in my eye—in my eye, observe me—to give those to:—Can't you guess who it is?

Laura.No, indeed!—He gives me a glimmering that saves me from despair! [Aside.]

Gasp.I won't tell you, unless you'll bribe me—I won't indeed. [Kisses her cheek.] There, now I'll tell you—they are all for you. Yes, this estate, to which you have taken such a fancy, shall be yours.—I'll give you the deeds, if you'll promise to love me, you little, cruel thing!

Laura.Can you be serious?

Gasp.I'll sign and seal to-morrow.

Laura.Noble Don Sancho! Thus, then, I annihilate the proof of his perfidy, and my weakness.—Thus I tear to atoms his detested name; and as I tread on these, so would I on his heart.

EnterVictoria, r.

Vict.My children then are saved! [In transport.]

Laura.[Apart.] Oh, Florio, 'tis as thou saidst—Carlos was a villain, and deceived me.—Why this strange air? Ah, I see the cause—you think me ruined, and will abandon me. Yes, I see it in thy averted face; thou dar'st not meet my eyes. If I misjudge thee, speak!

Vict.Laura, I cannot speak.—You little guess the emotions of heart.—Heaven knows, I pity you!

Laura.Pity! Oh, villain! and has thy love already snatched the form of pity? Base, deceitful——

Car.[Without.] Stand off; loose your weak hold; I'm come for vengeance!

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