Ped. Master, to be like you, do let me give you one kick.

Don Fer. What!

[Aside to FERNANDO.

Ped. Why, I won't hurt you much.

Don Fer. I'll break your bones, you villain.

Ped. Ahem! Tol de rol.

Don Scipio. Pedrillo !

Ped. Sir?

[Forgetting himself.•

Don Fer. [Apart.] What are you at, you rascal? Ped. Ay, what are you at, you rascal ? avoid! Don Fer. I'm gone, sir. [Exit. Ped. Cursed ill-natured of him, not to let me give him one kick.

[Aside. Don Scipio. Don Fernando, I like you vastly. Ped. So you ought.-Tol de rol.-Who could now suspect me to be the son of a tailor, and that, four hours ago, I was a footman? [Aside.] Tol de rol.

Don Scipio. Son-in-law, you're a flaming beau !Egad, you have a princely person.

Ped. All the young girls whenever I got behind -Inside of a coach, All the ladies of distinction, whether they were making their beds, or dressing the dressing themselves at the toilette, would run to the windows,-peep through their fingers, their fans I mean, simper behind their handkerchiefs, and lisp out in the softest, sweetest tones, "Oh, dear me, upon my honour and reputation, there is not such a beautiful gentleman in the world, as this same Don Pedrill-Fernando."

Don Scipio. Ha! ha! ha! can't forget Pedrillo.But come, ha' done with your Pedrillos now-be yourself, son-in-law.

Ped: Yes, I will be yourself, son-in-law, you are sure of that honour, Don Scipio; but pray, what fortune am I to have with your daughter? You are a grey-headed old fellow, Don Scipio, and by the course of nature, you know, you cannot live long.

Don Scipio. Pardon me, sir, I don't know any such thing.

Ped. So when we put a stone upon your head-
Don Scipio. Put a stone upon my head!

Ped. Yes, when you are settled-screwed down,
I shall have your daughter to maintain, you know.
Don Scipio. [Aside.] A narrow-minded spark!
Ped. Not that I would think much of that, I am
so generous.

Don Scipio. Yes, generous as a Dutch usurer!

[Aside. Ped. The truth is, Don Scipio, I was always a smart young gentleman. [Dances and sings.

Don Scipio. A hey! Since Don Fernando turns out to be such a coxcomb, 'faith, I am not sorry that my own child has escaped him :-A convent itself is better than a marriage with a monkey.-The poor thing's fortune though!-And then my son-I begin now to think I was too hard upon Cæsar-to compare him with this puppy-but I must forget my children, Dame Isabel will have me upon no other [Aside Ped. D'ye hcar, Don Scipio, let us have a plentiful feast.

terms.

Don Scipio. Was ever such a conceited, empty, impudent

[Exit:

Ped. Yes, I'm a capital fellow, ha! ha! So my fool of a master sets his wits to work after a poor girl, that, I am told, they are packing into a convent, and he dresses me up as himself, to carry the rich Italian heiress, Donna Victoria-Well, I'm not a capital fellow; but I was made for a gentlemangentleman! I'm the neat pattern for a lord-I have a little honour about me a bit of love too; ay, and a scrap of courage, perhaps hem! I wish I'd a rival to try it though-od, I think I could fight at any weapon, from a needle to a hatchet:

Enter PHILIPPO, with a Letter and Basket.

Phil. Signor, are you Don Fernando de Zelva? Ped. Yes, boy.

Phil. Here's a letter for you, sir, from Don Alphonso.

Ped. I don't know any Don Alphonso, boy. What's the letter about?

Phil. I think, sir, 'tis to invite you to a feast.

Ped. A feast!—Oh, I recollect now-Don Alphonso, what! my old acquaintance! give it me, boy.

Phil. But, are you sure, sir, you're Don Fernando? Ped. Sure, you dog! don't you think I know myself?-let's see, let's see-[Opens the Letter, and reads.} Signor, though you seem ready to fall on to a love-feast, I hope a small repast in the field won't spoil your stomach-Oh, this is only a snack before supper-I shall be at six o'clock this evening-You dog, it's past six now-in the meadow, near the cottage of the vines, where I expect you'll meet me-Oh, dear I shall be too late! As you aspire to Donna Victoria, your sword must be long enough to reach my heart, Alphonso. My sword long enough! [Frightened.] Oh, the devil !— Feast! Zounds, this is a downright challenge!

Phil. I beg your pardon, signor, but if I hadn't met my sweetheart, Catilina, you would have had that letter two hours ago.

Ped. Oh, you have given it time enough, my brave boy.

it.

Phil. Well, sir, you'll come?

Ped. Eh? Yes, I dare say he ll come.

Phil. He!

Ped. Yes, I'll give it him, my brave boy.

Phil. Him! Sir, didn't you say you were.

Ped. Never fear, child, Don Fernando shall have

Phil. Why, sir, an't you Don Fernando?

Ped. Me! not I, child-no, no, I'm not Fernando, but, my boy, I would go to the feast, but you have delayed the letter so long, that I have quite lost my stomach-Go, my fine boy.

Phil. Sir, I

Ped. Go along, child, go! [Pats PHILIPPO off.] however, Don Fernando shall attend you-but here comes my sposa

Enter LORENZA, reading a Letter.

Dearest LOREnza,

By accident I heard of your being in the castleIf you don't wish to be the instrument of your mother's imposition, an impending blow, which means you no harm, this night shall discover an important secret, relative to him, who desires to resign even life itself, if not your

RAMIREZ.

My love! [Kisses the Letter.] I wish to be nothing, if not your Lorenza; this foolish Fernando! [Looking at PEDRILLO.] but, ha! ha! ha! I'll amuse myself with him-looks tolerably now he's dressed-not so agreeable as my discarded lover Alphonso, though, [Aside,

Ped. I'll accost her with elegance-How do you

do, signora?

Lor. Very well, sir, at your service.-Dresses exactly like Prince Radifocani.

Ped. Now I'll pay her a fine compliment-Signora, you're a clever little body-Will you sit down, signora ? [Hands a Chair.

Lor. So polite too!

Ped. Oh, I admire politeness.

[Sits. Lor. This would not be good manners in Florence, though.

Ped. Oh! [Rises.] I beg pardon-Well, sit in that

chair; I'll assure you, Donna Victoria, I don't grudge a little trouble for the sake of good manners. [Places another Chair. Lor. Voi cette motto gentile. [Courtesies. Ped. Yes, I sit on my seat genteelly-I find I understand a good deal of Italian-Now to court her, hem! hem! what shall I say? Hang it, I wish my master had gone through the whole business, to the very drawing of the curtains.-I believe I ought to kneel though-[Aside.-Kneels.]-Oh, you most beautiful goddess, you angelic angel! [Repeats.

For you, my fair, I'd be a rose,

To bloom beneath that comely nose ;
Or, you the flower, and I the bee,
My sweets I'd sip from none but thee.
Was I a pen, you paper white,
Ye gods, what billet-doux I'd write!
My lips the seal, what am'rous smacks
I'd print on yours, if sealing-wax.
No more I'll
say, you stop my breath,
My only life, you'll be my death.

Well said, little Pedrillo !

[Rises.

[Wipes his Knees. Lor. There is something in Don Fernando's passion extremely tender, though romantic and extravagant.

Ped. Oh, for some sweet sounds, signora! if you'll sing me a song, I'll stay and hear it, I'm so civil. Lor. With pleasure, sir.

AIR XVIII. LORENZA.

Heart beating,

Repeating,

Vows in palpitation,

Sweetly answers each fond hope;

Prythee leave me,

You'll deceive me,