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_Don Scipio._ Every body's right, for here he stands like a young tailor of Cordova.
[_To PEDRILLO._
_Lor._ Oh, what? then this is Pedrillo?
[_To FERNANDO._
_Don Fer._ At your service, ma'am.
[_Bowing._
_Ped._ That Pedrillo! then, who the devil am I?
_Don Fer._ Here, rogue, this purse is yours--say you are Don Fernando.
[_Apart to PEDRILLO._
_Ped._ Oh, sir--now I understand you.--True, Don Scipio, I am all that he says.
_Don Scipio._ Hey! Now that's right and sensible, and like yourself; but I'll go bustle about our business, for we'll have all our love affairs settled this evening.
[_Exeunt DON SCIPIO and FERNANDO._
_Lor._ So, then, you're to be my husband, ha! ha! ha!
_Ped._ Eh!
_Lor._ Well, if not, I can be as cold as you are indifferent.
AIR XIV.--LORENZA.
_If I my heart surrender,_ _Be ever fond and tender,_ _And sweet connubial joys shall crown_ _Each soft rosy hour:_ _In pure delight each heart shall own_ _Love's triumphant pow'r._ _See brilliant belles admiring,_ _See splendid beaux desiring,_ _All for a smile expiring,_ _Where'er Lorenza moves._ _To b.a.l.l.s and routs resorting,_ _O bliss supreme, transporting!_ _Yet ogling, flirting, courting,_ _'Tis you alone that loves._
_If I my heart surrender, &c._
[Exeunt.
ACT THE THIRD.
SCENE I.
_A Grand Saloon._
_Enter DON SCIPIO and VASQUEZ._
_Don Scipio._ D'ye hear, Vasquez? run to Father Bened.i.c.k, tell him to wipe his chin, go up to the chapel, put on his spectacles, open his breviary,--find out matrimony, and wait till we come to him.--[_Exit VASQUEZ._] Then, hey, for a brace of weddings!
AIR XV.--DON SCIPIO.
_Then hey for a la.s.s and a bottle to cheer,_ _And a thumping bantling every year!_ _With skin as white as snow,_ _And hair as brown as a berry!_ _With eyes as black as a sloe,_ _And lips as red as a cherry;_ _Sing rory tory,_ _Dancing, prancing,_ _Laugh and lie down is the play,_ _We'll fondle together,_ _In spite of the weather,_ _And kiss the cold winter away._ _Laugh while you live,_ _For as life is a jest,_ _Who laughs the most,_ _Is sure to live best._ _When I was not so old,_ _I frolick'd among the misses;_ _And when they thought me too bold,_ _I stopped their mouths with kisses._ _Sing rory, tory, &c._
I wonder, is Don Fernando drest--Oh, here comes the servant, in his proper habiliments!
_Enter DON FERNANDO, in a Livery._
Ay, now, my lad, you look something like.
_Don Fer._ Yes, your honour, I was quite sick of my grandeur--My pa.s.sing so well in this disguise gives me a very humble opinion of myself.
[_Aside._
_Don Scipio._ But, Pedrillo, is your master equipped? 'faith, I long to see him in his proper garb.
_Don Fer._ Why, no, sir, we're a little behind hand with our finery, on account of a portmanteau of clothes that's mislaid somewhere or other.
_Don Scipio._ Portmanteau! Oh, it's safe enough--Your fellow servant has it.
_Don Fer._ Fellow servant?
_Don Scipio._ Ay, the little spy has taken it in charge--Oh, here comes the very beagle.
_Enter SPADO._
Well, my little dreamer, look; Pedrillo has got into his own clothes again.
_Spado._ [_Surprised and aside._] Don Fernando in a livery! or is this really a servant? Zounds! sure I ha'n't been telling truth all this while!--We must face it though--Ah, my dear old friend!--Glad to see you yourself again.
[_Shakes Hands._
_Don Fer._ My dear boy, I thank you--[_Aside._]--So, here's an old friend I never saw before.
_Don Scipio._ Tell Pedrillo where you have left your master's portmanteau.
While I go lead him in triumph to his bride.
[_Exit._
_Don Fer._ Pray, my good, new, old friend, where has your care deposited this portmanteau?
_Spado._ Gone!
[_Looking after DON SCIPIO._
