_Enter_ DON CARLOS, R.
_Car._ All hail to the powers of burgundy! Three flasks to my own share!
What sorrows can stand against three flasks of burgundy? I was a damned
melancholy fellow this morning, going to shoot myself, to get rid of my
troubles.--Where are my troubles now? Gone to the moon, to look for my
wits; and there I hope they'll remain together, if one cannot come back
without t'other. But where is this indolent dog, Julio? He fit to
receive appointments from ladies! Sure I have not missed the hour--No,
but seven yet--[_Looking at his watch._]--Seven's the hour, by all the
joys of burgundy! The rogue must be here--let's reconnoitre. [_Retires_,
R.
_Enter_ VICTORIA _and_ OLIVIA, _veiled_, L. U. E.
_Oliv._ Positively, mine's a pretty spark, to let me be first at the
place of appointment. I have half resolved to go home again, to punish
him.
_Vict._ I'll answer for its being but half a resolution--to make it
entire, would be to punish yourself.--There's a solitary man--is not
that he?
_Oliv._ I think not. If he'd please to turn his face this way----
_Vict._ That's impossible, while the loadstone is the other way. He is
looking at the woman in the next walk. Can't you disturb him?
_Oliv._ [_Screams._] Oh! a frightful frog!
[CARLOS _turns on_ R.
_Vict._ Heavens, 'tis my husband!
_Oliv._ Your husband! Is that Don Carlos?
_Vict._ It is indeed.
_Oliv._ Why, really, now I see the man, I don't wonder that you are in
no hurry for your weeds. He is moving towards us.
_Vict._ I cannot speak to him, and yet my soul flies to meet him.
_Car._ Pray, lady, what occasioned that pretty scream? I shrewdly
suspect it was a trap.
_Oliv._ A trap! ha! ha! ha!--a trap for you!
_Car._ Why not, madam? Zounds, a man near six feet high, and three
flasks of burgundy in his head, is worth laying a trap for.
_Oliv._ Yes, unless he happens to be trapped before. 'Tis about two
years since you was caught, I take it--do keep farther off!--Odious! a
married man!
_Car._ The devil! is it posted under every saint in the street, that I
am a married man?
_Oliv._ No, you carry the marks about you; that rueful phiz could never
belong to a bachelor. Besides, there's an odd appearance on your
temples--does your hat sit easily?
_Car._ By all the thorns of matrimony, if----
_Oliv._ Poor man! how natural to swear by what one feels--but why were
you in such haste to gather the thorns of matrimony? Bless us! had you
but looked about you a little, what a market might have been made of
that fine, proper, promising person of yours.
_Car._ Confound thee, confound thee! If thou art a wife, may thy husband
plague thee with jealousies, and thou never be able to give him cause
for them; and if thou art a maid, may'st thou be an old one! [_Going_,
R. _meets_ DON JULIO.] Oh, Julio, look not that way; there's a tongue
will stun thee!
_Julio._ Heaven be praised! I love female prattle. A woman's tongue can
never scare me. Which of these two goldfinches makes the music?
_Car._ [_Crosses to_ VICTORIA.] Oh, this is as silent as a
turtle--[_Taking_ VICTORIA'S _hand_.]--only coos now and then,--Perhaps
you don't hate a married man, sweet one?
_Vict._ You guess right; I love a married man.
_Car._ Hah, say'st thou so? wilt thou love me?
_Vict._ Will you let me?
_Car._ Let thee, my charmer! how I'll cherish thee for't. What would I
not give for thy heart!
_Vict._ I demand a price, that, perhaps, you cannot give--I ask
unbounded love; but you have a wife.
_Car._ And, therefore, the readier to love every other woman; 'tis in
your favour, child.
_Vict._ Will you love me ever?
_Car._ Ever! yes, ever; till we find each other dull company, and yawn,
and talk of our neighbours for amusement.
_Vict._ Farewell! I suspected you to be a bad chapman, and that you
would not reach my terms. [_Going._]
_Car._ Nay, I'll come to your terms, if I can;--but move this way;
[_Crosses_, L.] I am fearful of that woodpecker at your elbow--should
she begin again, her noise will scare all the pretty loves that are
playing about my heart. Don't turn your head towards them; if you like
to listen to love tales, you'll meet fond pairs enough in this walk.
[_Forcing her gently off._
_Julio._ I really believe, though you deny it, that you are my
destiny--that is, you fated me hither. See, is not this your mandate?
[_Taking a letter from his pocket._
_Oliv._ Oh, delightful! the scrawl of some chambermaid: or, perhaps, of
your valet, to give you an air. What is it signed? Marriatornes? Tomasa?
Sancha?
_Julio._ Nay, now I am convinced the letter is yours, since you abuse
it: so you may as well confess?
_Oliv._ Suppose I should, you can't be sure that I do not deceive you.
_Julio._ True; but there is one point in which I have made a vow not to
be deceived; therefore, the preliminary is, that you throw off your
veil.
_Oliv._ My veil!
_Julio._ Positively! if you reject this article, our negotiation ends.
_Oliv._ You have no right to offer articles, unless you own yourself
conquered.
_Julio._ I own myself willing to be conquered, and have, therefore, a
right to make the best terms I can. Do you accede to the demand?
_Oliv._ Certainly not.
_Julio._ You had better.
_Oliv._ I protest I will not.
_Julio._ [_Aside._] My life upon't, I make you. Why, madam, how absurd
this is!--yet, 'tis of no consequence, for I know your features, as well
as though I saw them.
_Oliv._ How can that be?
_Julio._ I judge of what you hide, by what I see--I could draw your
picture.
_Oliv._ Charming! pray begin the portrait.
_Julio._ Imprimis, a broad high forehead, rounded at the top, like an
old-fashioned gateway.
_Oliv._ Oh, horrid!
_Julio._ Little gray eyes, a sharp nose, and hair, the colour of rusty
prunella.
_Oliv._ Odious!
_Julio._ Pale cheeks, thin lips, and----
_Oliv._ Hold, hold, thou vilifier! [_Throws off her veil; he sinks on
one knee._] There! yes, kneel in contrition for your malicious libel.
_Julio._ Say, rather, in adoration. What a charming creature!
_Oliv._ So, now for lies on the other side.
_Julio._ A forehead formed by the graces; hair, which cupid would steal
for his bow-strings, were he not engaged in shooting through those
sparkling hazel circlets, which nature has given you for eyes; lips!
that 'twere a sin to call so; they are fresh gathered rose leaves, with
the fragrant morning dew still hanging on their rounded surface.
_Oliv._ Is that extemporaneous, or ready cut, for every woman who takes
off her veil to you?
_Julio._ I believe, 'tis not extemporaneous; for Nature, when she
finished you, formed the sentiment in my heart, and there it has been
hid, till you, for whom it was formed, called it into words.
_Oliv._ Suppose I should understand, from all this, that you have a mind
to be in love with me; would not you be finely caught?
_Julio._ Charmingly caught! if you'll let me understand, at the same
time, that you have a mind to be in love with me.
_Oliv._ In love with a man! Heavens! I never loved any thing but a
squirrel!
_Julio._ Make me your squirrel--I'll put on your chain, and gambol and
play for ever at your side.
_Oliv._ But suppose you should have a mind to break the chain?
_Julio._ Then loosen it; for, if once that humour seizes me, restraint
won't cure it. Let me spring and bound at liberty, and when I return to
my lovely mistress, tired of all but her, fasten me again to your
girdle, and kiss me while you chide.
_Oliv._ Your servant--to encourage you to leave me again?
_Julio._ No; to make returning to you, the strongest attraction to my
life. Why are you silent?
_Oliv._ I am debating, whether to be pleased or displeased, at what you
have said.
_Julio._ Well?
_Oliv._ You shall know when I have determined. My friend and yours are
approaching this way, and they must not be interrupted.
_Julio._ 'Twould be barbarous--we'll retire as far off as you please.
_Oliv._ But we retire separately, sir; that lady is a woman of honour,
and this moment of the greatest importance to her. You may, however,
conduct me to the gate, on condition that you leave me instantly.
_Julio._ Leave her instantly--oh, then I know my cue. [_Exit together_,
R. U. E.
_Enter_ CARLOS L., _followed by_ VICTORIA, _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.
_Enter_ JULIO, _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.