SCENE I.--DONNA LAURA'S.
_Enter_ DONNA LAURA _and_ PEDRO, 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.
_Enter_ VICTORIA, L., _in men's clothes, preceded by_ SANCHA.
_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 to_ LAURA, 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.
_Enter_ OLIVIA _and_ MINETTE, 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!
_Enter_ DON CÆSAR, _leading_ MARCELLA, 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 wish them to 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. [_Exit_ DON CÆSAR _and_ MARCELLA, 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--
_Enter_ SERVANT, 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. [_Exit_ SERVANT, 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.
_Enter_ DON JULIO, L., _preceded by a_ SERVANT, _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!
_Enter_ MINETTE, 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 CARLOS _discovered 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.
_Enter_ PEDRO, _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. [_Exit_ PEDRO, 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.
_Enter_ LAURA, L., _with precipitation, followed by_ VICTORIA.
_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.
_Enter_ GASPER, L. _dressed as an old Beau; two_ SERVANTS
_follow 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. [_Exeunt_ SERVANTS, 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_;
LAURA _assists 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.
_Enter_ VICTORIA, 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!
_Enter_ CARLOS, L.
Where is this youth? Where is the blooming rival, for whom I have been
betrayed? Hold me not, base woman! In vain the stripling flies me; for,
by Heaven, my sword shall in his bosom write its master's wrongs!
[VICTORIA _first goes towards the Flat, then returns, takes off
her hat, and drops on one knee_.
_Vict._ Strike, strike it here! Plunge it deep into that bosom, already
wounded by a thousand stabs, keener and more painful than your sword can
give. Here lives all the gnawing anguish of love betrayed; here live the
pangs of disappointed hopes, hopes sanctified by holiest vows, which
have been written in the book of Heaven.----Hah! he sinks.--[_She flies
to him._]--Oh! my Carlos! beloved! my husband! forgive my too severe
reproaches; thou art dear, yet dear as ever, to Victoria's heart!
_Car._ [_Recovering._] Oh, you know not what you do--you know not what
you are. Oh, Victoria, thou art a beggar!
_Vict._ No, we are rich, we are happy! See there, the fragments of that
fatal deed, which, had I not recovered, we had been indeed undone; yet
still not wretched, could my Carlos think so!
_Car._ The fragments of the deed! the deed which that base woman----
_Vict._ Speak not so harshly.----To you, madam, I fear, I seem
reprehensible; yet, when you consider my duties as a wife and mother,
you will forgive me. Be not afraid of poverty--a woman has deceived, but
she will not desert you!
_Laura._ Is this real? Can I be awake?
_Vict._ Oh, may'st thou indeed awake to virtue!--You have talents that
might grace the highest of our sex; be no longer unjust to such precious
gifts, by burying them in dishonour.--Virtue is our first, most awful
duty; bow, Laura! bow before her throne, and mourn in ceaseless tears,
that ever you forgot her heavenly precepts!
_Laura._ So, by a smooth speech about virtue, you think to cover the
injuries I sustain. Vile, insinuating monster!--but thou knowest me
not.--Revenge is sweeter to my heart than love; and if there is a law
in Spain to gratify that passion, your virtue shall have another field
for exercise. [_Exit_, R.
_Car._ [_Turning towards_ VICTORIA.] My hated rival and my charming
wife! How many sweet mysteries have you to unfold?----Oh, Victoria! my
soul thanks thee, but I dare not yet say I love thee, till ten thousand
acts of watchful tenderness, have proved how deep the sentiment's
engraved.
_Vict._ Can it be true that I have been unhappy?--But the mysteries, my
Carlos, are already explained to you--Gasper's resemblance to my
uncle----
_Gasp._ Yes, sir, I was always apt at resemblances--In our plays at
home, I am always Queen Cleopatra--You know she was but a gipsey queen,
and I hits her off to a nicety.
_Car._ Come, my Victoria----Oh, there is a painful pleasure in my
bosom--To gaze on thee, to listen to and to love thee, seems like the
bliss of angels' cheering whispers to repentant sinners. [_Exeunt_
CARLOS _and_ VICTORIA, L.
_Gasp._ Lord help 'em! how easily the women are taken in! [_Exit_, L.
SCENE III.--_The Prado._
_Enter_ MINETTE, L.
_Min._ Ah, here comes the man at last, after I have been sauntering in
sight of his lodgings these two hours. Now, if my scheme takes, what a
happy person I shall be! and sure, as I was Donna Olivia to-day, to
please my lady, I may be Donna Olivia tonight, to please myself. I'll
address him as the maid of a lady who has taken a fancy to him, then
convey him to our house--then retire, and then come in again, and, with
a vast deal of confusion, confess I sent my maid for him. If he should
dislike my forwardness, the censure will fall on my lady; if he should
be pleased with my person, the advantage will be mine. But perhaps he's
come here on some wicked frolic or other.--I'll watch him at a distance
before I speak. [_Exit_, L. U. E.
_Enter_ DON JULIO, R.
_Julio._ Not here, 'faith; though she gave me last night but a faint
refusal, and I had a right, by all the rules of gallantry, to construe
that into an assent.--Then she's a jilt. Hang her, I feel I am
uneasy--The first woman that ever gave me pain--I am ashamed to perceive
that this spot has attractions for me, only because it was here I
conversed with her. 'Twas here the little syren, conscious of her
charms, unveiled her fascinating face----'Twas here--Ha!
_Enter_ DON GARCIA _and_ DON VINCENTIO, R. U. E.
_Gar._ Ha! Don Julio!
_Julio._ Pshaw! gentlemen, pray be quick.
_Gar._ (L.) 'Twas here that Julio, leaving champaigne untasted, and
songs of gallantry unsung, came to talk to the whistling branches.
_Vin._ (R.) 'Twas here that Julio, flying from the young and gay, was
found in doleful meditation--[_Altering his tone._]--on a wench, for a
hundred ducats!
_Gar._ Who is she?
_Julio._ (C.) Not Donna Olivia, gentlemen; not Donna Olivia.
_Gar._ We have been seeking you, to ask the event of your visit to her.
_Julio._ The event has proved that you have been most grossly duped.
_Vin._ I know that--Ha! ha! ha!
_Julio._ And you likewise, _I_ know that--Ha! ha! ha!----The fair lady,
so far from being a vixen, is the very essence of gentleness. To me, so
much sweetness in a wife, would be downright mawkish.
_Vin._ Well, but she's fond of a Jew's-harp.
_Julio._ Detests it; she would be as fond of a Jew.
_Gar._ Pho, pho! this is a game at cross purposes;--let us all go to Don
Cæsar's together, and compare opinions on the spot.
_Julio._ I'll go most willingly--But it will be only to cover you both
with confusion, for being the two men in Spain most easily imposed on.
[_All going_, R.
_Enter_ MINETTE, L.
_Min._ Gentlemen, my lady has sent me for one of you, pray which of you
is it?
_Julio._ [_Returning._] Me, without doubt, child.
_Vin._ I don't know that.
_Gar._ Look at me, my dear; don't you think I am the man?
_Min._ Let me see--a good air, and well made--you are the man for a
dancer. [_To_ GARCIA.]--Well dressed, and nicely put out of hands--you
are the man for a bandbox. [_Crosses to_ VINCENTIO.]--Handsome and
bold--you are the man for my lady. [_Crosses to_ JULIO.]
_Julio._ My dear little Iris, here's all the gold in my pocket.
Gentlemen, I wish you a good night--I am your very obedient, humble--
[_Stalking by them, with his arm round_ MINETTE.
_Gar._ Pho! pr'ythee, don't be a fool. Are we not going to Donna Olivia?
_Julio._ Donna Olivia must wait, my dear boy; we can decide about her
to-morrow. Come along, my little dove of Venus! [_Exit_, L.
_Gar._ What a rash fellow it is! ten to one but this is some common
business, and he'll be robbed and murdered--they take him for a
stranger.
_Vin._ Let's follow, and see where she leads him.
_Gar._ That's hardly fair: however, as I think there's danger, we will
follow. [_Exit_, L.
SCENE IV.--DON CÆSAR'S.
_Enter_ MINETTE _and_ DON JULIO, L.
_Min._ There, sir, please to sit down, till my lady is ready to wait on
you--she won't be long----I'm sure she's out, and I may do great things
before she returns. [_Aside.--Exit_, R.
_Julio._ Through fifty back lanes, a long garden, and a narrow
staircase, into a superb apartment--all that's in the regular way; as
the Spanish women manage it, one intrigue is too much like another. If
it was not now and then for the little lively fillip of a jealous
husband or brother, which obliges one to leap from a window, or crawl,
like a cat, along the gutters, there would be no bearing the _ennui_.
Ah! ah! but this promises novelty; [_Looking through the Wing._] a young
girl and an old man--wife or daughter? They are coming this way. My
lovely incognita, by all that's propitious! Why did not some kind spirit
whisper to me my happiness? but hold--she can't mean to treat the old
gentleman with a sight of me. [_Goes behind the sofa._
_Enter_ DON CÆSAR _and_ OLIVIA, L.
_Cæsar._ No, no, madam, no going out--There, madam, this is your
apartment, your house, your garden, your assembly, till you go to your
convent. Why, how impudent you are to look thus unconcerned!--Can hardly
forbear laughing in my face!--Very well--very well! [_Exit, double
locking the door_, L.
_Oliv._ Ha! ha! ha! I'll be even with you, my dear father, if you treble
lock it. I'll stay here two days, without once asking for my liberty,
and you'll come the third, with tears in your eyes, to take me out.--He
has forgot the door leading to the garden--but I vow I'll stay.
[_Sitting down._] I can make the time pass pleasantly enough.
_Julio._ I hope so. [_Looking over the back of the sofa._
_Oliv._ Heaven and earth!
_Julio._ My dear creature, why are you so alarmed? am I here before you
expected me? [_Coming round_, R.
_Oliv._ Expected you!
_Julio._ Oh, this pretty surprise! Come, let us sit down; I think your
father was very obliging to lock us in together.
_Oliv._ Sir! sir! my father! [_Calling at the door._
_Cæsar._ [_Without._] Ay, 'tis all in vain--I won't come near you. There
you are, and there you may stay. I shan't return, make as much noise as
you will.
_Julio._ Why, are you not ashamed that your father has so much more
consideration for your guest than you have?
_Oliv._ My guest! how is it possible he can have discovered me?
[_Aside._]
_Julio._ Pho! This is carrying the thing further than you need--if there
was a third person here, it might be prudent.
_Oliv._ Why, this assurance, Don Julio, is really--
_Julio._ The thing in the world you are most ready to pardon.
_Oliv._ Upon my word, I don't know how to treat you.
_Julio._ Consult your heart!
_Oliv._ I shall consult my honour.
_Julio._ Honour is a pretty thing to play with, but when spoken with
that very grave face, after having sent your maid to bring me here, is
really more than I expected. I shall be in an ill humour presently--I
won't stay if you treat me thus. [_Crosses_, L.]
_Oliv._ Well, this is superior to every thing! I have heard that men
will slander women privately to each other; 'tis their common amusement;
but to do it to one's face!--and you really pretend that I sent for you?
_Julio._ Ha! ha! ha! Well, if it obliges you, I will pretend that you
did not send for me; that your maid did not conduct me hither; nay, that
I have not now the supreme happiness--[_Catching her in his arms._
_Enter_ MINETTE; _she screams, and runs out_, R.
_Julio._ Donna Olivia de Zuniga! how the devil came she here?
_Oliv._ [_Aside._] That's lucky! Olivia, my dear friend, why do you run
away? Keep the character I charge you. [_Apart to_ MINETTE.] Be still
Olivia.
_Min._ Oh! dear madam! I was--I was so frightened when I saw that
gentleman.
_Oliv._ Oh, my dear; it's the merriest pretty kind of gentleman in the
world; he pretends that I sent my maid for him into the streets, ha! ha!
_Julio._ That's right; always tell a thing yourself, which you would not
have believed.
_Min._ It is the readiest excuse for being found in a lady's apartment,
however. Now will I swear I know nothing of the matter. [_Aside._]
_Oliv._ Now, I think it a horrid poor excuse; he has certainly not had
occasion to invent reasons for such impertinencies often. Tell me that
he has made love to you to-day. [_Apart._]
_Min._ I fancy that he has had occasion to excuse impertinencies
often;--his impertinence to me to-day----
_Julio._ To you, madam?
_Min._ Making love to me, my dear, all the morning--could hardly get him
away, he was so desirous to speak to my father. Nay, sir, I don't care
for your impatience.
_Julio._ [_Aside._] Now would I give a thousand pistoles if she were a
man!
_Oliv._ Nay, then, this accidental meeting is fortunate--pray, Don
Julio, don't let my presence prevent your saying what you think proper
to my friend--shall I leave you together? [_Crosses_, L.]
_Julio._ [_Apart._] To contradict a lady on such an assertion would be
too gross; but, upon my honour, Donna Olivia is the last woman upon
earth who could inspire me with a tender idea. Find an excuse to send
her away, my angel, I entreat you. I have a thousand things to say, and
the moments are too precious to be given to her.
_Oliv._ I think so too, but one can't be rude, you know. Come, my dear,
sit down, [_Seating herself_, C.] have you brought your work?
_Julio._ The devil! what can she mean? [_Pushing himself between_
MINETTE _and the sofa_.] DONNA OLIVIA, I am sorry to inform you that my
physician has just been sent for to your father, Don Cæsar.--The poor
gentleman was seized with a vertigo.
_Oliv._ Vertigoes! Oh, he has them frequently, you know. [_To_ MINETTE.]
_Min._ Yes, and they always keep me from his sight.
_Julio._ Did ever one woman prevent another from leaving her at such a
moment before? I really, madam, cannot comprehend----
_Cæsar._ [_Without._] It is impossible--impossible, gentleman! Don Julio
cannot be here.
_Julio._ Hah! who's that?
_Enter_ DON CÆSAR, DON GARCIA, _and_ DON VINCENTIO, L. D.
_Gar._ There! did we not tell you so? we saw him enter the garden.
_Cæsar._ What can be the meaning of all this? A man in my daughter's
apartment! [_Attempting to draw._
_Gar._ Hold, sir! Don Julio is one of the first rank in Spain, and will
unquestionably be able to satisfy your honour, without troubling your
sword. We have done mischief, Vincentio! [_Apart._]
_Julio._ [_To_ OLIVIA.] They have been cursedly impertinent! but I'll
bring you off, never fear, by pretending a passion for your busy friend,
there.
_Cæsar._ Satisfy me then in a moment; speak, one of you. [_Crosses to_
JULIO.
_Julio._ I came here, sir, by the merest accident.--The garden door was
open, curiosity led me to this apartment. You came in a moment after,
and very civilly locked me in with your daughter.
_Cæsar._ Locked you in! why, then, did you not, like a man of honour,
cry out?
_Julio._ The lady cried out, sir, and you told her you would not return;
but when Donna Olivia de Zuniga entered, for whom I have conceived a
most violent passion----
_Cæsar._ A passion for her! Oh, let me hear no more on't.--A passion for
her! You may as well entertain a passion for the untameable hyena.
_Gar._ There, Vincentio, what think you now? Xantippe or not?
_Vin._ I am afraid I must give up that--but pray support me as to this
point, Don Cæsar; is not the lady fond of a Jew's-harp?
_Cæsar._ Fond! she's fond of nothing, but playing the vixen; there is
not such a fury upon earth.
_Julio._ These are odd liberties, with a person who does not belong to
him.
_Cæsar._ I'll play the hypocrite for her no more; the world shall know
her true character, they shall know----but ask her maid there.
_Julio._ Her maid!
_Min._ Why, yes, sir; to say truth, I am but Donna Olivia's maid, after
all.
_Oliv._ [_Apart._] Dear Minette! speak for me, or I am now ruined.
_Min._ I will, ma'am.--I must confess, sir, [_Going up to_ JULIO.] there
never was so bitter a tempered creature as my lady is. I have borne her
humours for two years; I have seen her by night and by day. [OLIVIA
_pulls her sleeve, impatiently_.] I will, I will! [_To_ OLIVIA.] and
this I am sure, that if you marry her, you'll rue the day every hour the
first month, and hang yourself the next. There, madam, I have done it
roundly now. [_Exit_, R.
_Oliv._ I am undone--I am caught in my own snare! [_Aside._]
_Cæsar._ After this true character of my daughter, I suppose, signor, we
shall hear no more of your passion; so let us go down, and leave madam
to begin her penance.
_Julio._ My ideas are totally confused.--You Donna Olivia de Zuniga, and
the person I thought you, her maid! something too flattering darts
across my mind.
_Cæsar._ If you have taken a fancy to her maid, I have nothing farther
to say; but as to that violent creature----
_Julio._ Oh, do not profane her. Where is that spirit which you tell me
of? Is it that which speaks in modest, conscious blushes on her cheeks?
Is it that which bends her lovely eyes to earth?
_Cæsar._ Ay, she's only bending them to earth, considering how to
afflict me with some new obstinacy--she'll break out like a tigress in a
moment.
_Julio._ It cannot be--are you, charming woman! such a creature?
_Oliv._ Yes, to all mankind--but one. [_Looking down._]
_Julio._ But one! Oh, might that excepted one, be me!
_Oliv._ Would you not fear to trust your fate with her, you have cause
to think so hateful?
_Julio._ No, I'd bless the hour that bound my fate to hers. Permit me,
sir, to pay my vows to this fair vixen.
_Cæsar._ What, are you such a bold man as that? Pho! but if you are,
'twill be only lost time--she'll contrive, some way or other, to return
your vows upon your hands.
_Oliv._ If they have your authority, sir, I will return them--only with
my own.
_Cæsar._ What's that! what did she say? my head is giddy with surprise.
_Julio._ And mine with rapture. [_Catching her hand._
_Cæsar._ Don't make a fool of me, Olivia.--Wilt marry him?
_Oliv._ When you command me, sir.
_Cæsar._ My dear Don Julio, thou art my guardian angel--shall I have a
son-in-law at last? Garcia, Vincentio, could you have thought it?
_Gar._ No, sir; if we had, we should have saved that lady much trouble;
'tis pretty clear now, why she was a vixen.
_Vin._ Yes, yes, 'tis clear enough, and I beg your pardon, madam, for
the share of trouble I gave you--but, pray, have the goodness to tell me
sincerely, what do you think of a crash? [_Crosses to_ OLIVIA.
_Oliv._ I love music, Don Vincentio, I admire your skill, and whenever
you'll give me a concert, I shall be obliged. [_Crosses to_ CÆSAR.
_Vin._ You could not have pleased me so well, if you had married me.
_Enter_ DON CARLOS _and_ VICTORIA, R.
_Oliv._ Hah! here comes Victoria and her Carlos. My friend, you are
happy--'tis in your eyes; I need not ask the event.
_Cæsar._ What, is this Don Carlos, whom Victoria gave us for a cousin?
Sir, you come in a happy hour.
_Car._ I do indeed, for I am most happy.
_Julio._ My dear Carlos, what has new made thee thus, since morning?
_Car._ A wife! Marry, Julio, marry!
_Julio._ What! this advice from you?
_Car._ Yes; and when you have married an angel, when that angel has done
for you such things, as makes your gratitude almost equal to your love,
you may then guess something of what I feel, in calling this angel mine.
_Oliv._ Now, I trust, Don Julio, after all this, that if I should do you
the honour of my hand, you'll treat me cruelly, be a very bad man, that
I, like my exemplary cousin----
_Vict._ Hold, Olivia! it is not necessary that a husband should be
faulty, to make a wife's character exemplary.--Should he be tenderly
watchful of your happiness, your gratitude will give a thousand graces
to your conduct; whilst the purity of your manners, and the nice honour
of your life, will gain you the approbation of those, whose praise is
fame.
_Oliv._ Pretty and matronly! thank you, my dear. We have each struck a
bold stroke to-day;--yours has been to reclaim a husband, mine to get
one: but the most important is yet to be obtained--the approbation of
our judges.
That meed withheld, our labours have been vain;
Pointless my jests, and doubly keen your pain;
Might we their plaudits, and their praise provoke,
Our _bold_ should then be term'd, a _happy_ stroke.
DISPOSITION OF THE CHARACTERS AT THE FALL OF THE CURTAIN.
DON CÆSAR. DONNA OLIVIA.
DON VASQUEZ. DON JULIO.
DON GARCIA. DON CARLOS.
DON VINCENTIO. DONNA VICTORIA.
R.] [L.
Clayton & Van Norden, Printers, 42 William-street.
TRANSCRIBER'S NOTE
Contemporary spellings have generally been retained. Hyphenation is
inconsistent throughout. Obvious misspellings and punctuation errors
have been corrected and character names harmonised; the latter applies
in particular to the character of Olivia, who was referred to in the
_Remarks_ as "Oliva". Occasionally, the same word occurred at the end of
one line and the beginning of the next, and in all such instances, one
of the two was removed.
A damaged page in the original scans had caused the loss of two words
in a passage in Act 5, scene two:
No, (no;) the vineyards, and the cornfields, and the
woods (of) Rosalvo, are not for him.
The words in brackets were supplemented from another scanned copy of
the text (same publisher, same year, different edition).
The following substantive changes were made:
Act IV, scene II
"then" was changed to "them" in:
The furniture and decorations are my daughter's taste; would you
wish THEM to remain, or will you give orders to have them
changed?
Act V, scene II
"thorne" was replaced by "throne" in:
Virtue is our first, most awful duty; bow, Laura! bow before her
THRONE
End of Project Gutenberg's A Bold Stroke for a Husband, by Hannah Cowley