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._