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A Street.

Enter LOPEZ, with a dark Lanthorn, Lopez. Past three o'clock ! soh! a notable hour for one of my regular disposition, to be strolling like a bravo through the streets of Seville ! Well, of all services, to serve a young lover is the hardest-not that I am an enemy to love ; but my love, and my master's, differ strangely-Don Ferdinand is much too gallant to eat, drink, or sleep now, my love gives me an appetite-then I am fond of dreaming of my mistress, and I love dearly to toast her—This cannot be done without good sleep and good liquor; hence my partiality to a feather-bed and a bottle-what a pity now, that I have not further time for reflections ! but my master expects thee, honest Lopez, to secure his retreat from Donna Clara's window, as I guess[Music without.] hey! sure, I heard music ! so, so ! who have we here? Oh, Don Antonio, my master's friend, come from the masquerade, to serenade my

young mistress, Donna Louisa, I suppose : soh! we shall have the old gentleman up presently-lest he should miss his son, I had best lose no time in getting to my post


Enter ANTONIO, with Masks and Music.


Tell me, my lute, can thy soft strain

So gently speak thy master's pain?
So softly sing, so humbly sigh,

That, though my sleeping love shall know

Who singswho sighs below,
Her rosy slumbers shall not fly?

Thus, may some vision whisper more

Than ever I dare speak before. 1 Mask. Antonio, your mistress will never wake, while you sing so dolefully; love, like a cradled infant, is lulled by a sad melody,

Ant. I do not wish to disturb her rest.

1 Mask. The reason is, because you know she does not regard you enough to appear, if you awaked her.

Ant. Nay, then, I'll convince you. [Sings.

The breath of morn bids hence the night,
Unveil those beauteous eyes, my fuir ;
For till the dawn of love is there,
I feel no day, I own no light.

LOUISA---replies from a Window.
Waking, I heard thy numbers chide,

Waking, the dawn did bless my sight,
'Tis Phæbus sure, that woos, I cried,
Who speaks in song, who moves in light.

DON JEROME-From a Window.

What vagabonds are these, I hear,
Fiddling, fluting, rhyming ranting,
Piping, scraping, whining, canting,

Fly, scurvy minstrels, fly!


Louisa. Nay, prythee, father, why so rough?
Ant. An humble lover I.
Jerome. How durst you, daughter, lend an ear

To such deceitful stuff?

Quick, from the window, fly! Louisa. Adieu, Antonio ! Ant. Must you go? Louisa. 2 We soon, perhaps, may meet again ; Ant. For though hard


fortune is our foes The god of love will fight

for us. Jerome. Reach me the blunderbuss. Ant. & L. The god of love, who knows our pain, Jerome. Hence, or these slugs are through your brain.

[Exeunt severally


A Piazza.


Lopez. Truly, sir, I think that a little sleep, once in a week or som

Ferd. Peace, fool, don't mention sleep to me.
Lopez. No, no, sir, I don't mention


low-bred, vulgar, sound sleep; but I can't help thinking that a

gentle slumber, or half an hour's dozing, if it were only for the novelty of the thing

Ferd. Peace, booby, I say !Oh Clara, dear, cruel disturber of my rest!

Lopez. And of mine too.

Ferd. 'Sdeath! to trifle with me at such a juncture as this-now to stand on punctilios-love me ! I don't believe she ever did.

Lopez. Nor I either.

Ferd. Or is it, that her sex never know their de. sires for an hour together?

Lopez. Ah, they know them oftner than they'll own them.

Ferd. Is there, in the world, so inconstant a creature as Clara?

Lopez. I could name one.

Ferd. Yes; the tame fool, who submits to her caprice.

Lopez. I thought he couldn't miss it. Ferd. Is she not capricious, teazing, tyrannical, obstinate, perverse, absurd ? ay, a wilderness of faults and follies; her looks are scorn, and her very smiles -'sdeath! I wish I hadn't mentioned her smiles ; for she does smile such beaming loveliness, such fascinating brightness—Oh, death and madness! I shall die if I lose her.

Lopez. Oh, those damned smiles have undone all !

Could I her faults remember,

Forgetting every charm,
Soon would impartial Reason

The tyrant Love disarm.
But when enraged I number

Each failing of her mind,
Love still suggests each beauty,

And sees-while Reason's blind.

Lopez. Here comes Don Antonio, sir.

Ferd. Well, go you home-I shall be there presently. Lopez. Ah, those cursed smiles !

[Exit, Enter ANTONIO. Ferd. Antonio, Lopez tells me he left you chaunt. ing before our door was my father waked ?

Ant. Yes, yes ; he has a singular affection for mu. sic, so I left him roaring at his barred window, like the print of Bajazet in the cage. And what brings you out so early ?

Ferd. I believe I told you, that’to-morrow was the day fixed by Don Pedro and Clara's unnatural stepmother, for her to enter a convent, in order, that her brat might possess her fortune; made desperate by this, I procured a key to the door, and bribed Clara's maid to leave it 'unbolted; at 'two this morning, I entered, unperceived, and stole to her chamber-I found her waking and weeping.

Ant. Happy Ferdinand! Ferd. 'Sdeath! hear the conclusion_I was rated as the most confident ruffian, for daring to approach her room at that hour of night.

Ant. Ay, ay, this was at first?

Ferd. No such thing; she would not hear a word from me, but threatened to raise her mother, if I did not instantly leave her.

Ant. Well, but at last?

Ferd. At last'! why, I was forced to leave the house, as I came in.

Ant. And did you do nothing to offend her?

Ferd. Nothing, as I hope to be saved-I believe, I might snatch a dozen or two of kisses.

Ant, Was that all? Well, I think, I never heard of such assurance!

Ferd. Zounds! I tell you, I behaved with the ute most respect.

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