SCENE II.
An Apartment.
Enter Don Fernando.
Don Fer. A wild scheme of my father's, to think of an alliance with this mad family; yes, Don Scipio's brain is certainly touched beyond cure, his daughter, my cara sposa of Italy, don't suit my idea of what a wife should be—no, the lovely novice, this poor relation of Dame Isabel, has caught my heart. I'm told to-morrow she's to be immured in a convent; what if I ask Dame Isabel, if—but she, and indeed Don Scipio, carry themselves very strangely towards me—I can't imagine what's become of my rascal Pedrillo.
Enter Pedrillo, in an elegant Morning Gown, Cap and Slippers.
Ped. Strange, the respect I meet in this family. I hope we don't take horse after my master's wedding. I should like to marry here myself,—before I unrobe I'll attack one of the maids!—Faith, a very modish dress to go courting in,—hide my livery, and I am quite gallant.
Don Fer. Oh here's a gentleman I ha'n't seen before!
Ped. Tol de rol!
Don Fer. Pray, sir, may I—Pedrillo, [Surprised.] where have you—hey! what, ha! ha! ha! what's the matter with you?
Ped. Matter!—Why, sir, I don't know how it was, but somehow or other last night, I happened to sit down to a supper of only twelve covers, cracked two bottles of choice wine, slept in an embroider'd bed, where I sunk in down, and lay till this morning like a diamond in cotton.—So, indeed, sir, I don't know what's the matter with me.
Don Fer. I can't imagine how, or what it all means.
Ped. Why, sir, Don Scipio, being a gentleman of discernment, perceives my worth, and values it.
Don Fer. Then, sir, if you are a gentleman of such prodigious merit, be so obliging, with submission to your cap and gown, as to—pull off my boots.
Enter Vasquez.
Vas. Sir, the ladies wait breakfast for you.
[To Pedrillo, with great respect.
Don Fer. My respects, I attend them.
Vas. You! I mean his honour here.
Ped. Oh, you mean my honour here.
Don Fer. Well, but perhaps, my good friend, I may like a dish of chocolate as well as his honour here.
Vas. Chocolate, ha! ha! ha!
[With a sneer.
Fed. Chocolate, ha! ha! ha!
Don Fer. I'll teach you to laugh, sirrah!
[Beats Pedrillo.
Ped. Teach me to laugh! you may be a good master, but you've a very bad method—But, hey for chocolate and the ladies.
[Exeunt Pedrillo and Vasquez.
Don Fer. Don Scipio shall render me an account for this treatment; bear his contempt, and become the butt for the jests of his insolent servants! As I don't like his daughter, I have now a fair excuse, and indeed a just cause, to break my contract, and quit his castle; but then, I leave behind the mistress of my soul—Suppose I make her a tender of my heart—but that might offend, as she must know my hand is engaged to another—When I looked, she turned her lovely eyes averted—Doom'd to a nunnery!