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.