Don A. I will immediately. Well, Ernesto,
What good news? speak freely.
Ern. Sir, as you charg'd me, I told your brother-in-law
I thought you hardly could be there this night.
He kisses your hands, and bad me tell you,
That he expects your coming with impatience.
This letter's from Don Henrique, th' other's from
Your beauteous bride, the most accomplish'd person
I ever saw: my being of your train
Gave me the privilege of a domestic,
To see her in her chamber-dress without
A veil, either to cover faults or hide
Perfections.
Don A. Tell me truly, is she so very handsome?
Ern. Handsomer far, in my opinion, sir,
Than all those Brussels beauties, which you call
The finish'd pieces: but I say no more;
Let your own eyes inform you; here's a key
Of the apartment that's made ready for you;
A lower quarter, very nobly furnish'd,
That opens on St Vincent's Street.
Don A. Give it me, and go to the post-house,
And take care that my things be brought from, thence.
[Exit Ernesto.
Octavio, will you go along with me,
And be a witness of my first address?
Don O. Sir, you choose in me an ill companion
Of lovers' interviews or nuptial joys:
One whose misfortunes to such sad extremes
Are heighten'd, that the very mentioning
Of happy hours serves only to embitter
The memory of my lost joys.
Don A. So very deep a sense of your misfortunes
Holds no proportion with Octavio's mind.
Enter Flora in haste.