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I will make some return: ask me for any thing except my Dog; ask for my purse, my—I'll tell you what—there's a charming girl at Madridone Rosa—de Villarea.—I'll give you her.

Rosa. [Advancing.) You will, Sir—will you?

Blabbo.

Rosa !—Heav'ns !—How !—Oh, ho,—I thought so—you couldn't help following me !—

Rosa.

No, Sir; as it happens I follow'd my Mistress, and not one who would dispose of me, in preference to his Dog.—but pray, Sir, how came you both unchained!

Blabbo.

How !—look, Rosa—

Pedro.
'S death !—don't betray me !—

Blabbo.
I must!

Pedro.

Hold—if you impart the secret it will cost my life! Blabbo.

And, if I don't impart it, it will cost mine; for I'm actually choaking. Rosa, this generouss Spaniard was my Goaler; and leaving the prison

to to purchase provisions—Carlo accidentally followed him,—from what motive I know not, hut it was a lucky one for me arid Pedro—for he, on his return, being attack'd by two of Arabbo's bandiiti, the Dog lamed one and throttled the other,—and in return, my freedom was secured. Oh! blessings on his beautiful face !—If I thought, Rosa, it would n't break your heart with jealousy, I'd hug and kiss him into atoms.

Rosa.

Oh—pray indulge yourself* Sir—I neither trouble my head about four or two legged animals.

> Blabbo.

Don't you ?—then, to the four legged animal I'm sure you are ungrateful—For once, when you were bathing—didn't he kindly take it into his head you were drowning, and pull you out among a hundred admiring spectators? and another time, when he was blam'd and beat for breaking one of the Marquis's fine looking-glasses, did he ever tell that it was the work of our romping and kissing, Rosa?

Rosa.

Silence, Sir ;—and till you are sober, I—

Blabbo.

Sober—Oh, fie!—I never drink,—and I'll give you my reasons, as I Icarn't them from an English prisoner.

Song

SONG

Blabbo.

WITH the pleasures of drinking the table will

ring,
And of Bacchus's bowl with rapture we sing;
As I toast a friend's health, it goes merrily

down,
But I find in the end, that it ruins my own!
At night 'tis quite charming,
But, Oh! in the morning,
To feel your head' aching.
Your stomach all quaking,
Your nerves in disorder,
Your taste out of order,
And instead of sweet dimples,
Your face all red pimples,
Till your nose in the night,
Seems a flambeau alight!

And then you may cry,
'Tis for drinking 1 die;
And then you may cry,
'Tis for drinking I die.
So jolly old Bacchus good bye.
'Tis said too with wine, that good stories a-

bound. And that jokes o'er the bottle go brilliantly

round; But the uproar's so great, common sense cannot

bear it, And if they are witty, the Devil can't hear it;

E "Silence I "Silence! the President! charge your

glasses,— "Bumpers! bumpers! now the Lasses! "Fill him—I see skylight here! "Buz! off with your heel-taps there! "Fine Mr. Vice, he's making an oration, "And company is spoil'd by conversation. "Huzza! the Navy ! go it! three times

three! "And now a song from lawyer Lancery, "Gentlemen, I can't sing; but I will read you a bill in Chancery." And then you may cry, 'Tis for drinking I die. So noisy old Baechus good bye.

Re-Enter Marchioness, and Julio.

Marchioness.

Oh, Rosa? All's lost. The castle is so closely guarded, no entrance can be gained : and passing yonder battlements, I heard the sentinels in earnest talk; and dreadful to reveal! there words were, "death and Calatrava."

( A muffled drum beats within the castle.)

Hark what means that drum.—

Blabbo.

Ay, Pedro—what means that drum?

Pedro.

Means; they are preparing for the execution of the Marquis de Calatrava. And so good nights.

Marchioness.

[graphic]

Marchioness.
Oh ! support, support me, Heaven!

Blabbo.

Stop Pedro—In what part of the castle is the Marquis now confined.

Pedro.

There, adjoining the Governor's bed-chamber.

Blabbo.

Oh! that's the Governor's bed-chamber, is it? Very well! very well! and, d'ye hear, Pedro; take care of your favourite Carlo for half an hour. Thanks, good night.

Exit Pedro.

And now, Madam, don't be cast down ; for tho' force won't assist us, stratagem may ; and if I can but get the Governor out of the castle and myself into it, you still shall boast the best of husbands, your child the best of fathers, and I the best of wives: for Rosa shall reward me with her hand, and we shall be a very happy handsome couple. . Rosa.

Ay, save but the Marquis, and Pll be Donna Blabbo before Mattins.

Blabbo.
Will you? Then here goes, (kisses her.)

E 2 QU1NTETTO,

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