The Duenna

The Duenna

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Sheridan #10 in our series by Richard Brinsley Sheridan
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Title: The Duenna
Author: Richard Brinsley Sheridan
Release Date: October, 2004 [EBook #6731] [Yes, we are more than
one year ahead of schedule] [This file was first posted on January 20,
2003]
Edition: 10

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THE DUENNA
A COMIC OPERA
DRAMATIS PERSONAE
AS ORIGINALLY ACTED AT COVENT-GARDEN THEATRE,
NOV. 21, 1775
DON FERDINAND _Mr. Mattocks_. DON JEROME _Mr. Wilson_.
DON ANTONIO _Mr. Dubellamy_. DON CARLOS _Mr. Leoni_.
ISAAC MENDOZA _Mr. Quick_. FATHER PAUL _Mr. Mahon_.
FATHER FRANCIS _Mr. Fox_. FATHER AUGUSTINE _Mr. Baker_.
LOPEZ _Mr. Wewitzer_. DONNA LOUISA _Mrs. Mattocks_.
DONNA CLARA _Mrs. Cargill_. THE DUENNA _Mrs. Green_.
Masqueraders, Friars, Porter, Maid, and Servants.
SCENE--SEVILLE.

ACT I.
SCENE I.--The Street before DON JEROME'S House.
Enter LOPEZ, with a dark lantern.
Lop. 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: so! 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. [Exit.]
Enter DON ANTONIO, with MASQUERADERS and music.
SONG.--Don Ant.
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 sings--who sighs below, Her rosy slumbers shall not fly?
Thus, may some vision whisper more Than ever I dare speak before.
_I. Mas_. Antonio, your mistress will never wake, while you sing so
dolefully; love, like a cradled infant, is lulled by a sad melody.
Don Ant. I do not wish to disturb her rest.
_I. Mas_. The reason is, because you know she does not regard you
enough to appear, if you awaked her.
Don Ant. Nay, then, I'll convince you. [Sings.]
The breath of morn bids hence the night, Unveil those beauteous eyes,
my fair; For till the dawn of love is there, I feel no day, I own no light.
DONNA LOUISA--replies from a window.

Waking, I heard thy numbers chide, Waking, the dawn did bless my
sight; 'Tis Phoebus 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!
TRIO.
_Don. Louisa_. Nay, prithee, father, why so rough?
Don Ant. An humble lover I.
Don Jer. How durst you, daughter, lend an ear To such deceitful stuff?
Quick, from the window fly!
_Don. Louisa_ Adieu, Antonio!
Don Ant Must you go?
_Don. Louisa_. & Don Ant. We soon, perhaps, may meet again. For
though hard fortune is our foe, The God of love will fight for us.
Don Jer. Reach me the blunderbuss.
Don Ant. & _Don. Louisa_. The god of love, who knows our pain--
Don Jer. Hence, or these slugs are through