The Duenna | Page 8

Don Jer. True; never were seen such a couple of credulous simpletons!
But come, 'tis time you should see my daughter--you must carry on the
siege by yourself, friend Isaac.
Isaac. Sir, you'll introduce----
Don Jer. No--I have sworn a solemn oath not to see or to speak to her
till she renounces her disobedience; win her to that, and she gains a
father and a husband at once.

Isaac. Gad, I shall never be able to deal with her alone; nothing keeps
me in such awe as perfect beauty--now there is something consoling
and encouraging in ugliness.
SONG
Give Isaac the nymph who no beauty can boast, But health and good
humour to make her his toast; If straight, I don't mind whether slender
or fat, And six feet or four--we'll ne'er quarrel for that.
Whate'er her complexion, I vow I don't care; If brown, it is
lasting--more pleasing, if fair: And though in her face I no dimples
should see, Let her smile--and each dell is a dimple to me.
Let her locks be the reddest that ever were seen, And her eyes may be
e'en any colour but green; For in eyes, though so various in lustre and
hue, I swear I've no choice--only let her have two.
'Tis true I'd dispense with a throne on her back, And white teeth, I own,
are genteeler than black; A little round chin too's a beauty, I've heard;
But I only desire she mayn't have a beard.
Don Jer. You will change your note, my friend, when you've seen
Louisa.
Isaac. Oh, Don Jerome, the honour of your alliance----
Don Jer. Ay, but her beauty will affect you--she is, though I say it who
am her father, a very prodigy. There you will see features with an eye
like mine--yes, i'faith, there is a kind of wicked sparkling-- sometimes
of a roguish brightness, that shows her to be my own.
Isaac. Pretty rogue!
Don Jer. Then, when she smiles, you'll see a little dimple in one cheek
only; a beauty it is certainly, yet, you shall not say which is prettiest,
the cheek with the dimple, or the cheek without.
Isaac. Pretty rogue!

Don Jer. Then the roses on those cheeks are shaded with a sort of
velvet down, that gives a delicacy to the glow of health.
Isaac. Pretty rogue!
Don Jer. Her skin pure dimity, yet more fair, being spangled here and
there with a golden freckle.
Isaac. Charming pretty rogue! pray how is the tone of her voice?
Don Jer. Remarkably pleasing--but if you could prevail on her to sing,
you would be enchanted--she is a nightingale--a Virginia nightingale!
But come, come; her maid shall conduct you to her antechamber.
Isaac. Well, egad, I'll pluck up resolution, and meet her frowns
intrepidly.
Don Jer. Ay! woo her briskly--win her, and give me a proof of your
address, my little Solomon.
Isaac. But hold--I expect my friend Carlos to call on me here. If he
comes, will you send him to me?
Don Jer. I will. Lauretta!--[Calls.]--Come--she'll show you to the room.
What! do you droop? here's a mournful face to make love with!
[Exeunt.]

SCENE II.--DONNA LOUISA'S _Dressing-Room_.
Enter ISAAC and MAID.
Maid. Sir, my mistress will wait on you presently.
[Goes to the door.]
Isaac. When she's at leisure--don't hurry her.--[Exit MAID.]--I wish I
had ever practised a love-scene--I doubt I shall make a poor figure--I
couldn't be more afraid if I was going before the Inquisition. So, the

door opens--yes, she's coming--the very rustling of her silk has a
disdainful sound.
Enter DUENNA dressed as DONNA LOUISA.
Now dar'n't I look round, for the soul of me--her beauty will certainly
strike me dumb if I do. I wish she'd speak first.
Duen. Sir, I attend your pleasure.
Isaac. [Aside.] So! the ice is broke, and a pretty civil beginning
too!--[Aloud.] Hem! madam--miss--I'm all attention.
Duen. Nay, sir, 'tis I who should listen, and you propose.
Isaac. [Aside.] Egad, this isn't so disdainful neither--I believe I may
venture to look. No--I dar'n't--one glance of those roguish sparklers
would fix me again.
Duen. You seem thoughtful, sir. Let me persuade you to sit down.
Isaac. [Aside.] So, so; she mollifies apace--she's struck with my figure!
this attitude has had its effect.
Duen. Come, sir, here's a chair.
Isaac. Madam, the greatness of your goodness overpowers me--that a
lady so lovely should deign to turn her beauteous eyes on me so.
[_She takes his hand, he turns and sees her_.]
Duen. You seem surprised at my condescension.
Isaac. Why, yes, madam, I am a little surprised at it.--[Aside.] Zounds!
this can never be Louisa--she's as old as my mother!
Duen. But former prepossessions give way to my father's commands.
Isaac. [Aside.] Her father! Yes, 'tis she then.--Lord, Lord; how