University of Virginia Library

ACT II.

The Street before Buffalo's house.
Enter Count Folatre, his servant Davo following. They walk along, looking up to the window.
Folatre,
anxious.
No signal yet?

Davo.
Her aunt, my Lord, comes forth.

Enter Matilda, dissatisfied. Folatre runs to meet her.
Fola.
Well, my kind patroness!

(eagerly.)
Matil.
(sorrowfully.)
Count! your proposals
I tender'd to the Don.

Fola.
Well!

Matil.
He rejects 'em.
Declares he'll marry her himself.

Fola.
(stunn'd)
Himself!
(in dejection)
I'm lost—ay, this I fear'd. She—
She's a treasure
Not to be yeilded.

(in despair)
Matil.
Why then yeild it you?

Fola.
What can I do?

(desponding)
Matil.
Do, Count? rouse! use your wits!
Use stratagem, disguise! Our oaf's a subject
For any, any practice.

Fola.
(pondering)
I'm bewilder'd.
AIR.

Folatre plung'd in meditation, Davo steps forward bowing.
Davo.
Pardon my lord—I see you're pos'd—permit me
To start a project.

Fola.
(hopelessly)
You!

Davo.
(to Matil.)
Madam—I'm told,
This Don has faith in the Black Art.

Matil.
(attentive)
Religious!

Davo.
Astrology—and magic?

Matil.
Yes, his creed.

Davo.
On that I build—I play the Astrologer:
You puff me off t' him;—he comes to consult me.
If my responses make him not as eager
T'espouse Miss—Belzebub, as Miss Cephisa,
Say, I'm—no Conjuror.

Matil.
(much pleas'd)
I like it vastly.
(laughing)
'Twill make the fool run mad—I'll call Cephisa.

(goes in)
Fola.
(hastily)
Dispatch good Davo! run man! hire a chamber,
Provide your properties.—

Davo.
(with alacrity going)
All shall be ready.—
AIR.

[Exit in a hurry.
Re-enter Matilda with Cephisa.
Ceph.
(to Fola.)
My aunt informs me—you've a plot in hand—

Fola.
We have, my angel!—One, on whose event
My life or death depends.

[taking her hand
Ceph.
(with tenderness, half aside, with a sigh)
Perhaps mine too.

Fola.
(fondly)
Bewitching softness!

AIR, DUETT, which changes to a TRIO, and afterwards a QUARTETTO.
Fola.
Say, maid ador'd! Say! Heavenly Fair!
What may I hope?

Ceph.
Hope, whatsoe'er
Honour can grant, and love demand.

Fola.
They claim—in me they claim—your hand.

Ceph.
My hand?—alas—that is not mine.

Fola.
Your heart at least.

Ceph.
Dear youth, 'tis thine.
The little all I can, I give.

Fola.
And I, as heav'ns best boon, receive.

Ceph., Fola.
The little all
And I as, &c.

TRIO.
Matil.
Fly, fly!
In, in niece!—as I live,
Here's Buffalo.

Ceph.
(in fright to Fola.)
Good bye!

Fola.
(to her fondly)
Good bye!

Matil.
(to Ceph.)
Fly, fly!

Ceph., Matil., Fola.
Good bye!
[runs off
Fly, fly!
Good bye!

Matil.
Here's Buffalo.

Buff.
(rushing in with his sword drawn)
Yes, here am I.
And wise are they, who fly.

Fola.
(in rage)
Scoundrel you lie.

Matil.
Great fools, say I.

Buff.
(arrogantly)
This arm, who dare oppose?

Fola., Matil.
(scornfullly)
The man who pull'd your nose.
(pleas'd)
'Twill surely come to blows.

Buff., Fola., Matil.
This arm, who,
(drawing and moving towards him)
I, I, who,
(much diverted)
Now, now, 'twill, &c.

Buff.
(retreats, putting up)
Stripling, you owe to the police
That bloodless, I resheath my sword;
For I'm bound over to the peace. (struts.)


Matil.
(laughing)
A good come off, upon my word!

Buff., Matil.
I am bound over,
A good come off, &c.

Fola.
Let this release you, slave!
And this. (kicking him.)


Buff.
(Still affecting courage)
Ay, you can now be brave.
Yes, yes. (Going.)


Matil.
(Pointing at him.)
Out, coward, bully, knave!

Fola.
Take this, and this!

Fola., Matil.
Let this— &c
Out, coward— &c

Buff.
(Going out.)
Ay, you can—&c.

[Exit Buffalo, and afterwards the others.
SCENE, A Chamber, Buffalo solus, musing.
RECITATIVE, accompanied.
Buff.
AIR.

Enter Matilda, as out of breath.
DIALOGUE in Musick.
Buff.
(angrily.)
A fine time o'day,
To be out o' th' way,
Where a plague could you stay?

Matil.
Sure I made no delay.

Buff.
Two hours at least,
Now, when time press'd;

Matil.
You might ha' guess'd,
I'd go t'engage the priest.

Buff.
(still chiding)
You crept,
You slept,

Matil.
(apologizing)
I but to the Conj'ror stept,
And there was kept.

Buff.
(inquisitively)
The Conjuror?

Matil.
Yes, Sir.

Buff.
(solicitously)
What Conj'ror?

Matil.
(solemnly)
Oh! an adept,
Newly slipt down from the regions
Of Luna, attended by legions
Of spirits of every hue.

Buff.
(with surprize)
Indeed!

Matil.
Aye, Sir! a mystic,
Deep read
In Cabalistic,
Astrology,
Necrology,
Tautology,—

Buff.
Is this all true?
(Eagerly)
And can divine?

Matil.
AIR.

RECITATIVE.
Buff.
(aside, ruminating)
This is past coz'nage, no juggling here.
(To her, looking wise)
Astrology was ever held a science
Inscrutable, infallible, incredible.
Such hold it I, and therefore hold firm faith in't.

Matil.
(cajoling him)
Most justly reason'd, Signior!

Buff.
(flattered)
Yes, I propose
To commune with this Sage, from him to learn
All, what my love, or fortunes may concern.—
(Going, stops)
AIR.

[Exit.
As Buffalo goes out, enter (at another Door) Cephisa.
RECITATIVE.
Ceph.
Lord, Aunt! I thought your conf'rence with the Don
Would never end. Where went he?

Matil.
(with affected carelessness)
Just to's Notary,
To perfect a small bond to me.

Ceph.
(amazed)
To you?

Matil.
Yes, poor ten thousand crowns, condition'd solely
That I win you, to place your love on him,
And to discard the Count; that's all. Now, Cephisa!
(As if in earnest)
You must be desp'rate fond.

Ceph.
(with indignation)
Of him? good Heavens!
And you—you to betray me?—'tis too much.
AIR. (in agitation)

RECITATIVE.
Matil.
You thought me serious.

[Laughs heartily.
Ceph.
(disconcerted)
Were you not?

Matil.
Mere joke.
Nay more, we have a plot to terrify him.
Davo will boast the powers of magic art,
And thus disguis'd so work upon his fears,
That he shall trembie at the thoughts of marriage,
And beg Folatre to accept your hand.
AIR.
[Exit.

Ceph.
(smiling)
Sh'as hook'd her gudgeon.—Now, the playing's all.
I'll follow, to be ready at the landing.
(with emotion)
Why palpitates my heart? do I not see
That this clod's pride, and fear, and superstition,
All op'rate to our aid? (sighs)
wou'd 'twere well over!
AIR.
[Exit.