University of Virginia Library

ACT I.

SCENE I.

—The Garden of the Count de Dorio—iron gates, C. F.—an alcove, L. U. E.—table and forms, C.
Music.—Groups of Peasantry, in holiday attire, discovered decorating the alcove with a device in flowers, bearing the name of “Georgina”—Old Jeromo, with his wand of office, giving orders.—The decorations being completed, the opening music ceases, and the Peasantry retire to the table to carouse.
CONVIVIAL CHORUS.
Simple is the purple berry,
When upon the stem it grows;
Yet its juice doth make men merry,
When it in the goblet flows.
Then to joy let's tune the lay,
This is Bacchus' holiday.
Huzza! huzza! huzza! huzza!
This is Bacchus' holiday!

Jer.
Ay, marry is it Bacchus' holiday;
And all the Loves and Cupids are invited
To grace our entertainment with their presence.
The fair Georgina, Count de Dorio's daughter,
This night will be espoused, and general joy
Take the command of every honest heart.

Enter Babbla, C. F.
Bab.
And yet, though General Joy may take command
Of every honest heart, I greatly fear
Our joy will not be general after all.

Jer.
And, pr'ythee, wherefore not, Miss Prateapace?

Bab.
For this plain reason, sir: because Georgina,
My honoured mistress, is compelled to wed
Against her inclination. I would give
The world, were I but for one single hour
Placed in her situation.

Jer.
Would you really?
And, were you so, pray how would you proceed?

Bab.
I would assert each woman's honest right
To choose a husband for herself; and fight,
If urged by fate to such extremity,
Aye, like a lion for my privilege!

Jer.
Upon my word, indeed!

Bab.
Father, I'd say,
You have a right to claim obedience
In all things else; but where my happiness
For life's at stake, I cannot—will not yield
Myself a sacrifice.

Jer.
No more of this; such silly prate
Becomes thee not, thou forward, saucy minx!
An' thou repeat thy slander in my presence,
I'll—

Bab.
[Daring him.]
Well, old Graybeard, pray what would you do?
Not much, I'm sure.

Jer.
[Hesitating.]
I'd—wish you—better manners.
[Aside.]
I would not marry her, an' I were young,
Not for a kingly crown. Talk of a comet,
An inundation, fire, or a plague,—
What are they? Nothing—to a woman's tongue!
[To the Peasantry.
Come, neighbours; 'tis our noble lord's command,
That you regale yourselves without reserve.
So follow me into the servants' hall,
Where I've prepared for you a goodly banquet.
Come, come!

[The Chorus is repeated.—Exit Jeromo at the gates, C. F., followed by the Peasantry dancing.
Bab.
Provoking!—Still no news from Genoa,
Whither my lady sent a messenger
To learn some tidings of the Count Fernando,
The youth of her affections. Sancho, too,
His valet—my intended,—not one letter
Have I received from him for twelve long months.
The base, perfidious monster! were he here—
Enter Sancho at the garden gates, C. F., listening.
For causing me, his mistress, such alarms,
I'd fall into a most tremendous passion,
And—

San.
[Coming forward.]
The next moment, fall into his arms!

[Embraces her.
Bab.
What, Sancho! is it you?

San.
It is, indeed.
But don't begin to scold!

Bab.
Not for the world!
Oh! I'm so glad to see you once again!
How have you been since last we met?—Quite well?
[Speaking rapidly.
You've not been wounded in the wars, I hope?
[Turning him round and round.
What dangers have you 'scaped? what wonders seen?
Where have you travelled?—Have you made your fortune?
Now for the news! But, first, where is your master?

San.
If your bewitching tongue should run much faster,
Our swiftest Barbary horse would ne'er o'ertake it.
In the first place, my master will be here
Anon; but as for me, I grieve to say,
Miss-fortune, like a trollop, follows me
Where'er I go;—and, though I'd gladly wed,
And make Dame Fortune of her, she refuses
To smile upon me. Still both safe and sound
I now return; except, indeed, the wound
Those lovely eyes inflicted on this heart,
When last we met, and only met to part.

Bab.
'Tis well your master's come; but one day later
Had cost him his fair mistress; and I doubt
If even now he be arrived in time;
For long ere this the marriage deed is signed.

San.
This news will drive my honoured master mad.
Who, then, is to espouse the fair Georgina?

Bab.
The brave and gallant Marquis Sapparino.

San.
The greatest coward in all Italy!

Bab.
Be cautious what you say!

San.
Marry, for what?
If such a poltroon dare to step between
My master and his love, we'll make him scamper!

Bab.
No violence, or you'll offend Count Dorio,
My lady's father. So, come in with me,
And let us plot together in the cause
Of darling little Cupid.

San.
So we will.

Bab.
Come, Sancho; you and I will do our best.
They merit hate, who lovers never pitied;
And when a woman sets her wits to work—

San.
The devil himself is sure to be outwitted.

[Exeunt, R.
Enter Count Fernando at the gates, C. F.
Fer.
Hail! dear, beloved spot! the blissful scene
Of all my youthful joys! In yonder bower,
How often have I sat with dear Georgina,
Reading her lovely eyes, and listening
To the love warblings of the nightingale!
Alas! that such sweet music should be marred
By the harsh clang of rude, discordant war!
And yet 'twas for Georgina, lovely maid!
I sought at honour's call the field of strife.
A bold invader trampled on the rights
Of my dear country, and each gallant youth
Marched forth to punish his temerity.

RECITATIVO and ARIA.—Count Fernando.
RECITATIVO.
ARIA.

Now, then, to seek the idol of my soul,
My dear, adored Georgina!
[Going.]

Re-enter Babbla and Sancho at the gates, C. F.
Bab.
[Stopping the Count.]
Not so fast!

Fer.
Ah, Babbla! where's thy mistress?

Bab.
At her toilette.

Fer.
I recollect: this is her natal day.

San.
And more than that, signor—

Fer.
[Alarmed.]
More!—Explain.

Bab.
That's quickly done. If lovers stay away
A twelvemonth from their mistresses, nor send
E'en one poor letter to apologise
For their long absence, it were no great wonder
If woman's patience should be quite worn out.

Fer.
I could not write, being a prisoner.
But, speak—what is the drift of this discourse?

San.
In brief, my lord, 'tis neither more nor less
Than this. The fair Georgina, thinking you
No longer living, and having no desire
To die an ancient virgin, hath resolved
To wed that brave and most magnanimous hero,
The Marquis Sapparino.

Fer.
[Impatiently.]
'Sdeath! no more
Of this foul slander of Georgina's truth!
It cannot be!

Bab.
It is most true, my lord:
Georgina weds, yet not with her consent.

Fer.
Then will I rescue her, assert my claim,
And boldly, in the face of heaven and earth,
Chastise the empty-headed fool, who dared
To step between my lady's love and me!
Sancho!

San.
My lord.

Fer.
Get ready my Toledo.

San.
[Drawing a sword.]
'Tis ready, good my lord: your trusty blade
Is bright as woman's eye—sharp as her tongue,
When she maintains wrong's right and right is wrong;
And hard as is her heart, when some poor swain,
Low at her feet, implores for love in vain.

Fer.
[Taking the sword.]
Silence thy idle prate, and follow me!

San.
I fly, my lord!

Bab.
[Impeding them.]
Not from this spot one inch.
Duels, indeed! Not force, but stratagem
Can here avail; therefore be ruled by me.

Fer.
What! and resign my claim to dear Georgina?
Never!

San.
[To Babbla.]
Be ruled by you, and tamely yield
To petticoat dominion? Never! never!

Bab.
[Going.]
Then help yourselves the best you can. Adieu!

San.
Nay, be not angry; 'twas but a jest, love;—
Return, and we'll submit, [Aside.]
since we can't help it.

Bab.
Poor creatures! what pretty sorry figures
You would cut, left to your own resources!
But since you're penitent, rely on me;
I will assist you. [Festive music heard without.]
Hark! hark! the nuptial
Pageant comes.—Retire!—In yonder alcove
You may unobserved mark all that passes.

[Exeunt Fernando, Sancho, and Babbla, hastily, into the alcove, L. U. E.
Music.—Enter Female Peasants, dancing and strewing flowers—Georgina, in a canopy borne by Peasants, followed by Count de Dorio, Jeromo, and Domestics, at the gates, C. F.
GRAND CHORUS.
Tune the lay—tune the lay
To the fair Georgina's praise;
For to us her natal day
Is the happiest of days.
Ever blithe and ever gay
Be Georgina's natal day!
Happy day! happy day!
Happy, happy, happy day!

[Georgina descends from the canopy, and comes forward, C.
Geo.
[To the Peasantry.]
My friends, for your kind love, accept my thanks.
The pleasure now that sparkles in your eyes
Beguiles me of my grief, and makes me smile,
Though I have cause for sorrow.

[Exeunt Peasants, C. F.
Count.
Heaven forbid
That sadness should, on this auspicious morn,
Obscure the sunshine of thy joy, my child!

Geo.
Nor shall it, dearest father; for I know
You will retract your promise, nor compel me
To wed the odious Marquis Sapparino.

Count.
Not wed the marquis!—Wherefore not, Georgina?

Geo.
Because I cannot love him: the painted coxcomb
Ne'er was formed to make a woman happy;—
A wanton butterfly, who, in Love's garden,
Woos every flower, yet constant proves to none.

Count.
My word, fair maid, is pledged; the contract signed,
And every preparation duly made
To celebrate your nuptials with the marquis.

Geo.
I've often heard you say, you loved my mother,
And as a jewel prized her for her truth:
I would but imitate her bright example,
And still prove faithful to my dear Fernando.

Count.
A gallant youth, who perished on the field,
Fighting his country's battles. Come, my child,
Since grief is unavailing, banish sorrow,
And let thy lovely smiles again break forth.

Geo.
[Aside.]
Fernando! shall I never see thee more?

[Fernando looks out impatiently, and is about to rush from the alcove, but is prevented by Babbla and Sancho.
Jer.
[Coming from the gates, C. F.]
My lord, the noble Marquis Sapparino
Now leaves his carriage.

Count.
Fly, and bid him welcome!

Enter the Marquis Sapparino at the gates, C. F.
Mar.
Bon jour, most worthy count!—Georgina, too!
My lovely bride, I must apologise
For this delay; a fatal accident
Having detained me long against my will.

Count.
An accident!

Mar.
You're often heard, no doubt, of Massaroni,
The brigand of the mountains.

Geo.
I am told
He is a generous rover; one who takes,
Sans ceremonie, all the gold he can
From those who have too much, that he may help
With fortune's favours those who have too little.
He's said, besides, to be a handsome fellow.

Mar.
Of that I cannot speak;—he and his band
Were masked when they attacked me. On a sudden,
Just at the entrance of the mountain pass,
“Halt!” cried the brigand chief: “your purse, my lord;
Surrender, or you die!” But, nothing daunted,
I, like a hero, from my carriage sprang,
And fought so bravely, that, in twenty minutes,
As many robbers on the earth lay stretched
Beneath my feet—some dead, and others dying.

Geo.
Miraculous, indeed! Of course, my lord,
Your courage saved your purse?

Mar.
No, by no means:
I left it in the hands of Massaroni,
That the poor devils might employ a surgeon
To heal the wounds my valour had inflicted.

Geo.
When you are dead, his holiness the Pope
Will doubtless canonize you, noble sir,
For your unbounded generosity.

Mar.
If I am generous and valiant,
Are not the smiles of beauty my reward?
With such a bride as my adored Georgina,
The paragon of beauty and perfection—

Geo.
No flattery, my lord, I beg of you:
It is the current coin 'twixt knaves and fools;—
And as, I trust, we do not class with either,
Let us in our commerce use no other
Than the pure, sterling ore of honesty.

Mar.
Nought would I do to give offence to thee,
Beloved of my soul! [To the Count.]
I hope, my lord,
All preparations have been duly made
To celebrate our nuptials on the morrow.

Count.
All that a fond and doting father's heart
Could dictate, hath been done; nor care nor cost
Been spared to grace the joyous festival.

Jer.
Aye, marry; and all under my directions.
The illuminated garden will outshine
The lamps above;—there's fountains spouting wine,
And such a dainty store of provender,
As never banquet yet was served withal.
In brief, my preparations are so ripe,
That no delay could make them more mature;
And if it please your noble excellencies,
The wedding may this night be celebrated.

Re-enter Babbla from the alcove, L. U. E.
Bab.
Not quite so fast, Jeromo, if you please!

Count.
How now! what means this interruption, girl?

Bab.
I crave your lordship's pardon. Was not
My honoured lady long since contracted
To Count Fernando?

Geo.
[Eagerly.]
What of him?—Oh, speak!

Count.
Most truly was she.

Mar.
But he is no more.

Bab.
Are you quite sure of that?

Mar.
Aye, positive;
I'll give you proof incontrovertible.

Bab.
[Apart to Georgina.]
Be comforted, my lady: Count Fernando
Is just returned, and will be here anon.

Geo.
Oh, happy tidings!

[She becomes cheerful.
Mar.
[Calling off, L.]
What, ho! Ladroni!

Enter Ladroni, L.
Lad.
I am here, my lord.

Mar.
Behold my valet—honest, brave Ladroni;
A fellow whose veracity is such,
That he would rather die by lingering tortures,
Than tell a wilful falsehood. Speak, Ladroni:
What know you of the gallant Count Fernando?
Is he not dead?

Lad.
[Taking out his handkerchief, and affecting great sorrow.]
Dead!—Ne'er shall I forget
The fatal day, when, in the field of battle,
He nobly breathed his last, pierced through and through
With fifty wounds, all mortal! Oh, 'twas shocking!

Count.
Alas, poor youth!

Mar.
What were his dying words?

Lad.
With his last breath he cried, “Tell dear Georgina
'Tis my request that she do wed the brave,
The gallant, noble Marquis Sapparino.”

Mar.
What more could you require?

Lad.
Nay, that's not all.
The Count Fernando's servant, honest Sancho,
My bosom friend, was in the self-same battle
Slain by his master's side; and, ere he died,
He took my hand, and said, “My dear Ladroni,
You know my mistress Babbla: 'tis my wish
That you supply my place, and marry her.”

Count Fernando and Sancho suddenly rush from the alcove, L. U. E.—Sancho knocks down Ladroni, and Fernando crosses to Georgina.
Geo.
My dear Fernando!

Fer.
[Embracing her.]
My adored Georgina!

San.
[To Ladroni.]
Not a bad blow, methinks, for a dead man!
That's the reward of your veracity,
Honest Ladroni!

Lad.
[Apart to the Marquis.]
See what I've got by lying for my master!

Count.
[To the Marquis.]
Sir, this is most disgraceful. Pray explain.

Geo.
I will explain, dear father. [Pointedly.]
When the soul
Is void of honour, no means are then too base
To gain a wished-for end—not e'en a lie!
But since my dear Fernando is returned,
No power on earth shall separate us more;
For, in the face of heaven and of man,
I'll keep the vows that bind me to my love!

Count.
Impossible! The marriage contract now
Is signed and sealed—

Mar.
And safe within my power.

Fer.
[To the Marquis.]
Thou paltry, sneaking coward! Let the sword
Decide between us; for no forms of law,
By fraud obtained, shall shield thee from my arm.
Draw, and defend thyself!

[The Marquis retreats.
San.
[To Ladroni, imitating his master.]
Ay, draw, thou slave!

[Ladroni retreats behind Sapparino.
Count.
[Interposing.]
Put up your swords instantly! I command you!

Mar.
Ladroni, come; attend me at my toilette.
[To Fernando.]
Adieu, my fiery lover!—You're too late.
Ha! ha! ha! ha!—I have the contract here!
Ladroni, follow me. Adieu! adieu!

[Exeunt Sapparino, Ladroni, and Jeromo, at the gates, C. F.
Count.
Exceedingly do I regret, Fernando,
That you arrived not sooner.

Geo.
My dear father!
And can no means be possibly devised
To break this hated contract?

Count.
None, my child.
My honour's pledged; besides, the penalty
Is heavy if I fail in its fulfilment.

Geo.
Honour binds only with the honourable:
The marquis is a coxcomb and a coward.

Count.
Give me but proof of that, and I, without
Delay, will break the marriage contract.

Fer.
Did he not even now refuse to fight?

Count.
I'll have no duelling, which, in my eyes,
At best is only honourable murder.
I ask some other proof. Suppose, for instance,
Our villa were this night to be attacked
By Massaroni and his band of brigands,—
And such events we know are very common,—
Should then the marquis prove himself a coward,
And young Fernando here make stout resistance
In our defence, that would decide the point;
And he, and none but he, should wed my daughter,
E'en though the penalty were all my fortune.

[Exit, L.
Geo.
Enough, dear father! [Calling.]
Babbla!

Bab.
[Running forward.]
Yes, my lady;

Geo.
[After whispering to her.]
What think you of my plan?

Bab.
[Clapping her hands.]
'Tis excellent!

Geo.
And will you join me in it?

Bab.
Aye, my lady,
With heart and hand. Oh! I'm so delighted!

Fer.
[To Georgina.]
What plan is this?

San.
[To Babbla.]
Aye, tell me all about it.

Geo.
[To Fernando.]
Pray have a little patience! So, it seems,
Men are as fond of secrets as the women.
See, Babbla, with what eagerness they stand
On the tiptoe of curiosity!
[To Fernando, playfully.
You'd like to hear my plan, now—wouldn't you?

Fer.
Most certainly, my love.

San.
And so should I.

Geo.
[Mysteriously.]
Come hither, then, and listen with attention;
But, hush! for if you breathe one single syllable
Of what I now impart—

Fer.
Not for the world!

Geo.
Then you must know, that—upon second thoughts,
I'd wish you both to—have—a little patience!

Fer.
Provoking!

San.
How tormenting!

Geo. & Bab.
[Laughing.]
Ha! ha! ha!

Geo.
[Sarcastically.]
You gentlemen are not at all inclined
To fish for secrets—oh! not for the world!
'Tis women only who are curious!
Now, Babbla, fly, and execute my orders!

Bab.
I will, my lady, with the speed of lightning.

San.
[Apart to Babbla.]
Come, you'll tell me the secret—won't you, Babbla?

Bab.
Oh, certainly; but—have a little patience!

[Exeunt Babbla and Sancho at the gates, C. F.
Geo.
Fernando, be not angry.

Fer.
With Georgina?
How were that possible? And yet this secret—

Geo.
Must still remain one, till it is betrayed
By tell-tale Time, who blabs out everything.
Yet trust me, love, whate'er I've planned, my object
Is to promote our mutual happiness.

Fer.
[Kneeling.]
That dear assurance blunts the eager spur
Of curiosity, and teaches patience
During your sov'reign pleasure.

Geo.
[Archly.]
How submissive!
That's as it should be! Men ne'er look so silly
As when they would be wise; affecting power,
Calling themselves the Lords of the Creation,
And boasting of their high prerogatives!
[Winningly giving him her hand.
Forgive me, dear Fernando!—When my tongue
Doth wanton most, my heart is most sincere.

Fer.
To teaze and banter is Love's greatest pleasure.

Geo.
And gives rare sport; that is, in modest measure.
I little thought this morning, when bright Phœbus
Gave me a glowing kiss, and chid me sluggard,
That his departing rays, when in the west
He gently sinks into his golden slumbers,
Would leave me happy as the nightingales
That carol him to rest! Yet, Heaven be praised!
The magic power of love—thy love, Fernando,
Hath caused rich joy to banquet in my heart.
[Hanging affectionately on his shoulder.
Full well I knew, if heaven contained thee not,
Thou wouldst again return to thy Georgina,
And be her heaven below! [They embrace.]
Thus, reunited,
For all my griefs I richly am requited!

DUET.—Georgina and Count Fernando.
Geo.
Love is the magnet of the soul,
Which, wheresoe'er we roam,
Fails not the passions to control,
And draw the wand'rer home.

Fer.
Love guides the tender turtle dove
O'er ocean, hill, and plain;
Swift as the lightning from above,
To seek his mate again.

Geo.
Love—love alone gave Nature birth;
Love blooms in ev'ry flower;
Love smiles in sunshine on the earth,
And weeps in ev'ry shower.

Both.
For love's the magnet of the soul,
Which, wheresoe'er we roam,
Fails not the passions to control,
And draw the wand'rer home.

[Exeunt, C. F.

SCENE II.

—A Landscape.
Enter Rosa, with a basket on her arm, L.
Rosa.
How fortunate!—Count Dorio's fête to-day
Proved a good market for us flower-girls.
My basket's empty, and my purse is full.
How my poor mother will rejoice to hear
Of my success!—And now that I have money,
I'll buy a flask of wine to comfort her;
For poverty is grievous in old age.
There is to be a masquerade to-night;
So I'll run home, and get a fresh supply
[Going, R.
Of flowers for the motley company.
And while I sell them, I shall see the sports,
Uniting business with recreation.
Now, then, away to my dear, happy home!

Enter Ladroni, hastily, with a letter, R., meeting her.
Lad.
A word with you, my pretty little Flora.

Rosa.
You are mistaken, sir; my name's not Flora.

Lad.
It matters not, my love. Say, are not you
The pretty maid, who at Count Dorio's villa
Sold flowers to the guests?

Rosa.
One of the maids
I am; but whether pretty, sir, or not,
Becomes not me to say.

Lad.
What modesty!
I swear to thee by my veracity,
Thou art by far the fairest specimen
Of rustic beauty, Nature ever formed.
Pr'ythee, sweet sylvan nymph, what is thy name?

SONG.—Rosa.
Air, “How sweet are the flowers,” &c., from Tekeli.

Lad.
Since Rosa is thy name, most charming rosebud,
Peruse this letter from my noble master,
The Marquis Sapparino.

Rosa.
[Taking the letter.]
What! the bridegroom
Of the Count Dorio's daughter, fair Georgina?

Lad.
The very same.

Rosa.
[Opening the letter.]
What can he want with me?
[Reading.]
“Sweet violet, blooming in obscurity—”
A singular beginning for a letter!
[Reads.
“The nosegay which I bought of thee this morning
Contained some beauteous flowers, but none so sweet
As thy dear self. I therefore long to wear thee,
Most charming of all rosebuds, in my bosom.
Come to the masquerade this evening,
Where we may have a tender interview,
Unknown and unobserved. My valet waits
Thy verbal answer—merely yes or no.
If yes, the gods might wish my bliss to share;
If no, my doom is madness and despair!

“Marquis Sapperino.”

A most delightful letter, I declare!

Lad.
What is your answer, pretty Rosa?

Rosa.
Yes!

Lad.
Enough; and as an earnest of his bliss,
My master ordered me to bring a kiss
From thy dear lips, or pluck a blooming rose
From off those lovely cheeks.

[Offers to kiss her.
Rosa.
[Boxing his ear.]
Then take it, coxcomb!

Lad.
Oh, Jupiter! my cheek is all on fire!

Rosa.
It is the rose your master ordered you
To bring him. [Laughing.]
Ha! ha! ha!

Lad.
[Aside.]
The little vixen!
[Aloud.]
But you'll be sure to come?

Rosa.
I answer, yes.

Lad.
[Aside, rubbing his cheek.]
To give a man of my veracity
Such striking proofs of her impertinence,
Is horrible! But I will have revenge!

[Exit, L.
Rosa.
A pretty fellow, truly, is this marquis!
Just on the eve of marriage, too, to think
Of laying snares for a poor flower-girl,
Whose only fortune is her honesty!
But I'll expose the villain, when he dreams
Himself the most secure! This assignation
I'll punctually keep. A pretty rosebud
He calls me, and would wear me in his bosom!
The knave! but he shall rue his treachery:
As true as I a rustic maid was born,
I'll make him feel the rosebud hath its thorn!

[Exit, R.

SCENE III.

—An elegant Chamber in the Villa of Count Dorio—doors R. and L.
Enter Count Fernando, R.
Fer.
[Calling.]
What ho! where art thou, Sancho?!

Enter Sancho, L.
San.
Here, my lord.

Fer.
The brigand Massaroni hath been seen
Watching the guests now flocking to the villa,
To share Count Dorio's hospitality.
'Tis not unlikely but the lawless bandit
May venture an attack, in hopes of plunder.

San.
We'll give him, if he dare, a warm reception!

Fer.
See that Count Dorio's vassals be assembled,
And well instructed in the use of arms.

San.
I shall obey, my lord.

Fer.
What would I give
To see the brigands, like a mountain torrent,
Rush down upon the villa! It would then
Be seen who is a coward, and who is not.

San.
If it so please your lordship, speak the word,
And I will fly like lightning to the mountains,
And, in your name, give Signor Massaroni
An invitation to the masquerade.

Fer.
Peace, blockhead! If he came by accident,
It would rejoice me; but if at my bidding,
Were I not an accomplice in his crimes?

San.
Most truly. I forgot that circumstance.

Fer.
See that thou punctually obey my orders.
Fate! give me but an opportunity
Of wielding this good sword for dear Georgina,
And we are friends! Come, Sancho, follow me!

[Exit, L.
San.
I come, my lord. And all I ask the gods
Is but a chance to show how I would fight,
In field or battery, by day or night,
On foot, on back of charger, mule, or poney,
For my dear Babbla, 'gainst this Massaroni!

[Exit, L.
Enter Georgina and Babbla, R.
Geo.
Have my commands been punctually obeyed?

Bab.
Even, my lady, to the very letter.

Geo.
What think you of my project, Babbla? say.

Bab.
That it's well worthy of a woman's head,
But whether woman's heart hath resolution
To execute it, really I've my doubts.

Geo.
Then banish them, and let bold certainty
Inspire thee with confidence. Why, girl,
Reflect: it is for sacred Love we fight,
And that dear name puts coward fear to flight.
Say, where are the fair candidates for fame?

Bab.
They wait without.

Geo.
Admit them instantly.
Enter several young Ladies, the friends and companions of Georgina.
Companions of my youth, accept my thanks
For your prompt acquiescence in a plan
Inspired by love; and, although fraught with peril,
Still nothing to the noble resolution
That flashes from your eyes. Where danger threatens,
The brave fail not to reap a glorious harvest.
Say, are you willing then to follow me,
And boldly to the world your courage prove
In the defence of persecuted love?

Ladies.
We are resolved!

Geo.
Thanks—thanks, my gallant friends!

FINALE.—Solo and Grand Chorus.
Air, “All the blue bonnets are over the border.”
SOLO.—Georgina.
March! march! 'tis at young Cupid's call;
Glory to her who her life for him loses!
March! march! pretty maids one and all;
No gallant youth will love her who refuses.
Then, without fear, let us on to the battle-field,
There, amidst danger, to prove our affection;
Never—no, never, not even in death, to yield,
For valour it is that crowns love with perfection.

GRAND CHORUS. [-Ladies]
March! march! 'tis at young Cupid's call;
Glory to her who her life for him loses!
March! march! pretty maids one and all;
No gallant youth will love her who refuses.

[Georgina places herself at the head of her companions, and they march off, L. U. E.