University of Virginia Library

SCENE VII.

—A Forest, with the mouth of a Cavern on one side, L.
Enter Theodore hastily, with a drawn sword.
The.
At length I've gained the forest—here 'tis said
A hermit hides his venerable head;
His food the berries, and his friend a cat;
His drink the torrent, and the sky his hat;
The pool his foot-bath, and, the truth to tell,
His lodging, like himself, a regular cell!
I've dressed myself in arm our very bright,
Though not exceedingly inclined to fight!

SONG—Theodore.
(Air—“Jeanet and Jeanot.”)
Oh, when folly leads the way who'd be madly rushing on,
Never thinking if they kill you that your glory all is gone;
If you win the day, perhaps a general you'll be,
But if you get some awkward raps then diff'rent 'twould be.
Oh, if I were now in France, or could ever pop to Rome,
I suppose I should be fighting, so I'd rather stop at home,
All the world would be at peace, and all things would go right,
If those who made the quarrels were the only ones to fight.

Enter Isabella, R.
Isa.
What noise was that?—There's some one on my track:
My gracious! if it should be Spring-heeled Jack!

The.
Among the trees, what means that sudden bustle?
Your name?—that rustling seems to answer “Russell.”

Isa.
'Tis I! (falls at his feet.)


The.
The! voice I know—its tones reveal
No Russell, but a well remembered Peal—
Surely thou art—

Isa.
I am indeed! And you—
Or can I be mistaken?

The.
No, 'tis true!

Isa.
Thou'rt sent in quest of me?—Oh! don't deny it—
You are a spy, and get your living by it.
To Manfred don't surrender me—you smile—
Trust me, young man, I'll make it worth your while.

The.
Fair lady, your suspicions I must spurn,
Altho' I only live by what I earn;
And tho' my earnings now are nought per diem,
As to my principles, you shall not buy 'em,
Tho' you illiberally crack and try 'em.

Isa.
Your words have re-assured me, noble youth!
They bear the affidavit stamp of truth.

The.
Surely you need repose: in yon retreat
'Tis possible that you may find a seat;
That snug recess was formerly a tavern,
Until a hermit took it for a cavern:
He was sold up, for rent long in arrear,
And now the place stands empty, as I hear—
Suppose we take possession.

[As they are going to enter, Vincenza darts out, and stops her.
Vin.
Ho! I say,
My orders are, you cannot pass this way.

The.
And who art thou, daring to raise this din?

Vin.
A special constable—I'm just sworn in.

The.
If that's the fact—excuse my observation—
As a policeman, learn to know your station.

Vin.
I'm searching for a maid of rarest beauty.

The.
I see, you've entered on policeman's duty.
Pray may I ask, since for a maid you look,
Whether it is the housemaid or the cook?

Vin.
Unworthy thought! I am no kitchen knight—
My duty takes me to a higher flight.
Down area steps no beauty can I see—
The drawing room is the area for me.
I'm looking for the lovely Isabella,
So if you chance to see her, p'rhaps you'll tell her.

The.
(aside.)
This fellow's too mysterious by half;
This Special may be one of Manfred's staff.
(aloud).
The lady that you seek you cannot see.
If you've a message for her give it me.

Vin.
Oh, that I'm not at all inclined to do.

The.
Then, by my faith, here goes to give it you.

[Draws and attacks Vincenza.
DUET—Theodore and Vincenza.
Air.—“Punch's Quadrille.”
The.
Now keep your ground, sir.

Vin.
I will, you may be bound, sir.

The.
On it, you'll be found, sir.

Vin.
Cock-a-doodle-doo!

(They fight.)
The.
Ah! you felt that stroke, sir.

Vin.
Pooh! that's but a joke, sir.

The.
Look! (Vin. turns round.)
there's another poke sir.

Vin.
He nearly run me through.
Sure such a baby
Can't my fame demolish.

The.
Now then, old gaby,
Soon you off I'll polish;
There.

Vin.
Where?

The.
Right through your gizzard.

Vin.
Oh! I'm diddled!
There, that's enough. Excuse—these words, disjointed—
There, that's enough. Excuse—these words, disjointed—
But your—attack on—me—is—very—pointed.

The.
Had your submission, sir, been less distinct,
Till all is blue you surely had been pink'd;
But since you cry enough, your life I spare.

Vin.
Perhaps who I am, young man, you're not aware.

The.
Acquaintance with you, sir, I cannot claim.
Have you a card about you with your name?

Vin.
I've not; but little difference 'twould make,
For we've, I fear, been fighting by mistake.
I took thee for Count Manfred's hated tool;
And you took me—

The.
For an egregious fool.

Vin.
Sir, I'm the Count Vincenza.

The.
Then I doubt
If in my reckoning I was so much out.

Vin.
Send Isabella what I have to say,
In my weak state, would take at least a day.

The.
(leads Isabella from cavern).
I've done a thing you won't approve, mayhap,
In wounding this respectable old chap.
He's a relation of your own, I fear,
But still, you see, he had no business here.

Isa.
You're very right—his was a foolish whim—
He stuck at nothing, and you stuck at him.
I'm very sorry for the aged knight,
But still the verdict must be, “Serve him right.”

[She approaches Vincenza.
Vin.
Fair lady, am I right? Can you be she?
If so disguise is useless—I am he.

Isa.
Since your identity you thus confess,
And ask if I am she—I answer, yes.

The.
These he's and she's puzzle me more and more.
Are you not now what you have been before?

Vin.
(to Isabella.)
When you were young, no bigger than my fist,
I placed a wedding-ring upon your wrist.
Say, is it there?

Isa.
I cannot see it.

Vin.
Stay,
To trace your birth there is another way.
A cambric handkerchief do you possess?

Isa.
I think I've half a dozen, more or less.

Vin.
Six proofs instead of one!—I shall go wild.
The 'kerchief shows the tie—my child! my child!

[They embrace.
The.
So far so good; but still 'tis doubtful rather!
Tho' she's your daughter, prove how you're her father.

Isa.
I've heard it said, by gossips in my youth,
Tho' I can't vouch exactly for the truth,
That in my father's eye there could be seen
A wondrous gooseberry of bottle green.

The.
(looking at Vincenza.)
The signal you may easily descry;
There is a little green about his eye.

Vin.
How wondrously Nature its purpose suits,
Making it easy to detect its fruits.

The.
How kind—a gooseberry in your eye to place,
By which to mark the current of your race.

Vin.
Back to Otranto's Castle let us go,
Some wholesome truth I'll let Count Manfred know.
In prophecy I'm tolerably skill'd;
The following old one wants to be fulfilled:
“Find an old casque the monster sword to match,
And for your daughter there will be a catch.
One of Alphonso's race will then protect her,
And quiet a respectable old Spectre.”

The.
These words are full of import, there's no doubt,
If we could only find the meaning out.

Vin.
Let's to the castle.

The.
Manfred we'll unmask;
I'll have another dip into that casque.