Letters, my Lord, from your brother at Madrid.

Antonio. Signior. (Taking the letters.)

Marquis. (aside while Antonio reads.) Heavens, whence this palpitation? If such are the feelings of my bosom on knowing myself in the same house with her, what must be my agitation on a nearer approach!

Antonio. My letters inform me it is the Marquis who does me the honour of this visit—My Lord, your Lordship—

Jerome. Ha, ha, ha.

Antonio. What's the matter with you?

Jerome. Sir, I was only—

Antonio. Only what? Leave the room.

Jerome. (Aside.) Well I thought the old Don would have found out a woman in any disguise. [Exit.

Antonio. My Lord, you may command my services and friendship, but I fear you will not rate them so highly as I could wish, as you must be debarred the acquaintance and society of my niece—You are no stranger to the vow she has taken?

Marquis. I am not—and yet I flatter myself the manner in which I am spoken of in these letters—

Antonio. Be certain, Sir, my niece shall receive them, urged with all my authority for an interview. Will your Lordship take a turn in the garden while I deliver them and enforce their contents?

Marquis. I will—and should you prove successful, Don Antonio, I shall ever retain the deepest sense of the obligation. [Exit Marquis.

Enter the COUNTESS.

Antonio. Niece, I was this moment coming to you, to bring you these letters from your uncle at Madrid, which you will find recommend, in the strongest manner, to your acquaintance, no other than the young Marquis our neighbour—as fine a youth as ever I saw.

Countess. Ha, ha, ha—is he arrived?—

Antonio. Now in the house—What is the matter?—Did you hear of his intended visit?

Countess. Yes—Ha, ha, ha—how does he look?

Antonio. Delightfully—I don't think I ever saw a handsomer man.

Countess. Man!—Ha, ha, ha, I dare say he looks a little awkward?

Antonio. Aukward! No; he is as elegant in his deportment, and as fine, as finished a young fellow as ever I saw.

Countess. (After looking over the letter.) Certainly, I shall comply with my uncle's request—Let his Lordship be admitted.

Antonio. Niece, I always knew you could not keep your vow—I always knew the very first man that came in your way—crash it would go directly, but let me persuade you to break it by degrees, and not let the world say you made no struggle first.

Countess. Struggle! Now, my dear Uncle, with all your deep discernment, particularly in regard to our sex, to see you at last imposed upon delights me.

Antonio. Imposed upon!

Countess. Yes; for this self-same Marquis is a woman.

Antonio. A woman!

Countess. Yes; this "fine, elegant creature."

Antonio. That is, then, the very reason why I thought her so—"a fine creature,"—now that is intuition, instinct, love without knowing it—But, my dear niece, are you sure you are right? Are you sure you don't deceive me? Don't disappoint me—I can't bear a