_Don Scipio._ Ha! ha! ha! Well, you know, though ill bestowed, I must try my interest at Madrid.--Children, I ask your pardon; forgive me, Victoria, and take my blessing in return.

_Vict._ And do you, sir, acknowledge me for your child?

_Don Scipio._ I do, I do; and my future kindness shall make amends for my past cruelty.

_Ped._ Ha, here comes my sposa--Eh! got a beau already?

_Enter ALPHONSO and LORENZA._

_Don Caesar._ My beloved Lorenza!

} [_Embrace._ _Lor._ My dearest.

_Don Alph._ My good captain! as I knew this lady only by the name of Victoria, you little imagined, in your friendly promises to me, you were giving away your Lorenza; but, had I then known we both loved the same mistress, I should, ere now, have relinquished my pretensions.

_Lor._ My good-natured Alphonso! Accept my grat.i.tude, my esteem; but my love is, and ever was, in the possession of----

_Don Caesar._ Dear father, this is the individual lady whose beauty, grace, and angelic voice, captivated my soul at Florence; if she can abase her spotless mind, to think upon a wretch stained with crimes, accompany her pardon with your approbation.

_Don Scipio._ Isabel has been too good, and I too bad a parent!--Ha!

ha! ha! then fate has decreed you are to be my daughter, some way or other.

_Ped._ Yes; but has fate decreed that my sposa is to be another man's wife?

_Spado._ And, sir, [_To SCIPIO._] if fate has decreed that your son is not to be hanged, let the indulgence extend to the humblest of his followers.

[_Bows low._

_Don Scipio._ Ha! ha! ha! Well, though I believe you a great, little rogue, yet it seems you have been the instrument of bringing about things just as they should be.

_Don Juan._ They are not as they should be, and I tell you again, Don Scipio, I will have----

_Don Scipio._ Well, and shall have--a bottle of the best wine in Andalusia, sparkling Muscadel, bright as Victoria's eye, and sweet as Lorenza's lip: hey, now for our brace of weddings--where are the violins, lutes, and cymbals? I say, let us be merry in future; and past faults our good-humoured friends will forget and forgive.

GLEE.--FINALE.

_Social powers, at pleasure's call,_ _Welcome here to Hymen's hall;_ _Bacchus, Ceres, bless the feast,_ _Momus lend the sprightly jest,_ _Songs of joy elate the soul,_ _Hebe fill the rosy bowl,_ _Every chaste and dear delight_ _Crown with joy this happy night._

[Exeunt.

THE END.