In the first scene of the piece, the curtain rising displays la belle Fanny sitting at her embroidery in the midst of a beautiful garden, surrounded with statues, fountains, &c.  At the back is seen a pavillion in the ancient Moorish style of architecture, over which hang the branches of some large and shady trees—­she comes forward, expressing her impatience at the delay of her lover, whose absence she tortures herself to account for by a hundred different suppositions, and after a very sufficient expose of her feelings, and some little explanatory details of her private history, conveying a very clear intimation of her own amiability, and her guardian’s cruelty, she proceeds, after the fashion of other young ladies similarly situated, to give utterance to her feelings by a song; after, therefore, a suitable prelude from the orchestra, for which, considering the impassioned state of her mind, she waits patiently, she comes forward and begins a melody—­

          “Oh why is he far from the heart that adores him?”

in which, for two verses, she proceeds with sundry sol feggio’s, to account for the circumstances, and show her disbelief of the explanation in a very satisfactory manner,—­meanwhile, for I must not expose my reader to an anxiety on my account, similar to what the dear Fanny here laboured under, I was making the necessary preparations for flying to her presence, and clasping her to my heart—­that is to say, I had already gummed on a pair of mustachios, had corked and arched a ferocious pair of eyebrows, which, with my rouged cheeks, gave me a look half Whiskerando, half Grimaldi; these operations were performed, from the stress of circumstances, sufficiently near the object of my affections, to afford me the pleasing satisfaction of hearing from her own sweet lips, her solicitude about me—­in a word, all the dressing-rooms but two were filled with hampers of provisions, glass, china, and crockery, and from absolute necessity, I had no other spot where I could attire myself unseen, except in the identical pavillion already alluded to—­here, however, I was quite secure, and had abundant time also, for I was not to appear till scene the second, when I was to come forward in full Spanish costume, “every inch a Hidalgo.”  Meantime, Fanny had been singing—­

“Oh why is he far,” &c. &c.

At the conclusion of the last verse, just as she repeats the words “why, why, why,” in a very distracted and melting cadence, a voice behind startles her—­she turns and beholds her guardian—­so at least run the course of events in the real drama—­that it should follow thus now however, “Dus aliter visum”—­for just as she came to the very moving apostrophe alluded to, and called out, “why comes he not?”—­a gruff voice from behind answered in a strong Cork brogue—­“ah! would ye have him come in a state of nature?” at the instant a loud whistle rang through the house, and the pavillion scene slowly drew up, discovering