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