Enter
Marquis.
Ah, this creature—where's your wife?
Receiving the adulations of her adoring guests, as her lovely white hand touches the trembling lute. O—h !
Ah, I have an appointment ill my gift, Grand Master of the Aviary. Instruct the Marchioness to play a part as I direct, the appointment is yours.
I, Grand Master of the Royal Aviary, with a pension of——. What part is the divine Marchioness to play, Don Jose? Is it on the lute? She'll suspend your every faculty with a single chord.
Bah, lute, no, no, I'll tell you,—this way.