[Holding it up to the light. Rod. Ped. Rod. Ped. Rod. Ped. Rod. 412 Ped. Rod. Ped. Did he say that? Rod. Ay, he did, indeed. Enter Don Silvio musingly behind—he stops and listens. Don Silvio Ped. Why then he'll do 't; that is, if our old lord Do not peaceably give up his daughter. Rod. Oh, it's horrible, horrible. Poor child! 413 Ped. Horrible for us to be turned adrift. Poor child, indeed! the best thing that could hap, I wish the little jade no better luck. The daughter of a threadbare miser. She Turn up her nose at such a match as this! I can't think what our master's scruples are To such a union. Luck seems on his side. Rod. Hush. You forget her age, the poor dear child Has scarce arrived at puberty, and then