The writer _would_ respectfully have it understood that _he_ is in no way responsible for this astounding free and easy marriage; far be it from him so to dispose of brides. But he opines that ’tis a way they have in Spain. Upon that notarial announcement, the don was faint with joy, and the next moment he was nearly faint with surprise. For hardly was the contract completed, hardly had the astounding notarial intimation been given, than the bride throws aside her veil, and with it her meek look. Let it not, however, he said she assumed a bold look--say rather, an easy, cool, pleasant countenance. The don advanced towards the lady to give her a marital embrace, but she gently pushed him back. “Softly pray; calm your ardor; you should first entreat permission.” “And I do!”-- “And I do _not_ permit.” The don fell plump upon his chair, and looked unmeaningly after the notary, who was quietly withdrawing. “Ah, ah, oh,” said the youth Ernesto, as he saw the blank expression on his uncle’s face. “Sir Nephew, how dare you laugh. Quit this house. Begone!” “Begone, don, fie!” said the new wife contemptuously. “What rudeness! Pray remain, sir.” Then turning rapidly to the don, she said, “I must teach you better manners.” “Doctor Malatesta!” said the astounded don. “Don Pasquale!” said the doctor in the same tone. “This is quite another woman, doctor.” “I am turned to stone, don.” “What does she mean?” “By your leave, I’ll ask her.” And the doctor luckily turned away, for his red face was quivering. As for the lady Norina, she marched with dignity up to and against the don, and thus terribly spoke. “You are too old, too stout, too slow, to take charge of a young wife through the streets; this young cavalier shall be my BEAU!” “Oh, dear NO.” “And pray who will prevent it?” “_I_ will.” “You said--” “_I_ will.” “_In_deed.” (Here she tenderly approached him, and stroked his friendly old grey head.) “Dear husband; now forget those horrid words ‘I will,’ or at least leave them with me, with me alone, for the wife _should_ be obeyed.” “But--but!” “But us no buts, dear man. Be still, I say. What, are you one of those men who will not be led by kindness? what, would you dare!” Here there was a dull rap distinctly heard, it was a knock on the don’s expostulating knuckles. “Am I awake?” asked the don of himself. “What has happened? blows I think! Pray what shall come next?” In fact, the don looked as though petrified--dreaming--struck by lightning, as though he were anybody but himself. “Courage, don, courage,” said the doctor. “Courage, oh dear,” said Don Pasquale, the married man sinking lower and lower in his chair. Suddenly the new lady of the house flew at the bell, and rang it till the room seemed made of bells. As a servant entered, she cast the implement at him. “Let all the servants come directly, rascal.” “Oh, heavens!” sighed Don Pasquale. Two servants and the steward came running in a moment after at a tremendous pace.