signed it than she drops her assumed modesty. Ernesto, who is present,
is bewildered at the condition of affairs, but is kept quiet by a sign
from the Doctor. Norina refuses all the Don's amatory demonstrations,
and declares Ernesto shall be her escort. She summons the servants,
and lays out a scheme of housekeeping so extravagant that the Don is
enraged, and declares he will not pay the bills. She insists he shall,
for she is now master of the house. In the third act we find Norina
entertaining milliners and modistes. Don Pasquale enters, and learning
that she is going to the theatre forbids it, which leads to a quarrel,
during which Norina boxes his ears. As she leaves the room she drops a
letter, the reading of which adds the pangs of jealousy to his other
troubles. The Doctor at this juncture happens in and condoles with
him. The Don insists that Norina shall quit his house at once. In the
next scene he taxes her with having a lover concealed in the house,
and orders her to leave. The Doctor counsels him to let his nephew
marry Norina; and in the course of explanations the Don discovers that
the Doctor's sister and Norina are one and the same person, and that
the marriage was a sham. He is only too glad of an escape to quarrel
with the Doctor for his plot, and the young couple are speedily
united, and have the old man's blessing.

The charm of the opera lies in its comic situations, and the gay,
bright music with which they are illustrated. It is replete with humor
and spirit, and flows along in such a bright stream that it is almost
impossible to cull out special numbers, though it contains two duets
and a quartet which are of more than ordinary beauty, and the
exquisite serenade in the last act, "Com'e gentil," which has been
heard on almost every concert-stage of the world, and still holds its
place in universal popular esteem. For brilliant gayety it stands in
the front rank of all comic operas, though Donizetti was but three
weeks in writing it. It is said that when it was in rehearsal its fate
was uncertain. The orchestra and singers received it very coldly; but
when the rehearsal was over, Donizetti merely shrugged his shoulders
and remarked to his friend, M. Dormoy, the publisher: "Let them alone;
they know nothing about it. I know what is the matter with 'Don
Pasquale.' Come with me." They went to the composer's house. Rummaging
among a pile of manuscripts, Donizetti pulled out a song. "This is
what 'Don