SCENE III.—_ISABEL’S Garret. ISABEL and INES.

_Isab._ What noise is that on the stairs?

_Enter REBOLLEDO._

_Reb._ Sanctuary! Sanctuary!

_Isab._ Who are you, sir?

_Enter Captain._

_Capt._ Where is the rascal?

_Isab._ A moment, sir! This poor man has flown to our feet for protection; I appeal to you for it; and no man, and least of all an officer, will refuse that to any woman.

_Capt._ I swear no other arm than that of beauty, and beauty such as yours, could have withheld me. (_To REBOLLEDO._) You may thank the deity that has saved you, rascal.

_Isab._ And I thank you, sir.

_Capt._ And yet ungratefully slay me with your eyes in return for sparing him with my sword.

_Isab._ Oh, sir, do not mar the grace of a good deed by poor compliment, and so make me less mindful of the real thanks I owe you.

_Capt._ Wit and modesty kiss each other, as well they may, in that lovely face. (_Kneels._)

_Isab._ Heavens! my father!

_Enter CRESPO and JUAN with swords._

_Cres._ How is this, sir? I am alarmed by cries of murder in my house—am told you have pursued a poor man up to my daughter’s room; and, when I get here expecting to find you killing a man, I find you courting a woman.

_Capt._ We are all born subjects to some dominion—soldiers especially to beauty. My sword, though justly raised against this man, as justly fell at this lady’s bidding.

_Cres._ No lady, sir, if you please; but a plain peasant girl—my daughter.

_Juan_ (_aside_). All a trick to get at her. My blood boils. (_Aloud to Captain._) I think, sir, you might have seen enough of my father’s desire to serve you to prevent your requiting him by such an affront as this.

_Cres._ And, pray, who bid thee meddle, boy? Affront! what affront? The soldier affronted his captain; and if the captain has spared him for thy sister’s sake, pray what hast thou to say against it?

_Capt._ I think, young man, you had best consider before you impute ill intention to an officer.

_Juan._ I know what I know.

_Cres._ What! you will go on, will you?

_Capt._ It is out of regard for you I do not chastise him.

_Cres._ Wait a bit; if that were wanting, ’twould be from his father, not from you.

_Juan._ And, what’s more, I wouldn’t endure it from any one but my father.

_Capt._ You would not?

_Juan._ No! death rather than such dishonour!

_Capt._ What, pray, is a clodpole’s idea of honour?

_Juan._ The same as a captain’s—no clodpole no captain, I can tell you.

_Capt._ ’Fore Heaven, I must punish this insolence. (_About to strike him._)

_Cres._ You must do it through me, then.

_Reb._ Eyes right!—Don Lope!

_Capt._ Don Lope!

_Enter DON LOPE._

_Lope._ How now? A riot the very first thing I find on joining the regiment? What is it all about?

_Capt._ (_aside_). Awkward enough!

_Cres._ (_aside_). By the lord, the boy would have held his own with the best of ’em.

_Lope._ Well! No one answer me? ’Fore God, I’ll pitch the whole house, men, women, and children, out of windows, if you don’t tell me at once. Here have I had to trail up your accursed stairs, and then no one will tell me what for.

_Cres._ Nothing, nothing at all, sir.

_Lope._ Nothing? that would be the worst excuse of all: but swords aren’t drawn for nothing; come, the truth?

_Capt._ Well, the simple fact is this, Don Lope; I am quartered upon this house; and one of my soldiers—

_Lope._ Well, sir, go on.

_Capt._ Insulted me so grossly I was obliged to draw my sword on him. He ran up here where it seems these two girls live; and I, not knowing there was any harm, after him; at which these men, their father or brother, or some such thing, take affront. This is the whole business.

_Lope._ I am just come in time then to settle it. First, who is the soldier that began it with an act of insubordination?

_Reb._ What, am I to pay the piper?

_Isab._ (_pointing to REB._). This, sir, was the man who ran up first.

_Lope._ This? handcuff him!

_Reb._ Me! my lord?

_Capt._ (_aside to REB._). Don’t blab, I’ll bear you harmless.

_Reb._ Oh, I dare say, after being marcht off with my hands behind me like a coward. Noble commander, ’twas the captain’s own doing; he made me pretend a quarrel, that he might get up here to see the women.

_Cres._ I _had_ some cause for quarrel, you see.

_Lope._ Not enough to peril the peace of the town for. Halloa there! beat all to quarters on pain of death. And, to prevent further ill blood here, do you (_to the Captain_) quarter yourself elsewhere till we march. I’ll stop here.

_Capt._ I shall of course obey you, sir.

_Cres._ (_to ISABEL_). Get you in. (_Exeunt ISAB. and INES._) I really ought to thank you heartily for coming just as you did, sir; else, I’d done for myself.

_Lope._ How so?

_Cres._ I should have killed this popinjay.

_Lope._ What, sir, a captain in his Majesty’s service?

_Cres._ Ay, a general, if he insulted me.

_Lope._ I tell you, whoever lays his little finger on the humblest private in the regiment, I’ll hang him.

_Cres._ And I tell you, whoever points his little finger at my honour, I’ll cut him down before hanging.

_Lope._ Know you not, you are bound by your allegiance to submit?

_Cres._ To all cost of property, yes; but of honour, no, no, no! My goods and chattels, ay, and my life—are the king’s; but my honour is my own soul’s, and that is—God Almighty’s!

_Lope._ ’Fore God, there’s some truth in what you say.

_Cres._ ’Fore God, there ought to be, for I’ve been some years saying it.

_Lope._ Well, well. I’ve come a long way, and this leg of mine (which I wish the devil who gave it would carry away with him!) cries for rest.

_Cres._ And who prevents its taking some? the same devil I suppose, who gave you your leg, gave me a bed (which I don’t want him to take away again, however) on which your leg may lie if it like.

_Lope._ But did the devil, when he was about it, make your bed as well as give it?

_Cres._ To be sure he did.

_Lope._ Then I’ll unmake it—Heaven knows I’m weary enough.

_Cres._ Heaven rest you then.

_Lope._ (_aside_). Devil or saint alike he echoes me.

_Cres._ (_aside_). I and Don Lope never shall agree.