SCENE I.—_In Zalamea.

_Enter DON MENDO and NUÑO._

_Men._ Who told you all this?

_Nuñ._ Ginesa, her wench.

_Men._ That, whether that riot in the house were by accident or design, the captain has ended by being really in love with Isabel.

_Nuñ._ So as he has as little of comfort in his quarters as we of eatable in ours—ever under her window, sending her messages and tokens by a nasty little soldier of his.

_Men._ Enough, enough of your poisoned news.

_Nuñ._ Especially on an empty stomach.

_Men._ Be serious, Nuño. And how does Isabel answer him?

_Nuñ._ As she does you. Bless you, she’s meat for your masters.

_Men._ Rascal! This to me! (_Strikes him._)

_Nuñ._ There! two of my teeth you’ve knockt out, I believe: to be sure they weren’t of much use in your service.

_Men._ By Heaven, I’ll do so to that captain, if—

_Nuñ._ Take care, he’s coming, sir.

_Men._ (_aside to NUÑO_). This duel shall be _now_—though night be advancing on—before discretion come to counsel milder means. Come, and help me arm.

_Nuñ._ Lord bless me, sir, what arms have you got except the coat over the door?

_Men._ In my armoury I doubt not are some pieces of my ancestors that will fit their descendant.

[_Exeunt._

_Enter Captain, Sergeant, and REBOLLEDO._

_Capt._ I tell you my love is not a fancy; but a passion, a tempest, a volcano.

_Serg._ What a pity it is you ever set eyes on the girl!

_Capt._ What answer did the servant give you?

_Serg._ Nay, sir, I have told you.

_Capt._ That a country wench should stand upon her virtue as if she were a lady!

_Serg._ This sort of girls, captain, don’t understand gentlemen’s ways. If a strapping lout in their own line of life courted them in their own way, they’d hear and answer quick enough. Besides, you really expect too much, that a decent woman should listen after one day’s courtship to a lover who is perhaps to leave her to-morrow.

_Capt._ And to-day’s sun setting!

_Serg._ Your own love too, but from one glance—

_Capt._ Is not one spark enough for gunpowder?

_Serg._ You too, who would have it no country girl could be worth a day’s courtship!

_Capt._ Alas, ’twas that was my ruin—running unawares upon a rock. I thought only to see a splay-footed gawky, and found a goddess. Ah, Rebolledo, could you but get me one more sight of her!

_Reb._ Well, captain, you have done me one good turn, and though you had like to run me into danger, I don’t mind venturing again for you.

_Capt._ But how? how?

_Reb._ Well, now, look here. We’ve a man in the regiment with a fair voice, and my little Chispa—no one like her for a flash song. Let’s serenade at the girl’s window; she must, in courtesy or curiosity, look out; and then—

_Capt._ But Don Lope is there, and we mustn’t wake him.

_Reb._ Don Lope? When does he ever get asleep with that leg of his, poor fellow? Besides, you can mix along with us in disguise, so as at least _you_ won’t come into question.

_Capt._ Well, there is but this chance, if it be but a faint one; for if we should march to-morrow!—come, let us set about it; it being, as you say, between ourselves that I have any thing to do with it.

[_Exeunt Captain and Sergeant._

_Enter CHISPA._

_Chis._ He’s got it, at any rate.

_Reb._ What’s the matter now, Chispa?

_Chis._ Oh, I mark’d his face for him.

_Reb._ What, a row?

_Chis._ A fellow there who began to ask questions as to my fair play at roulette—when I was all as fair as day too—I answered him with this. (_Showing a knife._) Well, he’s gone to the barber’s to get it dressed.

_Reb._ You still stand kicking when I want to get to the fair. I wanted you with your castanets, not your knife.

_Chis._ Pooh! one’s as handy as the other. What’s up now?

_Reb._ Come with me to quarters; I’ll tell you as we go along.

[_Exeunt._