SCENE V.—_CRESPO’S Garden Porch.

_DON LOPE, CRESPO, JUAN._

_Lope._ I have much to thank you for, Crespo, but for nothing so much as for giving me your son for a soldier. I do thank you for that with all my heart.

_Cres._ I am proud he should be your servant.

_Lope._ The king’s! the king’s—_my_ friend. I took a fancy to him from the first for his spirit and affection to the service.

_Juan._ And I will follow you to the world’s end, ] sir.

_Cres._ Though you must make allowance for his awkwardness at first, sir, remembering he has only had ploughmen for teachers, and plough and pitchforks for books.

_Lope._ He needs no apology. And now the sun’s heat abates towards his setting, I will be off.

_Juan._ I will see for the litter.

[_Exit._

_Enter ISABEL and INES._

_Isab._ You must not go, sir, without our adieu.

_Lope._ I would not have done so; nor without asking pardon for much that is past, and even for what I am now about to do. But remember, fair Isabel, ’tis not the price of the gift, but the good will of the giver makes its value. This brooch, though of diamond, becomes poor in your hands, and yet I would fain have you wear it in memory of Don Lope.

_Isab._ I take it ill you should wish to repay us for an entertainment—

_Lope._ No, no, no repayment; that were impossible if I wished it. A free keepsake of regard.

_Isab._ As such I receive it then, sir. Ah, may I make bold to commit my brother to your kindness?

_Lope._ Indeed, indeed, you may rely on me.

_Enter JUAN._

_Juan._ The litter is ready.

_Lope._ Adieu, then, all.

_All._ Adieu, adieu, sir.

_Lope._ Ha, Peter! who, judging from our first meeting, could have prophesied we should part such good friends?

_Cres._ I could, sir, had I but known—

_Lope_ (_going_). Well?

_Cres._ That you were at once as good as crazy. (_Exit LOPE._) And now, Juan, before going, let me give thee a word of advice in presence of thy sister and cousin; thou and thy horse will easily overtake Don Lope, advice and all. By God’s grace, boy, thou comest of honourable if of humble stock; bear both in mind, so as neither to be daunted from trying to rise, nor puffed up so as to be sure to fall. How many have done away the memory of a defect by carrying themselves modestly; while others again have gotten a blemish only by being too proud of being born without one. There is a just humility that will maintain thine own dignity, and yet make thee insensible to many a rub that galls the proud spirit. Be courteous in thy manner, and liberal of thy purse; for ’tis the hand to the bonnet and in the pocket that makes friends in this world; of which to gain one good, all the gold the sun breeds in India, or the universal sea sucks down, were a cheap purchase. Speak no evil of women; I tell thee the meanest of them deserves our respect; for of women do we not all come? Quarrel with no one but with good cause; by the Lord, over and over again, when I see masters and schools of arms among us, I say to myself, ‘This is not the thing we want at all, _How to fight_, but _Why to fight_? that is the lesson we want to learn.’ And I verily believe if but one master of the _Why to fight_ advertised among us he would carry off all the scholars. Well—enough—You have not (as you once said to me) my advice this time on an empty stomach—a fair outfit of clothes and money—a good horse—and a good sword—these, together with Don Lope’s countenance, and my blessing—I trust in God to live to see thee home again with honour and advancement on thy back. My son, God bless thee! There—And now go—for I am beginning to play the woman.

_Juan._ Your words will live in my heart, sir, so long as it lives. (_He kisses his father’s hand._) Sister! (_He embraces her._)

_Isab._ Would I could hold you back in my arms!

_Juan._ Adieu, cousin!

_Ines._ I can’t speak.

_Cres._ Be off, else I shall never let thee go—and my word is given!

_Juan._ God bless you all!

[_Exit._

_Isab._ Oh, you never should have let him go, sir.

_Cres._ (_aside_). I shall do better now. (_Aloud._) Pooh, why, what the deuce could I have done with him at home here all his life—a lout—a scape-grace perhaps. Let him go serve his king.

_Isab._ Leaving us by night too!

_Cres._ Better than by day, child, at this season—Pooh!——(_Aside._) I must hold up before them.

_Isab._ Come, sir, let us in.

_Ines._ No, no, cousin, e’en let us have a little fresh air now the soldiers are gone.

_Cres._ True—and here I may watch my Juan along the white, white road. Let us sit. (_They sit._)

_Isab._ Is not this the day, sir, when the Town Council elects its officers?

_Cres._ Ay, indeed, in August—so it is. And indeed this very day.

(_As they talk together, the Captain, Sergeant, REBOLLEDO, and CHISPA steal in._)

_Capt._ (_whispering_). ’Tis she! you know our plan; I seize her, and you look to the others.

_Isab._ What noise is that?

_Ines._ Who are these?

(_The Captain seizes and carries off ISABEL—the Sergeant and REBOLLEDO seize CRESPO._)

_Isab._ (_within_). My father! My father!

_Cres._ Villains! A sword! A sword!

_Reb._ Kill him at once.

_Serg._ No, no.

_Reb._ We must carry him off with us then, or his cries will rouse the town.

[_Exeunt, carrying CRESPO._