_Men._ Ho the grey horse?
_Nuñ._ You may as well call him the _Dun_; so screw’d he ca move a leg.
_Men._ Did you have him wal gently about?
_Nuñ._ Wal about! when it’s corn he wants, poor devil!
_Men._ And the dogs?
_Nuñ._ Ah, now, they might do if yo give them the horse to eat.
_Men._ Enough, enough—it has struck three. My gloves and tooth-pick.
_Nuñ._ That sinecure tooth-pick?
_Men._ I tell you I would brain anybody who insinuated to me I had not
dined—and on game too. But tell me, Nuño, hav the soldiers come into
Zalamea this afternoon?
_Nuñ._ Yes, sir.
_Men._ What a nuisance for the commonalty who have to quarter them.
_Nuñ._ But worse for those who hav.
_Men._ What do you mean, sir?
_Nuñ._ I mean the squires. Ah, sir; if the soldiers are billeted on
them, do you know why?
_Men._ Well, why?
_Nuñ._ For fear of being starved—which would be a bad job for the kin
service.
_Men._ God rest my father’s soul, says I, who left me a pedigree and
patent all blazon’d in gold and azure, that exempts me from such
impositions.
_Nuñ._ I wish he’d left you the gold in a more available shape, however.
_Men._ Though, indeed, when I come to think of it, I do know if I owe
him any thanks; considering that, unless he had consented to beget me
an Hidalgo at once, I would have been born at all, for him or any one.
_Nuñ._ Humph! Could you have hel it?
_Men._ Easily.
_Nuñ._ How, sir.
_Men._ You must know that every one that is born is the essence of the
food his parents eat——
_Nuñ._ Oh! Your parents did eat, then, sir? You have not inherited
_that_ of them, at all events.
_Men._ Knave, do you insinuate——
_Nuñ._ I only know it is now three lock, and we have neither of us yet
had anything but our own spittle to chew.
_Men._ Perhaps so, but there are distinctions of rank. An Hidalgo, sir,
has no belly.
_Nuñ._ Oh, Lord! that I were an Hidalgo!
_Men._ Possibly; servants must learn moderation in all things. But let
me hear no more of the matter; we are under Isabel’s window.
_Nuñ._ There again——If you are so devoted an admirer, why on earth,
sir, do you ask her in marriage of her father; by doing which you would
kill two birds with one stone: get yourself something to eat, and his
grandchildren squires.
_Men._ Hold your tongue, sir, it is impious. Am I, an Hidalgo with such
a pedigree, to demean myself with a plebeian connection just for money’s
sake?
_Nuñ._ Well, I’ve always heard say a mean father-in-law is best; better
stumble on a pebble than run your head again a post. But, however, if
you do mean marriage, sir, what do you mean?
_Men._ And pray, sir, what business is that of yours? But go directly,
and tell me if you can get a sight of her?
_Nuñ._ afraid lest her father should get a sight of me.
_Men._ And what if he do, being my man? Go and do as I bid you.
_Nuñ._ (_after going to look_). Come, sir, you owe one meal at least
now—sh at the window with her cousin.
_Men._ Go again and tell her something about her window being another
East, and she a second Sun dawning from it in the afternoon.
(ISABEL _and_ INES _come to the window_.)
_Ines._ For heave sake, cousin, le stand here and see the soldiers
march in.
_Isab._ Not I, while that man is in the way, Ines; you know how I hate
the sight of him.
_Ines._ With all his devotion to you!
_Isab._ I wish he would spare himself and me the trouble.
_Ines._ I think you are wrong to take it as an affront.
_Isab._ How would you have me take it?
_Ines._ Why, as a compliment.
_Isab._ What, when I hate the man?
_Men._ Ah! ‘pon the honour of an Hidalgo (which is a sacred oath), I
could have sworn that till this moment the sun had not risen. But why
should I wonder? When indeed a second Aurora——
_Isab._ Signor Don Mendo, how often have I told you not to waste your
time playing these foo antics before my window day after day.
_Men._ If a pretty woman only knew, la! how anger improves its beauty!
her complexion needs no other paint than indignation. Go on, go on,
lovely one, grow angrier and lovelier still.
_Isab._ You shan’t have even that consolation; come, Ines.
[_Exit._
_Ines._ Beware of the portcullis, sir knight.
(_Shuts down the blind in his face._)
_Men._ Ines, beauty must be ever victorious, whether advancing or
retreating.
_Enter_ CRESPO.
_Cres._ That I can never go in or out of my house without that squireen
haunting it!
_Nuñ._ Pedro Crespo, sir!
_Men._ Oh—ah—let us turn another way; ’tis an ill-conditioned fellow.
_As he turns, enter_ JUAN.
JUAN. That I never can come home but this ghost of an Hidalgo is there
to spoil my appetite.
_Nuñ._ His son, sir!
_Men._ He’s worse. (_Turning back._) Oh, Pedro Crespo, good-day, Crespo,
good man, good-day.
[_Exit with_ NUÑO.
_Cres._ Good-day, indeed; I’ll make it bad day one of these days with
you, if you do take care. But how now, Juanito, my boy?
_Juan._ I was looking for you, sir, but could not find you; where have
you been?
_Cres._ To the barn, where high and dry
The jolly sheaves of corn do lie,
Which the sun, arch-chemist of old,
Turn’d from black earth into gold,
And the swinging flail one day
On the barn-floor shall assay,
Separating the pure ore
From the drossy chaff away.
This I’ve been about. And now,
Juanito, what hast thou?
_Juan._ Alas, sir, I ca answer in so good rhyme or reason. I have been
playing at fives, and lost every bout.
_Cres._ What signifies if you paid?
_Juan._ But I could not, and have come to you for the money.
_Cres._ Before I give it you, listen to me.
There are things two
Thou never must do;
Swear to more than thou knowest,
Play for more than thou owest;
And never mind cost,
So credit’s not lost.
_Juan._ Good advice, sir, no doubt, that I shall lay by for its own
sake as well as for yours. Meanwhile I have also heard say—
“Preach not to a beggar till
The beggar’s empty hide you fill.”
_Cres._ ‘Fore Heaven, thou pat me in my own coin. But——
_Enter_ SERGEANT.
_Serg._ Pray, does one Pedro Crespo live hereabout?
_Cres._ Have you any commands for him, if he does?
_Serg._ Yes, to tell him of the arrival of Don Alvaro de Ataide,
captain of the troop that has just marched into Zalamea, and quartered
upon him.
_Cres._ Say no more; my house and all I have is ever at the service of
the king, and of all who have authority under him. If you will leave
his things here, I will see his room is got ready directly; and do you
tell his Honour that, come when he will, he shall find me and mine at
his service.
_Serg._ Good—he will be here directly.
[_Exit._
_Juan._ I wonder, father, that, rich as you are, you still submit
yourself to these nuisances.
_Cres._ Why, boy, how could I help them?
_Juan._ You know; by buying a patent of Gentility.
_Cres._ A patent of Gentility! upon thy life now dost think ther a
soul who does know that no gentleman at all, but just a plain farmer?
Wha the use of my buying a patent of Gentility, if I ca buy the gentle
blood along with it? will any one think me a bit more of a gentleman
for buying fifty patents? Not a whit; I should only prove I was worth
so many thousand royals, not that I had gentle blood in my veins, which
ca be bought at any price. If a fello been bald ever so long, and buys
him a fine wig and claps it on, will his neighbours think it is his own
hair a bit the more? No, they will say, “So-and-so has a fine wig; and,
wha more, he must have paid handsomely for it too.” But they know his
bald pate is safe under it all the while. Tha all he gets by it.
_Juan._ Nay, sir, he gets to look younger and handsomer, and keeps off
sun and cold.
_Cres._ Tut! I’ll have none of your wig honour at any price. My
grandfather was a farmer, so was my father, so is yours, and so shall
you be after him. Go, call your sister.
_Enter_ ISABEL _and_ INES.
Oh, here she is. Daughter, our gracious king (whose life God save
these thousand years!) is on his way to be crowned at Lisbon; thither
the troops are marching from all quarters, and among others that
fine veteran Flanders regiment, commanded by the famous Don Lope de
Figuerroa, will march into Zalamea, and be quartered here to-day; some
of the soldiers in my house. Is it not as well you should be out of the
way?
_Isab._ Sir, ’twas upon this very errand I came to you, knowing what
nonsense I shall have to hear if I stay below. My cousin and I can go
up to the garret, and there keep so close, the very sun shall not know
of our whereabout.
_Cres._ That’s my good girl. Juanito, you wait here to receive them in
case they come while I am out looking after their entertainment.
_Isab._ Come, Ines.
_Ines._ Very well——
“Though I’ve heard in a song what folly ’twould be
To try keep in a loft what wo keep on the tree.”
[_Exeunt._
_Enter_ CAPTAIN _and_ SERGEANT.
_Serg._ This is the house, sir.
_Capt._ Is my kit come?
_Serg._ Yes, sir, and (_aside_) I’ll be the first to take an inventory
of the pretty daughter.
[_Exit._
_Juan._ Welcome, sir, to our house; we count it a great honour to have
such a cavalier as yourself for a guest, I assure you. (_Aside._) What
a fine fellow! what an air! I long to try the uniform, somehow.
_Capt._ Thank you, my lad.
_Juan._ You must forgive our poor house, which we devoutly wish was a
palace for your sake. My father is gone after your supper, sir; may I
go and see that your chamber is got ready for you?
_Capt._ Thank you, thank you.
_Juan._ Your servant, sir.
[_Exit._
_Enter_ SERGEANT.
_Capt._ Well, sergeant, wher the Dulcinea you told me of?
_Serg._ Deuce take me, sir, if I hav been looking everywhere—in
parlour, bedroom, kitchen, and scullery, upstairs and downstairs, and
ca find her out.
_Capt._ Oh, no doubt the old fellow has hid her away for fear of us.
_Serg._ Yes, I as a serving wench, and she confess’d her master had loc
the girl up in the attic, with strict orders not even to look out so
long as we were in the place.
_Capt._ Ah! these clodpoles are all so jealous of the service. And what
is the upshot? Why, I, who did care a pin to see her before, shall
never rest till I get at her now.
_Serg._ But how, without a blow-up?
_Capt._ Let me see; how shall we manage it?
_Serg._ The more difficult the enterprise, the more glory in success,
you know, in love as in war.
_Capt._ I have it!
_Serg._ Well, sir?
_Capt._ You shall pretend—but no, here comes one will serve my turn
better.
_Enter_ REBOLLEDO _and_ CHISPA.
_Reb._ (_to_ CHISPA). There he is; now if I can get him into a good
humour.
_Chis._ Speak up then, like a man.
_Reb._ I wish some of your courage; but do you leave me while I tackle
him. Please, your Honour——
_Capt._ (_to_ SERGEANT). I tell you I’ve my eye on Rebolledo to do him a
good turn; I like his spirit.
_Serg._ Ah, he’ one of a thousand.
_Reb._ (_aside_). Her luck! Please, your Honour——
_Capt._ Oh, Rebolledo—Well, Rebolledo, what is it?
_Reb._ You may know I am a gentleman who has, by ill-luck, lost all his
estate; all that ever I had, have, shall have, may have, or can have,
through all the conjugations of the verb “_to have_.” And I want your
Honour——
_Capt._ Well?
_Reb._ To desire the ensign to appoint me roulette-master to the
regiment, so I may pay my liabilities like a man of honour.
_Capt._ Quite right, quite right; I will see it done.
_Chis._ (_aside_). Oh, brave captain! Oh, if I only live to hear them
all call me Madame Roulette!
_Reb._ Shall I go at once and tell him?
_Capt._ Wait. I want you first to help me in a little plan I have.
_Reb._ Out with it, noble captain. Slow said slow sped, you know.
_Capt._ You are a good fellow; listen. I want to get into that attic
there, for a particular purpose.
_Reb._ And why does your Honour go up at once?
_Capt._ I do like to do it in a strange house without an excuse. Now
look here; you and I will pretend to quarrel; I get angry and draw my
sword, and you run away upstairs, and I after you, to the attic, tha
all; I’ll manage the rest.
_Chis._ (_aside_). Ah, he seems to be getting on famously.
_Reb._ I understand. When are we to begin?
_Capt._ Now directly.
_Reb._ Very good. (_In a loud voice._) This is the reward of my
services—a rascal, a pitiful, scoundrel, is preferred, when a man of
honour—a man who has seen service——
_Chis._ (_aside_). Halloa! Rebolledo up? All is not so well.
_Reb._ Who has led you to victory?
_Capt._ This language to me, sir?
_Reb._ Yes, to you, who have so grossly insulted and defrauded——
_Capt._ Silence! and think yourself lucky if I take no further notice
of your insolence.
_Reb._ If I restrain myself, it is only because you are my captain, and
as such—but ‘fore God, if my cane were in my hand——
_Chis._ (_advancing_.) Hold! hold!
_Capt._ I’ll show you, sir, how to talk to me in this way. (_Draws his
sword._)
_Reb._ It is before your commission, not you, I retreat.
_Capt._ That sha’n’t save you, rascal!
(_Pursues_ REBOLLEDO _out_.)
_Chis._ Oh! I sha’n’t be Madame Roulette after all. Murder! murder!
[_Exit calling._