"But don't you know, you fool, that if the noble Doña Teresa, the sister of the Count of Carrion, happened to discover that you were in love with her, she would laugh at you, if indeed she did not get you driven with blows from the castle. Don't you know that if Don Suero learned it, he would get you flayed alive?"
"I know nothing, my friends,—I know nothing but that I love her with all my heart and soul."
"But what right has a poor page to love so great a lady?"
"It is easy to know, my friends that you are as low-minded and ignorant as the bulk of pages. Tell me, however, is not a lady a woman, no matter how rich and noble she may happen to be?"
"Certainly."
"And is not a page a man, no matter how poor and obscure he may be?"
"Certainly, likewise."
"Then, is it extraordinary that a man should love a woman, and a woman a man?"
"No."
"Then, you simpletons, don't be astonished that I, a poor and obscure page, love my lady Doña Teresa, and that she, rich and noble as she is, may love me some day or other."