This couplet having been followed by another of little value, Maria approached Stein and said to him:
“Don Frederico, the wine commences to tell on our guests. It is midnight, and the poor children are alone in the house with Momo and brother Gabriel. I fear Manuel raises his elbow too often. Pedro is asleep in the corner, and I think it will not be bad to sound the retreat. Our asses are harnessed, will you that we take ‘French leave?’ ” An instant after, the three women, mounted on their asses, were on their way to the convent. The men accompanied them on foot, while Ramon, in a fit of jealousy and of chagrin, on seeing the married couple depart, struck his guitar with an insolent air and bellowed rather than sang:
“Thou the calabash hast given me;
Or rather, I my congé see;
Great good this congé does meeting,
The tomatoes I have eaten!
In thy family, at which I dine,
Admitted once, revenged I am.”
“What a beautiful night!” said Stein to his wife, raising his eyes towards heaven. “See the starry firmament! See the evening star shining in its magnificence like the brightness of my happiness! My heart has now no want unsupplied, and I have nothing to regret.”
“And I who amused myself so much,” replied Marisalada, impatiently, “I do not see why we have left the fête so soon.”
“Good Maria,” said Pedro Santalo, “now we can die in peace.”
“Yes,” replied the old woman, “but we can as well live in joy; that would be much better.”
“How is it that you do not know how to restrain yourself when you have the glass in your hand?” said Dolores to her husband. “From the moment you slacken sail, there is not a cable that could bring you up.”
“Caramba!” replied Manuel: “I am here, what would you more? Still, one word more—I live on the brim and I return to the fête.”
The cries of the drinkers being continually heard, Dolores held her tongue, fearing that Manuel would put his threats into execution.