Juan. And you arrived when I was getting up. I told you the great news; immediately you showed great delight; but then you fell into sublime preoccupations. Poor Carmen! (approaching him with an air of secrecy.) You don’t love her as she loves you.
Laz. With all my soul! More than you can imagine! I am as I am: reserved, untamed, unpolished—but I know how to love!
Juan. Better and better! The poor little thing—come, now—the poor little thing.
Laz. And why did not Don Timoteo answer on the spot that he accepted? When you asked him for his daughter for me, why did he hesitate?
Juan. What do you mean by hesitation? I do him the honour of requesting the hand of Carmen for my Lazarus—and he would hesitate! I should strangle the scarecrow. Marry a man like you! What more could any daughter or any father desire?
Laz. Then why did he put off the answer till to-day?
Juan. The prescriptions of etiquette: social conventionalities: he was always a great stickler for etiquette. Because he must consult with Carmen. Imagine him consulting with Carmen! When the poor little thing is like a soul in purgatory, and you are her heaven.—Ha! ha!
Laz. You are right.
Juan. No: you shall have your sweet little wife, your home; you shall work hard, you shall gain great glory, you shall keep a sound judgment—and let the whole world say: Don Lazarus Mejia, son of Don Juan Mejia! Oh!
Laz. Yes, señor: I shall do what I can—and I shall love my Carmen dearly.