Don Timoteo, Javier and Paca are discovered; the last named walks about the back and on the terrace as if to arrange something: she is dressed in a black or very dark costume: mantle[2] of black crape and with fringes.
Tim. And so Dolores wrote to you?
Jav. Yes, señor. Lazarus wished to see me: my company was very much wanted to hasten on his convalescence: he was talking constantly about me. Finally, I said: “I must go there,” I took the train, and two hours ago I planted myself at the door of this country seat, of this delightful country seat; which ought to have admirable views, as far as I have been able to judge by the feeble light of the stars.
Tim. But didn’t you know it? Weren’t you acquainted with Don Juan’s country seat?
Jav. No, señor.
Tim. (waggishly). I was. I have known it for many years. I knew it—ay, when Juan and I were young men! When I used to call him Juanito, and he called me Timoteito. Ah, ah! (mysteriously.) What a number of reminiscences these venerable precincts awaken! All that you see is impregnated with love and madness, with alcohol and merriment. I could tell you: on this divan Juan one day fell down drunk: in that corner I fell one night in the same condition: and on that balcony we both fell one morning in a similar situation. Oh, most sacred memories! Oh, beloved images of the past! (To Paca). What are you doing here?
Paca. I am putting everything in order, señor.
Tim. And now you will see such a panorama. That balcony looks toward the East, and you see the Guadalquivir—“Sevilla, Guadalquivir, how you do torment my mind!” The loveliest girls of the Sevillian land have breakfasted here, have danced here, have sung here, and have got drunk here.
Jav. Ah, ha! you amused yourselves here in fine style.