“My daughter, excellency, married Pepe of the posada in the Calle....”
The judge said, “Yes, yes,” with an unsanguine impatience. The Lugareño’s dirty hands jumped nervously on the large rim of his limp hat.
“You lodge a complaint against the señor there.”
The clerk pointed the end of his quill towards me.
“I? God forbid, excellency,” the Lugareño bleated. “The Alguazil of the Criminal Court instructed me to be watchful....”
Part Five: The End.
A long time after a harsh voice said:
“Your excellency, we retire, of course, from the prosecution.”
A different one directed: