While José sits with bowed head, a girl's figure rises behind the rocks, and almost at the same moment there appears the form of a man, as well. José hears the rolling of the stones beneath their feet and starts up, musket in hand. Just as he rises, he sees the man's head. The girl cries out as he fires upon the man, and misses him; then she crouches down behind the rock. It is Michaela, come to find José wherever he may be. She knows of his disgrace; it is killing his mother. The lonely old woman is dying. Michaela has come to fetch him, if he has not lost all memory of gentler hours. As José fires, the man shouts.
"Hey, there! what are you about?"
"What are you about? What do you want up here?"
"If you were not so ready with your gun, my friend, you are more likely to find out. I'm Escamillo the Toreador."
"Oh, well, then come up. I know you and you are welcome enough, but you run a fearful risk, let me tell you. You haven't sought very good company, I suppose you know."
"I don't care particularly; because, my friend, I am in love, if you want to know."
"Do you expect to find her here?"
"I am looking for her," Escamillo returns, complaisantly.
"These women are all gipsies."
"Good enough: so is Carmen."