To Saragossa, to this very house—
Telling you this, I tell you all—tell who
My lady is—his daughter—Violante,
Before whose shrine my life and soul together
Are but poor offerings to consecrate.
Vic. (aside). A pretty market we have brought our pigs to!
Who’ll bet upon the winner?
Lope. (aside). Oh confusion!
But let us drain the cup at once.—Don Guillen,
Your admiration and devotedness