Men. Hold your tongue, sir, it is impious. Am I, an Hidalgo with such a pedigree, to demean myself with a plebeian connexion just for money’s sake?
Nuñ. Well, I’ve always heard say a mean father-in-law is best; better stumble on a pebble than run your head against a post. But, however, if you don’t mean marriage, sir, what do you mean?
Men. And pray, sir, can’t I dispose of her in a convent in case I get tired of her? But go directly, and tell me if you can get a sight of her.
Nuñ. I’m afraid lest her father should get a sight of me.
Men. And what if he do, being my man? Go and do as I bid you.
Nuñ. (after going to look). Come, sir, you owe one meal at least now—she’s at the window with her cousin.
Men. Go again, and tell her something about her window being another East, and she a second Sun dawning from it in the afternoon.
(Isabel and Ines come to the window.)
Ines. For heaven’s sake, cousin, let’s stand here and see the soldiers march in.