Men. That, whether that riot in the house were by accident or design, the captain has ended by being really in love with Isabel.
Nuñ. So as he has as little of comfort in his quarters as we of eatable in ours—ever under her window, sending her messages and tokens by a nasty little soldier of his.
Men. Enough, enough of your poisoned news.
Nuñ. Especially on an empty stomach.
Men. Be serious, Nuño. And how does Isabel answer him?
Nuñ. As she does you. Bless you, she’s meat for your masters.
Men. Rascal! This to me! (Strikes him.)
Nuñ. There! two of my teeth you’ve knockt out, I believe: to be sure they weren’t of much use in your service.
Men. By Heaven, I’ll do so to that captain, if—