Enter Juan, Isabel, and Ines.
Isab. (to Crespo). Your pleasure, sir?
Cres. It is Don Lope’s, who honours you by bidding you to sup with him.
Lope (aside). What a fair creature!—Nay, ’tis I that honour myself by the invitation.
Isab. Let me wait upon you.
Lope. Indeed no, unless waiting upon me mean supping with me.
Cres. Sit down, sit down, girl, as Don Lope desires you.
[They sit at table. Guitar heard within.
Lope. Music too!