One day when he was walking out in the Campagna he saw a great white skeleton coming to meet him. It was the skeleton of the commendatore whom he had killed.
‘How dy’e do?’ said Don Giovanni, with effrontery. ‘There’s an Accademia[1] to-night at my house, I shall be very happy to see you at it;’ and he took off his hat with mock gravity.
‘I will certainly come,’ replied the commendatore in a sepulchral voice; but Don Giovanni burst out laughing.
In the midst of the Accademia some one knocked. ‘All the guests are arrived,’ said the servant, ‘yet some one knocks.’
‘Never mind, open!’ replied Don Giovanni, carelessly. ‘Let him in whoever it is.’
The servant went to open, and came running back to say he could not let the new guest in because he was only the miller, who had come in his white coat all over flour.
All soon saw, however, that the guest was not the miller, though he looked so white. For it was the white skeleton of the commendatore; and it followed the servant into the room. Then fear seized on all and they ran away to hide themselves; some behind the door, some behind the curtains, and some under the table.
Don Giovanni stood alone in the middle of the room with his usual effrontery, and held out his hand to the skeleton.
‘Repent thee!’[2] said the White Skeleton, solemnly.
‘A cavalier like me doesn’t repent like common beggars!’ replied Don Giovanni, scornfully.