Men. Ah! ‘pon the honour of an Hidalgo (which is a sacred oath), I could have sworn that till this moment the sun had not risen. But why should I wonder? When indeed a second Aurora——
Isab. Signor Don Mendo, how often have I told you not to waste your time playing these foo antics before my window day after day.
Men. If a pretty woman only knew, la! how anger improves its beauty! her complexion needs no other paint than indignation. Go on, go on, lovely one, grow angrier and lovelier still.
Isab. You shan’t have even that consolation; come, Ines.
[Exit.
Ines. Beware of the portcullis, sir knight.
(Shuts down the blind in his face.)
Men. Ines, beauty must be ever victorious, whether advancing or retreating.
Enter Crespo.
Cres. That I can never go in or out of my house without that squireen haunting it!