Capt. You would not?
Juan. No! death rather than such dishonour!
Capt. What, pray, is a clodpol idea of honour.
Juan. The same as a captain’s—no clodpole no captain, I can tell you.
Capt. ‘Fore Heaven, I must punish this insolence.
(About to strike him.)
Cres. You must do it through me, then.
Reb. Eyes right!—Don Lope!
Capt. Don Lope!
Enter Don Lope.