Don Lucas. You shall know. You, Don Pedro, are a pauper, and but for me would have starved.
Don Pedro. It is true.
Don Lucas. Doña Isabel is a beggar. I was going to marry her for her looks only, for she hasn’t a farthing for a dowry.
Don Pedro. But she is virtuous and beautiful.
Don Lucas. Well, then, give her your hand, for this is my vengeance. You are very poor, and she is very poor; no more happiness for you. Love flies out of the window when poverty enters the door. On your wedding-day you may laugh at me, but on the morrow when breakfasting on kisses, with vows on the table for victuals, and constancy for supper, Love instead of a silk frock, and “Darling” to keep you warm, you will see who laughs longest and last.
Don Pedro. Cousin....
Don Lucas. I say, you shall marry her.
Periwig. (aside). The punishment is too severe!
Don Lucas. (joins Don Pedro’s and Doña Isabel’s hands).
Join hands, you fond and pretty fools,