Hyp. Yes, moved with hunger;
He is half famished with this long day’s journey.
P. Cura. Then, pray you, come this way. The supper waits. [Exeunt.
Scene IV.—A post-house on the road to Segovia, not far from the village of El Pardillo. Enter Chispa cracking a whip, and singing the Cachucha.
Chis. Halloo! the post-house! Let us have horses! and quickly. Alas, poor Chispa! what a dog’s life dost thou lead! I thought when I left my old master Victorian, the student, to serve my new master Don Carlos, the gentleman, that I too should lead the life of a gentleman; should go to bed early, and get up late. But in running away from the thunder I have run into the lightning. Here I am in hot chase after my old master and his gipsy girl. And a good beginning of the week it is, as he said who was hanged on Monday morning.
(Enter Don Carlos.)
Don C. Are not the horses ready yet?
Chis. I should think not, for the hostler seems to be asleep. Ho! within there! Horses! horses! horses!
(He knocks at the gate with his whip, and enter Mosquito, putting on his jacket.)