Here is the "retort courteous" in its most charming humor. The gallant grace and wit of these dialogues are evidence of the original art with which Alarcon could make his comedy a study of life, and compel his auditors to think somewhat after they ceased to laugh. This is the function of eminent high comedy, though we may not ask that it shall elaborate a severe or intrusive moral, and though we admit its possession, as in Shakespeare, of the liveliest poetic qualities. Another passage, this time from the famous Verdad Sospechosa, wherein Don Beltran reprimands his son, Don Garcia, for the vice of habitual lying, will further elucidate the method of Alarcon:
Beltran. Are you a gentleman, Garcia?
Garcia.—I believe
I am your son.
Beltran.—And is it, then, enough,
To be my son to be a gentleman?
Garcia. I think so, sir.
Beltran.—What a mistaken thought!
Consists in acting like a gentleman
To be one. What gave birth to noble houses!
The illustrious deeds of their first authors, sir.
Without consideration of their births, the deeds
Of humble men honored their heirs. 'Tis doing
Good or ill makes gentleman or villain.
Garcia. That deeds give nobleness I'll not deny,
But who will say birth does not also give it?
Beltran. Well, then, if honor can be gained by him
Who was born without it, is't not certain that,
Vice versa, he can lose it who was born
With it?
Garcia.—'Tis true.
Beltran.—Then if you basely act,
Although my son, no longer you will be
A gentleman. So if your habits shame
You here in town, an ancient crest will not
Signify, nor noble ancestors serve.
What is't report says to me? That your lies
Are all the talk of Salamanca. Now,
If't affronts noble or plebeian but
To tell him that he lies, what is't to lie
Itself? If honorless I live the while
On him who gave the lie I take not full
Revenge—is your sword long enough or breast
So stout that you esteem yourself all able
To have revenge when all the city says
You lie? Is't possible a man can have
Such abject thoughts that unto vice he can
Live subject without pleasure, without gain?
A morbid pleasure have the sensual,
The power of money draws the covetous;
The taste of viands have the gluttonous;
A purpose and a pastime hath the gambler;
The homicide his hate, the thief his aim;
Fame with ambition cheers the warrior;
In short, doth every vice some pleasure give
Or profit—but for lying, what remains
But infamy and contempt?