“Well, I'm going, then, since you are so anxious about it. The saints protect me, if I don't deserve to be shot for this chicken-hearted weakness of character!”
Juan took the road to the court, and solicited a new audience with the emperor. Though he took it for certain that his majesty would send him to Old Nick if he did not throw him to him over the balcony, he found that his majesty was very ready to grant him an audience.
“Sire, your majesty will pardon so many impertinences—” he stammered out, full of shame, when he drew near the emperor.
“Why, man, don't be ashamed and a fool,” interrupted his majesty kindly. “Well, how goes it in the Azure Palace?”
“Beautifully, sire.”
“And how is that little rib of yours, eh?”
“Who—she? Oh! very well, under present circumstances.”
“And content with her lot? Is it not so?”
“Well, as for that, sire! Well, your majesty knows what the women are. Their mouths are like a certain place I wouldn't mention before your majesty, always open, and there's no getting at the bottom of it.”
“Well, and what does the good Doña Ramona ask now?”