Act I, Scene 3

[ISABEL’S Garret. ISABEL and INES.]

ISAB.
What noise is that on the stairs?

[Enter REBOLLEDO.]

REB.
Sanctuary! Sanctuary!

ISAB.
Who are you, sir?

[Enter Captain.]

CAPT.
Where is the rascal?

ISAB.
A moment, sir! This poor man has flown to our feet for protection; I appeal to you for it; and no man, and least of all an officer, will refuse that to any woman.

CAPT.
I swear no other arm than that of beauty, and beauty such as yours, could have withheld me. (To REBOLLEDO.) You may thank the deity that has saved you, rascal.

ISAB.
And I thank you, sir.

CAPT.
And yet ungratefully slay me with your eyes in return for sparing him with my sword.

ISAB.
Oh, sir, do not mar the grace of a good deed by poor compliment, and so make me less mindful of the real thanks I owe you.

CAPT.
Wit and modesty kiss each other, as well they may, in that lovely face. (Kneels.)

ISAB.
Heavens! my father!

[Enter CRESPO and JUAN with swords.]

CRES.
How is this, sir? I am alarmed by cries of murder in my house—am told you have pursued a poor man up to my daughter’s room; and, when I get here expecting to find you killing a man, I find you courting a woman.

CAPT.
We are all born subjects to some dominion—soldiers especially to beauty. My sword, though justly raised against this man, as justly fell at this lady’s bidding.

CRES.
No lady, sir, if you please; but a plain peasant girl—my daughter.

JUAN.
(aside) All a trick to get at her. My blood boils. (Aloud to Captain.) I think, sir, you might have seen enough of my father’s desire to serve you to prevent your requiting him by such an affront as this.

CRES.
And, pray, who bid thee meddle, boy? Affront! what affront? The soldier affronted his captain; and if the captain has spared him for thy sister’s sake, pray what hast thou to say against it?

CAPT.
I think, young man, you had best consider before you impute ill intention to an officer.

JUAN.
I know what I know.

CRES.
What! you will go on, will you?

CAPT.
It is out of regard for you I do not chastise him.

CRES.
Wait a bit; if that were wanting, ’twould be from his father, not from you.

JUAN.
And, what’s more, I wouldn’t endure it from any one but my father.

CAPT.
You would not?

JUAN.
No! death rather than such dishonour!

CAPT.
What, pray, is a clodpole’s 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.]

LOPE.
How now? A riot the very first thing I find on joining the regiment? What is it all about?

CAPT.
(aside) Awkward enough!

CRES.
(aside) By the lord, the boy would have held his own with the best of ’em.

LOPE.
Well! No one answer me? ’Fore God, I’ll pitch the whole house, men, women, and children, out of windows, if you don’t tell me at once. Here have I had to trail up your accursed stairs, and then no one will tell me what for.

CRES.
Nothing, nothing at all, sir.

LOPE.
Nothing? that would be the worst excuse of all: but swords aren’t drawn for nothing; come, the truth?

CAPT.
Well, the simple fact is this, Don Lope; I am quartered upon this house; and one of my soldiers—

LOPE.
Well, sir, go on.

CAPT.
Insulted me so grossly I was obliged to draw my sword on him. He ran up here where it seems these two girls live; and I, not knowing there was any harm, after him; at which these men, their father or brother, or some such thing, take affront. This is the whole business.

LOPE.
I am just come in time then to settle it. First, who is the soldier that began it with an act of insubordination?

REB.
What, am I to pay the piper?

ISAB.
(pointing to REB.) This, sir, was the man who ran up first.

LOPE.
This? handcuff him!

REB.
Me! my lord?

CAPT.
(aside to REB.) Don’t blab, I’ll bear you harmless.

REB.
Oh, I dare say, after being marcht off with my hands behind me like a coward. Noble commander, ’twas the captain’s own doing; he made me pretend a quarrel, that he might get up here to see the women.

CRES.
I had some cause for quarrel, you see.

LOPE.
Not enough to peril the peace of the town for. Halloa there! beat all to quarters on pain of death. And, to prevent further ill blood here, do you (to the Captain) quarter yourself elsewhere till we march. I’ll stop here.

CAPT.
I shall of course obey you, sir.

CRES.
(to ISABEL) Get you in. (Exeunt ISAB. and INES.) I really ought to thank you heartily for coming just as you did, sir; else, I’d done for myself.

LOPE.
How so?

CRES.
I should have killed this popinjay.

LOPE.
What, sir, a captain in his Majesty’s service?

CRES.
Ay, a general, if he insulted me.

LOPE.
I tell you, whoever lays his little finger on the humblest private in the regiment, I’ll hang him.

CRES.
And I tell you, whoever points his little finger at my honour, I’ll cut him down before hanging.

LOPE.
Know you not, you are bound by your allegiance to submit?

CRES.
To all cost of property, yes; but of honour, no, no, no! My goods and chattels, ay, and my life—are the king’s; but my honour is my own soul’s, and that is—God Almighty’s!

LOPE.
’Fore God, there’s some truth in what you say.

CRES.
’Fore God, there ought to be, for I’ve been some years saying it.

LOPE.
Well, well. I’ve come a long way, and this leg of mine (which I wish the devil who gave it would carry away with him!) cries for rest.

CRES.
And who prevents its taking some? the same devil I suppose, who gave you your leg, gave me a bed (which I don’t want him to take away again, however) on which your leg may lie if it like.

LOPE.
But did the devil, when he was about it, make your bed as well as give it?

CRES.
To be sure he did.

LOPE.
Then I’ll unmake it—Heaven knows I’m weary enough.

CRES.
Heaven rest you then.

LOPE.
(aside) Devil or saint alike he echoes me.

CRES.
(aside) I and Don Lope never shall agree.