Here Lope gave a shout, and cried out in a declamatory tone, “O Platonic love!  O illustrious scullery-maid!  O thrice-blessed age of ours, wherein we see love renewing the marvels of the age of gold!  O my poor tunnies, you must pass this year without a visit from your impassioned admirer, but next year be sure I will make amends, and you shall no longer find me a truant.”

“I see, Asturiano,” said Tomas, “how openly you mock me.  Why don’t you go to your fisheries?  There is nothing to hinder you.  I will remain where I am, and you will find me here on your return.  If you wish to take your share of the money with you, take it at once; go your ways in peace, and let each of us follow the course prescribed to him by his own destiny.”

“I thought you had more sense,” said Lope.  “Don’t you know that I was only joking?  But now that I perceive you are in earnest, I will serve you in earnest in everything I can do to please you.  Only one thing I entreat in return for the many I intend to do for you:  do not expose me to Argueello’s persecution, for I would rather lose your friendship than have to endure hers.  Good God, friend! her tongue goes like the clapper of a mill; you can smell her breath a league off; all her front teeth are false, and it is my private opinion that she does not wear her own hair, but a wig.  To crown all, since she began to make overtures to me, she has taken to painting white, till her face looks like nothing but a mask of plaster.”

“True, indeed, my poor comrade; she is worse even than the Gallegan who makes me suffer martyrdom.  I’ll tell you what you shall do; only stay this night in the inn, and to-morrow you shall buy yourself an ass, find a lodging, and so secure yourself from the importunities of Argueello, whilst I remain exposed to those of the Gallegan, and to the fire of my Costanza’s eyes.”

This being agreed on, the two friends returned to the inn, where Asturiano was received with great demonstrations of love by Argueello.  That night a great number of muleteers stopping in the house, and those near it, got up a dance before the door of the Sevillano.  Asturiano played the guitar:  the female dancers were the two Gallegans and Argueello, and three girls from another inn.  Many persons stood by as spectators, with their faces muffled, prompted more by a desire to see Costanza than the dance; but they were disappointed, for she did not make her appearance.  Asturiano played for the dancers with such spirit and precision of touch that they all vowed he made the guitar speak; but just as he was doing his best, accompanying the instrument with his voice, and the dancers were capering like mad, one of the muffled spectators cried out, “Stop, you drunken sot! hold your noise, wineskin, piperly poet, miserable catgut scraper!” Several others followed up this insulting speech with such a torrent of abuse that Lope thought it best to cease playing and singing; but the muleteers took the interruption