Marion who got upon a dolphin, and came out of the sea like a man riding on a hired mule—­nor even that other great musician who built a city with a hundred gates and as many posterns—­never a one of them invented an instrument half so easy of acquirement, so ready to the touch, so pleasing and simple as to its frets, keys, and chords, and so far from troublesome in the tuning and keeping in accord; and by all the saints, they swear that it was invented by a gallant of this very city, a perfect Hector in matters of music.”

“I fully believe all you say,” replied Rinconete, “but let us listen, for our musicians are about to sing.  Gananciosa is blowing her nose, which is a certain sign that she means to sing.”

And she was, in fact, preparing to do so.  Monipodio had requested her to give the company some of the Seguidillas most in vogue at the moment.  But the first to begin was Escalanta, who sang as follows, in a thin squeaking voice:—­

    “For a boy of Sevilla,
      Red as a Dutchman,
    All my heart’s in flame.”

To which Gananciosa replied, taking up the measure as she best might—­

    “For the little brown lad,
      With a good bright eye,
    Who would not lose her name?”

Then Monipodio, making great haste to perform a symphony with his pieces of platter, struck in—­

    “Two lovers dear, fall out and fight,
      But soon, to make their peace, take leisure;
    And all the greater was the row,
      So much the greater is the pleasure.”

But Cariharta had no mind to enjoy her recovered happiness in silence and fingering another clog, she also entered the dance, joining her voice to those of her friends, in the following words—­

    “Pause, angry lad! and do not beat me more,
      For ’tis thine own dear flesh that thou dost baste,
    If thou but well consider, and—­”

“Fair and soft,” exclaimed Repolido, at that moment, “give us no old stories, there’s no good in that.  Let bygones be bygones!  Choose another gait, girl; we’ve had enough of that one.”

The canticle, for a moment interrupted by these words, was about to recommence, and would not, apparently, have soon come to an end, had not the performers been disturbed by violent knocks at the door.  Monipodio hastened to see who was there, and found one of his sentinels, who informed him that at the end of the street was the alcalde of criminal justice, with the little Piebald and the Kestrel (two catchpolls, who were called neutral, since they did the community of robbers neither good nor harm), marching before him.