_San._ Kissing her! (_To Antonio_) Your most obedient! Then I understand why you fought her husband.
_San._ Yes, and killed him--a dirty rascal, whose name was----
_Ant._ (_putting his hand on Sancho's mouth_). Your honour, Sancho! recollect your oath!
_San._ I had forgotten. Saint Petronila, refresh my memory! But this requires some little explanation.
_Ant._ And you shall have it, but not now. All's right.
_Ant._ (_aside to Sancho_). Yes--this woman's jealous of her. As soon as she is gone I will explain the whole.
_Bep._ (_aside_). Now are there knavish tricks in practice. (_Aloud_) You know this Nina--this girl of his?
_Bep._ Then if you do, tell her she's a shameless wanton, thus to seduce a married man, and that Antonio's wife will spoil her beauty if she come across her. You understand me?
_San._ Why, yes; it is very plain, by Saint Petronila!
_Bep._ Husband, farewell. I trust you'll mend your ways. [_Exit Beppa._
_Ant._ Cursed jealous cockatrice! Why, Sancho, you are serious.
_San._ Why, yes, a little. I thought you were my friend, but if you are only doing a friendly act for Nina in getting her a husband----
_Ant._ My dear Sancho, I'll explain it all. Nina is virtuous. It was her husband that she kissed, and this alone has made that woman jealous.
_San._ Why should she be jealous of Nina's kissing her own husband?
_Ant._ Because that husband had my livery on; and Beppa swears 'twas I. When Lopez arrived here he wanted a situation, but his clothes were so shabby, he could not offer himself to any gentleman. I lent him a suit of mine, a very good one too, and yet the wretch had the ingratitude to quarrel with me, although dressed in my clothes. They are on his body now. When he met his wife he kissed her, and Beppa, who was passing by, thought it was I; and this is the whole mystery. You can ask Nina how her husband was dressed when she met him, and her answer will prove the truth of what I say. Only, you must not mention a word of me or of Beppa. I hope you're satisfied.
_Ant._ Well, now, Sancho, let me know how Nina received the news of her husband's death.
_San._ Women are strange creatures! Would you believe it? When I told his death--Saint Petronila, be merciful to me!--although she always disliked him, she cried and sobbed most bitterly; and when I would have consoled her she pushed me--yes, me, Sancho, away! Saint Petronila!