and thus
far am I renegade, that, with the prophet, I cannot allow them souls.

_Felix._ You are incorrigible. Change the discourse, or I shall lose my
temper and that opinion of you, which, 'gainst my better sense, I fain
would keep. Our subject was Don Gaspar.

_Perez._ Yes--and my object is to find out who he is, and, if basely
born, to hunt him out of Seville.

_Felix._ That there's mystery is evident; but when you hunt, see if such
quarry, good Perez, turn not to bay. But new in Seville, I ne'er have
encountered this prodigy; if his rank be mere assumption, he must be
exposed; yet, Perez, there may be many causes for an incognito. Our
Spain is wide and well peopled with those who boast high ancestry.

_Perez._ If then so wide, there's room for him elsewhere. But here comes
Sancho with intelligence. (_Enter Sancho._)

How now, Sancho,--what have you discovered?

_San._ (_Affectedly._) I am not quite a fool, Santa Petronila knows
that, good sirs,--not quite a fool. I think you are fortunate in your
servant. You'll excuse me, but I have seen the person whom you
mentioned.

_Perez._ Well--

_San._ I have seen him, sir, by Saint Petronila!

_Perez._ And spoke to him, I trust.

_San._ Yes, sir, and, by the same holy saint! I have spoken to him.

_Perez._ To what purpose have you spoken to this Antonio?

_San._ To _your_ purpose, sir.

_Perez._ What did he tell you? I cry your patience, Felix, but this mule
cannot be driven. What did he tell you, sirrah?

_San._ You do not know what first I said to _him_,--would you have the
answer before the question?

_Perez._ Well, what said you first to him?

_San._ With all good courtesy I wished him a good morning. He did the
same to me.

_Perez._ Well.

_San._ I then discoursed about Saint Petronila, the wind, the pope, and
the weather. No, I recollect, it was the weather before the saint. I
think--yes--I am sure it was; how the saint brought in the wine, I know
not; but we proceeded on to wine and women, which last discourse made us
thirsty, so we adjourned into a wine-house. Saint Petronila shrive me!
when we became most intimate, and after much beating about the bush, I
discovered that his master--

_Perez._ Who--what?

_San._ Don Gaspar, sir.

_Perez._ Idiot! is that all?

_San._ No,--only half; I found out more without him. He finished off his
wine and left me without any more information, declaring that was all
he knew himself; and that he had t