How have you kept your word?
You were drunk last Wednesday.
Sandy. Thet's so.
Don Jose. And again last Saturday.
Sandy (slowly). Look yer, ole man, don't ye be too hard on me:
that was the same old drunk.
Don Jose. I am in no mood for trifling. Hark ye, friend Diego.
You have seen, perhaps,--who has not?--that I am a fond, an
indulgent father. But even my consideration for my daughter's
strange tastes and follies has its limit. Your conduct is a
disgrace to the rancho. You must go.
Sandy (meditatively). Well, I reckon, perhaps I'd better.
Don Jose (aside). His coolness is suspicious. Can it be that he
expects the girl will follow him? Mother of God! perhaps it has
been already planned between them. Good! Thank Heaven I can end
it here. (Aloud.) Diego!
Sandy. Old man.
Don Jose. For my daughter's sake, you understand,--for her sake,--
I am willing to try you once more. Hark ye! My daughter is young,
foolish, and romantic. I have reason to believe, from her conduct
lately, that she has contracted an intimacy with some Americano,
and that in her ignorance, her foolishness, she has allowed that
man to believe that he might aspire to her hand. Good! Now listen
to me. You shall stay in her service. You shall find out,--you
are in her confidence,--you shall find out this American, this
adventurer, this lover if you please, of the Dona Jovita my
daughter; and you will tell him this,--you will tell him that a
union with him is impossible, forbidden; that the hour she attempts
it, without my consent, she is PENNILESS; that this estate, this
rancho, passes into the hands of the Holy Church, where even your
laws cannot reach it.
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