[Exit MANUELA.
Starbottle (solus). How would it do to get up a prodigal? Umph.
Something must be done soon: the old man grows languid in his
search. My position as a sinecure is--er--in peril. A prodigal
ready made! But could I get a scoundrel bad enough to satisfy the
old man? Ged, that's serious. Let me see: he admits that he is
unable to recognize his own son in face, features, manner, or
speech. Good! If I could pick up some rascal whose--er--
irregularities didn't quite fill the bill, and could say--Ged!--
that he was reforming. Reforming! Ged, Star! That very defect
would show the hereditary taint, demn me! I must think of this
seriously. Ged, Star! the idea is--an inspiration of humanity and
virtue. Who knows? it might be the saving of the vagabond,--a
crown of glory to the old man's age. Inspiration, did I say? Ged,
Star, it's a DUTY,--a sacred, solemn duty, for which you are
responsible,--personally responsible.
Lights down half. Enter from corridor L., MORTON, DON JOSE, the
DONA JOVITA, and MANUELA.
Dona Jovita (stepping forward with exaggerated Spanish courtesy).
A thousand graces await your Excellency, Commander Don--Don--
Starbottle (bowing to the ground with equal delight and exaggerated
courtesy). Er--Coolpepero!
Dona Jovita. Don Culpepero! If we throw ourselves unasked at your
Excellency's feet (courtesy), if we appear unsought before the
light of your Excellency's eyes (courtesy), if we err in maidenly
decorum in thus seeking unbidden your Excellency's presence
(courtesy), believe us, it is the fear of some greater, some graver
indecorum in our conduct that has withdrawn your Excellency's
person from us since you have graced our roof with your company.
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