Elvira, come to me, come to me.”
“She yieldeth now. By my faith, I would I had such a deft tongue i’ my head. She hath left the window.”
“Friend Leporello, dost thou not admire me?”
“Master, if thou comest not from heaven, of a surety I know thy cradle—’tis below, master, ’tis below!”
“Now remember thee of this. When she cometh out, smother her in thy arms. Speak as I speak, yet not fine like a woman. Then deftly discourse her away.”
“Good. But if she find me out?”
“Then hadst thou best scarify thyself.”
“Good. My faith, a pretty posture mine. I will leave this master. I will leave him.”
Here the luckless lady came from the house.
“Nay Juan, did I ever think my sorrow would melt thy heart. Thou dost, then, repent thee of thy desertion?”
“Aye, do I.”
“I have sighed as the south wind sigheth all the long night through.”
“Eugh.”
“But thou wilt never leave me again.”
“Angel, never.”
“Thou wilt forever be mine.”
“Eugh.”
“And thou wilt never deceive me again?”
“Ne—e—ver.”
“Thou wilt swear.”
“I swear by this kiss upon thy hand.”
“Ha! ha! ho! the guard, the guard.” Thus cried Don Juan, while the unfortunate lady ran quickly away.
The don was about to enter at the open door, when he stopped suddenly, as he saw Masetto come stealthily along, accompanied by some friends. For the young Zerlina’s sake he was interested.
“Now, who goeth there?”
“A friend; my faith, ’tis Masetto. Ah, Masetto! What, knowest thou me not?”
“Why, thou art the very foul one’s servant!”
“Don Juan’s; ah, ’tis a base man, Masetto; a base man. I have left him for a godly service.”
“Truly? But canst thou tell me where I shall find him, for we would fain cudgel him to death?”
“Good. I will help you, my master, to punish this sinner unparalleled. He is near at hand, my masters, and making love, for he hath a rare habit of making love. Go you—all. I and Masetto will follow you.”
So the peasants went off stealthily on their toes, each hoping to have a hand in towelling the don.
“So, Masetto, thou wilt cudgel him to the death.”
“To the very death; good.”
“Wouldst not be satisfied with a few broken bones?”
“Talk not to me of broken bones only, he shall soon know of no bones, marry.”
“Thou’rt well armed, friend?”
“A cudgel, sir, i’faith such as shall make a broad-chested man fly before thee; feel not its weight. Oh, oh. My head, mercy o’ my head. My back, wouldst twitter my back to a jelly? Marry, now, ’twas an awful thwack to the elbow; help, oh, oh. See what ’tis to trust people. Help!”
Here the don finding his vicious arm quite weak, stole away in the dark, each of Masetto’s “helps” growing fainter and fainter.
Now little Zerlina had followed her rustic afar off, and when she heard his yells, she came with quite a run to his side. Arrived there, she saw no one near him; but he was still yelling, and rubbing all of his back he could get at.
“Masetto, Masetto, what hast thou?”
“By my faith, what have I not? I am beaten to a jelly!”
“Who hath beaten thee?”
“A man of a foul tongue and a strong arm.”
“Where is he?”
“I know not, but that he is gone. Why art thou here? Oh, gadabout, why art thou here?”
“Thou art jealous again.”
“Why art thou here? Now answer me that, straightly and purely.”
“Thou shalt see, O dearest, what my answer is. For a reason that no money could purchase nor art wrest from me—that thou mightst lay thy hand—thy hand here on my heart.”
Whereon the jealous young rustic marched home appeased.
CHAPTER VI.
The worthy servant and the worthy master were once more together; they met in the cemetery.
The don was wondering how his servant had managed with the Donna Elvira, when that valuable factotum ran up against his master.
“This master will destroy me.”
“What! dost ruffle with thy master?
“Yes, I say again—would I had never known this master.”
“What, rapscallion!”
“I tell thee I have rarely escaped a murdering business and I love not blood, my master; no, I love not blood.”
“’Twould be an honor to lose blood for thy master’s sake.”
“Faith! I would sooner keep it for mine own.”
“Come, I have rare adventures to tell thee.”
“Good master, tell them me at home; but, master, what devilment brings thee here?”
“I have had a wondrous adventure.”
“The poor woman!”
“I met her in the street. Thou may’st guess, I briskly went to her. Take her by the hand, do I? Aye, yes. When, thou dog, whom, thinkest thou, she took me for? Thyself was it? Yes, then.”
“For me! then, master, that woman hath abused herself in this, for I will have nought to do with the sex.”
“But, faith!
