Published by special arrangement with Mrs. Lucretia Xavier Floyd and Mr. John Garrett Underhill, the Society of Spanish Authors. Applications for permission to produce this play must be made to the Society of Spanish Authors, Room 62, 20 Nassau Street, New York. A SUNNY MORNING A COMEDY BY SERAFIN AND JOAQUIN ALVAREZ QUINTERO [_Scene laid in a retired part of a park in Madrid, Spain. A bench at right. Bright, sunny morning in autumn. Doña Laura, a handsome old lady of about 70, with white hair and of very refined appearance, although elderly, her bright eyes and entire manner prove her mental facilities are unimpaired. She enters accompanied by her maid Petra, upon whose arm she leans with one hand, while the other holds a parasol which she uses as a cane._] DOÑA LAURA. I am so glad we have arrived. I feared my seat would be occupied. What a beautiful morning! PETRA. The sun is rather hot. DOÑA LAURA. Yes, to you who are only 20 years old. [_She sits down on the bench._] Oh, I feel more tired to-day than usual. [_Noticing Petra, who seems impatient._] Go, if you wish to chat with your guard. PETRA. He is not my guard, Señora; he belongs to the park. DOÑA LAURA. He belongs more to you than to the park. Go seek him, but remain within calling distance. PETRA. I see him over there waiting for me. DOÑA LAURA. Do not remain away more than ten minutes. PETRA. Very well, Señora. [_Walks toward right, but is detained._] DOÑA LAURA. Wait a moment. PETRA. What does the Señora wish? DOÑA LAURA. You are carrying away the bread crumbs. PETRA. Very true. I don't know where my head is. DOÑA LAURA [_smiling_]. I do. It is where your heart is--with your guard. PETRA. Here, Señora. [_She hands Doña Laura a small bag. Exit Petra._] DOÑA LAURA. Adios. [_Glancing toward trees._] Here come the rogues. They know just when to expect me. [_She rises, walks toward right, throws three handfuls of bread crumbs._] These are for the most daring, these for the gluttons, and these for the little ones which are the biggest rogues. Ha, ha. [_She returns to her seat and watches with a pleased expression, the pigeons feeding._] There, that big one is always the first. That little fellow is the least timid. I believe he would eat from my hand. That one takes his piece and flies to that branch. He is a philosopher. But from where do they all come? It seems as if the news had been carried. Ha, ha. Don't quarrel. There is enough for all. To-morrow I'll bring more. [_Enter Don Gonzalo and Juanito. Don Gonzalo is an old gentleman over 70, gouty and impatient. He leans upon Juanito's arm and drags his feet along as he walks. He displays ill temper._] DON GONZALO. Idling their time away. They should be saying Mass. JUANITO. You can sit here, Señor. There is only a lady. [_Doña Laura turns her head and listens to the dialogue._] DON GONZALO. I won't, Juanito. I want a bench to myself.