A splendid soliloquy of _Lucifer_ hurled from heaven: "Light am I, as my name proclaims—and the light of my fall kindled all the great abyss. Because I would not humble myself, I, who was the Captain General, be it known to all men, am to-day the accursed of God.... To thee, O mountains, and to thee, O sea, I will make my complaint, and thus—alas!—relieve my overburdened breast.... Cruel fortune, why art thou so inflexibly severe? ... I who yesterday dwelt serene in yonder starry vault am to-day disinherited, abandoned. Because of my mad envy and ambition, because of my rash presumption, gone is my palace of yesterday, and to-day finds me sad among these mountains, mute witnesses of my grievous and pitiful state.... O mountains! happy art thou!—happy art thou in all, whether bleak and bare, or gay with leafy verdure! O ye swift brooks flowing free, behold me! ..." "Good! good!" said the audience. "That’s the way Huerta is going to feel when the Maderistas enter Mexico City!" shouted one irrepressible revolutionist, amid laughter. "Behold me in my affliction and guilt——" continued Luzbel. Just then a large dog came through the curtain, cheerfully wagging his tail. Immensely pleased with himself, he nosed among the children, licking a face here and there. One baby slapped him violently, and the dog, hurt and astonished, made a rush between _Lucifer’s_ legs in the midst of that sublime peroration. A second time _Lucifer_ fell, and, rising amid the wild hilarity of the house, laid about her with her sword. At least fifty of the audience descended upon the dog and ejected him howling, and the play went on. _Laura_, married to _Arcadio_, a shepherd, appeared singing at the door of her cottage—that is to say, through the curtain.... "How peacefully falls the light of the moon and the stars this supremely beautiful night! Nature appears to be on the point of revealing some wonderful secret. The whole world is at peace, and all hearts, methinks, are overflowing with joy and contentment.... But—who is this—of such pleasing presence and fascinating figure?" _Lucifer_ prinked and strutted, avowing with Latin boldness his love for her. She replied that her heart was _Arcadio’s_; but the Arch-devil dwelt upon her husband’s poverty, and himself promised her riches, towering palaces, jewels and slaves. "I feel that I am beginning to love thee," said _Laura_. "Against my will—I cannot deceive myself——" At this point there was smothered laughter in the audience: "Antonia! Antonia!" said everybody, grinning and nudging. "That’s just the way Antonia left Enrique! I always thought the Devil was in it!" remarked one of the women. But _Laura_ had pangs of conscience about poor _Arcadio_. _Lucifer_ insinuated that _Arcadio_ was secretly in love with another, and that settled it. "So that thou mayst not be troubled," _Laura_ said calmly, "and, so that I may be free from him, I shall even watch for an opportunity to kill him."