“‘Tis not etiquette that thou shouldst be bound to her side. Good friend, come walk by me. The Senor himself will care for her right heartily. So please thee, walk walk.” “Oh! be not afraid, Masetto, the senor will guard me.” “But!--but!--” “Verily, friend Masetto, thou art little better than a curmudgeon. Walk, I say, walk.” “Dost thou not breathe more lightly, Zerlina?” “Wherefore, Senor?” “That the clown hath gone.” “Nay--he hath my love!” “A king should have thy love; those pretty lips, those eyes, those little fingers, were not made for clowns.” “Nay--but I love him!” “And I love _thee_. A poor home, and a poor husband--is this thy lot? See away there, ’tis my house, ’tis my palace. I love thee, I love thee. Wilt thou be my wife, Zerlina?” “Wife, Senor, _thy_ wife?” “Choose between us, Masetto or Don Juan.” “I--I, then, a great lady. Yet, Masetto.” “Come my love, come, my love.” But the don started and turned pale, for as he made a step forward with the simple little Zerlina, there was standing Donna Elvira. “Thou seest,” he said rapidly, before she could speak, “I am but toying with her simplicity, I mean no harm.” “No harm, Don Juan, thou art destruction.” “Nay, believe her not, charming Zerlina, ’tis a poor forlorn creature, who followeth me because I cannot love her. Well, if she will not quit me, I will her;” and lightly he ran away. She pitied him, did the donna, nay she still loved him somewhat; but for all that, she warned Zerlina of him and went away with that simple little maiden, hand in hand. Barely had they left the spot, than Don Juan was upon it again, for he had determined upon keeping the little village maiden in view. But barely had he returned to the spot than he was accosted by one whom he would fain have not seen, Don Ottavio, the cavalier of Donna Anna. The don was not easily abashed, so he came lightly to Ottavio’s side, but he thought to himself that this was one of his unlucky days. “This meeting is fortunate, Don Juan, if thou hast a generous heart.” “I hope for thy sake and mine own, that I have.” “For we have need of thy friendship.” “I breathe again,” thought the don, who, brave as he was, had trembled in meeting the injured lady, Donna Anna. “Command me,” he said aloud, “my arms are thine, if ’tis a question of arms. But Donna Anna, why these tears?” “Do not hear him,” said a voice; and the three turning, saw Donna Elvira, who had determined to keep Juan in view; “do not hear him, he hath destroyed me.” “Pardon her Ottavio, and you, Donna Anna, she is a poor deranged lady; leave her to me.” “Do not believe him!” “Poor lady! You see!” “Do not believe him!” Donna Anna and Ottavio seemed puzzled by this meeting. The lady seemed sane, and yet Don Juan was a man of probity, said all the world.