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ROMIERO.

Who does not care? It is an age of duty;

Nought now is cherish'd in the tender breast
But ties of blood; and his good company,
With all his lore and saws and thrice-told tales,
Will well reward the virtue of this youth.
Go to your cave, and see it in its beauty:
The billows else may wash its shelly sides,
And make it bare and little worth to-morrow.
(Aside to Guzman.) Take him away: why do ye linger here?

GUZMAN (aside to him).

Why speak'st thou so unkindly to the youth?

ROMIERO (aside).

Spoke I unkindly? Then 't was unawares.

I meant it not.

GUZMAN (aside).

Be civil to him then, and make amends;

He stares and wonders at such taunting words.

ROMIERO (aloud).

A pleasant ride, my friends. (They turn to go, and he calls after them.) And hark, Don Maurice!

If thou preferr'st a wayward captious host

(For such I do confess myself to be).
With two fair ladies (both methinks are fair),
To thine old kinsman's company, return,
And be one night at least our honour'd guest.