Paquita. Because you picked the craziest house in the most impossible town that was ever conceived by a man.
Manolo. I leave it to you if a villa on the Côte d'azur can be hired for twenty-five duros a season? I told you to get anything that would suit, and then go there and stay with the children. I can't ask for another vacation; I wouldn't if I could, to spend it with you and the boys. I need a vacation myself.
Paquita. You do? And where would you send me with those five little devils? Talk about murder! We couldn't come down before because of the row they raised when we started to put them to bed. They haven't the slightest respect for their father.
Manolo. Little pitchers have big ears.
Paquita. We have a new maid.
Adelaida. Yes, the one who came yesterday.
Paquita. No, she came to-day; the one yesterday left last night. She seemed to feel strange with the children. She took a prejudice against them because they yelled she was homely.
Adelaida. Are the poor dears all well and strong now?
Paquita. When did you ever hear of their all being well together? Five of them? The two oldest have indigestion. They never miss a day.
Luisa. Why do you let them eat so much?
Paquita. How can I help it? Their father has no authority; it isn't my place to wring their necks. Let them die a natural death. The baby is cutting his teeth. Now we have music all night.
Adelaida. Evidently. Manolo is falling asleep.
Paquita. He isn't the only one who is losing sleep.—Don't make yourself conspicuous.
Manolo. Eh? I beg your pardon… I…
