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Thou knowest it is at Whitsuntide. Thy cards forsooth can never lic, To me such joy they prophecy. Thy skill shall be vaunted far and wide When they behold him at my side. And, poor Baptiste, what say est, thou? It must som long to him;—methinks I see him now !” Jane, shuddering, her hand doth press: “Thy love I cannot all approve; We must not trust too much to happiness; Go, pray to God, that thou mayst love him less!” “The more I pray the more I love! It is no sin, for God is on my side :" It was enough; and Jane no more replied. Now to all hope her heart is barred and cold; But to deceive the beldame old She takes a sweet, contented air; Speaks of foul weather or of fair, At every word the maiden smiles! Thus the beguiler she beguiles; So that departing, at the evening's close, She says, “She may be saved : she nothing knows!” Poor Jane, the cunning sorceress! Now that thou wouldst, thou art no prophetess; This morning, in the fulness of thy heart, Thou wast so, far beyond thine art :
She could no more—the blind girl, weak and
At length the bell, With booming sound, Sends forth, resounding round, Its hymeneal peal o'er rock and down the dell. It is broad day, with sunshine and with rain, And yet the guests delay not long, For soon arrives the bridal train, And with it brings the village throng.
In sooth, deceit maketh no mortal gay,
And Angela thinks of her cross, I wis;
At eve instead of bridal verse,
No, ah, no! for each one seemed to say:
SCENE. I.-The COUNT OF LARA's Chambers. Might. The COUNT un his dressing-gown, smoking and conversog with DON CARLOS.
lar: * were not at the play to-night, Don Carlos; How happened it 2 Don C. thad engagements elsewhere, Pray who was there? Lara. Why, all the town and court. The house was crowded: and the busy fans Among the gayly-dressed and perfumed tadies Fluttered like butterfiles among the flowers. There was the Countess Medina Celi: The Goblin Lady with her Phantom Lover, lier Lindo Don Diego; Dona Sol, And Dona Serafina, and her cousins. Don C. What was the play? Lara. It was a dull affair; One of those comedies in which you see, As Lope says, the history of the world, Brought down from Genesis to the Day of Judgment. There were three duels fought in the first act, Three gentlemen receiving deadly wounds, Laying to: hands upon their hearts, and sayng, “Oh, I am dead!" a lover in a closet, An old hidalgo, and a gay Don Juan, A loona Inez with a black mantilla, Followed at twilight by an unknown lover, Who looks intently where he knows she is not! Don C. Of course the Preciosa danced tonight? Larq., And never better. Every footstep fell As lightly as a sunbeam on the water. I think the girl extremely beautiful Don C. Almost beyond the privilege of woman . I saw her in the Prado yesterday. Her step was royal,—queen-like —and her face As beautiful as a Saint's in Paradise. Lara. May not a Saint fall from her Paradise, And be no more a saint? Don C. Why do you ask? Lara. of use I've heard it said this angel eII, And though she is a virgin outwardly, Within she is a sinner; like those panels Qf loors and altar-pieces the old monks Painted in convents, with the Virgin Mary On the outside, and on the inside Venus: Don C. You do her wrong; indeed, you do her wrong.
She is as virtuous as she is fair.
Don C. Nay, not to be won at all!
The only virtue that a o prizes
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(hispa. Abernuncio Satanas ; and a plague on all lovers who ramble about at night, drink ing the clements, instead of sleeping quietly in their beds. Every dead man to his cemetery, say I : and every friar to his monastery. Now, here's my master, Victorian, yesterday a cow. keeper, and to-day a gentleman: yesterday a student, and to-day a lover; and I must be up later than the nightingale. for as the abbot sings so must the sacristan respond. God grant he may soon be married, for then shall all this seremading cease. Ay, marry marry : marry! Mother, what does marry mean? It means to spin, to bear children, and to weep, my daughter! And of a truth, there is something more in matrimony than the wedding-ring. (To the musicians.) And now, gentlemen, Pax vobiscum ! as the ass said to the cabbages. Pray, walk this way: and don't hang down your heads. It is no disgrace to have an old father and a ragged shirt. Now, look you, you are gentlemen who iead the life of crickets; you enjoy hunger by day, and noise by night. Yet, I beseech you, for this once be not loud. but pathetic : for it is a serenade to a damsel in bed, and not to the Man in the Moon Your object is not to arouse and terrisy, but to soothe and bring lulling dreams. Therefore, each shall not play his instrument as if it were the only one in the universe, but gently, and with fi certain modesty, according with the others. Pray, how may I call thy name. my friend? First Mus Gerónimo Gil, at your service. Chispa. Every tub smells of the wine that is in it. Pray, Gerónimo, is not Saturday an unpleasant day with thee z Forst Mus Why so o Cospa. IBecause I have heard it said that Saturday is an unpleasant day with those who have but one shirt. Moreover, I have seen thee at the tavern, and if thou canst run as fast as thou canst drink. I should like to hunt hares with thee. What instrument is that 2 First Mus. An Aragonese bagpipe. Chispa. Pray, art (bou related to the bagpiper of Bujalance, who asked a maravedi for playing, and ten for leaving off 2 First Mus. No, your honour. Chispa. I am glad of it. What other instru. ments have we ? second and 77 ord Mits. We durria. Chispa. A pleasing instrument. Fourth Mus. 'I ..., rise.
play the ban
And thou ?
like the song of a swallow. And you othor. (Mther Mus. We are singers, please your honour Chispa. You are too many. 1)o you think wo are going to sing mass in the cathedral of ("or. dova & Four men can make but little use of one shoe, and I see not how you can all sing in one song. But follow me along the garden wal. This is the way my master climbs to the lady's window. It is by the vicar's skirts that the devil climbs into the belfry. Come, follow me, and make no noise. [Ereunt
Vict. ro little dove : thou tremblest like a caf: Prec. I am so frightened! 'Tis for thoo I tremble : I hate to have thee climb that wall by night ! Did no one see thee? Vict. None. my love, but thou. 1°rec. "Tis very dangerous; and when thou art gone I chide myself for letting thee come here Thus stealthily by night. Where hast thou been 2 Since yesterday I have no news from thee. Vict. Since yesterday I've been in Alcalá. Ere long the time will come, sweet Preciosa. When that dull distance shall no more divide us: And I no more shall scale thy wall by night To steal a kiss from thee, ats I do now. Prec. An honest thief, to steal but what thou givest. !'ict. And we shall sit together unmolested, And words of true love pass from tongue to tongue, As singlng birds from one bough to another. Prec. That were a life indeed to make time envious ! I knew that thou wouldst visit me to night. I saw thee at the play,
Vict. Sweet child of air! Mever did I behold thee so attired And garmented in beauty as to-night! What hast thou done to make thee look so fair? Prec. Am I not always fair? Vict. Ay, and so fair That I am jealous of all eyes that see thee, And wish that they were blind. Prec. I heed them not : When thou art present, I see none but thee! Vict. There's nothing fair nor beautiful but takes Something from thee that makes it beautiful. Prec. And yet thou leavest me for those dusty books. Vict. Thou comest books too often I see thy face in every thing I see: The paintings in the chapel wear thy looks, The canticles are changed to sarabans. And with the learned doctors of the schools J see thee dance cachucas. Prec. In good sooth, I dance with learned doctors of the schools To-morrow morning. Wict. And with whom, I pray ? Prec. A grave and reverend Cardinal, and his Grace The Archbishop of Toledo. Wuct. Is this 2 Prec. It is no jest: indeed it is not. Vict. Prithee, explain thyself. Prec. Why, simply thus. Thou knowest the Pope has sent here into Spain To put a stop to dancing on the stage. Vict. I have heard it whispered. Prec. Now the Cardinal, Wilu, to this purpose comes, would fain beiO With his own eyes these dances; and the Archbishop Has sent for me— Vict. That thou mayst dance before them: Now viva la cachucha! It will breat he The fire of youth into these grey old men! 'i will be thy proudest conquest: Prec. Saving one. And yet I fear these dances will be stopped, And Preciosa be once more a beggar. Vict. o sweetest beggar that e^er asked for alms : With such beseeching eyes, that when I saw
between me and those
What mad jest
thee I gave my heart away, I’rec. Dost thou remember When first we met 2 Vict. It was at ('ordova,
In the cathedral garden. Thou wast sitting
vio That was the first sound in the song of ove : Scarce more than silence is, and yet a sound. Hands of invisible spirits touch the strings Of that mysterious instrument, the Soul, And play the prelude of our fate. We hear The voice prophetic, and are not alone. Prec. That is my faith. Dost thou believe these warnings. Vict. So far as this. thoughts Tend ever on, and rest not on the Present. As drops of rain fall into some dark well, And from below comes a scarce audible sound, So fall our thoughts into the dark IIereafter, And their mysterious echo reaches us. Prec. 1 hiye selt it so, but found no words to say it ! : I cannot reason: I can onl But thou hast language feelings. Thou art a schoiar; and sometimes I think We cannot walk together in this world: The distance that divides us is too great! I lenceforth thv pathway lies among the stars; I must not hoid thee back. Wuct. Thou little sceptic : Dost thou still doubt? What I most prize in woth lan | Is her affections, not her intellect! The intellect is finite, but the affections Are infinite, and cannot be exhausted. Compare me with the great men of the eart!.; What am I? Why, a pigmy among giants: But if thou lovest,-mark me ! I say lovest, The greatest of thy sex excels thee not! The world of the affections is thy world, Not that of man's ambition. In that stillness Which most becomes a woman, calm and holy, Thou sittest by the fireside of the heart, Feeding its flame. The element of fire Is pure. It cannot change nor hide its nature, But burns as brightly in a Gipsy camp As in a palace-hall. Art thou convinced 2 Prec. Yes, that I love thee, as the good lovg heaven: But not that I am worthy of that heaven. How shall I more deserve it? Wict. Loving more. Prec. I foot love thee more; my heart is tli i. Vict. Then let it overflow, and I will drink it, As in the summer-time the thirsty sands Drink the swift waters of the Mainzanares, And still do thirst for more. A Watchman (in the Street). Ave Maria Purissima : 'Tis midnight and serene ! Vict. Hear'st thou that cry?
Our feelings and cur
fool! or all thoughts and
Prec. It is a hateful sound, To scare thee from me! Vict. As the hunter's horn
I)oth scare the timid stag, or bark of hounds
Prec. Pray do not go!
Vict. I must away to Alcala to-night.
Prec. Fear not!
Vict. (giring her a ring). And to remind thee of
my love, take this:
A serpent, emblem of Eternity:
Pred. It is an ancient saying that the ruby
!'uct. What convent of barefooted Carmelites Taught thee so much theology?
Prec. (| her hand upon his mooth.) Hush!
... in usin . Good no and may all holy angels guard thee! -