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Dara. Be not alarmed; waiting. If I have been too bold.— Prec. (turning her back upon him.) You are too bold : Retire retire, and leave me ! Lara. - My dear lady. First hear me ! I beseech you, let me speak : "Tis for your good l come. Prec. (turning toucards hum writh undianation.) You are the Count of Lara, but your deeds Would make the statues of your ancestors Hlush on their tombs'! Is it ('astilian honour, Is it Castilian pride, to steal in here Upon a friendless girl, to do her wrong? O shame ' shame! shame ! that you, a noblelnill), . Should be so little noble in your thoughts As to send jewels here to win my love, And think to buy my honour with your gold ! I have no words to fell you how I scorn you : 13egone ! The sight of you is hateful to me ! Begone, I say: Lara. Be calm; I will not harm you. Prec. Because you dare not. Lara. I dare anything Therefore beware : You are deceived in me. In this false world, we do not always know Who are our friends and who our enemies. We all have enemies, and all need friends. Fiven you, fair Preciosa, here at court Haye foes, who seek to wrong you. Prec. If to this I owe the honour of the present visit, You might have spared the coming. spoken, Once more I beg you, leave me to myself. Lara. I thought it but a friendly part to tell you What strange reports are current here in town. For my own self, I do not credit them; But there are many who, not knowing you, Will lend a readier ear. Prec. There was no need That you should take upon yourself the duty Of telling me these tales. *a. Malicious tongues Are ever busy with your name. Prec. Alas I have no protectors. I am a poor girl, Exposed to insults and unfeeling jests. They wound me, yet I cannot shield myself. I give no cause for these reports. I live Retired; am visited by none. Lara. Iły none * Oh, then, indeed, you are much wronged: Prec. How mean you? Lara. No. nay; I will not wound your gentle sout By the report of idle tales. Pree. What are these idle tales?
line. Lara. I will deal frankly with you. I’ardon
me: This window, o I think, looks towards the
street, And this into the Prado–does it not? In yon high house, beyond the garden wall,— Yoli sce the roof there just above the trees,There lives a friend, who told me yesterday, That on a certain night, — be not offended If I too plainly speak, -he saw a man
I found no one in
Climb to your chamber window. You arc silent : - I would not blame you, being young and
fair— (He tries to embrace her. She starts back, and draws a dagger from her bosom.) Prec. Beware beware! I am a Gipsy girl! Lay not your hand upon me. One step nearer, And I will strike :
Lara, Pray you, put up that dagger. Fear not. Prec. I do not fear. I have a heart
In whose strength I can trust.
Lara. Listen to me. I come here as your friend, –I am your friend, And by a single word can put a stop To all those idle tales, and make your name Spotless as lilies are. Here on my knees, Fair Preciosa! on my knees I swear, I love you even to madness, and that love Has driven me to break the rules of custom. And force myself unasked into your presence.
VICTORIAN enters behind.
Prec. Irise, Count of Lara: That is not the place, For such as you are. It becomes you not To kneel before me. I am strangely moved To see one of your rank thus low and humbled; For your sake I will put aside all anger, All linkind feeling, all dislike, and speak In gentleness, as most becomes a woman, And as my heart now prompts me I no more Will hate you, for all hate is painful to Inc. But if, without offending modesty And that reserve which is a woman's glory, I may speak freely, I will teach my heart To love you. Lara. Prec. Ay, in truth, Far better than you love yourself or me. Lara. Give mé some sign of this, the slightest token. Let me but kiss your hand : Prec. Nay, come no nearer. The words I utter are its sign and token. Misunderstand me not l Be not deceived: The love where with I love you is not such As you would offer me. For you come here, To take from me the only thing I have, My honour. You are wealthy, you have friends And kindred, and a thousand pleasant hopes That fill your heart with happiness; but i Am poor, and friendless, having but one treaSure, And you Wood take that from me, and for What: To flatter your own vanity, and make me Whilt so would most despise. O, Sir, such ove, That seeks to harm me, cannot be true love. Indeed it cannot. , But my love for you Is of a different kind. It seeks your good. It is a holier feeling. It rebukes Your earthly passion, your unchaste desires, And bids you look into your heart, and see How you do wrong that better nature in you, And grieve your soul with sin. Jara. I swear to you, I would not harm you, I would only love you, I would not take your honour, but restore it, And in return I ask but some slight mark Of your affection. If indeed you love me, As you confess you do, oh, let me thus With this embrace— Vict. (rushing forward.) Hold: hold: This is too much. What means this outrage? Lara. First, what right have you To question thus a nobleman of Spain? Vict, I, too, am noble, and you are no more! Out of my sight ! . Lara. Are you the master here Vict. Ay, here and elsewhere, when the wrong | of others Five me the right' s I’rec (to Lara) Go! I beseech you. go! Vict. I shall, have business with you, Count, anon : Lara. You cannot come too soon! ... [Erit Prec. Victorian! Oh, we have been betrayed
O sweet angel!
Prec. Too well thou knowest the presence of that man
ls hateful to me !
Vict. Yet I saw thee stand And listen to him, when he told his love.
Prec. I did not heed his words.
Vict. Indeed thou didst, And answeredst them with love.
Prec. Hadst thou heard all—
Vict. I heard enough.
Prec. Be not so angry with me.
Vict. I am not angry: I am very calm.
Prec If thou wilt let me speak—
Vict. Nay, say no more.
Prec. In my casket.
Vict. There let it rest! I would not have thee
I thought thee spotless, and thou art polluted:
Prec. I call the Heavens to witness—
Vict. Nay, nay, nay, Take not the name of Heaven upon thy lips: They are forsworn!
Prec. Victorian dear Victorian :
Vict. I gave up all for thee: myself, my fame, My hopes of fortune, ay, my very soul! And thou has been my ruini | Now, go on 1 Laugh at my folly with thy paramour, And, sitting on the Count of Lara's knee, Say what a poor, fond fool Victorian was! (IIe casts her from him and rushes out.
closes.) Prec. And this from thee!
Doth shut o from the curious world the knowedge Of evil deeds that have been done in darkness! Ixisgrace laws attany tongues, My fears are windows Through No. all eyes seem gazing. Every aco Expresses some suspicion of my shame, ...And in derision seems to smile at me! Hyp. Pl I not caution thee? Did I not tell nee I was but half persuaded of her virtue? Vict. And yet, Hypolito, we may be wrong, We may be over-hasty in condemning: The Count of Lara is a cursed villain. Hyp. And therefore is she cursed, loving him. Vict. She floos not love him! 'Tis for gold: for gold : oft Ay, but remember, in the public streets He shows a golden ring the Gipsy gave him, A Serpent with a ruby in its mouth. God! she
Vict. She had that ring from me!
- is false! But I will be revenged . The hour is passed. Where stays the coward 2
Hisp. Nay, he is no coward : A villain, if thou wilt, but irot a coward. I've seen him play with swords; it is his pas
And therefore be not over-confident: He'll task thy skill anon. Look, here he comes.
Enter LARA, followed by FRANCISCO. Lara. Good evening, gentlemen.
Hyp. Good evening, Count. Lara. I trust I have not kept you long in
waiting. Vict. Not long, and yet too long. prepared 2 Lara. I am. Hup. quarrel Between you, gentlemen. Is there no way Left open to accord this difference, Iłut you must make one with your swords 2 Vict. No! none! I do entreat thee, dear Hypolito, Stand not between me and my foe. Too long Our tongues have spoken. Let these tongues of Stee End our debate. Fo your guard, Sir Count' (They fight.). VICTORIAN disarms the COUNT, Your life is mine; and what shall now withhold line From sending your vile soul to its account 2 Lara. Strike! strike! Vict. You are disarmed. I will not kill you. I will not murder you. Take up your sword.
It grieves me much to see this
FRANCISCO hands the COUNT his sword, and
Hyp. Enough Let it end here!
Has shown himself a brave man, and Victorian
Lara. I am content.
Vict. Nay, something more than that.
Lara. I understand you. Therein I did not mean to cross your path. To me the door stood open, as to others. Iłut, had I known the girl belonged to you, Never would I have sought to win her from The o stands now revealed. She has
To both of us.
Vict, Alara. In truth line;
I did not seek her; she sought
And told me how to win her, telling me
Ay, my lord.
SCENE VII.-A lane in the suburbs. Nught. Enter CRUZADO and BARTOLOME.
Cruz. And so, Bartolomé, the expedition failed. But where was thou for the most part? Bart. In the Guadarama mountains, near San Ildefonso. to And thou bringest nothing back with ee Didst thou rob no one * Bart. There was no one to rob, save a party of students from Segovia, who looked as if they would rob us; and a jolly little friar, who had flook in his pockets but a missal and a loaf of read. Cruz. Pray, then, what brings thee back to Madrid 2 Bart. First tell me what keeps thee here? Cruz. Preciosa. Bart. And she brings me back. IIas thou forgotten thy promise? Cruz. The two years are not passed yet. Wait patiently. The girl shall be thine. Bart. I hear she has a Busně lover Cruz. That is nothing. -Bart. I do not like it. I hate him, the son of a Busne harlot. He goes in and out, and speaks with her alone, and I must stand aside, and wait his pleasure. Cruz. Be patient, I say. Thou shalt have thy revenge. When the time comes, thou shalt waylay him. Bart. Meanwhile, show me her house. Cruz. Come this way. But thou wilt not find her. She dances at the play to-night. Bart. No matter. Show me the house. [Ereunt.
Don L. Why not music? It softens many hearts. . Lara. Not in the humour
She now is in. Music would madden her.
Don J. Trygoiden cymbals.
Dom L. Yes, try Don Dinero; A mighty wooer is your Don 1)inero.
Lara. To toll the truth, then, I have bribed
her maid. But, Caballeros, you dislike this wine. A bumper and away! for the night wears. A health to Preciosa: (They rise and drunk.)
Lara. (holding up his glass.) Thou bright
and flaming minister of Love! Thou wonderful magician! who hast stolen My secret from me, and 'mid sighs of passion Câught from my lips, with red and fiery tongue Her Yous name ! Oh, never more henceorth
Shall mortal lips press thine: and never more
Scene closes.) Don J. Ite! massa est!
Cruz. They are not coming this way. Bart. Wait, they begin again.
song (coming nearer).
Ah! thou moon that shinest
ACT III. n
SCENE I.—A cross-road through a trood. In the back-ground a distant rullage spure. VICTORIAN and HYPOLITO, HYPOLITO plays and sings.
Ah, Love! Perjured, false, treacherous Love:
To him who keeps most faith with thce.
The falcon has the eyes of the dove.
Perjured, false, treacherous Love!
Vict. Yes, Love is ever busy with his shuttle, Is ever weaving into life's dull warp 13 right, Forgeous flowers and scenos Arcadian ; | Hanging our gloomy prison-house about ! With tapestries, that make its walls dilate In never-ending vistas of delight. Hup. Thinking to walk in those Arcadian | pastures, Thou hast run thy noble head against the wall.
| Thy deceits
Give us clearly to comprehend,
All thy pleasures, all thy sweets!
Thorns below and flowers above.
Perjured, false, treacherous Love :
Vict. A very pretty song. I thank thee for it. Hup. It suits thy case.
Vict. In truth, a pretty song. Jiup. With much truth in it, I hope thou wilt profit by it; and in carnest Try to forget this lady of thy love. Wict, I will forget her. As dear recollections Pressed in my heart, like flowers within a book, Shall be torn out, and scattered to the winds ! I will forget her! But perhaps hereafter, When she shall learn how heartless is the world, A voice within her will repeat my name. And she will say, “He was indeed my friend'" Oh, would I were a soldier, not a scholar, That the loud march, the deafening beat of
drums, | The shattering blast of the brass-throated trumpet
The din of arms, the onslaught and the storm, And a swift death, might make me deaf for ever To the upbraidings of this foolish heart! Hup. Then let that foolish neart up braid no more . To conquer love, one need but will to conquer. !'uct. Yet, good Hypolito it is in vain ! I throw into Oblivion's sea the Sword That pierces me: for, like Excalibar, With gemmed and flas ing hilt, - sink. There rises from below a hand that grasps it, And waves it in the air: and wailing voices Are heard along the shore. | Hup. And yet at last Down sank Excalibar to rise no more. This is not well. In truth, it vexes Inc. | Instead of whistling to the steeds of Time, To muake them jog on merrily with life's bur
it will net
Vict, Yet I fain would die! To go through life, unloving and unloved : To feel that thirst and hunger of the soul We cannot | , that longing, that wild impulse, And struggle after something we have not, And cannot have: the effort to be strong; And, like the Spartan boy, to smile, and smile, While secret wounds do bleed beneath our cloaks: All this the dead feel not, -the dead alone! Would I Were with them : Iłup. We shall all be soon. Vict. It canriot be too soon; for I am weary Of the bewildering masquerade of Life, Where strangers walk as friends, and friends as strangers: Where whispers overheard betray false hearts: And through the mazes of the crowd we chase Some form of loveliness, that smiles, and beckons, And cheats us with fair words, only to leave us: A mockery and a jest: maddened, -confused,— Not knowing friend from foe. Hup. Why seek to know? Enjoy the merry shrove-tide of thy youth : Take each fair mask for what it gives itself, N% strive to look beneath it. ict. That were the wiser part. Comforts my soul. I am a wretched man. Much like a poor and shipwrecked mariner Who, struggling to climb up into the boat, Has both his bruised and bleeding hands cut
I confess, But Hope no longer
off, And sinks again into the weltering sea, Helpless and hopeless! Hup. Yet thou shalt not perish. The strength of thine own arm is thy salvation. Above thy head, through rifted clouds, there shines A glorious star. Be patient. Trust thy star! (Sound of a village bell in the distance.) Vict. Ave Maria! I hear the sacristan Ringing the chimes from yonder village belfry : A solemn sound, that echoes far and wide Over the red roofs of the cottages, And o labouring hind a-field, the shephero Guarding his flock, the lonely muleteer, And all the crowd in village streets, stand still, And breathe a prayer unto the blessed Virgin' Hyp. A. amen! Not half a league from hence The village lies. Viet. This path will lead us to it, Over the wheat-fields, where the shadows sail Across the running sea, now green, now blue, And, like an idle mariner on the main, Whistles the quail. Come, let us hasten on. (Ereunt.
Padre C. Good day, and God be with you! Pray, what is it? Pedro P. An act of banishment against the Gipsies: (Aquation and murmurs in the crowd.) Pancho. Silence: Pedro P. (ods) “I hereby order and commalld, That the Egyptian and Chaldean strangers. Known by the name of Gipsies, shall henceforth Be banished from the reasm, as vagabonds And beggars; and if, after seventy days, Any be found within our kingdom's bounds, They shall receive a hundred lashes each : The second time shall have their ears cut off: The thiro be slaves for iife to him who takes them, Or burnt as heretics. Signed i, the King.” Wile miscreants and creatures unbaptized: You hear the law . Obey and disappear; Pancho. And if in seventy days you art not gone, Dead or alive I make you all my slaves.
(The Gipsies go out in confusion, showing signs of fear and discontent. PANCHO follows.) .
Padre C. A., righteous law: A very righteous law . Pray you sit down. Pedro P. I thank you heartily. (They seat themselves on a bench at the PADRE CURA'S door. Sound of guitars heard at a distance, approaching during the dualogue which follows.) A very righteous judgment, as you sa Now tell me. Padre Cura, -you things.-How came these Gipsies into Spain? Padre C. Why. look you; They came with IIercules from Palestine, And hence are thieves and vagrants, Sir Alcalde, As the Simoniacs from Simon Magus. And, look you, as Fray Jayme Bleda says. There are a hundred marks to prove a Moor Is not a Christian, so 'tis with the Gipsies. They never marry, never go to mass, Never baptize their children, nor keep Lent, Nor see the inside of a church,-nor—onor— Pedro P. Good reasons—good, substantial reasons all ! No matter for the other ninety-five. They should be burnt, I see it plain enough, They should be burnt.
Enter VICTORIAN and HYPOLIto, playing.
Padre C. And pray, whom have we here? Pedro P. More vagrants : By Saint Lazarus, - more vagrants : Hup. Good evening, gentlemen! Is this Guadarama 3 Padre C. Yes, Guadarama, and good evening to
you. Ilup. We seek the Padre Cura of the village: And, judging from your dress and reverend mien. You must be he. Padre ('. I am. Pray. what's your pleasure? 1/up. We are poor students, travelling in vacation. You know this mark? (Touchona the wooden spoon in his hat-band ) Padre C. (joufully.) Ay, know it, and have worn it. Pedro P. (asude.) Soup-eaters : by the mass' The worst of vagrants : And there's no law against them. v:al)t. Padre C. Your servant, Pedro Cresno. Hop. Padre Cura, Frois; the first moment I he held your face, ! said within myself, “This is the man ." There is a certain something in your looks. A certain scholar-like and studious sometiling.—