And told me how to win her, telling me
The hours when she was oftenest left alone.

Vict. Say, can you prove this to me? Oh, pluck out

These awful doubts, that goad me into madness!
Let me know all! all! all!
Lara.
You shall know all.
Here is my page, who was the messenger
Between us. Question him. Was it not so,

Francisco? Fran. Lara.

Ay, my lord.

If further proof
Is needful, I have here a ring she gave me.
Vict. Pray let me see that ring! It is the
same!

(Throws it upon the ground, and tramples upon it.)
Thus may she perish who once wore that ring!
Thus do I spurn her from me; do thus trample
Her memory in the dust! O Count of Lara,
We both have been abused, been much abused!
I thank you for your courtesy and frankness.
Though, like the surgeon's hand, yours gave me

pain,

Yet it has cured my blindness, and I thank you.'
I now can see the folly I have done,
Though 'tis, alas! too late. So fare you well!
To-night I leave this hateful town for ever.
Regard me as your friend. Once more, fare-
well!

Hyp. Farewell, Sir Count.

[Exeunt VICTORIAN and HYPOLITO. Farewell! farewell!

Lara. Thus have I cleared the field of my worst foe! I have none else to fear? the fight is done, The citadel is stormed, the victory won!

[Exit with FRANCISCO.

Thou wonderful magician! who hast stolen My secret from me, and 'mid sighs of passion

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.

Cruz. And thou bringest nothing back with

thee?

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 nothing in his pockets but a missal and a loaf of

bread.

Cruz. Pray, then, what brings thee back to Madrid?

Bart. First tell me what keeps thee here?
Cruz. Preciosa.

Bart. And she brings me back. Has 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 Busnè lover
Cruz. That is nothing.

-Bart. I do not like it. I hate him, the son of a Busnè 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.

[Exeunt.

SCENE VIII.-The Theatre. The orchestra plays the cachucha. Sound of castanets behind the scenes. The curtain rises, and discovers PRECIOSA in the attitude of commencing the dance. The cachucha. Tumult; hisses; cries of "Brava!" and "Afuera!" She falters and pauses. The music stops. General confusion. PRECIOSA faints.

Her precious name! Oh, never more henceforth

Shall mortal lips press thine: and never more
A mortal name be whispered in thine ear.
Go! keep my secret!

(Drinks and dashes the goblet down. Scene closes.)

Don J.

Ite! missa est!

Good night! Good night, beloved!
I come to watch o'er thee!
To be near thee.-to be near thee,
Alone is peace for me.

Thine eyes are stars of morning, Thy lips are crimson flowers! Good night! Good night, beloved, While I count the weary hours. Cruz. They are not coming this way. Bart. Wait, they begin again.

SONG (coming nearer).
Ah! thou moon that shinest
Argent-clear above!
All night long enlighten

My sweet lady-love
Moon that shinest,
All night long enlighten

[Exeunt. On the opposite side enter the COUNT OF LARA and Gentlemen, with FRANCISCO. Lara. The gate is fast. Over the wall, Francisco,

And draw the bolt. There, so, and so, and over. Now, gentlemen. come in, and help me scale Yon balcony. How now? Her light still burns. Move warily. Make fast the gate, Francisco. [Exeunt. Re-enter CRUZADO and BARTOLOME. Bart. They went in at the gate. Hark! I hear them in the garden. (Tries the gate.) Bolted again! Vive Cristo! Follow me over the wall. (They climb the wall.)

night;

I am too ill! Look at me! See the fever

That burns upon my cheek! I must go hence,
I am too weak to dance.

(Signal from the garden) Dol. (from the window.) Who's there? Voice (from below.) A friend. Dol I will undo the door. Wait till I come. Prec. I must go hence. I pray you do not harm me!

Shame! shame! to treat a feeble woman thus!
Be you but kind, I will do all things for you.
I am ready now,-give me my castanets.
Where is Victorian? Oh, those hateful lamps!
They glare upon me like an evil eye.

I cannot stay. Hark! how they mock at me! They hiss at me like serpents! Save me! save me!

How late it is, Dolores?

Dol.

(She wakes.) It is midnight.

Prec. We must be patient. Smooth this pillow for me.

(She sleeps again. Noise from the garden, and voices.)

Voice. Mnera!

Enemy

Of all that mankind may not rue!
Most untrue

To him who keeps most faith with thee.
Woe is ine!

The falcon has the eyes of the dove.
Ah, Love!

Perjured, false, treacherous Love!

Vict. Yes, Love is ever busy with his shuttle, Bright, gorgeous flowers and scenes Arcadian; Is ever weaving into life's dull warp Hanging our gloomy prison-heuse about With tapestries, that make its walls dilate In never-ending vistas of delight.

Hyp. Thinking to walk in those Arcadlan pastures,

Thou hast run thy noble head against the wall. SONG (continued).

Thy deceits

Give us clearly to comprehend,
Whither tend

All thy pleasures, all thy sweets!
They are cheats,

Thorns below and flowers above.
Ah, Love!

Perjured, false, treacherous Love!

Vict. A very pretty song. I thank thee for it.
Hyp. It suits thy case.
Vict.
Indeed, I think it does

What wise man wrote it?
Hyp.

Lopez Maldonado,

With much truth in it,

Vict. In truth, a pretty song.
Hyp.

I hope thou wilt profit by it; and in carnest
Try to forget this lady of thy love.

Vict, I will forget her! All 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!
Hyp. Then let that foolish neart upbraid no

more!

Another voice. O villains! villains! Lara.

Voice. Take that! Lara.

Oh, I am wounded! Dol. (shutting the window.)

Jesu Maria!

Vict.
Yet I fain would die!
To go through life, loving and unloved;
To feel that thirst and hunger of the soul
We cannot still, that longing. that wild im-
pulse,

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!

Hyp.
We shall all be soon.
Vict. It cannot 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.

Hyp.
Why seek to know?
Enjoy the merry shrove-tide of thy youth!
Take each fair mask for what it gives itself,
Nor strive to look beneath it.

Vict.
I confess,
That were the wiser part. But Hope no longer
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 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 bids the labouring hind a-field, the shepherd

Guarding his flock, the lonely muleteer,

And all the crowd in village streets, stand still, And breathe a prayer unto the blessed Virgin! Hyp. Amen! amen! Not half a league from hence

The village lies. Vict. 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. [Exeunt. SCENE II-Public square in the village of Guadarama. The Ave Maria still tolling. A crowd of villagers, with their hats in their hands, as if in prayer. In front a group of Gipsies. The bell rings a merrier peal. A Gipsy dance. Enter PANCHO, followed by PEDRO CRESPO. Pancho. Make room, ye vagabonds and Gipsy thieves!

Make room for the Alcalde and for me!

Pedro C. Keep silence all! I have an edict here

From our most gracions lord the King of Spain,
Jerusalem, and the Canary Islands,
Which I shall publish in the market-place.
Open your ears and listen!

Enter the PADRE CURA at the door of his cot-
tage.
Padre Cura,
Good day! and, pray you, hear this edict read.

Padre C. Good day, and God be with you!
Pray, what is it?

Pedro P An act of banishment against the
Gipsies!
(Agitation and murmurs in the crowd.)
Pancho. Silence!

Pedro P. (reads.) "I hereby order and command,

That the Egyptian and Chaldean strangers.
Known by the name of Gipsies, shail henceforth
Be banished from the realm, 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 third, be slaves for iife to him who takes
them,

Or burnt as heretics. Signed I, the King."
Vile 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!

I thank you heartily.

Pray you sit down. Pedro P. (They seat themselves on a bench at the PADRE CURA'S door. Sound of guitars heard at a distance, approaching during the dialogue which follows.)

A very righteous judgment, as you say.
Now tell me, Padre Cura,-you know all
things.-

How came these Gipsies into Spain?
Padre C.

Why, look you; They came with Hercules 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-nor-
Pedro P. Good reasons-good, substantial rea-

sons 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!

Hyp. Good evening, gentlemen! Is this Guadarama?

Padre C. Yes, Guadarama, and good evening to

you.

Hup. We seek the Padre Cura of the village: And, judging from your dress and reverend mien. You must be he.

Padre C. I am. Pray, what's your pleasure? Hyp. We are poor students, travelling in vacation. You know this mark?

(Touching the wooden spoon in his hat-band) Padre C. (joyfully.) Ay, know it, and have worn it.

Pedro P. (aside.) Soup-eaters! by the mass' The worst of vagrants!

vant,

And there's no law against them. Sir, your ser[Exit Padre Cura,

Padre C. Your servant, Pedro Crespo. Hyp Froin the first moment I beheld your face, I said within myself, This is the man!' There is a certain something in your looks. A certain scholar-like and studious something,

said,

The shepherd boy that loved you was a clown,
And him you should not marry. Was it not?
Mart. (surprised.) How know you that?
Oh, I know more than that.
Hyp.
What a soft, little hand! And then they said,
A cavalier from court, handsome, and fall,
And rich, should come one day to marry you,
And you should be a lady. Was it not?
He has arrived, the handsome cavalier.
(Tries to kiss her. She runs off. Enter VICTORIAN
with a letter.)

Vict. The muleteer has come.
Hup.

Vict.

So soon? I found him

Sitting at supper by the tavern door,
And, from a pitcher that he held aloft
His whole arm's length, drinking the blood-red

wine.

Hyp. What news from Court? Vict. He brought this letter only.

O cursed perfidy! Why did I let

(Reads.)

That lying tongue deceive me? Preciosa,
Sweet Preciosa! how art thou avenged!
Hyp. What news is this that makes thy cheek
turn paie,

And thy hand tremble?

Vict.

Oh, most infamous! The Count of Lara is a damned villain! Hyp. That is no news, forsooth. Vict. Ile strove in vain To steal from me the jewel of my soul, The love of Preciosa. Not succeeding, He swore to be revenged; and set on foot A plot to ruin her, which has succeeded. She has been hissed and hooted from the stage, Her reputation stained by slanderous lies Too foul to speak of; and, once more a beggar, She roams a wanderer over God's green earth, Housing with Gipsies!

Hup.

To renew again The Age of Gold, and make the shepherd swains Desperate with love, like Gaspar Gil's Diana. Redit et Virgo!

Vict.

Dear Hypolito,

How have I wronged that meek, confiding

heart!

Chispa. Halloo! Don Fulano! Let us have horses, and quickly. Alas, poor Chispa! what a dog's life dost thou lead! I thought when I left my old master, Victorian, the student, to serve my new master Don Carlos, the gentleman. that I, too, should lead the life of a gentleman: should go to bed early, and get up late. For when the abbot plays cards, what can you expect of the friars? But, in running away from the thunder, I have run into the lightning. Here I am in hot chase after my master and his Gipsy girl. And a good beginning of the week it is, as he said who was hanged on Monday morning. Enter DON CARLOS.

Don C. Are not the horses ready yet? Chispa. I should think not, for the hostler seems to be asleep.

Ho! within there! Horses! horses! horses! (He knocks at the gate with his whip, and enter MOSQUITO, putting on his jacket.) Mosq. Pray, have a little patience. I am not à musket.

Chispa. Health and pistareens! I'm glad to see you come on dancing, Padre! Pray, what's the news?

Mosq. You cannot have fresh horses; because there are none.

Chispa. Cachiporra!

Throw that bone to another dog. Do I like your aunt? Mosq. No; she has a beard.

Chispa. Go to! go to!

Mosq. Are you from Madrid?

Chispa. Yes; and going to Estramadura. Get us horses.

Mosq. What's the news at Court?

Chispa. Why, the latest new is, that I am going to set up a coach, and I have already bought the whip.

(Strikes him round the legs.) Mosq. Oh! oh! you hurt me! Don C. Enough of this folly. Let us have horses. (Gives money to MOSQUITO.) It is almost dark; and we are in haste. But tell me, has a band of Gipsies passed this way of late? Mosq. Yes; and they are still in the neighbourhood.

Don C. And where?

Mosq. Across the fields yonder, in the woods near Guadarama. [Exit.

Don C. Now this is lucky. We will visit the Gipsy camp.

Chispa. Are you not afraid of the evil eye? Have you a stag's horn with you?

Don C. Fear нot. We will pass the night at the village.

Chispa. And sleep like the Squires of Hernan Daza, nine under one blanket.

Don C. I hope we may find the Preciosa among them.

Chispa. Among the Squires?

Don C No; among the Gipsies, blockhead! Chispa. I hope we may; for we are giving ourselves trouble enough on her account. Don't you think so? However, there is no catching tront without wetting one's trousers. Yonder come the horses.

[Exeunt.

SCENE V.-The Gipsy camp in the forest. Night. Gipsies working at a Forge. Others playing at Cards by the fire-light.

Gipsies (at the forge sing.)

On the top of a mountain I stand,
With a crown, of red-gold in my hand.
Wild Moors come trooping over the lea,

Oh, how from their fury shall I flee, flee, flec?
Oh, how from their fury shall I flee?
First Gipsy (playing). Down with your John-
Dorados, my pigeon. Down with your John-*
Dorados, and let us make an end.
Gipsies (at the forge sing.)

Loud sang the Spanish cavalier,
And thus his ditty ran
God send the Gipsy lassie here,
And not the Gipsy man.

First Gipsy (playing). There you are in your morocco. Second Gipsy. One more game. The Alcalde's dove against the Padre Cura's new moon. First Gipsy. Have at you, Chirelin. Gipsies (at the forge sing.)

At midnight, when the moon began
To show her silver flame,
There came to him no Gipsy man,
The Gipsy lassie came.

Enter BELTRAN CRUZADO. Cruz. Come hither, Murcigalleros and Rastilleros: leave work, leave play: listen to your orders for the night. (Speaking to the right.) You will get you to the village, mark you, by the

Gipsies. Ay!

Cruz. Keep your lanterns open, and, if you see a goblin or a papagayo, take to your trampers. "Vineyards and Dancing John is the word. Am I comprehended? Gipsies. Ay! ay! Cruz. Away, then!

[Exeunt severally. CRUZADO walks up the stage and disappears among the trees. Enter PRECIOSA.

Proc. How strangely gleams through the gi gantic trees

The red light of the forge! Wild, beckoning shadows

Stalk through the forest, ever and anon
Rising and bending with the flickering flame,
Then flitting into darkness! So within me
Strange hopes and fears do beckon to each
other,

My brightest hopes giving dark fears a being,