And told me how to win her, telling me Vict. Say, can you prove this to me? Oh, pluck out These awful doubts, that goad me into madness! Francisco? Fran. Lara. Ay, my lord. If further proof (Throws it upon the ground, and tramples upon it.) pain, Yet it has cured my blindness, and I thank you.' 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 SCENE VII.-A lane in the suburbs. Night. Enter Caught from my lips, with red and fiery tongue 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? 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 -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 (Drinks and dashes the goblet down. Scene closes.) Don J. Ite! missa est! Good night! Good night, beloved! 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). My sweet lady-love [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, (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! 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! To him who keeps most faith with thee. The falcon has the eyes of the dove. 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, 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. What wise man wrote it? Lopez Maldonado, With much truth in it, Vict. In truth, a pretty song. I hope thou wilt profit by it; and in carnest Vict, I will forget her! All dear recollections A voice within her will repeat my name. 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! more! To conquer love, one need but will to conquer. I throw into Oblivion's sea the sword There rises from below a hand that grasps it, Another voice. O villains! villains! Lara. Voice. Take that! Lara. Oh, I am wounded! Dol. (shutting the window.) Jesu Maria! Vict. And struggle after something we have not, All this the dead feel not,-the dead alone! Hyp. 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 Hyp. Vict. Has both his bruised and bleeding hands cut off, And sinks again into the weltering sea, 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! 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, Enter the PADRE CURA at the door of his cot- Padre C. Good day, and God be with you! Pedro P An act of banishment against the Pedro P. (reads.) "I hereby order and command, That the Egyptian and Chaldean strangers. Or burnt as heretics. Signed I, the King." 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. How came these Gipsies into Spain? Why, look you; They came with Hercules from Palestine, And hence are thieves and vagrants, Sir Alcalde, As the Simoniacs from Simon Magus. sons all! No matter for the other ninety-five. Enter VICTORIAN and HYPOLITO, playing. 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, Vict. The muleteer has come. Vict. So soon? I found him Sitting at supper by the tavern door, 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, 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, Oh, how from their fury shall I flee, flee, flec? Loud sang the Spanish cavalier, 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 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 My brightest hopes giving dark fears a being, |