(She sleeps again. Noise from the garden, and voices.) Another Voice. O villains! villains! SCENE I.-A cross-road through a wood. In the background a distant village spire. VICTORIAN and HYPOLITO, as travelling students, with guitars, sitting under the trees. HYPOLITO plays and sings. SONG. Ah, Love! Perjured, false, treacherous Love! Of all that mankind may not rue 1 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; With tapestries, that make its walls dilate In never-ending vistas of delight. Hyp. Thinking to walk in those Arcadian pastures, SONG (continued). Thy deceits Give us clearly to comprehend, 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. What wise man wrote it? Hyp. Indeed, I think it does. Lopez Maldonado. With much truth in it. Vict. In truth, a pretty song. I hope thou wilt profit by it; and in earnest Vict. I will forget her! All dear recollections A voice within her will repeat my name, Hyp. Then let that foolish heart upbraid no more! I throw into Oblivion's sea the sword With gemmed and flashing hilt, it will not sink, Hyp. And yet at last Down sank Excalibar to rise no more. Vict. Yet I fain would die! To go through life, unloving and unloved; To feel that thirst and hunger of the soul We cannot still; 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, 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 Why seek to know? Hyp. Vict. I confess Much like a poor and shipwrecked mariner, Has both his bruised and bleeding hands cut off, Hyp. Yet thou shalt not perish. The strength of thine own arm is thy salvation. A glorious star. Be patient. Trust thy star! And bids the labouring hind a-field, the shepherd, 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 Vict. This path will lead us to it, [Exeunt. SCENE II.-Public square in the village of Guadarrama. The Ave Maria still telling. 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! Pedro C. Keep silence all! I have an edict here From our most gracious 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 cottage.) Padre Cura, Good day, and pray you, hear this edict read. Padre C. Good day, and God be with you. Pray what is it? (Agitation and murmurs in the crowd.) Pancho. Silence! Pedro C. (reads). "I hereby order and command, The second time, shall have their ears cut off; Vile miscreants and creatures unbaptized! You hear the law! Obey and disappear! Pancho. And if in seventy days you are 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 C. I thank you heartily. (They seat themselves on a bench at the PADRE CURA's door. Sounds 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,— Padre C. Why, look you ; They came with Hercules from Palestine, And look you, as Fray Jayme Bleda says, 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 C. Good reasons, good, substantial reasons all! They should be burnt, I see it plain enough, They should be burnt. (Enter VICTORIAN and HYPOLITO playing.) And pray whom have we here? And, judging from your dress and reverend mien, You must be he. Padre C. (Touching the wooden spoon in his hat-band.) Padre C. (joyfully). Ay, know it, and have worn it. Pedro C. (aside). Soup-eaters! by the mass! The worst of vagrants; And there's no law against them. Sir, your servant. [Exit. From the first moment I beheld your face, Padre Cura, There is a certain something in your looks, In fine, as one of us. Vict. (aside). What impudence! Hyp. As we approached, I said to my companion, Must be the sacristan." Padre C. Ah! said you so? Why, that was Pedro Crespo, the alcalde! Hyp. Indeed! you much astonish me! His air As an alcalde's should be. Padre C. That is true. He is out of humour with some vagrant Gipsies, Hyp. The Padre Cura will excuse our boldness, We crave a lodging for the night. Padre C. I pray you! To have such guests beneath my humble roof. To speak with scholars; and Emollit mores Hyp. 'Tis Ovid, is it not? Hyp. Your Grace is right. No, Cicero. You are the better scholar. Now, what a dunce was I to think it Ovid! Padre C. Pass this way. [Exeunt. He was a very great man, was Cicero ! SCENE III.A room in the PADRE CURA's house. PADRE and HYPOLITO. Padre C. So then, Señor, you come from Alcalá. Enter the I am glad to hear it. It was there I studied. Padre C. Gerónimo De Santillana, at your Honour's service. Hyp. Descended from the Marquis Santillana? Padre C. From the Marquis, Why, they were the same. Let me embrace you! O some lucky star |