THE SPANISH STUDENT. Nor thirst, nor hunger; but be comforted 223 Pre. Stay no longer! My father waits. Methinks I see him there, Now looking from the window, and now watching Each sound of wheels or foot-fall in the street, And saying," Hark! she comes!" O father! father! [They descend the pass. CHISPA remains behind.] Chis. I have a father, too, but he is a dead one. Alas and alack-a-day! Poor was I born, and poor do I remain. I neither win nor lose. Thus I wag through the world, half the time on foot, and the other half walking; and always as merry as a thunder-storm in the night. And so we plough along, as the fly said to the ox. Who knows what may happen? Patience, and shuffle the cards! I am not yet so bald, that you can see my brains; and perhaps, after all, I shall some day go to Rome, and come back Saint Peter. Benedicite! [Exit. [A pause. Bart. Then enter BARTOLOMÉ wildly, as if in pursuit, with a carbine in his hand.] They passed this way! I hear their horses hoofs ! Yonder I see them! Come, sweet caramillo, Ha ha! Well whistled, my sweet caramillo! Well whistled!--I have missed her!-O, my God! [The shot is returned. BARTOLOMÉ falls.] CARILLON. In the ancient town of Bruges, Then, with deep sonorous clangor But amid my broken slumbers |