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Señora, pardon me!
Prec. How's this? Dolores!

Pardon me-


Lara. Be not alarmed; I found no one in waiting. If I have been too bold —

Prec. (turning her back upon him). You are too bold! Retire retire, and leave me!


My dear lady, First hear me! I beseech you, let me speak! "T is for your good I come.

Prec. (turning toward him with indignation).
Begone! begone!

You are the Count of Lara, but your deeds
Would make the statues of your ancestors
Blush on their tombs ! Is it Cast.lian honor,
Is it Castilian pride, to steal in here
Upon a friendless girl, to do her wrong?
O'shame! shame! shame! that you, a nobleman,
Should be so little noble in your thoughts
As to send jewels here to win my love,
And think to buy my honor with your gold!
I have no words to tell you how I scorn you!
Begone! The sight of you is hateful to me!
Begone, I say!

Lara. Be calm; I will not harm you.
Prec. Because you dare not.

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Let me but kiss your hand!


Nay, come no nearer.
The words I utter are its sign and token.
Misunderstand me not! Be not deceived!
The love wherewith 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 honor. 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 would take that from me, and for what?
To flatter your own vanity, and make me
What you would most despise. O sir, such love,
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.

First, what right have you
To question thus a nobleman of Spain?
Viet. I too am noble, and you are no more!
Out of my sight!


Are you the master here?
Vict. Ay, here and elsewhere, when the wrong
of others
Gives me the right!

Prec. (to LARA). Go! I beseech you, go!
Vict. I shall have business with you, Count,

Lara. You cannot come too soon! [Exit.
Ha ha! betrayed!
"T is I have been betrayed, not we!--not we!
Dost thou imagine-

O, we have been betrayed!

I imagine nothing;
I see how 't is thou whilest the time away

When I am gone!

O speak not in that tone!

'T was not meant to flatter. Too well thou knowest the presence of that man Is hateful to me!


In my casket.
Vict. There let it rest! I would not have thee
wear it:


It wounds me deeply.


I thought thee spotless, and thou art polluted!
Prec. I call the Heavens to witness-
Nay, nay, nay!
Take not the name of Heaven upon thy lips!
They are forsworn!

Victorian! dear Victorian!
Vict. I gave up all for thee; myself, my fame.
My hopes of fortune, ay, my very soul!
And thou hast been my ruin! Now, go on!
Laugh at my folly with thy paramour,
And, sitting on the Count of Lara's knee,
Say what a poor, fond fool Victorian was!

(He casts her from him and rushes out.)

Prec. And this from thee!

(Scene closes.)

I swear to you,
I would not harm you; I would only love you.
I would not take your honor, 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, O let me thus
With this embrace-

Vict. (Rushing forward.) Hold! hold! This He will be present.
is too much.
What means this outrage?

SCENE V.-The COUNT OF LARA's rooms. Enter the COUNT.

Lara. There's nothing in this world so sweet
as love,

And next to love the sweetest thing is hate!
I've learned to hate, and therefore am
A silly girl to play the prude with me!
The fire that I have kindled-



Well, Francisco,

Good, my lord;
And the Duke of Lermos?
Fran. Was not at home.
How with the rest?
I 've found
The men you wanted. They will all be there,
And at the given signal raise a whirlwind
Of such discordant noises, that the dance
Must cease for lack of music.


What tidings from Don Juan?

Bravely done.
Ah! little dost thou dream, sweet Preciosa,
What lies in wait for thee. Sleep shall not close
Thine eyes this night! Give me my cloak and
SCENE VI.-A retired spot beyond the city gates.

Vict. O shame! O shame! Why do I walk abroad

By daylight, when the very sunshine mocks me,
And voices, and familiar sights and sounds
Cry, "Hide thyself!" O what a thin partition
Doth shut out from the curious world the knowl-

Of evil deeds that have been done in darkness!
Disgrace has many tongues. My fears are win-
Through which all eyes seem gazing. Every face
Yet I saw thee stand Expresses some suspicion of my shame,
And listen to him, when he told his love.
And in derision seems to smile at me!
Pree. I did not heed his words,
Hyp. Did I not caution thee? Did I not tell
Indeed thou didst,
And answeredst them with love.
Hadst thou heard all-
Vict. I heard enough.
Be not so angry with me.
Vict. I am not angry; I am very calm.
Pree. If thou wilt let me speak-

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 does not love him! "T is for gold!
for gold!

Nay, say no more.
I know too much already. Thou art false!
I do not like these Gypsy marriages!
Where is the ring I gave thee?

Hyp. Ay, but remember, in the public streets
He shows a golden ring the Gypsy gave him,
A serpent with a ruby in its mouth.

Vict. She had that ring from me! God! she (Throws it upon the ground, and tramples upon is false !


But I will be revenged! The hour is passed.
Where stays the coward?

Nay, he is no coward;
A villain, if thou wilt, but not a coward.
I've seen him play with swords; it is his pastime.
And therefore be not over-confident,
He'll task thy skill anon Look, here he comes.

(Enter LARA followed by FRANCISCO.)

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I do entreat thee, dear Hypolito,
Stand not between me and my foe. Too long
Our tongues have spoken. Let these tongues of


End our debate. Upon your guard, Sir Count.

(They fight. VICTORIAN disarms the COUNT.) Your life is mine; and what shall now withhold


From sending your vile soul to its account?
Lara. Strike! strike!

You are disarmed.

I will not kill you.
I will not murder you. Take up your sword.
(FRANCISCO hands the COUNT his sword, and
HYPOLITO interposes.)

Hyp. Enough! Let it end here! The Count
of Lara

Has shown himself a brave man, and Victorian
A generous one as ever. Now be friends.
Put up your swords; for, to speak frankly to you,
Your cause of quarrel is too slight a thing
To move you to extremes.


I am content.
I sought no quarrel. A few hasty words,
Spoken in the heat of blood, have led to this.
Vict. Nay, something more than that.
I understand you.
Therein I did not mean to cross your path.
To me the door stood open, as to others.
But, had I known the girl belonged to you,
Never would I have sought to win her from you.
The truth stands now revealed; she has been
To both of us.


Ay, false as hell itself!
Lara. In truth, I did not seek her; she sought

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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

Yet it has cured my blindness, and I thank you.
I now can see the folly I have done,
Though 't is alas! too late. So fare you well!
To-night I leave this hateful town forever.
Regard me as your friend. Once more farewell'
Hyp. Farewell, Sir Count.


Farewell! farewell! farewell!

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.
SCENE VII.-A lane in the suburbs. Night.

Cruz. And so, Bartolomé, the expedition
failed. But where wast thou for the most part?
Bart. In the Guadarrama mountains,
San Ildefonso.


Cruz. And thou bringest nothing back with thee? Didst thou rob no one?


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

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

Bart. And she brings me back. Hast 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 Busné lover.

That is nothing.

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


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Bart. Follow that! follow that! Come with Puss! puss! (Exennt. On the opposite side enter the COUNT OF LARA and gentlemen, with FRANCISCO. Over the wall, Fran

Lara. The gate is fast.

cisco, 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.

(Ex unt. Re-enter CRUZADO and BARTOLOMÉ.)

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.)

SCENE XI-PRECIOSA's bedchamber. Midnight. She is sleeping in an arm-chair, in an undress. DOLORES watching her.

Dol. She sleeps at last!

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(Signal from the Dol. (from the window). Voice (from below), Dol. I will undo the door. Prec. I must go hence. harm me! Shame! shame! to treat a feeble woman thus! Be you but kind, I will do all things for you. I'm 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!


Who's there?
A friend.

Wait till I come.
I pray you do not

(She wakes.)

How late is it, Dolores?

It is midnight.

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

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

Voice. Muera!

Another Voice. O villains! villains!

So! have at you!

Voice. Take that!
O, I am wounded!
Dol. (shutting the window). Jesu Maria!


SCENE I-A cross-road through a wood. In the background a distant village spire. VICTORIAN and HYPOLITO, as travelling stulents, with guitars, sitting under the trees. HYPOLITO plays and sings


Ah, Love!

Perjured, false, treacherous Love!


Of all that mankind may not rue! Most untrue

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

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

Perjured, false, treacherous Love!

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

Hyp. Thinking to walk in those Arcadian 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.

Lopez Maldonado.

What wise man wrote it?
Vict. In truth, a pretty song.
With much truth in it.
I hope thou wilt profit by it; and in earnest
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!"
O, would I were a soldier, not a scholar,
That the loud march, the deafening beat of drums,
The shattering blast of the brass-throated trum-

The din of arms, the onslaught and the storm, And a swift death, might make me deaf forever To the upbraidings of this foolish heart!

Hyp. Then let that foolish heart upbraid no more!

To conquer love, one need but will to conquer.
Vict. Yet, good Hypolito, it is in vain

I throw into Oblivion's sea the sword
That pierces me; for, like Excalibar.

With gemmed and flashing hilt, it will not sink.
There rises from below a hand that grasps it,
And waves it in the air; and wailing voices
Are heard along the shore.

Hyp. And yet at last Down sank Excalibar to rise no more. This is not well. In truth, it vexes me. Instead of whistling to the steeds of Time, To make them jog on merrily with life's burden, Like a dead weight thou hangest on the wheels.

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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.


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!

Yet thou shalt not perish.
The strength of thine own arm is thy salvation.
Above thy head, though rifted clouds, there

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 laboring 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
The village lies.

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 Guadarrama. The Ave Maria still tolling. A crowd of villagers, with their hats in their hands, as if in prayer. In front, a group of Gypsies. The bell rings a merrier peal. A Gypsy dance. Enter PANCHо, followed by


Pancho. Make room, ye vagabonds and Gypsy thieves!

Make room for the Alcalde and for me!

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.)

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