SONG.

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.

Cruzado. They are not coming this way.
Bartolomé. 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.

Bartolomé. Woe be to him if he comes this way!
Cruzado. Be quiet, they are passing down the street
SONG (dying away).

Bartolomé.

Puss! puss!

The nuns in the cloister

Sang to each other;

For so many sisters

Is there not one brother?

Ay, for the partridge, mother!

The cat has run away with the partridge.

Puss! puss! puss!

Follow that! follow that! Come with me.

[Exeunt. (On the opposite 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 BARTOLOMÉ.) Bartolomé. 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 bed-chamber. Midnight. She is sleeping in
an arm-chair, in an undress. DOLORES watching her.
Dolores. She sleeps at last. (Opens the window, and listens.)
All silent in the street,
Hark!

And in the garden.

Preciosa (in her sleep). I must go hence !
Give me my cloak!

Dolores. He comes! I hear his footsteps!

Preciosa. Go tell them that I cannot dance to-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.
Dolores (from the window).

Voice (from below).

(Signal from the garden.)

Who's there?
A friend.

Dolores. I will undo the door. Wait till I come.
Preciosa. 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'm ready now,-give me my castanets.
Where is Victorian? Oh, those hateful lamps!
They glare upon me like an evil eye.

[wakes.)

I cannot stay. Hark! how they mock at me!
They hiss at me like serpents! Save me! save me! (She
How late is it, Dolores?

Dolores.

It is midnight.

Preciosa. We must be patient. Smooth this pillow for me. (She sleeps again. Noise from the garden, and voices.!

Voice. Muera!
Another Voice.

Lara.

Voice. Take that!

Lard.

O villains! villains!
So! have at you!

Oh, I am wounded!

Dolores (shutting the window).

ACT III.

Jesu Maria!

In the back

SCENE I.-A cross-road through a wood. ground a distant village spire. VICTORIAN and HYPO

LIT the

ކ

as travelling students, with guitars, sitting under HYPOLITO plays and sings.

rees.

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.

Forian. Yes, Love is ever busy with his shuttle,

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.

Hypolito. 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,

Thoras below and flowers above.
Ah, Love!

Perjured, false, treacherous Love!

Victorian. A very pretty song. I thank thee for it.

Hypolito. It suits thy case.

Victorian.

Indeed, I think it does.

I hope thou wilt profit by it, and in earnest

Try to forget this lady of thy love.

Victorian. 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!

Hypolito. Then let that foolish heart upbraid no more ; To conquer love, one need but will to conquer.

Victorian. 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

Of the bewildering masquerade of Life, Victorian. It cannot be too soon; for I am weary Where whispers overheard betray false hearts; Where strangers walk as friends, and friends as strangers Some form of loveliness, that smiles, and beckons, And through the mazes of the crowd we chase And cheats us with fair words, only to leave us Not knowing friend from foe. Hypolito.

kery and a jest; maddened, confused,

A mock

Enjoy

Take

Why seek to know?

the merry shrove-tide of thy youth! each fair mask for what it gives itself,

Nor strive to look beneath it.

That

Victorian.

I confess

Much like a poor and shipwrecked mariner,
Comforts my soul. I am a wretched man,

were the wiser part. But Hope no longer

Who

Has

And

struggling to climb up into the boat,
oth his bruised and bleeding hands cut off,
Sinks again into the weltering sea,

Helpless and hopeless!

Yolito.

Yet thou shalt not perish.

The strength of thine own arm is thy salvation.
Above thy head, through rifted clouds, there shines

Victorian.

A glorious star. Be patient. Trust thy star!
(Sound of a village-bell in the distance.)
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-street, stand still,
And breathe a prayer unto the blessed virgin!

Hypolito. Amen! amen! Not half a league from hence The village lies.

Victorian.

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.

SCENE II.

[Exeunt,

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 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 alclade and for me!

Pedro Crespo. Keep silence all! I have an edict here From our most gracious lord, the King of Spain, Jerusalem, and the Canary Islands,

Which I shal 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 Cura.

Pray, what is it?

Good day, and God be with you!

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

Pancho. Silence!

Pedro Crespo (reads). "I hereby order and command That the Egyptian and Chaldean strangers,

Known by the name of Gipsies, shall henceforth

Be banished from the realm as vagabonds