Ay, know it, and have worn it.

Padre C. (joyfully).
Pedro C. (aside). Soup-eaters! by the mass! The worst of
vagrants;

And there's no law against them. Sir, your servant. [Exit.
Padre C. Your servant, Pedro Crespo.

Hyp.

Padre Cura,

From 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,-
You understand,-which cannot be mistaken;
Which marks you as a very learned man,
In fine, as one of us.
Vict. (aside).

What impudence!

Hyp. As we approached, I said to my companion,
"That is the Padre Cura; mark my words!"
Meaning your Grace. "The other man," said I,
"Who sits so awkwardly upon the bench,

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
Was not so full of dignity and grace

As an alcalde's should be.

Padre C.

That is true.

He is out of humour with some vagrant Gipsies,
Who have their camp here in the neighbourhood.
There is nothing so undignified as anger.

Hyp. The Padre Cura will excuse our boldness,
If, from his well-known hospitality,

We crave a lodging for the night.

Padre C.

I pray you!

You do me honour! I am but too happy

To have such guests beneath my humble roof.
It is not often that I have occasion

To speak with scholars; and Emollit mores

Nec sinit esse feros, Cicero says.

Hyp. 'Tis Ovid, is it not?

Padre C.

No, Cicero.

Hyp. Your Grace is right. You are the better scholar.
Now, what a dunce was I to think it Ovid!

But hang me if it is not! (Aside.)

Padre C.

Pass this way.

[Exeunt.

He was a very great man, was Cicero!
Pray you go in, go in! no ceremony.

SCENE III.-A room in the PADRE CURA's house. Enter the PADRE

and HYPOLITO.

Padre C. So then,

Señor, you come from Alcalá.

I am glad to hear it. It was there I studied.

Hyp. And left behind an honoured name, no doubt. How may I call your Grace?

Padre C.

Gerónimo

De Santillana, at your Honour's service.

Hyp. Descended from the Marquis Santillana ? From the distinguished poet?

Padre C.

Not from the poet.

Нур.

From the Marquis,

Why, they were the same.

Let me embrace you! O some lucky star

Has brought me hither! Yet once more!-once more!
Your name is ever green in Alcalá,

And our professor, when we are unruly,
Will shake his hoary head and say,

It was not so in Santillana's time!"

"Alas!

Padre C. I did not think my name remembered there.
Hyp. More than remembered; it is idolized.
Padre C. Of what professor speak you?

Нур.

Timoneda.

Padre C. I don't remember any Timoneda.

Hyp. A grave and sombre man, whose beetling brow O'erhangs the rushing current of his speech

As rocks o'er rivers hang. Have you forgotten?

Padre C. Indeed, I have. Oh, those were pleasant days, Those college days! I ne'er shall see the like!

I had not buried then so many hopes!

I had not buried then so many friends!

I've turned my back on what was then before me; ̧
And the bright faces of my young companions

Are wrinkled like my own, or are no more.

Do you remember Cueva?

Hyp.

Cueva? Cueva?

Padre C. Fool that I am! He was before your time; You're a mere boy, and I am an old man.

Hyp. I should not like to try my strength with you. Padre C. Well, well. But I forget; you must be hungry. Martina! ho! Martina! 'Tis my niece.

(Enter MARTINA.)

Hyp. You may be proud of such a niece as that.

I wish I had a niece. Emollit mores.

He was a very great man, was Cicero!

Your servant, fair Martina.

Mart.

(A side.)

Servant, sir.

Padre C. This gentleman is hungry. See thou to it.

Let us have supper.

Mart.

"Twill be ready soon.

Padre C. And bring a bottle of my Val-de-Peñas Out of the cellar. Stay; I'll go myself.

Pray you, Señor, excuse me.

[Exit.

Hyp.

Hist! Martina! One word with you. Bless me! what handsome eyes! To-day there have been Gipsies in the village.

Is it not so?
Mart.

There have been Gipsies here.

Hyp. Yes, and they told your fortune.
Mart. (embarrassed).

Told my fortune? Hyp. Yes, yes; I know they did. Give me your hand. I'll tell you what they said. They said, they said, The shepherd boy that loved you was a clown, And him you should not marry. Was it not? Mart. (surprised). How know you that? Нур. What a soft little hand! And then they said, A cavalier from court, handsome and tall And rich, should come one day to marry you, And you should be a lady. Was it not? He has arrived, the handsome cavalier.

O, I know more than that.

(Tries to kiss her. She runs off. Enter VICTORIAN with a letter.)

Vict. The muleteer has come.

Hyp.
Vict.

So soon?

I found him

Sitting at supper by the tavern door,

And, from a pitcher that he held aloft

His whole arm's length, drinking the blood-red wine.
Hyp. What news from Court?

Vict.

He brought this letter only. (Reads.)

O cursed perfidy! Why did I let

That lying tongue deceive me? Preciosa,

Sweet Preciosa! how art thou avenged!

Hyp. What news is this, that makes thy cheek turn pale, And thy hand tremble?

Vict.

O, most infamous!

The Count of Lara is a damned villain!
Hyp. That is no news, forsooth.

Vict.

He 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!

To renew again

Hyp.
The Age of Gold, and make the shepherd swains
Desperate with love, like Gaspar Gil's Diana.
Redit et Virgo !

How have I wronged that meek, confiding heart!
I will go seek for her, and with my tears
Wash out the wrong I've done her!

O beware!

Ay, folly,

Delusion, madness, call it what thou wilt,

I will confess my weakness,-I still love her!
Still fondly love her!

Hyp.

(Enter the PADRE CURA.)

Tell us, Padre Cura,

Who are these Gipsies in the neighbourhood?
Padre C. Beltran Cruzado and his crew.
Vict.

Kind Heaven,

I thank thee! She is found! is found again!
Hyp. And have they with them a pale, beautiful girl,
Called Preciosa?

The gentleman seems moved.

Hyp.

Yes, moved with hunger,
He is half-famished with this long day's journey.
Padre C. Then, pray you, come this

way. The supper waits. [Exeunt.

SCENE IV.-A post-house on the road to Segovia, not far from the village of Guadarrama. Enter CHISPA, cracking a whip and singing the Cachucha.

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'm not a 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 look like your aunt?

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 news 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 But tell

to MOSQUITO.) It is almost dark; and we are in haste.
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 Guadarrama.

[Exit.

Don C. Now this is lucky. We will visit the Gipsy camp. Chispa. Are you not afraid of the evil eye?5 Have you a stag's horn with you?

Don C. Fear not. 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
enough on her account. Don't you think so?
o catching trout without wetting one's trousers.
horses.

ourselves trouble However, there is Yonder come the [Exeunt.

Gipsies working

SCENE V.-The Gipsy camp in the forest. Night.
at a forge. Others playing cards by the fire-light.

Gipsies (at the forge sing).

On the top of a mountain I stand,6
With a crown of red gold in my hand,
Wild Moors come trooping over the lea,
O how from their fury shall I flee, flee, flee?

O how from their fury shall I flee?

First Gipsy (playing). Down with your John-Dorados, my pigeon. Down with your John-Dorados, and let us make an end.

Gipsies (at the forge sing).

Loud sang the Spanish cavalier,
And thus his ditty ran;

God send the Gipsy lassie here,
And not the Gipsy man.

First Gipsy (playing). There you are in your morocco. Second Gipsy. One more game. The Alcalde's doves against the Padre Cura's new moon.