SERENADE Stars of the summer night! Moon of the summer night! My lady sleeps! Wind of the summer night! Where yonder woodbine creeps. Dreams of the summer night! (Enter VICTORIAN by the balcony.) Vict. Poor little dove! Thou tremblest like a leaf! Prec. I am so frightened! "Tis for thee I tremble! I hate to have thee climb that wall by night! Did no one see thee? Vict. I chide myself for letting thee come here Thus stealthily by night. Where hast thou been? Since yesterday I have no news from thee. Vict. Since yesterday I have been in Alcalá. Prec. That were a life to make time envious ! I knew that thou wouldst come to me tonight. I saw thee at the play. Vict. Sweet child of air! Never did I behold thee so attired And garmented in beauty as to-night! What hast thou done to make thee look so fair? Prec. Am I not always fair? Vict. Ay, and so fair That I am jealous of all eyes that see thee, And wish that they were blind. Prec. I heed them not; When thou art present, I see none but thee ! Vict. There's nothing fair nor beautiful, but takes Something from thee, that makes it beautiful. Prec. And yet thou leavest me for those dusty books. blossomed trees Filled all the air with fragrance and with joy. The priests were singing, and the organ sounded, And then anon the great cathedral bell. Vict. Thou comest between me and those It was the elevation of the Host. And from below comes a scarce audible sound, So fall our thoughts into the dark Hereafter, And their mysterious echo reaches us. Prec. I have felt it so, but found no words to say it! I cannot reason; I can only feel! But thou hast language for all thoughts and feelings. Thou art a scholar; and sometimes I think I must not hold thee back. Is her affections, not her intellect ! What am I? Why, a pygmy among giants! But if thou lovest, lovest, mark me! I say The greatest of thy sex excels thee not! The world of the affections is thy world, Not that of man's ambition. In that still ness Which most becomes a woman, calm and holy, Thou sittest by the fireside of the heart, But burns as brightly in a Gypsy camp But not that I am worthy of that heaven. Vict. Loving more. Prec. I cannot love thee more; my heart is full. Vict. Then let it overflow, and I will drink it, As in the summer-time the thirsty sands Drink the swift waters of the Manzanares, And still do thirst for more. A Watchman (in the street). Ave Maria Purissima! 'Tis midnight and serene! Vict. Hear'st thou that cry? The heart pure, and, if laid beneath the pillow, Drives away evil dreams. But then, alas! It was a serpent tempted Eve to sin. Vict. What convent of barefooted Carmelites Taught thee so much theology? Prec. (laying her hand upon his mouth). Hush! hush! Good night! and may all holy angels guard thee! Vict. Good night! good night! Thou art my guardian angel! I have no other saint than thou to pray to! (He descends by the balcony.) Prec. Take care, and do not hurt thee. Art thou safe? Vict. (from the garden). Safe as my love for thee! But art thou safe? Others can climb a balcony by moonlight As well as I. Pray shut thy window close; I am jealous of the perfumed air of night That from this garden climbs to kiss thy lips. Prec. (throwing down her handkerchief). Thou silly child! Take this to blind thine eyes. It is my benison! Vict. And brings to me Sweet fragrance from thy lips, as the soft wind Wafts to the out-bound mariner the breath Vict. To-morrow night SCENE IV. An inn on the road to Alcalá. BALTASAR asleep on a bench. Enter CHISPA. Chispa. And here we are, half-way to Alcalá, between cocks and midnight. Body o' me! what an inn this is! The lights out, and the landlord asleep. Holá! ancient Baltasar ! Bal. (waking). Here I am. Chispa. Yes, there you are, like a oneeyed Alcalde in a town without inhabitants. Bring a light, and let me have supper. Bal. Where is your master? Chispa. Do not trouble yourself about him. We have stopped a moment to breathe our horses; and if he chooses to walk up and down in the open air, looking into the sky as one who hears it rain, that does not satisfy my hunger, you know. But be quick, for I am in a hurry, and every man stretches his legs according to the length of his coverlet. What have we here? Bal. (setting a light on the table). rabbit. Stewed Chispa (eating). Conscience of Portalegre! Stewed kitten, you mean ! Bal. And a pitcher of Pedro Ximenes, with a roasted pear in it. Chispa (drinking). Ancient Baltasar, amigo! You know how to cry wine and sell vinegar. I tell you this is nothing but Vinto Tinto of La Mancha, with a tang of the swine-skin. Bal. I swear to you by Saint Simon and Judas, it is all as I say. Chispa. And I swear to you by Saint Peter and Saint Paul, that it is no such thing. Moreover, your supper is like the hidalgo's dinner, very little meat and a great deal of tablecloth. Bal. Ha ha! ha! Chispa. And more noise than nuts. Bal. Ha! ba! ha! You must have your joke, Master Chispa. But shall I not ask Don Victorian in, to take a draught of the Pedro Ximenes ? Chispa. No; you might as well say, "Don't-you-want-some? to a dead man. Bal. Why does he go so often to Madrid? Chispa. For the same reason that he eats no supper. He is in love. Were you ever in love, Baltasar ? Bal. I was never out of it, good Chispa. It has been the torment of my life. Chispa. What are you on fire, too, old haystack? Why, we shall never be able to put you out. Vict. (without). Chispa! Chispa. Go to bed, Pero Grullo, for the cocks are crowing. Vict. Ea! Chispa! Chispa! ancient Baltasar, and bring water for the horses. I will pay for the supper to[Exeunt. morrow. SCENE V. VICTORIAN'S chambers at Alcalá. HYPOLITO asleep in an arm-chair. He awakes slowly. Hyp. I must have been asleep! ay, sound asleep! And it was all a dream. O sleep, sweet sleep! Whatever form thou takest, thou art fair, Where can Victorian be? Like Fray Carrillo, The only place in which one cannot find him Is his own cell. Here's his guitar, that seldom Feels the caresses of its master's hand. Open thy silent lips, sweet instrument! And make dull midnight merry with a song. (He plays and sings.) Padre Francisco! Padre Francisco! What do you want of Padre Francisco ? (Enter VICTORIAN.) Vict. Padre Hypolito! Padre Hypolito! Hyp. What do you want of Padre Hypolito? Vict. Come, shrive me straight; for, if love be a sin, In Alcalá. Vict. Oh pardon me, my friend, If I so long have kept this secret from thee ; But silence is the charm that guards such treasures, And, if a word be spoken ere the time, They sink again, they were not meant for us. Hyp. Alas! alas! I see thou art in love. Love keeps the cold out better than a cloak. It serves for food and raiment. Give a Spaniard His mass, his olla, and his Doña Luisa Thou knowest the proverb. But pray tell me, lover, How speeds thy wooing? Is the maiden coy? Write her a song, beginning with an Ave; Ave! cujus calcem clare |