Bart. Ay, and I've wandered long Among the mountains; and for many days Have seen no human face, save the rough swineherd's. The wind and rain have been my sole companions. I shouted to them from the rocks thy name, And the loud echo sent it back to me, Till I grew mad. I could not stay from thee, Bart. Preciosa! I come for thee! for thee I thus brave death! Pre. Speak of that no more. I cannot. I am thine no longer. Bart. O, recall the time When we were children! how we played together, I am hunted from the kingdom, like a wolf! Pre. 'Twas my father's promise, False tongue of woman! Not mine. I never gave my heart to thee, Bart. And heart more false ! Pre. I will speak frankly. Nay, listen unto me. I have never loved thee; It is my destiny. Thou art a man Restless and violent. What wouldst thou with me, A feeble girl, who have not long to live, Whose heart is broken? Seek another wife, Better than I, and fairer; and let not Thy rash and headlong moods estrange her from thee. Thou art unhappy in this hopeless passion. To make thee love me. Yet I pity thee, That hurries thee to crimes and deeds of blood. Bart. For thy dear sake, I will be gentle. Thou shalt teach me patience. Bart. Come, come with me. Pre. Hark! I hear footsteps. Pre. Away! It is in vain. Pre. Never! Bart. I entreat thee, come! Wilt thou not come? Then woe, eternal woe, upon thee. Thou shalt not be another's. Thou shalt die. [Exit. Pre. All holy angels keep me in this hour! Spirit of her who bore me, look upon me! Mother of God, the glorified, protect me! Christ and the saints, be merciful unto me! Yet why should I fear death? What is it to die? To leave all disappointment, care, and sorrow, To leave all falsehood, treachery, and unkindness, All ignominy, suffering, and despair, And be at rest for ever! O, dull heart, Be of good cheer! When thou shalt cease to beat, Then shalt thou cease to suffer and complain! [Enter VICTORIAN and HYPOLITO behind.] Vict. 'Tis she! Behold, how beautiful she stands Under the tent-like trees! Hyp. A woodland nymph! Vict. I pray thee, stand aside. Leave me. Hyp. Do not betray thyself too soon. Vict. [disguising his voice]. Hist! Gipsy! Be wary. Pre. [aside, with emotion]. That voice! that voice from heaven! O speak again! Who is it calls? Pre. [aside]. "Tis he! "Tis he! I thank thee, Heaven, that thou hast heard my prayer, And sent me this protector! Now be strong, Vict. Fear not; come hither. A true friend to the true. So; can you tell fortunes? Give me your hand. It is not crossed, I see. Pre. Vict. Is't silver? No, 'tis gold. Pre. There's a fair lady at the Court, who loves Tell me a better fortune for my money; Fie! the old story! You are passionate; Pre. Shame! shame! O you have wronged the maid who loved you! How could you do it? Vict. For she I loved was then a maid no more. Pre. How know you that? Vict. Whispered the secret. Pre. I never loved a maid; A little bird in the air There, take back your gold. Your hand is cold, like a deceiver's hand! There is no blessing in its charity! Make her your wife, for you have been abused; And you shall mend your fortunes, mending hers. Vict. [aside]. How like an angel's speaks the tongue of woman, When pleading in another's cause her own Why, 'tis but a ring. I'll give it back to you; or, if I keep it, A whim, and nothing more. A traveller's fancy, I would fain keep it As a memento of the Gipsy camp In Guadarrama, and the fortune-teller Pre. 'Tis a token Of a beloved friend, who is no more. Vict. How? dead? Pre. Yes; dead to me; and worse than dead. Το prove to him that I was never false. Vict. [aside]. Be still, my swelling heart! one moment, still! Why, 'tis the folly of a love-sick girl. Come, give it me, or I will say 'tis mine, And that you stole it. Pre. O, you will not dare Not dare? To utter such a fiendish lie! Vict. Look in my face, and say if there is aught I have not dared, I would not dare for thee ! [She rushes into his arms.] Pre. 'Tis thou! 'tis thou! Yes; yes; my heart's elected ! My dearest-dear Victorian! my soul's heaven! Where hast thou been so long? Why didst thou leave me? Vict. Ask me not now, my dearest Preciosa. Vict. I pray thee, do not chide me! Pre. I should have perished here among these Gipsies. Vict. Forgive me, sweet! for what I made thee suffer. Think'st thou this heart could feel a moment's joy, Indeed, since that sad hour I have not slept, Dost thou forgive me? Say, wilt thou forgive me? Pre. I have forgiven thee. Ere those words of anger Were in the book of Heaven writ down against thee, I had forgiven thee. Vict. I'm the veriest fool That walks the earth, to have believed thee false. It was the Count of Lara Pre. Has worked me harm enough. heard That bad man Hast thou not Vict. I have heard all. And yet speak on, speak on! Let me but hear thy voice, and I am happy; Hyp. All gentle quarrels in the pastoral poets, All passionate love scenes in the best romances, All chaste embraces on the public stage, All soft adventures, which the liberal stars Pre. Señor Hypolito! I kiss your hand. |