VICTORIAN.

I must away to Alcalá to-night.

Think of me when I am away.

PRECIOSA.

Fear not!

I have no thoughts that do not think of thee.

VICTORIAN (giving her a ring).
And to remind thee of my love, take this;
A serpent, emblem of Eternity;

A ruby, say, a drop of my heart's blood.

PRECIOSA.

It is an ancient saying, that the ruby

Brings gladness to the wearer, and preserves
The heart pure, and, if laid beneath the pillow,
Drives away evil dreams. But then, alas!
It was a serpent tempted Eve to sin.

VICTORIAN.

What convent of barefooted Carmelites

Taught thee so much theology?

PRECIOSA (laying her hand upon his mouth).

Hush! Hush!

Good night! and may all holy angels guard thee!

VICTORIAN.

Good night! good night! Thou art my guardian angel! I have no other saint than thou to pray to!

(He descends by the balcony.)

PRECIOSA.

Take care, and do not hurt thee. Art thou safe?

VICTORIAN (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.

PRECIOSA (throwing down her handkerchief).
Thou silly child! Take this to blind thine eyes.
It is my benison!

VICTORIAN.

And brings to me

Sweet fragrance from thy lips, as the soft wind
Wafts to the out-bound mariner the breath
Of the beloved land he leaves behind.

Make not thy voyage long.

Shall see me safe returned.

PRECIOSA.

VICTORIAN.

To-morrow night

Thou art the star

To guide me to an anchorage. Good night!
My beauteous star! My star of love, good night!

Good night!

PRECIOSA.

WATCHMAN (at a distance).
Ave Maria Purissima!

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!

Here I am.

BALTASAR (waking).

CHISPA.

Yes, there you are, like a one-eyed Alcalde in a town without inhabitants. Bring a light, and let me have supper.

Where is your master?

BALTASAR.

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?

BALTASAR (setting a light on the table).

Stewed rabbit.

CHISPA (eating).

Conscience of Portalegre! Stewed kitten, you mean!

BALTASAR.

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 Vino Tinto of La Mancha, with a tang of the swine-skin.

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 table-cloth.

Ha! ha! ha!

BALTASAR.

CHISPA.

And more noise than nuts.

BALTASAR.

Ha! ha! 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.

BALTASAR.

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?

BALTASAR.

I was never out of it, good Chispa. It has been the torment of my life.

CHISPA.

What! are you on fire, too, old hay-stack? Why, we shall never be able to put you out.

Chispa!

VICTORIAN (without).

CHISPA.

Go to bed, Pero Grullo, for the cocks are crowing.

Ea! Chispa! Chispa!

VICTORIAN.

CHISPA.

Ea! Señor. Come with me, ancient Baltasar, and bring water for the horses. I will pay for the supper, to-morrow.

[Exeunt.

SCENE V.

VICTORIAN'S chambers at Alcalá. HYPOLITO asleep in an arm

chair. He awakes slowly.

HYPOLITO.

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,
Holding unto our lips thy goblet filled
Out of Oblivion's well, a healing draught!
The candles have burned low; it must be late.
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?

Here is a pretty young maiden
Who wants to confess her sins.

Open the door and let her come in,
I will shrive her from every sin.

(Enter VICTORIAN.)

VICTORIAN.

Padre Hypolito! Padre Hypolito!

HYPOLITO.

What do you want of Padre Hypolito?

VICTORIAN.

Come, shrive me straight; for, if love be a sin,
I am the greatest sinner that doth live.
I will confess the sweetest of all crimes,
A maiden wooed and won.

HYPOLITO.

The same old tale

Of the old woman in the chimney corner,

Who, while the pot boils, says, "Come here, my child; I'll tell thee a story of my wedding-day."

VICTORIAN.

Nay, listen, for my heart is full; so full

That I must speak.

HYPOLITO.

Alas! that heart of thine

Is like a scene in the old play; the curtain
Rises to solemn music, and lo! enter
The eleven thousand virgins of Cologne!
Longfellow. I.

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