VICTORIAN. Nay, like the Sibyl's volumes, thou shouldst say; Dance the Romalis in the market-place? Thou meanest Preciosa. HYPOLITO. VICTORIAN. Ay, the same. Thou knowest how her image haunted me She's in Madrid. HYPOLITO. I know it. VICTORIAN. And I'm in love. HYPOLITO. And therefore in Madrid when thou shouldst be In Alcalá. VICTORIAN. O 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. HYPOLITO. Alas! alas! I see thou art in love. Love keeps the cold out better than a cloak. lover, It serves for food and raiment. Give a Spaniard Ave! cujus calcem clare VICTORIAN. Pray, do not jest! This is no time for it! I am in earnest! HYPOLITO. Seriously enamored? What, ho! The Primus of great Alcalá Enamored of a Gipsy? Tell me frankly, She was betrothed to one Bartolomé, If I remember rightly, a young Gipsy The angels sang in heaven when she was born! HYPOLITO. If thou wear'st nothing else upon thy forehead, "T will be indeed a wonder. VICTORIAN. Out upon thee, With thy unseasonable jests! Pray, tell me, Is there no virtue in the world? HYPOLITO. Not much. What, think'st thou, is she doing at this moment; VICTORIAN. She lies asleep, And, from her parted lips, her gentle breath O, would I had the old magician's glass And wouldst thou venture? HYPOLITO. VICTORIAN. Ay, indeed I would! HYPOLITO. Thou art courageous. Hast thou e'er reflected VICTORIAN. Yes; all the awful mystery of Life! I oft have thought, my dear Hypolito, That could we, by some spell of magic, change The world and its inhabitants to stone, What fearful glances downward might we cast What groups should we behold about the death-bed, What joyful welcomes, and what sad farewells! HYPOLITO. Ay, there it is! and, if I were in love, That is the very point I most should dread. This magic glass, these magic spells of thine, For instance, they might show us thy fair cousin, Of love and anger, like the maid of Colchis, Having won that golden fleece, a woman's love, VICTORIAN. She cares not for me. She Hold thy peace! may wed another, Or go into a convent, and, thus dying, Marry Achilles in the Elysian Fields. HYPOLITO (rising). And so, good night! Good morning, I should say. (Clock strikes three.) Hark! how the loud and ponderous mace of Time Knocks at the golden portals of the day! And so, once more, good night! We'll speak more largely Of Preciosa when we meet again. Get thee to bed, and the magician, Sleep, [Exit. VICTORIAN. Good night! But not to bed; for I must read awhile. (Throws himself into the arm-chair which HYPOLITO hus left, and lays a large book open upon his knees.) Must read, or sit in reverie and watch Visions of Fame! that once did visit me, Making night glorious with your smile, where are ye? O, who shall give me, now that ye are gone, Juices of those immortal plants that bloom Or teach me where that wondrous mandrake grows |