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Is this the road to Segovia? .
It is, your reverence.
How far is it?
I do not know.
What is that yonder in the valley?
San Ildefonso.
A long way to breakfast.
Ay, marry.
Are there robbers in these mountains?
Yes, and worse than that.

Santa Maria! Come with me to San Ildefonso, and thou shalt be well rewarded. SHEPHERD. What wilt thou give me? MONK. An Agnus Dei and my benediction. ~ (They disappear. A mounted Contrabandista passes, wrapped in his cloak, and a gun at his saddle-bow. He goes down the pass singing.)

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(Song dies away. Enter PRECIOSA, on horseback, attended by VICTORIAN, HYPOLITO, DON CARLOS, and CHISPA, on foot, and armed.) '


This is the highest point. Here let us rest.

See, Preciosa, see how all about us

Kneeling, like hooded friars, the misty mountains

Receive the benediction of the sun!

0 glorious sight!
Most beautiful indeed!
Most wonderful!

And in the vale below,
\Vhere yonder steeples flash like lifted halberds,
San Ildefonso, from its noisy belfries,
Sends up a salutation to the morn,
As if an army smote their brazen shields,

And shouted Victory!
And which way lies
Segovia? \
At a great distance yonder.
Dost thou not see it?

No. I do not see it.

The merest flaw that dents the horizon’s edge.
There , yonder!

’T is a notable old town,

Boasting an ancient Roman aqueduct ,
And an Alcazar, builded by the Moors,
Wherein, you may remember, poor Gil Blas
Was fed on Pan del Rey. 0, many a time}
Out of its grated windows have I looked
Hundreds of feet plumb down to the Eresma,
That, like a serpent through the valley creeping,
Glides at its foot. '


0, yes! I see it now, >

Yet rather with my heart , than with mine eyes,
So faint it is. And, all my thoughts sail thither,
Freighted with prayers and hopes , and forward urged
Against all stress of accident, as, in
The Eastern Tale, against the wind and tide,
Great ships were drawn to the Magnetic Mountains,
And there were wrecked, and perished in the sea! I
( She weeps.)

O gentle spirit! Thou didst bear unmoved
Blasts of adversity and frosts of fate!
But the first ray of sunshine that falls on thee
Melts thee to tears! 0, let thy weary heart
Lean upon mine! and it shall faint no more ,
Nor thirst, nor hunger; but be comforted
And filled with my afi'eotion.

Stay no longer!
My father waits. Methinks I see him there ,
Now looking from the window, and now watching

Each sound of wheels or foot-fall in the street,
And saying, “Hark! she comes!” 0 father! father!

(They descend the pass. CIIISPA remains behind.)


I have a father, too, but he is a dead one. Alas and alack-a-day! Poor was I born, and poor do I remain. I neither win nor lose. Thus I wag through the world, halfthe time on foot, and the other half walking; and always as merry as a thunder-storm in the night. And so we plough along, as the fly said to the ox. \Vho knows what may happen? Patience, and shufile the cards! I am not yet so bald, that you can see my brains; and perhaps, afler all, I shall some day go to Rome, and come back Saint Peter. Benedicite! [Em]. (A pause. Then enter BARTOLOMIZ wildly, as if in pursuit, with

a carbine in his hand.)

They passed this way! I hear their horses hoofs!
Yonder I see them! Come, sweet caramillo,
This serenade shall be the Gipsy’s last!
(Fires down the pass.)
Ha! ha! Well whistled, my sweet caramillo!
Well whistled! — I have missed her! — O , my God!

(The shot is returned. BARTOLOMI-E fails.)


Page 128. As Lope says.
‘ “La cólera
de un Espanol sentado no se temple,
sino le representan en dos horas
hasta. el final juicio desde el Génesis." _
Lope de Vega. ,

Page 132. Abernuncio Satanas.

“Digo, Señora, respondió Sancho, lo que tengo dicho, que de los azotes abemuncio. Abrenuncio, habeis de decir, Sancho, y no como decís, dijo el Duque.“ -— Don Quixote, Part IL, ch. 35.

Page 144. Fray Carrillo.
The allusion here is to a Spanish Epigram.
“Siempre Fray Carrillo estás
cansándonos acá fuera;
quien en tu celda estuviera. e

para no verte jamas ! "
l Bóhl de Faber. Floresta, No. 611.

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Che si vuole confessari ' Fatte 1' entrare , fatte 1‘ entrare! Che la voglio confessare." Kopzsch. Volksthümliche Poesien aus allen Mund— arten Italiens und seiner Inseln, p. 194. Page 146. Ave! cujus calcem clare. From a monkish hymn of the twelfth century, in Sir Alexander Croke’s Essay on the Origin, Progress, and Decline of Rhyming Latin Verse, p. 109.

Page 155. The gold of the Busné.
Busné is the name given by the 'Gípsíes to all who are not of their race.

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