For thee to pass; the votive tapers shine; Like rooks that haunt Ravenna's groves of pine The hovering echoes fly from tomb to tomb. From the confessionals I hear arise Rehearsals of forgotten tragedies, And lamentations from the crypts below; 66 Although your sins As scarlet be," and ends with "as the snow." IV. I LIFT mine eyes, and all the windows blaze No more rebukes, but smiles her words of praise. And the melodious bells among the spires O'er all the house-tops and through heaven above V. O STAR of morning and of liberty: O bringer of the light whose splendour shines Forerunner of the day that is to be! The voices of the city and the sea, The voices of the mountains and the pines, In their own language hear thy wondrous word, SCENE I.-The Cour LARA's Chambers. Night. The COUNT in his dressing-gown, smoking and conversing with DON CARLOS. Lara. You were not at the play to-night, Don Carlos; How happened it? I had engagements elsewhere. It was a dull affair; One of those comedies in which you see, As Lope says, the history of the world Brought down from Genesis to the Day of Judgment. An old hidalgo, and a gay Don Juan, A Doña Inez with a black mantilla, Followed at twilight by an unknown lover, I think the girl extremely beautiful. Carlos. Almost beyond the privilege of woman! I saw her in the Prado yesterday. Her step was royal-queen-like-and her face Lara. May not a saint fall from her Paradise, Carlos. Why do you ask? Lara. Because I have heard it said this angel fell, Within she is a sinner; like those panels Carlos. You do her wrong; indeed, you do her wrong! She is as virtuous as she is fair. Lara. How credulous you are! Why, look you, friend, There's not a virtuous woman in Madrid, In this whole city! And would you persuade me Carlos. You forget And therefore won Nay, not to be won at all! The only virtue that a Gipsy prizes Is chastity. This is her only virtue. Dearer than life she holds it. I remember A Gipsy woman, a vile, shameless bawd, Whose craft was to betray the young and fair; 0 And yet this woman was above all bribes. Lara. And does that prove That Preciosa is above suspicion ? Carlos. It proves a nobleman may be repulsed Lara. Carlos. "Tis late. I must begone, for if I stay Lara. Yes; persuade me. Carlos. No one so deaf as he who will not hear! Lara. No one so blind as he who will not see! Carlos. And so good night. I wish you pleasant dreams, Lara. Greater faith! I have the greatest faith; for I believe Victorian is her lover. I believe That I shall be to-morrow; and thereafter Another, and another, and another, Chasing each other through her zodiac, As Taurus chases Aries. [Enter FRANCISCO with a casket.] Well, Francisco, None, my lord. What speed with Preciosa ? Fran. Lara. Then I will try some other way to win her. Fran. I saw him at the jeweller's to-day. A golden ring that had a ruby in it. Yes, my lord, I saw him buy [Exit. SCENE II-A street in Madrid. Enter CHISPA, followed by musicians, with a bagpipe, guitars, and other instruments. Chis. Abernuncio Satanas! and a plague on all lovers who ramble about at night, drinking the elements, instead of sleeping quietly in their beds. Every dead man to his cemetery, say I; and every friar to his monastery. Now, here's my master, Victorian, yesterday a cowkeeper, and to-day a gentleman; yesterday a student, and to-day a lover; and I must be up later than the nightingale, for as the abbot sings so must the sacristan respond. God grant he may soon be married, for then shall all this serenading cease. Ay, marry! marry! marry! Mother, what does marry mean? It means to spin, to bear children, and to weep, my daughter! And, of a truth, there is something more in matrimony than the wedding-ring. [To the musicians.] And now, gentlemen, Pax vobiscum! as the ass said to the cabbages. Pray, walk this way; and don't hang down your heads. It is no disgrace to have an old father and a ragged shirt. Now, look you, you are gentlemen who lead the life of crickets; you enjoy hunger by day and noise by night. Yet, I beseech you, for this once be not loud, but pathetic; for it is a serenade to a damsel in bed, and not to the Man in the Moon. Your object is not to arouse and terrify, but to soothe and bring lulling dreams. Therefore, each shall not play upon his instrument as if it were the only one in the universe, but gently, and with a certain modesty, according with the others. Pray, how may I call thy name, friend? First Mus. Gerónimo Gil, at your service. Chis. Every tub smells of the wine that is in it. Pray, Gerónimo, is not Saturday an unpleasant day with thee? First Mus. Why so? Chis. Because I have heard it said that Saturday is an unpleasant day with those who have but one shirt. Moreover, I have seen thee at the tavern, and if thou canst run as fast as thou canst drink, I should like to hunt hares with thee. What instrument is that? First Mus. An Aragonese bagpipe. Chis. Pray, art thou related to the bagpiper of Bujalance, who asked a maravedi for playing, and ten for leaving off? First Mus. No, your honour. Chis. I am glad of it. What other instruments have we? Second and Third Mus. We play the bandurria. Chis. A pleasing instrument. And thou? Fourth Mus. The fife. Chis. I like it; it has a cheerful, soul-stirring sound, that soars up to my lady's window like the song of a swallow. And you others? Other Mus. We are the singers, please your honour. |