I have none else to fear; the fight is done,
The citadel is stormed, the victory won!

[Exit with FRANCISCO.

SCENE VII-A lane in the suburbs. Night. Enter CRUZADO and BARTOLOMÉ.

Cruz. And so, Bartolomé, the expedition failed. But where wast thou for the most part?

Bart. In the Guadarrama mountains, near San Ildefonso.
Cruz. And thou bringest nothing back with thee?

no one?

Didst thou rob

Bart. There was no one to rob, save a party of students from Segovia, who looked as if they would rob us; and a jolly little friar, who had nothing in his pockets but a missal and a loaf of bread.

Cruz. Pray, then, what brings thee back to Madrid ?

Bart. First tell me what keeps thee here?

Cruz. Preciosa.

Bart. And she brings me back. Hast thou forgotten thy promise? Cruz. The two years are not passed yet. Wait patiently. The girl shall be thine.

Bart. I hear she has a Busné lover.

Cruz. That is nothing.

Bart. I do not like it. I hate him,-the son of a Busné harlot. He goes in and out, and speaks with her alone, and I must stand aside and wait his pleasure.

Cruz. Be patient, I say. Thou shalt have thy revenge. When the time comes, thou shalt waylay him.

Bart. Meanwhile, show me her house.

Cruz. Come this way. But thou wilt not find her. She dances at the play to-night.

Bart. No matter.

Show me the house.

[Exeunt.

SCENE VIII.-The Theatre. The orchestra plays the cachucha. Sound of castanets behind the scenes. The curtain rises, and discovers PRECIOSA in the attitude of commencing the dance. The cachucha. Tumult; hisses; cries of "Brava!” and “Afuera!” She falters and pauses. The music stops. General confusion. PRECIOSA faints.

SCENE IX.-The COUNT OF LARA's chambers. LARA and his friends at supper.

Lara. So, Caballeros, once more many thanks!

You have stood by me bravely in this matter.

Pray fill your glasses.

Did you mark, Don Luis,

Juan.
How pale she looked, when first the noise began,
And then stood still, with her large eyes dilated!
Her nostrils spread! her lips apart! her bosom
Tumultuous as the sea!

Lavis.

I pitied her.

Lara. Her pride is humbled; and this very night

I mean to visit her.

Yes, try Don Dinero;

A mighty wooer is your Don Dinero.

Lara. To tell the truth, then I have bribed her maid.

But, Caballeros, you dislike this wine.

A bumper and away; for the night wears.

A health to Preciosa!

Lara [holding up his glass]. Thou bright and flaming minister
of Love!

Thou wonderful magician! who hast stolen
My secret from me, and mid sighs of passion
Caught from my lips, with red and fiery tongue,
Her precious name! O never more henceforth
Shall mortal lips press thine; and never more
A mortal name be whispered in thine ear.
Go! keep my secret.

SCENE X.-Street and garden wall. Night. Enter CRUZado and BartOLOM É.

Cruz. This is the garden wall, and above it, yonder, is her house. The window in which thou seest the light is her window. But we will not go in now.

Bart. Why not?

Cruz. Because she is not at home.

Bart. No matter; we can wait. But how is this? The gate is bolted. [Sound of guitars and voices in a neighbouring street.] Hark! 'There comes her lover with his infernal serenade! Hark!

SONG.

Good night! Good night, beloved!

I come to watch o'er thee!

To be near thee,-to be near thee,
Alone is peace for me.

Thine eyes are stars of morning,
Thy lips are crimson flowers!
Good night! Good night, beloved,
While I count the weary hours.

Cruz. They are not coming this way.
Bart. Wait, they begin again.

SONG [coming nearer].

Ah! thou moon that shinest
Argent-clear above!

All night long enlighten
My sweet lady-love!
Moon that shinest,

All night long enlighten!

Bart. Woe be to him if he comes this way!
Cruz. Be quiet, they are passing down the street.

Burt. Follow that! Follow that! Come with me.

Puss! puss

[Exeunt. On the opposite side enter the COUNT OF LARA and gentlemen, with
FRANCISCO.]

Lara. The gate is fast. Over the wall, Francisco,
And draw the bolt. There, so, and so, and over.
Now, gentlemen, come in, and help me scale
Yon balcony. How now? Her light still burns.
Move warily. Make fast the gate, Francisco.

[Exeunt. Re-enter CRUZADO and BARTOLOMÉ.]

Bart. They went in at the gate. Hark! I hear them in the garden. [Tries the gate.] Bolted again! Vive Cristo! Follow me over the wall.

[They climb the wall.]

SCENE XI.-PRECIOSA'S Bed-chamber. Midnight. She is sleeping in an arm-chair, in an undress. DOLORES watching her.

He comes! I hear his footsteps!

Pre. Go tell them that I cannot dance to-night;

I am too ill! Look at me! See the fever

That burns upon my cheek! I must go hence,
I am too weak to dance.

[Signal from the garden.]

Dol. [from the window]. Who's there?
Voice [from below].

A friend.

Dol. I will undo the door. Wait till I come.

Pre. I must go hence. I pray you do not harm me!
Shame! shame! to treat a feeble woman thus!

Be you but kind, I will do all things for you.
I'm ready now,—give me my castanets.
Where is Victorian ? Oh, those hateful lamps!
They glare upon me like an evil eye.

I cannot stay. Hark! how they mock at me!
They hiss at me like serpents! Save me! save me!

Smooth this pillow for me.

Pre. We must be patient.

[She sleeps again. Noise from the garden, and voices.]

SCENE I.-A cross-road through a wood. In the background a distant village spire. VICTORIAN and HYPOLITO, as travelling students, with guitars, sitting under the trees. HYPOLITO plays and sings.

To him who keeps most faith with thee.
Woe is me!

The falcon has the eyes of the dove.
Ah! Love!

Perjured, false, treacherous Love!

Vict. Yes, Love is ever busy with his shuttle,
Is ever weaving into life's dull warp

Bright, gorgeous flowers and scenes Arcadian;
Hanging our gloomy prison-house about
With tapestries, that make its walls dilate
In never-ending vistas of delight.

Hyp. Thinking to walk in those Arcadian pastures Thou hast run thy noble head against the wall.

SONG [continued].

Thy deceits

Give us clearly to comprehend,
Whither tend

All thy pleasures, all thy sweets!
They are cheats,

Thorns below and flowers above.
Ah, Love!

Perjured, false, treacherous Love!

Vict. A very pretty song. I thank thee for it.

Hyp. It suits thy case.

Vict.

What wise man wrote it?

Hyp.

Indeed, I think it does.

Lopez Maldonado.

With much truth in it

Vict. In truth, a pretty song.

Hyp.
I hope thou wilt profit by it; and in earnest
Try to forget this lady of thy love.

Vict. I will forget her! All dear recollections
Pressed in my heart, like flowers within a book,
Shall be torn out, and scattered to the winds!
I will forget her! But perhaps hereafter,
When she shall learn how heartless is the world,
A voice within her will repeat my name,
And she will say, "He was indeed my friend!"
O, would I were a soldier, not a scholar,
That the loud march, the deafening beat of drums,
The shattering blast of the brass-throated trumpet,
The din of arms, the onslaught and the storm,
And a swift death, might make me deaf for ever
To the upbraidings of this foolish heart!

Hyp. Then let that foolish heart upbraid no more!
To conquer love, one need but will to conquer.
Vict. Yet, good Hypolito, it is in vain

I throw into Oblivion's sea the sword

That pierces me; for, like Excalibar,

With gemmed and flashing hilt, it will not sink.
There rises from below a hand that grasps it,
And waves it in the air; and wailing voices
Are heard along the shore.

Hyp.

And yet at last

Down sank Excalibar to rise no more.

This is not well. In truth, it vexes me.
Instead of whistling to the steeds of Time,

To make them jog on merrily with life's burden,
Like a dead weight thou hangest on the wheels,
Thou art too young, too full of lusty health
To talk of dying.