Never did I behold thee so attired Prec. Am I not always fair? Ay, and so fair I heed them not ; Vict. There's nothing fair nor beautiful, but takes Something from thee, that makes it beautiful. Prec. And yet thou leavest me for those dusty books. Vict. Thou comest between me and those books too often! I see thy face in everything I see! The paintings in the chapel wear thy looks, The canticles are changed to sarabands, And with the learned doctors of the schools I see thee dance cachuchas. Prec. In good sooth, Vict. And with whom, I pray? What mad jest Prec. It is no jest; indeed it is not. Why, simply thus. Vict. I have heard it whispered. Now the Cardinal, That thou mayest dance before them! Saving one. Vict. The sweetest beggar that e'er asked for alms; Dost thou remember It was at Cordova, Prec. 'Twas Easter-Sunday. The full-blossomed trees Filled all the air with fragance and with joy. Vict. Thou blessed angel ! And when thou wast gone Vict. Remember him no more. Let not his shadow Prec. I thought I ne'er should see thy face again. Vict. That was the first sound in the song of love! Prec. That is my faith. Dost thou believe these warnings? Vict. So far as this. Our feelings and our thoughts Proc. I have felt it so, but found no words to say it! Thou little sceptic! |