Pre. Betray thee? I betray thee? Bart. Preciosa! I come for thee! for thee I thus brave death! Pre. Speak of that no more. I cannot. I am thine no longer. O, recall the time Bart. Pre. "Twas my father's promise, Not mine. I never gave my heart to thee, Bart. And heart more false ! Pre. I will speak frankly. I cannot love thee. False tongue of woman! Nay, listen unto me. I have never loved thee; It is my destiny. Thou art a man Restless and violent. What wouldst thou with me, Whose heart is broken? Seek another wife, Better than I, and fairer; and let not Thy rash and headlong moods estrange her from thee. Thou art unhappy in this hopeless passion. I never sought thy love; never did aught To make thee love me. Yet I pity thee, That hurries thee to crimes and deeds of blood. For thy dear sake, Bart. Bart. Come, come with me. Pre. Hark! I hear footsteps. Pre. Away! It is in vain. Pre. Never! I entreat thee, come! Wilt thou not come ? [Exit. Bart. Pre. All holy angels keep me in this hour! Yet why should I fear death? What is it to die? And be at rest for ever! O, dull heart, Be of good cheer! When thou shalt cease to beat, [Enter VICTORIAN and HYPOLITO behind.] Vict. "Tis she! Behold, how beautiful she stands Under the tent-like trees! Hyp. A woodland nymph! Vict. I pray thee, stand aside. Leave me. Hyp. Do not betray thyself too soon. Vict. [disguising his voice]. Hist! Gipsy! Be wary. Pre. [aside, with emotion]. That voice! that voice from heaven! O speak again! Pre. [aside] "Tis he! "Tis he! I thank thee, Heaven, that thou hast heard my prayer, Be strong, my heart! I must dissemble here. Vict. Fear not; come hither. A true friend to the true. So; can you tell fortunes? Give me your hand. It is not crossed, I see. Vict. [putting a piece of gold into her hand]. There is the cross. Pre. Vict. Is't silver? No, 'tis gold. Pre. There's a fair lady at the Court, who loves you, And for yourself alone. Vict. Tell me a better fortune for my money; Fie! the old story! You are passionate; Not this old woman's tale! Pre. And this same passionate humour in your blood Shame! shame! O you have wronged the maid who loved you! Your hand is cold, like a deceiver's hand! There is no blessing in its charity! Make her your wife, for you have been abused; And you shall mend your fortunes, mending hers. Vict. [aside]. How like an angel's speaks the tongue of woman. When pleading in another's cause her own That is a pretty ring upon your finger. Pray give it me. [Tries to take the ring.] Pre. No; never from my hand Shall that be taken! Vict. Why, 'tis but a ring. I'll give it back to you; or, if I keep it, A traveller's fancy, A whim, and nothing more. I would fain keep it As a memento of the Gipsy camp In Guadarrama, and the fortune-teller Who sent me back to wed a widowed maid. Pray, let me have the ring. Pre. No, never! never! Vict. How? dead? Pre. Yes; dead to me; and worse than dead. He is estranged! And yet I keep this ring. I will rise with it from my grave hereafter, To prove to him that I was never false. Vict. [aside]. Be still, my swelling heart! one moment, still! Why, 'tis the folly of a love-sick girl. Come, give it me, or I will say 'tis mine, And that you stole it. Pre. O, you will not dare Not dare? To utter such a fiendish lie! Vict. Look in my face, and say if there is aught I have not dared, I would not dare for thee! [She rushes into his arms.] Pre. "Tis thou! 'tis thou! Yes; yes; my heart's elected! Where hast thou been so long? Why didst thou leave me? Let me forget we ever have been parted! Pre. Hadst thou not come I pray thee, do not chide me! Vict. F༠ Think'st thou this heart could feel a moment's joy, Indeed, since that sad hour I have not slept, Dost thou forgive me? Say, wilt thou forgive me? Vict. I'm the veriest fool That walks the earth, to have believed thee false. Pre. That bad man Has worked me harm enough. Hast thou not heard- [They walk aside.] Hyp. All gentle quarrels in the pastoral poets, All passionate love scenes in the best romances, All chaste embraces on the public stage, All soft adventures, which the liberal stars Have winked at, as the natural course of things, Have been surpassed here by my friend, the student, Pre. Señor Hypolito! I kiss your hand. Not to-night; For, should you treat me as you did Victorian, And send me back to marry maids forlorn, My wedding-day would last from now till Christmas. Chispa [within]. What ho! the Gipsies, ho! Beltran Cruzado! Halloo! halloo! halloo! halloo ! Vict. [Enters booted, with a whip and lantern.] What now? Why such a fearful din? Hast thou been robbed? Chis. Ay, robbed and murdered; and good evening to you, My worthy masters. Vict. Speak; what brings thee here ? Chis. [to PRECIOSA]. Good news from Court; good news! Beltran Cruzado, The Count of the Calés, is not your father; But your true father has returned to Spain Laden with wealth. You are no more a Gipsy. Vict. Strange as a Moorish tale! 1 |