Vict.Ay, and so fair That I am jealous of all eyes that see thee, And wish that they were blind.
Prec.I heed them not;
When thou art present, I see none but thee!
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 leaned doctors of the schools I see thee dance cachuchas.
Prec.In good sooth, I dance with learned doctors of the schools To-morrow morning.
Vict.And with whom, I pray?
Prec.A grave and reverend Cardinal, and his Grace The Archbishop of Toledo.
Vict.What mad jest Is this ?
Prec.It is no jest; indeed it is not.
Vict.Prithee, explain thyself.
Prec.Why, simply thus.
Thou knowest the Pope has sent here into Spain To put a stop to dances on the stage.
Vict.I have heard it whispered.
Prec.Now the Cardinal, Who for this purpose comes, would fain behold With his own eyes these dances; and the Archbishop Has sent for me--Vict.That thou mayst dance before them!
Now viva la cachucha! It will breathe The fire of youth into these gray old men!
'T will be thy proudest conquest!
Prec.Saving one.
And yet I fear these dances will be stopped, And Preciosa be once more a beggar.
Vict.The sweetest beggar that e'er asked for alms;With such beseeching eyes, that when I saw thee I gave my heart away!
Prec.Dost thou remember When first we met?
Vict.It was at Cordova, In the cathedral garden.Thou wast sitting Under the orange-trees, beside a fountain.
Prec.'T was Easter-Sunday.The full-blossomed trees Filled all the air with fragrance and with joy.
The priests were singing, and the organ sounded, And then anon the great cathedral bell.
It was the elevation of the Host.
We both of us fell down upon our knees, Under the orange boughs, and prayed together.
I never had been happy till that moment.
Vict.Thou blessed angel!
Prec.And when thou wast gone I felt an acting here.I did not speak To any one that day.But from that day Bartolome grew hateful unto me.
Vict.Remember him no more.Let not his shadow Come between thee and me.Sweet Preciosa!
I loved thee even then, though I was silent!
Prec.I thought I ne'er should see thy face again.
Thy farewell had a sound of sorrow in it.
Vict.That was the first sound in the song of love!
Scarce more than silence is, and yet a sound.
Hands of invisible spirits touch the strings Of that mysterious instrument, the soul, And play the prelude of our fate.We hear The voice prophetic, and are not alone.
Prec.That is my faith.Dust thou believe these warnings?
Vict.So far as this.Our feelings and our thoughts Tend ever on, and rest not in the Present.
As drops of rain fall into some dark well, And from below comes a scarce audible sound, So fall our thoughts into the dark Hereafter, And their mysterious echo reaches us.
Prec.I have felt it so, but found no words to say it!
I cannot reason; I can only feel!
But thou hast language for all thoughts and feelings.
Thou art a scholar; and sometimes I think We cannot walk together in this world!
The distance that divides us is too great!
Henceforth thy pathway lies among the stars;I must not hold thee back.
Vict.Thou little sceptic!
Dost thou still doubt? What I most prize in woman Is her affections, not her intellect!
The intellect is finite; but the affections Are infinite, and cannot be exhausted.
Compare me with the great men of the earth;What am I? Why, a pygmy among giants!
But if thou lovest,--mark me! I say lovest, The greatest of thy *** excels thee not!
The world of the affections is thy world, Not that of man's ambition.In that stillness Which most becomes a woman, calm and holy, Thou sittest by the fireside of the heart, Feeding its flame.The element of fire Is pure.It cannot change nor hide its nature, But burns as brightly in a Gypsy camp As in a palace hall.Art thou convinced?
Prec.Yes, that I love thee, as the good love heaven;But not that I am worthy of that heaven.
How shall I more deserve it?
Vict.Loving more.
Prec.I cannot love thee more; my heart is full.
Vict.Then let it overflow, and I will drink it, As in the summer-time the thirsty sands Drink the swift waters of the Manzanares, And still do thirst for more.
A Watchman (in the street).Ave Maria Purissima! 'T is midnight and serene!
Vict.Hear'st thou that cry?
Prec.It is a hateful sound, To scare thee from me!
Vict.As the hunter's horn Doth scare the timid stag, or bark of hounds The moor-fowl from his mate.
Prec.Pray, do not go!
Vict.I must away to Alcala to-night.
Think of me when I am away.
Prec.Fear not!
I have no thoughts that do not think of thee.
Vict.(giving her a ring).
And to remind thee of my love, take this;A serpent, emblem of Eternity;
A ruby,--say, a drop of my heart's blood.
Prec.It is an ancient saying, that the ruby Brings gladness to the wearer, and preserves The heart pure, and, if laid beneath the pillow, Drives away evil dreams.But then, alas!
It was a serpent tempted Eve to sin.
Vict.What convent of barefooted Carmelites Taught thee so much theology?
Prec.(laying her hand upon his mouth).Hush! hush!
Good night! and may all holy angels guard thee!
Vict.Good night! good night! Thou art my guardian angel!
I have no other saint than thou to pray to!
(He descends by the balcony.)
Prec.Take care, and do not hurt thee.Art thou safe?
Vict.(from the garden).
Safe as my love for thee! But art thou safe?
Others can climb a balcony by moonlight As well as I.Pray shut thy window close;I am jealous of the perfumed air of night That from this garden climbs to kiss thy lips.
Prec.(throwing down her handkerchief).
Thou silly child! Take this to blind thine eyes.
It is my benison!
Vict.And brings to me Sweet fragrance from thy lips, as the soft wind Wafts to the out-bound mariner the breath Of the beloved land he leaves behind.
Prec.Make not thy voyage long.
