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If my obedience and blameless life,
If my humility and meek submission
In all things hitherto, can move in thee
One feeling of compassion: if thou art
Indeed my father, and canst trace in me
One look of her who bore me, or one tone
That doth remind thee of her, let it plead
In my behalf, who am a feeble girl,
Too feeble to resist, and do not force me
To wed that man! I am afraid of him!
I do not love him! On my knees I beg
thee

To use no violence, nor do in haste
What cannot be undone !

Cruz.
O child, child, child!
Thou has betrayed thy secret, as a bird
Betrays her nest, by striving to con-
ceal it.

I will not leave thee here in the great city

To be a grandee's mistress. Make thee ready

To go
with us; and until then remember
A watchful eye is on thee. [Exit.
Prec.
Woe is me!
I have a strange misgiving in my heart!
But that one deed of charity I'll do,
Befall what may; they cannot take that
[Exit.

from me.

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I told the traveller's fortune in the street;

The smuggler's horse, the brigand, and the shepherd;

The march across the moor; the halt at noon;

The red fire of the evening camp, that lighted

The forest where we slept; and farther back,

As in a dream, or in some former life, Gardens and palace walls.

Arch. 'Tis the Alhambra, Under whose towers the Gipsy camp was pitched.

But the time wears; and we would see thee dance.

Prec. Your grace shall be obeyed. (She lays aside her mantilla.

The

music of the cachucha is played, and the dance begins. The ARCHBISHOP and the CARDINAL look on with gravity and an occasional frown; then make signs to each other; and, as the dance continues, become more and more excited; and at length rise from their seats, throw their caps in the air, and applaud vehemently as the scene closes.)

SCENE III.-The Prado. A long avenue of trees leading to the gate of A tocha. On the right the dome and spires of a convent. A fountain. Evening. DON CARLOS and HYPOLITO meeting.

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Hyp.
I am that wretched man.
Don C. You mean to tell me yours
have risen empty?

Hyp. And amen! said my Cid Cam-
peador. +

Don C. Pray, how much need you? Hyp. Some half dozen ounces. Which, with due interestDon C. (giving his purse). What, am I a Jew,

To put my moneys out at usury?
Here is my purse.

Hyp. Thank you. A pretty purse, Made by the hand of some fair Madrileňa;

Perhaps a keepsake?

Don C. No; 'tis at your service.
Hyp. Thank you again. Lie there,

good Chrysostom,

And with thy golden mouth remind me

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Don C. Jesting aside, who is it?
Hyp.

Preciosa. Don C. Impossible! The Count of Lara tells me

She is not virtuous.

Hyp.
Did I say she was?
The Roman Emperor Claudius had a
wife

Whose name was Messalina, as I think;
Valeria Messalina was her name.
But hist! 1 see him yonder through
the trees,

Walking as in a dream.
Don C.
He comes this way.
Hyp. It has been truly said by some
wise man,

That money, grief, and love cannot be hidden.

(Enter VICTORIAN in front.) Vict. Where'er thy step has passed is holy ground.

These groves are sacred! I behold thee walking

Under these shadowy trees, where we

have walked

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Prec.

Even you, fair Preciosa, here at court
Have foes, who seek to wrong you.
If to this
I owe the honour of the present visit,
You might have spared the coming.
Having spoken,

Once more I beg you, leave me to myself.

Lara. I thought it but a friendly part to tell you

What strange reports are current here in town.

For my own self, I do not credit them; But there are many who, not knowing you,

Will lend a readier ear.
Prec.
That you

There was no need should take upon yourself the

duty

Of telling me these tales.

Lara.

Malicious tongues Are ever busy with your name. Prec.

Alas!

I have no protectors. I am a poor girl, Exposed to insults and unfeeling jests. They wound me, yet I cannot shield myself.

I give no cause for these reports. I live Retired; am visited by none.

Lara.

By none?

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