canst drink, I should like to hunt hares with thee. What instrument is that? First Mus. An Aragonese bagpipe. Chispa. Pray art thou related to the bagpiper of Bujalance, who asked a maravedi for playing, and ten for leaving off? First Mus. No, your honour. Chispa. I am glad of it. What other instruments have we? Second and Third Mus. We play the bandurria. Chispa. A pleasing instrument. And thou? Fourth Mus. The fife. Chispa. I like it; it has a cheerful, soul-stirring sound, that soars up to my lady's window like the song of a swallow. And you others? Other Mus. We are the singers, please your honour. Chispa. You are too many. Do you think we are going to sing mass in the cathedral of Cordova? Four men can make but little use of one shoe, and I see not how you can all sing in one song. But follow me along the garden wall. That is the way my master climbs to the lady's window. It is by the Vicar's skirts that the devil climbs into the belfry. Come, follow me, and make no noise. [Exeunt. As singing birds from one bough to another. Prec. That were a life indeed to make time envious ! I knew that thou wouldst visit me tonight. I saw thee at the play. Vict. Sweet child of air! Never did I behold thee so attired And garmented in beauty as to-night! What hast thou done to make thee look so fair? Prec. Am I not always fair? 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 learned doctors of the schools I see thee dance cachuchas. the stars; I must not hold thee back. Vict. Is her affections, not her intellect ! What am I? Why, a pigmy among giants! But if thou lovest,-mark me! I say lovest, The greatest of thy sex excels thee not! The world of the affections is thy world, Not that of man's ambition. In that 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 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, To guide me to an anchorage. Good night! My beauteous star! My star of love, Watchman (at a distance). Ave SCENE IV.-An inn on the road to Alcalá. BALTASAR asleep on bench. Enter CHISPA. a Chispa. And here we are, half-way to Alcalá, between cocks and midnight. Body o' me! what an inn this is! The lights out, and the landlord asleep. Holá! ancient Baltasar ! Bal. (waking). Here am I. Chispa. Yes, there you are, like a one-eyed Alcalde in a town without inhabitants. Bring a light, and let me have supper. Bal. Where is your master? Chispa. Do not trouble yourself about him. We have stopped a moment to breathe our horses; and if he chooses to walk up and down in the open air, looking into the sky as one who hears it rain, that does not satisfy my hunger, you know. But be quick, for I am in a hurry, and every man stretches his legs according to the length of his coverlet. What have we here? Bal. (setting a light on the table). Stewed rabbit. Chispa (eating). Conscience of Portalegre! Stewed kitten, you mean! Bal. And a pitcher of Pedro Ximenes, with a roasted pear in it. Chispa (drinking). Ancient Baltasar, amigo! You know how to cry wine and sell vinegar. I tell you this is nothing but Vino Tinto of La Mancha, with a tang of the swine-skin. Bal. I swear to you, by Saint Simon and Judas, it is all as I say. Chispa. And I swear to you, by Saint Peter and Saint Paul, that it is no such thing. Moreover, your supper is like the hidalgo's dinner, very little meat, and a great deal of table-cloth. Bal. Ha! ha! ha! Chispa. And more noise than nuts. Bal. Ha ha! ha! You must have your joke, Master Chispa. But shall Í not ask Don Victorian in, to take a draught of the Pedro Ximenes? Chispa. No; you might as well say, "Don't-you-want-some?" to a dead man. Bal. Why does he go so often to Madrid? Chispa. For the same reason that he eats no supper. He is in love. Were you ever in love, Baltasar? Bal. I was never out of it, good Chispa. It has been the torment of my life. Chispa. What! are you on fire, too, old haystack? Why, we shall never be able to put you out. Vict. (without). Chispa! Chispa. Go to bed, Pero Grullo, for the cocks are crowing. Vict. Ea! Chispa! Chispa! Chispa. Ea! Señor. Come with me, ancient Baltasar, and bring water for the horses. I will pay for the supper to-morrow. [Exeunt. SCENE V.-VICTORIAN'S chambers at Alcalá. HYPOLITO asleep in an arm-chair. He awakes slowly. Hyp. I must have been asleep! ay, sound asleep! And it was all a dream. O sleep, sweet sleep! Whatever form thou takest, thou art fair, Holding unto our lips thy goblet filled Out of Oblivion's well, a healing draught! The candles have burned low; it must be late. Where can Victorian be? Like Fray Carrillo,* The only place in which one cannot find him Here's his guitar, Is his own cell. (He plays and sings.) What do you want of Padre Francisco? (Enter VICTORIAN.) Vict. Padre Hypolito! Padre Hypolito! Hyp. What do you want of Padre Hypolito? Vict. Come, shrive me straight; for, if love be a sin, The allusion here is to a Spanish epigram. "Siempre Fray Carrillo estás Böhl de Faber. Floresta, No. 611. Of the old woman in the chimney corner, Who, while the "Come I'll tell thee a story of my wedding-day." Hyp. Alas! that heart of thine Is like a scene in the old play; the curtain Rises to solemn music, and lo! enter The eleven thousand virgins of Cologne! Vict. Nay, like the Sibyl's volumes, thou shouldst say; Those that remained, after the six were burned, Being held more precious than the nine together. But listen to my tale. Dost thou remember The Gipsy girl we saw at Córdova |