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SCENE VII.

A lane in the suburbs. Night. Enter CRUZADO and
BARTOLOMÉ.

CRUZADO.

And so, Bartolomé, the expedition failed. But where wast thou for the most part?

BARTOLOMÉ.

In the Guadarrama mountains, near San Ildefonso.

CRUZADO.

And thou bringest nothing back with thee? Didst thou rob no one?

BARTOLOMÉ.

There was no one to rob, save a party of students from Segovia, who looked as if they would rob us ; and a jolly little friar, who had nothing in his pockets but a missal and a loaf of bread.

CRUZADO.

Pray, then, what brings thee back to Madrid?

[blocks in formation]

CRUZADO.

The two years are not passed yet. Wait patiently. The girl shall be thine.

BARTOLOMÉ.

I hear she has a Busné lover.

CRUZADO.

That is nothing.

BARTOLOMÉ.

harlot.

I do not like it. I hate him, the son of a Busné He goes in and out, and speaks with her alone; and I must stand aside, and wait his pleasure.

CRUZADO.

Be patient, I say. Thou shalt have thy revenge. When the time comes, thou shalt waylay him.

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SCENE VIII.

The Theatre. The orchestra plays the cachucha.

Sound of cas

tanets behind the scenes. The curtain rises, and discovers

PRECIOSA in the attitude of commencing the dance.

The ca

chucha. Tumult; hisses; cries of "Brava !" and "Afuera!" She falters and pauses. The music stops.

PRECIOSA faints.

General confusion.

SCENE IX.

The COUNT OF LARA's chambers. LARA and his friends at

supper.

LARA.

So, Caballeros, once more many thanks!

You have stood by me bravely in this matter.
Pray fill your glasses.

DON JUAN.

Did you mark, Don Luis,

How pale she looked, when first the noise began,
And then stood still, with her large eyes dilated!
Her nostrils spread! her lips apart! her bosom
Tumultuous as the sea?

DON LUIS.

I pitied her.

LARA.

Her pride is humbled; and this very night

I mean to visit her.

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She now is in. Music would madden her.

DON JUAN.

Try golden cymbals.

DON LUIS.

Yes, try Don Dinero;

A mighty wooer is your Don Dinero.

LARA.

To tell the truth, then, I have bribed her maid. But, Caballeros, you dislike this wine.

A bumper, and away; for the night wears.

A health to Preciosa!

(They rise and drink.)

ALL.

Preciosa!

LARA (holding up his glass).

Thou bright and flaming minister of Love!

Thou wonderful magician! who hast stolen
My secret from me, and mid sighs of passion
Caught from my lips, with red and fiery tongue,
Her precious name! Oh, never more henceforth
Shall mortal lips press thine; and never more
A mortal name be whispered in thine ear.

Go! keep my secret!

(Drinks, and dashes the goblet down.)

DON JUAN.

Ite! missa est!

(Scene closes.)

SCENE X.

Street and garden-wall. Night. Enter CRUZADO and
BARTOLOMÉ.

CRUZADO.

This is the garden-wall, and above it, yonder, is her house. The window in which thou seest the light is her window. But we will not go in now.

Why not?

BARTOLOMÉ.

CRUZADO.

Because she is not at home.

BARTOLOMÉ.

No matter; we can wait. But how is this? The gate is bolted. (Sound of guitars and voices in

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