University of Virginia Library

Scene I.

—The Count of Lara's chambers. Night. The Count in his dressing-gown, smoking and conversing with Don Carlos.
Lara.
You were not at the play to-night, Don Carlos;
How happened it?

Don C.
I had engagements elsewhere.
Pray who was there?

Lara.
Why, all the town and court.
The house was crowded; and the busy fans
Among the gayly dressed and perfumed ladies
Fluttered like butterflies among the flowers.
There was the Countess of Medina Celi;
The Goblin Lady with her Phantom Lover,
Her Lindo Don Diego; Doña Sol,
And Doña Serafina, and her cousins.

Don C.
What was the play?

Lara.
It was a dull affair;
One of those comedies in which you see,
As Lope says,

La cólera
De un Español sentado no se templa,
Sino le representan en dos horas
Hasta el final juicio desde el Génesis.
Lope de Vega.

the history of the world
Brought down from Genesis to the day of Judgment.
There were three duels fought in the first act,
Three gentlemen receiving deadly wounds,
Laying their hands upon their hearts, and saying,
“Oh, I am dead!” a lover in a closet,
An old hidalgo, and a gay Don Juan,
A Doña Inez with a black mantilla,
Followed at twilight by an unknown lover,
Who looks intently where he knows she is not!

Don C.
Of course, the Preciosa danced to-night?

Lara.
And never better. Every footstep fell
As lightly as a sunbeam on the water.
I think the girl extremely beautiful.

Don C.
Almost beyond the privilege of woman!
I saw her in the Prado yesterday.
Her step was royal,—queen-like,—and her face
As beautiful as a saint's in Paradise.

Lara.
May not a saint fall from her Paradise,
And be no more a saint?

Don C.
Why do you ask?

Lara.
Because I have heard it said this angel fell,
And though she is a virgin outwardly,
Within she is a sinner; like those panels
Of doors and altar-pieces the old monks
Painted in convents, with the Virgin Mary
On the outside, and on the inside Venus!

Don C.
You do her wrong; indeed, you do her wrong!
She is a virtuous as she is fair.

Lara.
How credulous you are! Why look you, friend,
There 's not a virtuous woman in Madrid,
In this whole city! And would you persuade me
That a mere dancing-girl, who shows herself,
Nightly, half naked, on the stage, for money,
And with voluptuous motions fires the blood
Of inconsiderate youth, is to be held
A model for her virtue?

Don C.
You forget
She is a Gypsy girl.

Lara.
And therefore won
The easier.

Don C.
Nay, not to be won at all!
The only virtue that a Gypsy prizes
Is chastity. That is her only virtue.
Dearer than life she holds it. I remember
A Gypsy woman, a vile, shameless bawd,
Whose craft was to betray the young and fair;
And yet this woman was above all bribes.
And when a noble lord, touched by her beauty,
The wild and wizard beauty of her race,
Offered her gold to be what she made others,
She turned upon him, with a look of scorn,
And smote him in the face!

Lara.
And does that prove
That Preciosa is above suspicion?

Don C.
It proves a nobleman may be repulsed
When he thinks conquest easy. I believe
That woman, in her deepest degradation,
Holds something sacred, something undefiled,
Some pledge and keepsake of her higher nature,
And, like the diamond in the dark, retains
Some quenchless gleam of the celestial light!

Lara.
Yet Preciosa would have taken the gold.

Don C.
(rising).
I do not think so.

Lara.
I am sure of it.
But why this haste? Stay yet a little longer.
And fight the battles of your Dulcinea.

Don C.
'T is late. I must begone, for if I stay
You will not be persuaded.

Lara.
Yes; persuade me.

Don C.
No one so deaf as he who will not hear!

Lara.
No one so blind as he who will not see!

Don C.
And so good night. I wish you pleasant dreams,
And greater faith in woman.

[Exit.
Lara.
Greater faith!
I have the greatest faith; for I believe
Victorian is her lover. I believe
That I shall be to-morrow; and thereafter
Another, and another, and another,
Chasing each other through her zodiac,
As Taurus chases Aries.
(Enter Francisco with a casket.)
Well, Francisco,
What speed with Preciosa?

Fran.
None, my lord.
She sends your jewels back, and bids me tell you
She is not to be purchased by your gold.

Lara.
Then I will try some other way to win her.
Pray, dost thou know Victorian?

Fran.
Yes, my lord;
I saw him at the jeweller's to-day.

Lara.
What was he doing there?

Fran.
I saw him buy
A golden ring, that had a ruby in it.

Lara.
What there another like it?

Fran.
One so like it
I could not choose between them.

Lara.
It is well.
To-morrow morning bring that ring to me.
Do not forget. Now light me to my bed.

[Exeunt.