Ha ha! ha!

BALTASAR.

CHISPA.

And more noise than nuts.

BALTASAR.

Ha ha ha! You must have your joke, Master Chispa. But shall I 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.

BALTASAR.

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?

BALTASAR.

I was never out of it, good Chispa. It has been the torment of my life.

CHISPA.

What are you on fire, too, old hay-stack? Why, we shall never be able to put you out.

Chispa!

VICTORIAN (without).

CHISPA.

Go to bed, Pero Grullo, for the cocks are crowing

Ea! Chispa! Chispa!

VICTORIAN.

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.

HYPOLITO.

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
Is his own cell. Here's his guitar, that seldom
Feels the caresses of its master's hand.

Open thy silent lips, sweet instrument!

And make dull midnight merry with a song.

(He plays and sings.)

Padre Francisco!

Padre Francisco!

What do you want of Padre Francisco?

Here is a pretty young maiden

Who wants to confess her sins!

Open the door and let her come in,

I will shrive her from every sin.

(Enter VICTORIAN.)

VICTORIAN.

Padre Hypolito! Padre Hypolito!

HYPOLITO.

What do you want of Padre Hypolito?

VICTORIAN.

Come, shrive me straight; for, if love be a sin,

I am the greatest sinner that doth live.

I will confess the sweetest of all crimes,

A maiden wooed and won.

HYPOLITO.

The same old tale

Of the old woman in the chimney corner,

Who, while the pot boils, says, "Come here, my

child;

I'll tell thee a story of my wedding-day."

VICTORIAN.

Nay, listen, for my heart is full; so full

That I must speak.

HYPOLITO.

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!

VICTORIAN.

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

Dance the Romalis in the market-place?

HYPOLITO.

Thou meanest Preciosa.

VICTORIAN,

Ay, the same.

Thou knowest how her image haunted me

Long after we returned to Alcalá,

She's in Madrid.

HYPOLITO.

I know it.

VICTORIAN.

And I'm in love.

HYPOLITO.

And therefore in Madrid when thou shouldst be

In Alcalá.

VICTORIAN.

O pardon me, my friend,

If I so long have kept this secret from thee;

But silence is the charm that guards such treasures,

And, if a word be spoken ere the time,

They sink again, they were not meant for us.

HYPOLITO.

Alas! alas! I see thou art in love.

Love keeps the cold out better than a cloak.
It serves for food and raiment. Give a Spaniard
His mass, his olla, and his Doña Luisa,—

Thou knowest the proverb. But pray tell me, lover,

How speeds thy wooing? Is the maiden coy?
Write her a song, beginning with an Ave;

Sing as the monk sang to the Virgin Mary,

Ave! cujus calcem clare

Nec centenni commendare

Sciret Seraph studio!

VICTORIAN.

Pray, do not jest! This is no time for it!

I am in earnest!

HYPOLITO.

Seriously enamored?

What, ho! The Primus of Great Alcalá
Enamored of a Gipsy? Tell me frankly,

How meanest thou?

VICTORIAN.

I mean it honestly.

HYPOLITO.

Surely thou wilt not marry her!