The Complete Poetical Works of Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. Генри Уодсуорт Лонгфелло
belonged to you,
Never would I have sought to win her from you.
The truth stands now revealed; she has been false
To both of us.
Vict. Ay, false as hell itself!
Lara. In truth, I did not seek her; she sought me;
And told me how to win her, telling me
The hours when she was oftenest left alone.
Vict. Say, can you prove this to me? O, pluck out
These awful doubts, that goad me into madness!
Let me know all! all! all!
Lara. You shall know all.
Here is my page, who was the messenger
Between us. Question him. Was it not so,
Francisco?
Fran. Ay, my lord.
Lara. If further proof
Is needful, I have here a ring she gave me.
Vict. Pray let me see that ring! It is the same!
(Throws it upon the ground, and tramples upon it.)
Thus may she perish who once wore that ring! Thus do I spurn her from me; do thus trample Her memory in the dust! O Count of Lara, We both have been abused, been much abused! I thank you for your courtesy and frankness. Though, like the surgeon's hand, yours gave me pain, Yet it has cured my blindness, and I thank you. I now can see the folly I have done, Though 't is, alas! too late. So fare you well! To-night I leave this hateful town forever. Regard me as your friend. Once more farewell!
Hyp. Farewell, Sir Count.
[Exeunt VICTORIAN and HYPOLITO.
Lara. Farewell! farewell! farewell!
Thus have I cleared the field of my worst foe!
I have none else to fear; the fight is done,
The citadel is stormed, the victory won!
[Exit with FRANCISCO.
SCENE VII. — A lane in the suburbs. Night. Enter CRUZADO and
BARTOLOME.
Cruz. And so, Bartolome, the expedition failed. But where
wast thou for the most part?
Bart. In the Guadarrama mountains, near San Ildefonso.
Cruz. And thou bringest nothing back with thee? Didst thou
rob no one?
Bart. 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.
Cruz. Pray, then, what brings thee back to Madrid?
Bart. First tell me what keeps thee here?
Cruz. Preciosa.
Bart. And she brings me back. Hast thou forgotten thy
promise?
Cruz. The two years are not passed yet. Wait patiently. The
girl shall be thine.
Bart. I hear she has a Busne lover.
Cruz. That is nothing.
Bart. I do not like it. I hate him—the son of a Busne
harlot. He goes in and out, and speaks with her alone, and I
must stand aside, and wait his pleasure.
Cruz. Be patient, I say. Thou shalt have thy revenge. When
the time comes, thou shalt waylay him.
Bart. Meanwhile, show me her house.
Cruz. Come this way. But thou wilt not find her. She dances
at the play to-night.
Bart. No matter. Show me the house.
[Exeunt.
SCENE VIII. — The Theatre. The orchestra plays the cachucha.
Sound of castanets behind the scenes. The curtain rises, and discovers PRECIOSA in the attitude of commencing the dance. The cachucha. Tumult; hisses; cries of "Brava!" and "Afuera!" She falters and pauses. The music stops. General confusion. PRECIOSA faints.
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 J. 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 L. I pitied her.
Lara. Her pride is humbled; and this very night
I mean to visit her.
Don J. Will you serenade her?
Lara. No music! no more music!
Don L. Why not music?
It softens many hearts.
Lara. Not in the humor
She now is in. Music would madden her.
Don J. Try golden cymbals.
Don L. 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! O nevermore henceforth
Shall mortal lips press thine; and nevermore
A mortal name be whispered in thine ear.
Go! keep my secret!
(Drinks and dashes the goblet down.)
Don J. Ite! missa est!
(Scene closes.)
SCENE X. — Street and garden wall. Night. Enter CRUZADO and
BARTOLOME.
Cruz. 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.
Bart. Why not?
Cruz. Because she is not at home.
Bart. No matter; we can wait. But how is this? The gate is
bolted. (Sound of guitars and voices in a neighboring street.)
Hark! There comes her