working a scarf. A bird singing in its cage. The Count of Lara
enters behind unperceived._
_Pre._ Thou little prisoner in a motley coat,
That from thy vaulted, wiry dungeon singest,
Like thee I am a captive. In my cage
Imprisoned, bound with silken bands I stay,
And my heart sings in its captivity.
Would’st thou away? Is a grass-woven nest,
That swings among green boughs, a better home?
My cradle swung under the swinging forest,
As well as thine. We will go back together.
Dolores!
(_Turning to lay her work down, perceives the Count._)
Ha!
_Lara._ Fair lady, pardon me!
_Pre._ How’s this? Dolores!
_Lara._ Pardon me—
_Pre._ Dolores!
_Lara._ Be not alarmed; I found no one in waiting.
If I have been too bold—
_Pre._ (_turning her back upon him._) You are too bold!
Retire! retire, and leave me!
_Lara._ My dear lady,
First hear me! I beseech you, let me speak!
’Tis for your good I come.
_Pre._ (_turning towards him with indignation._) Begone! begone!
What means this outrage? What gives you the right
Thus to insult an unprotected woman?
You are the Count of Lara, but your deeds
Would make the statues of your ancestors
Blush on their tombs! Is it Castilian honor
To outrage thus the honor of a maid?
Is it Castilian pride to steal in here
Upon a friendless girl, to do her wrong?
O shame! shame! shame! that you, a nobleman,
Should have so base a soul!
_Lara._ I pray you, hear me!
_Pre._ Should be so little noble in your thoughts
As to send jewels here to win my love,
And think to buy my honor with your gold
As you would buy food in the market place!
I have no words to tell you how I scorn you!
Begone! The sight of you is hateful to me!
Begone, I say!
_Lara._ Be calm; I will not harm you.
_Pre._ Because you dare not.
_Lara._ I dare anything!
Therefore beware! You are deceived in me.
In this false world we do not always know
Who are our friends and who our enemies.
We all have enemies, and all need friends.
Even you, fair Preciosa, here at court,
Have foes, who seek to wrong you.
_Pre._ If to this
I owe the honor of the present visit,
You might have spared the coming. Having spoken,
Once more, I beg you, leave me to myself.
_Lara._ I thought it but a friendly part to tell you
What strange reports are current here in town.
For my own self I do not credit them;
But there are many who, not knowing you,
Will lend a readier ear.
_Pre._ There was no need
That you should take upon yourself the duty
Of telling me these tales.
_Lara._ Malicious tongues
Are ever busy with your name.
_Pre._ (_in some agitation._) Alas!
I’ve no protectors here. I’m a poor girl,
Exposed to insults and unfeeling jests.
They wound me, yet I cannot shield myself.
I give no cause for these reports. I live
Retired; am visited by none.
_Lara._ By none?
O then indeed you are much wrong’d.
_Pre._ How mean you?
_Lara._ Nay, nay; I will not wound your gentle soul
By the report of idle tales.
_Pre._ Speak out!
What are these idle tales? You need not spare me.
_Lara._ I will deal frankly with you. Pardon me;
This window, as I think, looks towards the street,
And this into the Prado, does it not?
In yon high house, beyond the garden wall—
You see the roof there just above the trees—
There lives a friend, who told me yesterday,
That on a certain night—be not offended
If I too plainly speak—he saw a man
Climb to your chamber window. You are silent!
I would not blame you, being young and fair—
(_He tries to take her hand. She starts back and draws a dagger from
her bosom._)
_Pre._ Beware! beware! I am a gipsy girl!
Lay not your hand upon me. One step nearer
And I will strike!
_Lara._ Pray you put up that dagger.
Fear not.
_Pre._ I do not fear. I have a heart
In whose strength I can trust!
_Lara._ Listen to me.
I come here as your friend—I am your friend—
And by a single word, can put a stop
To all those idle tales, and make your name
As spotless as the falling snow.
(_Victorian enters behind._)
I love you,
Fair Preciosa! and will save your honor!
Give me some sign I do not love in vain!
Give me some token—but one word of promise—
Let me but kiss your hand!
_Pre._ Avaunt! avaunt!
O save me from this demon!
(_Rushes towards Victorian, who repulses her._)
_Vic._ Count of Lara!
What means this outrage?
_Lara._ First, what right have you
To question thus a nobleman of Spain?
_Vic._ I too am noble, and you are no more!
Out of my sight!
_Lara._ Are you the master here?
_Vic._ Aye, here and elsewhere, where the wrong of others
Gives me the right!
_Pre._ (_to Lara._) Go! I beseech you, go!
_Vic._ I shall have business with you, count, anon!
_Lara._ You cannot come too soon! [_Exit._
_Pre._ Victorian!
O we have been betray’d!
_Vic._ Ha! ha! betrayed!
’Tis I have been betrayed, not we!—not we!
_Pre._ Dost thou imagine—
_Vic._ I imagine nothing;
I see how ’tis thou whilest the time away
When I am gone!
_Pre._ O speak not in that tone!
It wounds me deeply.
_Vic._ ’Twas not meant to flatter.
_Pre._ Too well thou knowest the presence of that man
Is hateful to me!
_Vic._ Yet I saw thee stand
And listen to him, when he told his love.
_Pre._ Indeed, I heard him not.
_Vic._ Indeed thou did’st!
_Pre._ Such base suspicions are unworthy of thee!
Cast them away. Be not so angry with me.
_Vic._ I am not angry; I am very calm.
_Pre._ If thou wilt let me speak—
_Vic._ Nay, say no more.
I know too much already. Thou art false!
I do not like these gipsy marriages!
Where is the ring I gave thee?
_Pre._ In my casket.
_Vic._ There let it rest! I would not have thee wear it!
I thought thee spotless, and thou art polluted!
_Pre._ I call the Heavens to witness—
_Vic._ Nay, nay, nay!
Take not the name of Heaven upon thy lips!
They are forsworn!
_Pre._ Victorian! dear Victorian!
_Vic._ I gave up all for thee; myself, my fame,
My hopes of fortune, aye, my very soul!
And thou hast been my ruin! Now, go on!
Laugh at my folly with thy paramour,
And sitting on the Count of Lara’s knee,
Say what a poor, fond fool Victorian was!
(_He casts her from him and rushes out._)