Having spoken,

Once more I beg you, leave me to my

nearer

And I will strike !

One step

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 embrace her. She starts back, and draws a dagger from her bosom.) Prec. Beware! beware! I am a Gypsy girl!

humbled;

For your sake I will put aside all anger,

All unkind feeling, all dislike, and speak

In gentleness, as most becomes a woman, And as my heart now prompts me. I

no more

Will hate you, for all hate is painful to

me.

But if, without offending modesty And that reserve which is a woman's glory,

may speak freely, I will teach my heart To love you. Lara.

Prec.

O sweet angel!

Ay, in truth, Far better than you love yourself or me. Lara. Give me some sign of this, — the slightest token.

Let me but kiss your hand!

Prec. Nay, come no nearer. The words I utter are its sign and token.

Misunderstand me not! Be not de

ceived!

The love wherewith I love you is not such

Vict. And yet, Hypolito, we may be

wrong,

We may be over-hasty in condemning! The Count of Lara is a cursed villain. Hyp. And therefore is she cursed, loving him.

Vict. She does not love him! "Tis for gold! for gold!

Hyp. Ay, but remember, in the public streets

He shows a golden ring the Gypsy gave him,

A serpent with a ruby in its mouth.

Vict. She had that ring from me!
God! she is false !

But I will be revenged! The hour is passed.

Where stays the coward?
Hyp.
Nay, he is no coward;
A villain, if thou wilt, but not a coward.
I've seen him play with swords; it is
his pastime.

And therefore be not over-confident,
He'll task thy skill anon. Look, here

Vict. You are disarmed. I will not kill you. I will not murder you. Take up your

sword.

(FRANCISCO hands the COUNT his sword, and HYPOLITO interposes.)

Hyp. Enough! Let it end here! The Count of Lara

Has shown himself a brave man, and Victorian

A generous one, as ever. Now be friends. Put up your swords; for, to speak frankly to you,

Your cause of quarrel is too slight a thing
To move you to extremes.
Lara.

I am content. I sought no quarrel. A few hasty words, Spoken in the heat of blood, have led to

this.

Hyp. Farewell, Sir Count.

[Exeunt VICTORIAN and HYPOLITO. Lara. Farewell! farewell! farewell!

Thus have I cleared the field of my worst

I

foe !

have none else to fear; the fight is

The citadel is stormed, the victory won! done, [Exit with FRANCISCO.

SCENE VII.- A lane in the suburbs. Night. Enter CRUZADO and BARTOLOMÉ.

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

Bart. In the Guadarrama mountains, near San Ildefonso.

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

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

upon it.)

thine.