Pedro C. Good reasons, good, substantial reasons all!

No matter for the other ninety-five. They should be burnt, I see it plain enough,

They should be burnt.

(Enter VICTORIAN and HYPOLITO playing.) Padre C. And pray, whom have we here?

Pedro C. More vagrants! By Saint

Lazarus, more vagrants! Hyp. Good evening, gentlemen! Is this Guadarrama ? Padre C. Yes, Guadarrama, and good evening to you.

Hyp. We seek the Padre Cura of the village;

And, judging from your dress and reverend mien,

You must be he. Padre C.

I am. Pray, what's

your pleasure?

Padre C. (joyfully). Ay, know it, and have worn it.

Pedro C. (aside). Soup-eaters! by the mass! The worst of vagrants ! And there's no law against them. Sir, your servant. [Exit. Padre C. Your servant, Pedro Crespo. Нур. Padre Cura, From the first moment I beheld your face, I said within myself, "This is the man!" There is a certain something in your looks,

A certain scholar-like and studious some

thing,

You understand, — which cannot be mistaken;

Which marks you as a very learned man,
In fine, as one of us.
Vict. (aside).

What impudence! Hyp. As we approached, I said to my companion,

"That is the Padre Cura; mark my words!" Meaning your Grace. "The other man,"

said I, "Who sits so awkwardly upon the bench, Must be the sacristan.' Padre C.

Ah! said you so? Why, that was Pedro Crespo, the alcalde !

Hyp. Indeed! you much astonish me !

His air

Was not so full of dignity and grace
As an alcalde's should be.

Padre C.
That is true.
He's out of humor with some vagrant
Gypsies,

Who have their camp here in the neighborhood.

There's nothing so undignified as anger. Hyp. The Padre Cura will excuse our boldness,

If, from his well-known hospitality,
We crave a lodging for the night.
Padre C.

I pray you You do me honor! I am but too happy To have such guests beneath my humble roof.

It is not often that I have occasion
To speak with scholars; and Emollit

mores,

Nec sinit esse feros, Cicero says.

Mart. (surprised). How know you that?

Нур. O, I know more than that. What a soft, little hand! And then they said,

A cavalier from court, handsome, and tall And rich, should come one day to marry you,

And you should be a lady. Was it not? He has arrived, the handsome cavalier. Tries to kiss her. She runs off. Enter VICTORIAN, with a letter.)

Vict. The muleteer has come.

Нур. Vict.

So soon?

I found him Sitting at supper by the tavern door, And, from a pitcher that he held aloft His whole arm's length, drinking the blood-red wine.

Hyp. What news from Court?
Vict. He brought this letter only.
(Reads.)

U cursed perfidy: Why did I let
That lying tongue deceive me! Preciosa,
Sweet Preciosa! how art thou avenged!
Hyp. What news is this, that makes
thy cheek turn pale,
And thy hand tremble?

Vict.
O, most infamous !
The Count of Lara is a worthless villain !
Hyp. That is no news, forsooth.
Vict.
He strove in vain
To steal from me the jewel of my soul,
The love of Preciosa. Not succeeding,
He swore to be revenged; and set on foot
A plot to ruin her, which has succeeded.
She has been hissed and hooted from the

stage,

Her reputation stained by slanderous lies Too foul to speak of; and, once more a beggar,

She roams a wanderer over God's green
earth,
Housing with Gypsies!
Нур.

To renew again The Age of Gold, and make the shepherd

swains

Desperate with love, like Gasper Gil's
Diana.
Redit et Virgo !

Vict.
Dear Hypolito,
How have I wronged that meek, confid-
ing heart!

I will go seek for her; and with my tears
Wash out the wrong I've done her!
Hyp.
O beware!
Act not that folly o'er again.

SCENE IV. A post-house on the road to Segovia, not far from the village of Guadarrama. Enter CHISPA, cracking a whip, and singing the cachucha.

Chispa. Halloo! Don Fulano! Let us have horses, and quickly. Alas, poor Chispa! what a dog's life dost thou lead! I thought, when I left my old master Victorian, the student, to serve my new 1, too, should lead the life of a gentleman; master Don Carlos, the gentleman, that For when the abbot plays cards, what should go to bed early, and get up late. can you expect of the friars? But, in run into the lightning. Here I am in running away from the thunder, I have hot chase after my master and his Gypsy girl. And a good beginning of the week it is, as he said who was hanged on Monday morning.

(Enter DON CARLOS.)

Don C. Are not the horses ready yet?

Chispa. I should think not, for the hostler seems to be asleep. Ho! within there! Horses horses! horses! (He knocks at the gate with his whip, and enter MOSQUITO, putting on his jacket.)

Mosq. Pray, have a little patience. I'm not a musket.

Chispa. Health and pistareens! I'm

Mosq. You cannot have fresh horses; because there are none. Chispa. Cachiporra! Throw that bone to another dog. Do I look like your aunt?

Mosq. No; she has a beard.
Chispa. Go to! go to!

Mosq. Are you from Madrid?

Chispa. Yes; and going to Estramadura. Get us horses.

Mosq. What's the news at Court? Chispa. Why, the latest news is, that I am going to set up a coach, and I have already bought the whip.

Gypsies. Ay !

Cruz. (to the left). And you, by the pole with the hermit's head upon it. Gypsies. Ay !

Cruz. As soon as you see the planets are out, in with you, and be busy with the ten commandments, under the sly, and Saint Martin asleep. D'ye hear? Gypsies. Ay!

if you see a goblin or a papagayo, take Cruz. Keep your lanterns open, and, to your trampers. Vineyards and DanAm I comprecing John is the word.

hended?

How still it is about me, and how lonely!

(BARTOLOMÉ rushes in.)

Bart. Ho! Preciosa!

Prec. Thou here?

Fulfil thy promise.

Lo! I am here. Whence comest thou? Bart. From the rough ridges of the wild Sierra,

From caverns in the rocks, from hunger,

thirst,