No More Learning

"
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.

Hyp. 'T is Ovid, is it not?

Padre C. No, Cicero.

Hyp. Your Grace is right. You are the better scholar.
Now what a dunce was I to think it Ovid!
But hang me if it is not! (Aside. )

Padre C. Pass this way.
He was a very great man, was Cicero!
Pray you, go in, go in! no ceremony.
[Exeunt.


SCENE III. -- A room in the PADRE CURA'S house. Enter the PADRE
and HYPOLITO.

Padre C. So then, Senor, you come from Alcala.
I am glad to hear it. It was there I studied.

Hyp. And left behind an honored name, no doubt.
How may I call your Grace?

Padre C. Geronimo
De Santillana, at your Honor's service.

Hyp. Descended from the Marquis Santillana?
From the distinguished poet?

Padre C. From the Marquis,
Not from the poet.

Hyp. Why, they were the same.
Let me embrace you! O some lucky star
Has brought me hither! Yet once more! --once more!
Your name is ever green in Alcala,
And our professor, when we are unruly,
Will shake his hoary head, and say, "Alas!
It was not so in Santillana's time! "

Padre C. I did not think my name remembered there.

Hyp. More than remembered; it is idolized.

Padre C. Of what professor speak you?

Hyp. Timoneda.

Padre C. I don't remember any Timoneda.

Hyp. A grave and sombre man, whose beetling brow
O'erhangs the rushing current of his speech
As rocks o'er rivers hang. Have you forgotten?

Padre C. Indeed, I have. O, those were pleasant days,
Those college days! I ne'er shall see the like!
I had not buried then so many hopes!
I had not buried then so many friends!
I've turned my back on what was then before me;
And the bright faces of my young companions
Are wrinkled like my own, or are no more.
Do you remember Cueva?

Hyp. Cueva? Cueva?

Padre C. Fool that I am! He was before your time.
You're a mere boy, and I am an old man.

Hyp. I should not like to try my strength with you.

Padre C. Well, well. But I forget; you must be hungry.
Martina! ho! Martina! 'T is my niece.

(Enter MARTINA. )

Hyp. You may be proud of such a niece as that.
I wish I had a niece. Emollit mores.
(Aside. )
He was a very great man, was Cicero!
Your servant, fair Martina.

Mart. Servant, sir.

Padre C. This gentleman is hungry. See thou to it.
Let us have supper.

Mart. 'T will be ready soon.

Padre C. And bring a bottle of my Val-de-Penas
Out of the cellar. Stay; I'll go myself.
Pray you. Senor, excuse me. [Exit.

Hyp. Hist! Martina!
One word with you. Bless me I what handsome eyes!
To-day there have been Gypsies in the village.
Is it not so?

Mart. There have been Gypsies here.

Hyp. Yes, and have told your fortune.

Mart. (embarrassed). Told my fortune?

Hyp. Yes, yes; I know they did. Give me your hand.
I'll tell you what they said. They said,--they said,
The shepherd boy that loved you was a clown,
And him you should not marry. Was it not?

Mart. (surprised). How know you that?

Hyp. 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.

Hyp. So soon?

Vict. 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. )

O 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!

Hyp. 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, confiding 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.

Vict. Ay, folly,
Delusion, madness, call it what thou wilt,
I will confess my weakness,--I still love her!
Still fondly love her!

(Enter the PADRE CURA. )

Hyp. Tell us, Padre Cura,
Who are these Gypsies in the neighborhood?

Padre C. Beltran Cruzado and his crew.

Vict. Kind Heaven,
I thank thee! She is found! is found again!

Hyp.
And have they with them a pale, beautiful girl,
Called Preciosa?

Padre C. Ay, a pretty girl.
The gentleman seems moved.

Hyp. Yes, moved with hunger,
He is half famished with this long day's journey.

Padre C. Then, pray you, come this way. The supper waits.
[Exeunt.



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 master Don Carlos, the gentleman, that I, too, should lead the
life of a gentleman; should go to bed early, and get up late.
For when the abbot plays cards, what can you expect of the
friars? But, in running away from the thunder, I have run into
the lightning. Here I am in 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 glad to see you come on
dancing, padre! Pray, what's the news?

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.

(Strikes him round the legs. )

Mosq. Oh! oh! You hurt me!

Don C. Enough of this folly. Let us have horses. (Gives
money to MOSQUITO. ) It is almost dark; and we are in haste. But
tell me, has a band of Gypsies passed this way of late?

Mosq. Yes; and they are still in the neighborhood.

Don C. And where?

Mosq. Across the fields yonder, in the woods near Guadarrama.
[Exit.

Don C. Now this is lucky. We will visit the Gypsy camp.

Chispa. Are you not afraid of the evil eye? Have you a stag's
horn with you?

Don C. Fear not. We will pass the night at the village.

Chispa. And sleep like the Squires of Hernan Daza, nine under
one blanket.

Don C. I hope we may find the Preciosa among them.

Chispa. Among the Squires?

Don C. No; among the Gypsies, blockhead!

Chispa. I hope we may; for we are giving ourselves trouble
enough on her account. Don't you think so? However, there is no
catching trout without wetting one's trousers. Yonder come the
horses.
[Exeunt.



SCENE V. -- The Gypsy camp in the forest. Night. Gypsies
working at a forge. Others playing cards by the firelight.
Gypsies (at the forge sing).

On the top of a mountain I stand,
With a crown of red gold in my hand,
Wild Moors come trooping over the lea
O how from their fury shall I flee, flee, flee?
O how from their fury shall I flee?

First Gypsy (playing). Down with your John-Dorados, my pigeon.
Down with your John-Dorados, and let us make an end.

Gypsies (at the forge sing).

Loud sang the Spanish cavalier,
And thus his ditty ran;
God send the Gypsy lassie here,
And not the Gypsy man.

First Gypsy (playing). There you are in your morocco!

Second Gypsy. One more game. The Alcalde's doves against the
Padre Cura's new moon.

First Gypsy. Have at you, Chirelin.

Gypsies (at the forge sing).

At midnight, when the moon began
To show her silver flame,
There came to him no Gypsy man,
The Gypsy lassie came.

(Enter BELTRAN CRUZADO. )

Cruz. Come hither, Murcigalleros and Rastilleros; leave work,
leave play; listen to your orders for the night. (Speaking to
the right. ) You will get you to the village, mark you, by the
stone cross.

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!

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

Gypsies. Ay! ay!

Cruz. Away, then!

(Exeunt severally. CRUZADO walks up the stage, and disappears
among the trees. Enter PRECIOSA. )

Prec. How strangely gleams through the gigantic trees
The red light of the forge! Wild, beckoning shadows
Stalk through the forest, ever and anon
Rising and bending with the flickering flame,
Then flitting into darkness! So within me
Strange hopes and fears do beckon to each other,
My brightest hopes giving dark fears a being
As the light does the shadow. Woe is me
How still it is about me, and how lonely!

(BARTOLOME rushes in. )

Bart. Ho! Preciosa!

Prec. O Bartolome!
Thou here?

Bart. Lo! I am here.

Prec. Whence comest thou?

Bart. From the rough ridges of the wild Sierra,
From caverns in the rocks, from hunger, thirst,
And fever! Like a wild wolf to the sheepfold.
Come I for thee, my lamb.

Prec. O touch me not!
The Count of Lara's blood is on thy hands!
The Count of Lara's curse is on thy soul!
Do not come near me! Pray, begone from here
Thou art in danger! They have set a price
Upon thy head!

Bart. Ay, and I've wandered long
Among the mountains; and for many days
Have seen no human face, save the rough swineherd's.
The wind and rain have been my sole companions.
I shouted to them from the rocks thy name,
And the loud echo sent it back to me,
Till I grew mad. I could not stay from thee,
And I am here! Betray me, if thou wilt.

Prec. Betray thee? I betray thee?

Bart. Preciosa!
I come for thee! for thee I thus brave death!
Fly with me o'er the borders of this realm!
Fly with me!

Prec. Speak of that no more. I cannot.
I'm thine no longer.

Bart.