Читать книгу The Complete Poetical Works of Henry Wadsworth Longfellow - Генри Уодсуорт Лонгфелло, Doris Hayman - Страница 62

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Lara. There's nothing in this world so sweet as love,

And next to love the sweetest thing is hate!

I've learned to hate, and therefore am revenged.

A silly girl to play the prude with me!

The fire that I have kindled—

(Enter FRANCISCO.)

Well, Francisco,

What tidings from Don Juan?

Fran. Good, my lord;

He will be present.

Lara. And the Duke of Lermos?

Fran. Was not at home.

Lara. How with the rest?

Fran. I've found

The men you wanted. They will all be there,

And at the given signal raise a whirlwind

Of such discordant noises, that the dance

Must cease for lack of music.

Lara. Bravely done.

Ah! little dost thou dream, sweet Preciosa,

What lies in wait for thee. Sleep shall not close

Thine eyes this night! Give me my cloak and sword. [Exeunt.

SCENE VI. — A retired spot beyond the city gates. Enter

VICTORIAN and HYPOLITO.

Vict. O shame! O shame! Why do I walk abroad

By daylight, when the very sunshine mocks me,

And voices, and familiar sights and sounds

Cry, "Hide thyself!" O what a thin partition

Doth shut out from the curious world the knowledge

Of evil deeds that have been done in darkness!

Disgrace has many tongues. My fears are windows,

Through which all eyes seem gazing. Every face

Expresses some suspicion of my shame,

And in derision seems to smile at me!

Hyp. Did I not caution thee? Did I not tell thee

I was but half persuaded of her virtue?

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.

Vid. She does not love him! 'T is 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 he comes.

(Enter LARA followed by FRNANCISCO)

Lara. Good evening, gentlemen.

Hyp. Good evening, Count.

Lara. I trust I have not kept you long in waiting.

Vict. Not long, and yet too long. Are you prepared?

Lara. I am.

Hyp. It grieves me much to see this quarrel

Between you, gentlemen. Is there no way

Left open to accord this difference,

But you must make one with your swords?

Vict. No! none!

I do entreat thee, dear Hypolito,

Stand not between me an my foe. Too long

Our tongues have spoken. Let these tongues of steel

End our debate. Upon your guard, Sir Count.

(They fight. VICTORIAN disarms the COUNT.)

Your life is mine; and what shall now withhold me From sending your vile soul to its account?

Lara. Strike! strike!

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.

Vict. Nay, something more than that.

Lara. I understand you.

Therein I did not mean to cross your path.

To me the door stood open, as to others.

But, had I known the girl 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.