Henry Longfellow - The Complete Poetical Works of Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

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. O, recall the time

When we were children! how we played together,

How we grew up together; how we plighted

Our hearts unto each other, even in childhood!

Fulfil thy promise, for the hour has come.

I'm hunted from the kingdom, like a wolf!

Fulfil thy promise.

Prec. 'T was my father's promise.

Not mine. I never gave my heart to thee,

Nor promised thee my hand!

Bart. False tongue of woman!

And heart more false!

Prec. Nay, listen unto me.

I will speak frankly. I have never loved thee;

I cannot love thee. This is not my fault,

It is my destiny. Thou art a man

Restless and violent. What wouldst thou with me,

A feeble girl, who have not long to live,

Whose heart is broken? Seek another wife,

Better than I, and fairer; and let not

Thy rash and headlong moods estrange her from thee.

Thou art unhappy in this hopeless passion,

I never sought thy love; never did aught

To make thee love me. Yet I pity thee,

And most of all I pity thy wild heart,

That hurries thee to crimes and deeds of blood,

Beware, beware of that.

Bart. For thy dear sake

I will be gentle. Thou shalt teach me patience.

Prec. Then take this farewell, and depart in peace.

Thou must not linger here.

Bart. Come, come with me.

Prec. Hark! I hear footsteps.

Bart. I entreat thee, come!

Prec. Away! It is in vain.

Bart. Wilt thou not come?

Prec. Never!

Bart. Then woe, eternal woe, upon thee!

Thou shalt not be another's. Thou shalt die.

[Exit.

Prec. All holy angels keep me in this hour!

Spirit of her who bore me, look upon me!

Mother of God, the glorified, protect me!

Christ and the saints, be merciful unto me!

Yet why should I fear death? What is it to die?

To leave all disappointment, care, and sorrow,

To leave all falsehood, treachery, and unkindness,

All ignominy, suffering, and despair,

And be at rest forever! O dull heart,

Be of good cheer! When thou shalt cease to beat,

Then shalt thou cease to suffer and complain!

(Enter VICTORIAN and HYPOLITO behind.)

Vict. 'T is she! Behold, how beautiful she stands

Under the tent-like trees!

Hyp. A woodland nymph!

Vict. I pray thee, stand aside. Leave me.

Hyp. Be wary.

Do not betray thyself too soon.

Vict. (disguising his voice). Hist! Gypsy!

Prec. (aside, with emotion).

That voice! that voice from heaven! O speak again!

Who is it calls?

Vict. A friend.

Prec. (aside). 'T is he! 'T is he!

I thank thee, Heaven, that thou hast heard my prayer,

And sent me this protector! Now be strong,

Be strong, my heart! I must dissemble here.

False friend or true?

Vict. A true friend to the true;

Fear not; come hither. So; can you tell fortunes?

Prec. Not in the dark. Come nearer to the fire.

Give me your hand. It is not crossed, I see.

Vict. (putting a piece of gold into her hand). There is the

cross.

Prec. Is 't silver?

Vict. No, 't is gold.

Prec. There's a fair lady at the Court, who loves you,

And for yourself alone.

Vict. Fie! the old story!

Tell me a better fortune for my money;

Not this old woman's tale!

Prec. You are passionate;

And this same passionate humor in your blood

Has marred your fortune. Yes; I see it now;

The line of life is crossed by many marks.

Shame! shame! O you have wronged the maid who loved you!

How could you do it?

Vict. I never loved a maid;

For she I loved was then a maid no more.

Prec. How know you that?

Vict. A little bird in the air

Whispered the secret.

Prec. There, take back your gold!

Your hand is cold, like a deceiver's hand!

There is no blessing in its charity!

Make her your wife, for you have been abused;

And you shall mend your fortunes, mending hers.

Vict. (aside). How like an angel's speaks the tongue of woman,

When pleading in another's cause her own!

That is a pretty ring upon your finger.

Pray give it me. (Tries to take the ring.)

Prec. No; never from my hand

Shall that be taken!

Vict. Why, 't is but a ring.

I'll give it back to you; or, if I keep it,

Will give you gold to buy you twenty such.

Prec. Why would you have this ring?

Vict. A traveller's fancy,

A whim, and nothing more. I would fain keep it

As a memento of the Gypsy camp

In Guadarrama, and the fortune-teller

Who sent me back to wed a widowed maid.