Prec.  It is an ancient saying, that the ruby
Brings gladness to the wearer, and preserves
The heart pure, and, if laid beneath the pillow,
Drives away evil dreams.  But then, alas! 
It was a serpent tempted Eve to sin.

  Vict.  What convent of barefooted Carmelites
 Taught thee so much theology?

Prec. (laying her hand upon his mouth).  Hush! hush! 
Good night! and may all holy angels guard thee!

Vict.  Good night! good night!  Thou art my guardian angel! 
I have no other saint than thou to pray to!

(He descends by the balcony.)

  Prec.  Take care, and do not hurt thee.  Art thou safe?

Vict. (from the garden). 
Safe as my love for thee!  But art thou safe? 
Others can climb a balcony by moonlight
As well as I. Pray shut thy window close;
I am jealous of the perfumed air of night
That from this garden climbs to kiss thy lips.

Prec. (throwing down her handkerchief). 
Thou silly child!  Take this to blind thine eyes. 
It is my benison!

Vict.  And brings to me
Sweet fragrance from thy lips, as the soft wind
Wafts to the out-bound mariner the breath
Of the beloved land he leaves behind.

  Prec.  Make not thy voyage long.

Vict.  To-morrow night
Shall see me safe returned.  Thou art the star
To guide me to an anchorage.  Good night! 
My beauteous star!  My star of love, good night!

  Prec.  Good night!

  Watchman (at a distance).  Ave Maria Purissima!

Scene IV. —­ An inn on the road to Alcala. 
Baltasar asleep on a bench.  Enter Chispa.

Chispa.  And here we are, halfway to Alcala, between cocks and midnight.  Body o’ me! what an inn this is!  The lights out, and the landlord asleep.  Hola! ancient Baltasar!

  Bal. (waking).  Here I am.

Chispa.  Yes, there you are, like a one-eyed Alcalde in a town without inhabitants.  Bring a light, and let me have supper.

  Bal.  Where is your master?

Chispo.  Do not trouble yourself about him.  We have stopped a moment to breathe our horses; and, if he chooses to walk up and down in the open air, looking into the sky as one who hears it rain, that does not satisfy my hunger, you know.  But be quick, for I am in a hurry, and every man stretches his legs according to the length of his coverlet.  What have we here?

  Bal. (setting a light on the table).  Stewed rabbit.

Chispa (eating).  Conscience of Portalegre!  Stewed kitten, you mean!

Bal.  And a pitcher of Pedro Ximenes, with a roasted pear in it.

Chispa (drinking).  Ancient Baltasar, amigo!  You know how to cry wine and sell vinegar.  I tell you this is nothing but Vino Tinto of La Mancha, with a tang of the swine-skin.

Bal.  I swear to you by Saint Simon and Judas, it is all as I say.