Ang.  You know him, then!

Prec.  As much
As any woman may, and yet be pure. 
As you would keep your name without a blemish,
Beware of him!

Ang.  Alas! what can I do? 
I cannot choose my friends.  Each word of kindness,
Come whence it may, is welcome to the poor.

Prec.  Make me your friend.  A girl so young and fair
Should have no friends but those of her own sex. 
What is your name?

  Ang.  Angelica.

Prec.  That name
Was given you, that you might be an angel
To her who bore you!  When your infant smile
Made her home Paradise, you were her angel. 
O, be an angel still!  She needs that smile. 
So long as you are innocent, fear nothing. 
No one can harm you!  I am a poor girl,
Whom chance has taken from the public streets. 
I have no other shield than mine own virtue. 
That is the charm which has protected me! 
Amid a thousand perils, I have worn it
Here on my heart!  It is my guardian angel.

  Ang. (rising).  I thank you for this counsel, dearest lady.

  Prec.  Thank me by following it.

  Ang.  Indeed I will.

  Prec.  Pray, do not go.  I have much more to say.

  Ang.  My mother is alone.  I dare not leave her.

Prec.  Some other time, then, when we meet again. 
You must not go away with words alone.

(Gives her a purse.)

Take this.  Would it were more.

  Ang.  I thank you, lady.

Prec.  No thanks.  To-morrow come to me again. 
I dance to-night,—­perhaps for the last time. 
But what I gain, I promise shall be yours,
If that can save you from the Count of Lara.

Ang.  O, my dear lady! how shall I be grateful
For so much kindness?

Prec.  I deserve no thanks,
Thank Heaven, not me.

  Ang.  Both Heaven and you.

Prec.  Farewell. 
Remember that you come again tomorrow.

Ang.  I will.  And may the Blessed Virgin guard you,
And all good angels. [Exit.

Prec.  May they guard thee too,
And all the poor; for they have need of angels. 
Now bring me, dear Dolores, my basquina,
My richest maja dress,—­my dancing dress,
And my most precious jewels!  Make me look
Fairer than night e’er saw me!  I’ve a prize
To win this day, worthy of Preciosa!

(Enter Beltran Cruzado.)

  Cruz.  Ave Maria!

Prec.  O God! my evil genius! 
What seekest thou here to-day?

  Cruz.  Thyself,—­my child.

  Prec.  What is thy will with me?

  Cruz.  Gold! gold!

  Prec.  I gave thee yesterday; I have no more.

  Cruz.  The gold of the Busne,—­give me his gold!

  Prec.  I gave the last in charity to-day.