Scene ii —­ A room in the ARCHBISHOP’S Palace.  The archbishop and a Cardinal seated.

Arch.  Knowing how near it touched the public morals,
And that our age is grown corrupt and rotten
By such excesses, we have sent to Rome,
Beseeching that his Holiness would aid
In curing the gross surfeit of the time,
By seasonable stop put here in Spain
To bull-fights and lewd dances on the stage. 
All this you know.

  Card.  Know and approve.

Arch.  And further,
That, by a mandate from his Holiness,
The first have been suppressed.

Card.  I trust forever. 
It was a cruel sport.

Arch.  A barbarous pastime,
Disgraceful to the land that calls itself
Most Catholic and Christian.

Card.  Yet the people
Murmur at this; and, if the public dances
Should be condemned upon too slight occasion,
Worse ills might follow than the ills we cure. 
As Panem et Circenses was the cry
Among the Roman populace of old,
So Pan y Toros is the cry in Spain. 
Hence I would act advisedly herein;
And therefore have induced your Grace to see
These national dances, ere we interdict them.

(Enter a Servant)

Serv.  The dancing-girl, and with her the musicians
Your Grace was pleased to order, wait without.

Arch.  Bid them come in.  Now shall your eyes behold
In what angelic, yet voluptuous shape
The Devil came to tempt Saint Anthony.

(Enter Preciosa, with a mantle thrown over her head.  She advances slowly, in modest, half-timid attitude.)

Card. (aside).  O, what a fair and ministering angel
Was lost to heaven when this sweet woman fell!

Prec. (kneeling before the archbishop). 
I have obeyed the order of your Grace. 
If I intrude upon your better hours,
I proffer this excuse, and here beseech
Your holy benediction.

Arch.  May God bless thee,
And lead thee to a better life.  Arise.

Card. (aside).  Her acts are modest, and her words discreet! 
I did not look for this!  Come hither, child. 
Is thy name Preciosa?

  Prec.  Thus I am called.

  Card.  That is a Gypsy name.  Who is thy father?

  Prec.  Beltran Cruzado, Count of the Cales.

Arch.  I have a dim remembrance of that man: 
He was a bold and reckless character,
A sun-burnt Ishmael!

Card.  Dost thou remember
Thy earlier days?

Prec.  Yes; by the Darro’s side
My childhood passed.  I can remember still
The river, and the mountains capped with snow
The village, where, yet a little child,
I told the traveller’s fortune in the street;
The smuggler’s horse, the brigand and the shepherd;
The march across the moor; the halt at noon;
The red fire of the evening camp, that lighted
The forest where we slept; and, further back,
As in a dream or in some former life,
Gardens and palace walls.