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!