Vict.  You are disarmed.  I will not kill you. 
I will not murder you.  Take up your sword.

(Francisco hands the count his sword, and Hypolito interposes.)

Hyp.  Enough!  Let it end here!  The Count of Lara
Has shown himself a brave man, and Victorian
A generous one, as ever.  Now be friends. 
Put up your swords; for, to speak frankly to you,
Your cause of quarrel is too slight a thing
To move you to extremes.

Lara.  I am content,
I sought no quarrel.  A few hasty words,
Spoken in the heat of blood, have led to this.

  Vict.  Nay, something more than that.

Lara.  I understand you. 
Therein I did not mean to cross your path. 
To me the door stood open, as to others. 
But, had I known the girl belonged to you,
Never would I have sought to win her from you. 
The truth stands now revealed; she has been false
To both of us.

  Vict.  Ay, false as hell itself!

Lara.  In truth, I did not seek her; she sought me;
And told me how to win her, telling me
The hours when she was oftenest left alone.

Vict.  Say, can you prove this to me?  O, pluck out
These awful doubts, that goad me into madness! 
Let me know all! all! all!

Lara.  You shall know all. 
Here is my page, who was the messenger
Between us.  Question him.  Was it not so,
Francisco?

  Fran.  Ay, my lord.

Lara.  If further proof
Is needful, I have here a ring she gave me.

  Vict.  Pray let me see that ring!  It is the same!

(Throws it upon the ground, and tramples upon it.)

Thus may she perish who once wore that ring! 
Thus do I spurn her from me; do thus trample
Her memory in the dust!  O Count of Lara,
We both have been abused, been much abused! 
I thank you for your courtesy and frankness. 
Though, like the surgeon’s hand, yours gave me pain,
Yet it has cured my blindness, and I thank you. 
I now can see the folly I have done,
Though ’t is, alas! too late.  So fare you well! 
To-night I leave this hateful town forever. 
Regard me as your friend.  Once more farewell!

  Hyp.  Farewell, Sir Count.

   [Exeunt Victorian and Hypolito.

Lara.  Farewell! farewell! farewell!  Thus have I cleared the field of my worst foe!  I have none else to fear; the fight is done, The citadel is stormed, the victory won!

[Exit with Francisco.

Scene VII. —­ A lane in the suburbs.  Night.  Enter Cruzado and
Bartolome.

Cruz.  And so, Bartolome, the expedition failed.  But where wast thou for the most part?

  Bart.  In the Guadarrama mountains, near San Ildefonso.

Cruz.  And thou bringest nothing back with thee?  Didst thou rob no one?