Leaving the negress behind, the rest all went to the saloon, where they seated themselves on a rich carpet, with Loaysa in the centre of the group.  Marialonso took a candle, and began to examine the figure of the musician from bead to foot.  Every one had something to say in his commendation:  “Oh, what a nice curly head of hair he has!” said one.  “What nice teeth!” cried another; “blanched almonds are nothing to them.”  “What eyes!” exclaimed a third; “so large and full, and so green!  By the life of my mother, they look for all the world like emeralds.”  Leonora alone said not a word; but as she looked at the maestro, she could not help thinking that he was better looking than her good man.  Presently the duena took the guitar out of the negro’s hands, and putting it into Loaysa’s, begged he would sing to it a villanetta then in high fashion at Seville.  He complied; the women all jumped up, and began to dance; whilst the duena sang the words of the song with more good will than good voice.

    Close you watch me, mother mine,
      Watch me, and immure me: 
    Don’t you know without my help
      You can not secure me?

    Appetite, ’tis said with truth,
      By privation groweth;
    Thwarted love, like flame confined,
      All the fiercer gloweth. 
    Better therefore ’twere, methinks,
      You should not immure me: 
    Don’t you know without my help
      You can not secure me? 
        Close you watch me, &c.

    Moths will to the taper fly,
      Bees on flowers will cluster;
    Keep a loving maid who can
      From love’s golden lustre! 
    Fear you lest that beacon light
      From your arms should lure me? 
    Well I know without my help
      You can not secure me. 
        Close you watch me, &c.

    There’s a way where there’s a will: 
      Keep the will from straying. 
    Wayward hearts will have their fling,
      Spite of all gainsaying. 
    If you’d have me very good,
      Don’t be hard on poor me;
    Sure I am without, my help
      You can not secure me. 
        Close you watch me, &c.

The song and the dance were just ended, when in rushed Guiomar in wild affright, gesticulating as if she was in a fit, and in a voice between a croak and a whisper, she stammered out, “Master wake, senora; senora, master wake:  him getting up, and coming.”  Whoever has seen a flock of pigeons feeding tranquilly in the field, and has marked the fear and confusion with which they take flight at the terrible sound of the gun, may picture to himself the fluttering dismay of the dancers at the unexpected news blurted out by Guiomar.  Off they ran in all directions, leaving the musico in the lurch, and in a pitiable state of perplexity.  Leonora wrung her beautiful hands; and the Senora Marialonso beat her face, and tore her hair, but not with great violence.  In short, all was panic and confusion; but the duena, who had more cunning and presence of mind than the rest, directed that Loaysa should go into her own room, whilst she and her mistress remained where they were, never doubting but they should find some excuse or another to put off upon Carrizales.