lfe>t^ u ^ = ^ ,- u — _^^^^^^^M 3 =^ = H = i- 5 ^ S TI' h ^ '■ h = I- 4 ^ = Z- H ' THE LIBRARY OF THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LOS ANGELES <^^ M r LO G RO N O / LOGRONO a JKctric Qiaiua in €tuo Stts BY FREDERICK CERNY WITH TWENTY-NINE ILLUSTRATIONS By T. WALTER WILSON HonUotl: MARCUS WARD & CO., 67 & 68, CHANDOS STREET And royal ULSTER WORKS, BELFAST 1877 [All Jiig/its Reserved.] TK LOGRONO. A METRIC DRAMA IN TWO ACTS. Alvarez in Act I. a Student of Logrono. „ in Act II. an Alchemist. Rea in Act I. Daughter of the Queen of the Gypsies „ in Act II. Queen of the Gypsies. Pepita in Act I. Queen of the Gypsies. Pedro in Act II. a former friend of Alvarez. Salazar in Act II. Son of Alvarez and Eea. The Count of Logrono. The Alcalde of Logrono. Courtiers. Burghers. A Friar. A Charlatan. Peasants, Flower Girls, Etc. Twenty years elapse hetween the First and Second Acts. ^^Picr^q N O T E For the story on which the following Drama is based, you are asked to look to the Gypsies of Spain, by George Borrow (Third Edition, chap, iii,, called the " Bookseller of Logrono"). FEEDEEICK CEENY. L O G R O N O ACT I. SCENE I. The Marhet-xilace of Logroiio, a little before sunset. A Fair. Priests, Peasants, Conjurors, ^c. Market Girls selling flowers. Eea and Pepita. The Count and Courtiers. Choruses of Market Girls. Chorus I. Fair flowers ! sweet flowers ! Fresh flowers, kind lady, To plant in your bowers, So fragrant and shady. B 10 LOGRONO. Violets of blushing blue, Fresh from the brake ; Lilies of waxen hue From the still lake. Chorus II. Housewife and matron, See ! here for you Are blossoms of citron, With myrtle and rue,' Here is the laurel, The sage, and the lime. The olive and sorrel. The sweet-scented thyme Charlatan. Behold ! the magic topaz ring, Which doth fame and honour bring. Wear this ring upon your hand, Earth shall be at your command. You who would be great and high, Seize the happy chance and buy ! Friar. Vanity ! vanity ! there is no fame In odour can vie with a pious man's name. Charlatan. Here 's the stone may now be bought Which sages have long ages sought : LOGRONO. 11 Of which one single rub 's enough To turn to gold the basest stuff. Lo ! this piece of worthless lead Is changed to gold of purest red. Would you roll in luxury, Seize the happy chance and buy ! Friar. Vanity ! vanity ! riches are naught, Unless to the care of the Church they are brought. Charlatan. What is honour ? what is gold To this liquid which I hold, Of potent virtues manifold ? Wrought in most propitious hour. When the waning moon has power, From the rare Arabian flower. A single drop upon the tongue Makes the oldest grey-beard young. You, then, who would never die, Seize the happy chance and buy ! Friar. Vanity ! vanity ! life is a load. Unless good Saint Peter has shown you the road. Charlatan. Here 's the famed Egyptian glass. In which he who buys may view 12 LOGRONO. All things which shall come to pass, Mirror'd faithfully and true. Absent faces may be seen, ThiniTS which are and which have been. Here a maid may clearly see Who her future lord shall be. Here old age may learn the day When his breath shall pass away. Any place in any clime Here is seen. Seize, then, the time, Ere the chance for ever pass. Buy ! buy ! buy my magic glass. Friak. Vanity ! vanity ! Children, give heed ! LOGRONO. 13 From me you may purchase rich treasures indeed : Stones which the blessed Saint Stephanus slew ; Tears of the Virgin, which quickly can cure Each ill of the spirit or bodily sore ; Here 's a nail from the Ark ; the last chip of the cross ; Leaves of a palm that in Golgotha grew ; From Anthony's cavern here 's ever-fresh moss ; Pardons for all the misdeeds you have done, As well as for those which you ever can do ; Nails of the saints, strung together as beads ; Teeth of the Fathers who martyrdom won ; An image which every high holiday bleeds. \Tlic Peasants buy.] Go forth abroad ! the Holy Land redeem, Which heathen nations trample on in scorn ! Wrest from the infidel the sacred beam, The knotted scourge and the sharp crown of thorn. Ye princes, sell your castles and your lands ; Merchants, your argosies upon the flood. Eescue the types of peace from heathen hands, And wash them clean in unbeliever's blood. Leave palace, cottage ; leave ye sire and wife ! Gird up your loins for this heaven-favour 'd strife ! Charlatan. H'st ! hist ! a word apart ! 14 LOGRONO. Friak. This way, my son ; with all my heart ! Charlatan. Most reverend Father, in your store You have the Virgin's tears to cure All kinds of maladies, I think ? Friar. 'Tis this, my son ; you 've but to drink Some thirty drops, and straight you 11 feel A glow of health from heel to heel. Charlatan. Here, then, is gold I Friar. Gold so well spent Is gold not lost, but only lent. But give me of your crystal clear. Wherein all future things appear ! Charlatan. Behold ! Friar. Here 's gold ! Charlatan. And gold gets gold. As heat gets heat and cold gets cold. \Thcy separate.] LOGRONO. 15 Chorus of Market Girls. Chorus I. and II. Buy our sweet roses, Breathing perfume ! Buy our pale lilies, FraOTant in bloom ! For sages the roots are, Of magical powers ; For housewives the fruits are. For lovers the flowers. How poor is the palace Where flowers are not ! But, graced by their chalice, How rich is the cot ! Pluck'd in the morning, The dew on them hung As bright as the dawning Of love on the young. IG LOGRONO. Hid from day's glances, Away in the shade, Like half-conscious fancies Of some bashful maid, They closed to the noonbeams Each treasure of bliss, To open to moonbeam's Sweet passionate kiss. Cherish, protect them, Their smile shall repay ; Scorn them, reject them. They wither away. Eea. My mother ! let us leave this noisy scene : My heart is faint. Why did we quit the silence of the woods. And the sweet scent Of the gem-sprinkled meadows ? Let us go ! Pepita. Stay, daughter, yet awhile ! To-day I must win gold. Eea. Nay, I beseech thee, mother, come away ! There is a man, LOGRONO. 17 Gaudily dressed, who follows all our steps. Where'er I turn, His eyes are on me with a hateful glance ; And at his side Companions laugh, and point, and urge him on. Pepita. Ah ! let me see the fool. Why, daughter, 'tis the Count ! The sickly pale-faced cur. Dare he to lift his eyes In rudeness on my child ? They say his will is law. 'Tis well for Spanish dogs. But, daughter, thou art right : Let us depart in haste ! Count. Now, by my faith, as I 'm a gentleman. Yon is the brightest wench we 've seen to-day. Look at her carriage ! it is like a queen's ; Nay, queens we wot of are not half as straight; While on her head, for regal diadem. Are wound the rich dark masses of her hair. \st Courtier. Ah ! well enough ! yes, doubtless, well enough ! But, for my taste, a shade too swarthy too. c 18 LOGRONO. Count. Yourself are half a -Moor. Of course your rage Is all for blonde-haired beauties, golden Goths. Would she but lift her eyes, methink their fire Would light her darkness as the stars the night. 2nd Courtier. She seems to know that you regard her, Count, And keeps her eyes on the less ardent earth. Count. Yes, well I know their pretty bashful ways. These artful witches ! and the wiles and lures With which they chain us while they feign to shun. It were a crying scandal and a shame To let her pine and wait and watch alone. Let me go smell this darkly blushing rose. 2>rd Courtier. Pardon, my lord ! I would not spoil your sport ; But this young witch is half a witch indeed. Nay, more, if what I hear be soothly said. That strange old wizened creature at her side Is the true queen of witches ; and the child Is her sole daughter. Count. I take thee not ; be plain ! 2>rd Courtier. There is a tribe of vagrants lately come LOGRONO. 10 Into these parts ; but whence or why they came No one can tell. Some say from Egypt's plains ; Some, from Bohemia. Some do even affirm That they are of the tribes of Israel lost. This much is certain, that their private speech Is an outlandish jargon of their own. But stranger still their lives ! In woods and glens They lurk, and live like Arabs under tents. The men are jockeys, blacksmiths, tinkers, thieves ; The women witches, fortune-tellers, thieves. Count. 'Tis strange 1 I '11 speak with them. Await me here. I see they move away. \Crosses over.] Count. Good evening, mother ! Pepita. Give thee good evening, Count. Count. I see you know my rank. Pepita. ~ 'Mongst other things Count. As what ? Pepita. Your nature. 20 LOGRONO. Count. Ha ! that is well ; ray nature 's good, they say. Pepita. As is an owl's, that drones away the day. But ask the little birds if he be good, Whom he despoils in farmyard and in wood. Count to Era. Believe it not ! I 'm not so bad, fair maid ; My claws are velvet when I 'm not gainsaid. Then, if you like, I can be harsh indeed. Pepita. Threaten the cowards who your threatenings heed. Count. Methinks that few can boast they do not fear ]\Iv anger. Pepita. True ! but two of them are here. Count. Enough ! What do ye in the fair to-day ? Pepita. Tell fools their fortunes ; that is, fools who pay. Count. I '11 take thy " fool " if thou wilt take my gold. Now thou art paid, my fortune must be told. LOGRONO. 21 Pepita. Lend me thy hand ! Seest thou this line of life So deep and smooth ? That tells of little strife And much uf pleasure. Ha ! take back thy liand, Take back thy oold : Count. Continue, I command ! Pepita. Take back thy gold, I say ! I dare not read Thy fortune farther. Count. I bid thee still proceed 22 LOGRONO. PEriTA. A bloody death cuts short thy middle course ; No time is there for sorrow or remorse. Count. Peace, wretched hag ! else shalt thou straight be bound And stoned for sorcery, or burnt, or drown'd. Pepita. The raven scorns the owl. My daughter, come ! To please a fool one must be knave or dumb. Count. Thou hast a nimble tongue. 'Tis well for thee Thou hast a lovely child, if thine she be ; 1 11 take the payment for thy saucy speech From her sweet lips, a separate fine from each. Pepita. Stand back, I warn thee ; or the doom I read I shall myself fulfil and strike thee dead. See how he quakes ! this hero with his brag, At an old woman's arm, " a wretched hao'." My daughter, come ! nor fear the man who fears Both present death and fate of future years. [Rea and Pepita Imrnj off.] [Count crosses hack to his companions.] LOGRONO. 23 \st Courtier. Well, Count ! iiiethinks thy suing went amiss ; Thy Queen seeniM loath to have thy honiaged kiss And tlie Queen Mother, if I judged aright, Look'd on thy wooing in no ])leasant light. Count. Now, by my countly word, I '11 let her know She dare not treat a Spanish noble so. Come ye with me, pursue this arrant witch ; Burnt shall she be, and buried in a ditch, Her daugliter be my mistress for a day ; Then he who lists may have her. Come away 1 SCENE II. An open forest-glade a few miles from Logroho. Early night. Moonlight. Alvarez and Peasants. Tlie older Peasants are seated round the younger, loho dance and sing. Peasants dance and siyig. Sound the shrill pipe and the cheery-voiced horn ! Castanets rattle ! and strike the loud tabor ! Wake the rad blush of the dew-laden morn ! They only know leisure who earn it with labour. Swift o'er the mead Our nimble feet glancing, The night-hours shall speed With music and dancing. LOGRONO. 25 Stars, high above, Our own hearts resemble ; In joy and in love They glow and they tremble. Round on the sod, Old folks on the daisies Murmur and nod And whisper our praises. Feeble are they, And dimm'd are their glances ; They think of the day They led the swift dances. Silent in dreams All nature rejoices, Bathed in moonbeams And luU'd by our voices. Cloudlet with shade The meadow may cover ; There's light in the glade Enough for the lover. Bright though the skies Hang glittering o'er us. Brighter the eyes That are dancing before us. Rise, echo, arise ! And join in the chorus. 26 LOGRONO. Sound the shrill ])ipe and the cheery- voiced horn ! Castanets rattle ! and strike the loud tabor ! Wake tlie red blush of the dew-laden morn 1 They only know leisure who earn it w^th labour. Enter Rea and Pepita hurriedly. Eea. I can no further, mother : I am faint. Let us, I pray thee, rest awhile amidst This villaLie festival. Mothers are here And happy maidens. There are fathers here Who will not see two hapless women wrong'd. It is so far unto our tented home. And much I dread the men who dog our steps, But wait a lonelier road to do us harm. Pepita. If these w^ere gypsies we were safe indeed. But trust them not ; it is a coward race. Yet, since no refuge offers in our strait. Do thou bide here and mingle with the dance, "While I — a murrain on these feeble limbs ! — • Press onward to our people in the camp And summon help to whip the curs away. \Goes.'\ Eea. [Aside.] How strangely sound these tones of revelry, These murmuring notes of peaceful happiness, LOGROiSro. 27 Unto a bosom full of anxious thoughts. I feel as must the over-hunted deer, Whicli seeks a refuge from the cruel chase Amidst the farmyard denizens. Alas ! Perchance as groundless is my hope to hide As is the hart's among the low-neck'd kine ; Perchance are these as impotent to shield From thieaten'd ill, as are the timorous sheep To dare the dogs that bay the panting deer. \I)raw8 her dagger from her bosom and replaces it.] One friend have I which the poor brute has not, A friend who will not fail me at my need. Alvarez. [Approaches.] Pardon me, maiden, if I 'm overbold ! Nor deem it rudeness that I thus intrude Upon your presence. But you seem alone. 28 LOGRO^O. And, as I judge from dress and other signs, A stranger to these parts. Is there, then, aught- Trust me, I ask it in all courtesy — Wherein I can but serve you ? Do not pause, But be assured it were a generous act To bid me be the servant of your will. Eea. I thank you truly for your kindness, sir ; But Heaven forbid that I should want your aid. Alvakez. Nay ! that 's unkind, an undeserv'd rebuke. Believe me, too, that I had said the same Even to the oldest ugliest woman here. If I had thought that my poor services Might be required, even as I spoke to you Who 'tis no flattery to say are fair. Eea. Forgive me, gentle sir. That, in my trouble, I weigh'd not my words. I would have said, the only help I lack May be of such a kind that I would fain It were not render'd, even for both our sakes. Alvarez. Speak it, I pray you, and my arm is yours; LOGRONO. 29 For I am sure as that a heaven 's above 'Tis naught that misbeseems a gentleman. Eea. Briefly, then, thus. My mother and myself Were in Logrono's market-place to-day, Where we were used with insult and abuse ; And, as we left and hurried on our way, We were pursued. So, by the greatest haste, By turning through the woodland's devious ways, Known to my mother better than to them Who dogg'd our footsteps, are we hither come. My mother left me to seek aid at home : My only hope is here to hide unfound. Alvakez. It was a shameful and a dastard act ! Learnt you the name of him who used you so ? Eea. His name I heard not : he was called the Count. Alvarez. Ha! Eea. Why do you start and darkly knit your brows ? Alvarez. 'Tis nothing, nothing ! 30 LOGRONO. \Aside?[ A serious matter too ; For well, I wot, these cow'd and armless hinds Will scarcely stand the brunt of flashing steel. Eea. What do you murmur ? Is there hope for me ? Will not these peasants lift their hands to save A poor defenceless girl from cruel wrong ? Alvarez. Hope is there ever ; and one arm at least, If need be, will not fail thee. But meanwhile Eest on the sward behind this spreading tree Seeking concealment. By this fitful light The peasants will not see but thou art one Of their own number resting from the dance. Eea. [Giving her hand.] How shall I thank you for your courtesy ? To-day I thought all Spaniards were alike, And that I needs must hate you all alike ; But now [Pauses.] Alvaeez. Continue, maiden, pray • Eea. But now, but now — would that my mother came ! [Music] LOGRONO. 31 Peasants dance, and sing. Home from the river and home from the lea The sweet breathing kine are come drowsily lowing ; But this is the hour that for you, love, and me Sets the heart merrily dancing and glowing. Above, as we turn, And wheel in our dancing. The fire-tlies burn, So merrily glancing. We dance to the sound Of scraping and drumming ; They wheel in their round To chafers' low humming. The cloud dances high By the moon brightly beaming, The leaf dances by From the forest that 's dreaming e>- The streamlet, that flows With rhythmical motion, Sings as it goes Far down to the ocean. Home from the river and home from the lea The sweet breathing kine are come drowsily lowing; But this is the hour that for you, love, and me Sets the heart merrily dancing and glowing. 32 LOGRONO. Enter the Count and Courtiers. Count. Peace, noisy hounds ! Is this your loyalty ? \Miisic stops. Peasants rise, uncover, and huddle together.'] Is this the lesson I have taught ye, boors ? Does it beseem your base and brutal souls To dance and sing when your liege lord is here ? 1st Peasant. Pardon, my lord ! we knew not you were nigh. Count. Peace, dotard ! But bring forth The wretched harridan and her pretty child Who hide among you now. I say, bring forth ! 1st Peasant. My Lord ! we know of none such ; we are all Your Lordship's humble and devoted serfs. Count. Old man, you lie. They could not have escaped. 2nd Peasant. I think I saw two strangers while ago ; But now I see them not ; they must be gone. LOGRONO. 33 Count. If you do find them not Stay ! who are you, Old greybeard ? Zrd Peasant. Ninety years and odd. Count. What ! dare you mock me, man ? \8t Peasant Girl. Pardon him, gracious Lord ; my grandsire 's deaf And nearly blind. He knows you not, my lord ! Nor what he says. Have pity, noble Lord ! Count. Bring the old idiot hither. \I)raws his dagger and holds it near 3rd Peasant's face.] Seest thou this blade ? 3rd Peasant. Why aye ! aye ! aye ! 'Twas I that made the blade, As good a blade as e'er Toledo wrought. 'Twas done for you just sixty years ago, Come Whitsuntide — ah, no ! your grandsire though. When he went fighting with the swarthy Moors. A noble count, ah me ! merry withal ! I mind the day as yesterday he came Into my shop. He always had a jest E 34 LOGROJSTO. And pleasant word for poor men like myself: Said he Count. Out, cursed driveller. [Strikes Mm.'\ Seize this old fool and hind him to yon tree. \lst and 2nd Couktiees hind 3rd Peasant.] Now tell me, you who value this old life, Where are the gypsies whom you hide away ? For drop by drop his watery blood shall fall Until I find them. 1st Peasant Giel, kneeling. I do beseech thee, harm him not, my Lord ! Say 'tis a jest ; but push it not too far, Lest the last spark of his vitality. With very fright, do leave his feeble frame. LOGRONO. 35 Count. [Simrns Aer.] A forfeit ! take this puling wench away, YTo \st Courtier.] And, for your trouble, she shall be your booty. Now, once more ! Are you dumb ? Stand round me, friends, and with our dagger-points We'll soon unloose his obstinate old tongue. \Pricki him with his dagger. Rea advances from behind the tree. Count. Ha ! ha ! one bird at least is cauc;ht. [Rea cuts the cords with her knife. Rea. It shall not be. "What ! are ye men, or stones, To staiid unmoved and see this old man's blood ? ! would to heaven That I were not a weak And helpless woman, or that a man were here ! Out, paltry hinds ! Richly ye merit all The wrong and tyranny that falls on ye ; For slaves are made For stripes and bitter words, Nor ill can happen more than their desert. 36 LOGRONO. Count. Prettily mouth'd, in sooth ! Thy teaching is so sound That I should like to hear Thy lessons many times. [Rea retires up the stage.] Seize her ! and bring her back. [2nd Courtier seizes Eea.] [To Peasants.] For you, you may begone. But let this teach you, curs, Never to thwart my will, That I am like a lion Who must be lord of all. [Peasants go.] Eea. Base-blooded race ! [Shakes off 2nd Courtier.] I know not if you earn My scorn or pity most, [To Count.] But you, more cowardly still ! For that you trade upon The fears of other men. But I defy your power. LOGRONO. 37 Learn that a gypsy's hand Can set a gypsy free. Farewell, my mother dear ! Fair earth, dear life, farewell ! [Eea will stab herself ; Alvarez springs forvjard, seizes her dagger.'] Alvarez. Another sheath for thy knife Than thy innocent breast shall be found. [Draivs his sword.] [To Count and Courtiers.] Out, coward vulture brood ! Or stand and draw Uke men. What ! are four nobles here And not one gentleman ? Nay, then you have no need To wear these useless tools. [Takes sword from the Count, strikes him and drives him and Courtiers off. A pause- Eea takes Alvarez's hand.] Eea. Brave, noble friend ! my niggard tongue is mute To the rich wishes of my grateful heart. How poor is a poor maiden ! Only thanks (Though warmest, deepest) for a noble deed ! 38 LOGRONO. Alvarez. Fain would I bid thee cease, Nor shame with thanks the smallness of my deed, But that 'tis very sweet To hear the music of thy voice, and see The glow upon thy cheek As the bright glances sparkle in thine eyes. Eea. And I would thank thee still And yet again. For I do love to dwell Upon thy generous act ; LOGRONO. 39 For thus it seems sweet gratitude doth grow, And growing find excuse For its excess which so usurps my heart. Alvarez. Speak it again, sweet maid ! Say 'twas a noble, most chivalrous deed ; Say that thy heart is stirred To its most secret nook — that ne'er before Was it so deeply moved : And I will drink thy words, nor blush to hear. Eea. All this I say and more. I feel that I could almost hate a man Who did me equal deed ; For then my gratitude would, being split, Be, like a broken gem, Not half as precious as it was entire. Alvarez. And I, too ; I would hate The man who won thy gratitude — and still Would hate him even more Did he not serve thee in thy need as I. It is most wrong ; but yet The sweeetness of it doth o'ermask the wrouii. 40 LOGRONO. Eea. I hear the far sound Of my people who come to my rescue. Hasten away ! They are hasty and quick in their anger, And may not endure The face of a stranger at present. Alvarez. Straight to Logrono I must hie me now, And there await a challenge from the Count ; For if he have a spark of manhood left, His sword and mine must cross, and one must fall ; But if he dare not meet me, 1 11 proclaim Him dastard in the face of all his court. Eea. Nay, I beseech you, trust him not, my love ; He would not scruple to betray your faith, Nor stand on honour if he gained his end. Alvarez. Yet must I stand on honour. When I smote He had no sword ; and therefore am I bound. Eea. If you return not ere three days are spent, I, woman as I am, must seek you out. LOGROSfO. 41 Alvarez. No, I command ! what ill may light on me Must not be shared by you. Kemain away, Or send one of your tribe to search lor me. Rea. Now go ! now go ! Alvarez. I go, but leave with thee Half of my being ; pray thee, guard it well ! Rea. I '11 hide it in my heart And tend it with most jealous watchfulness. Alvarez. Hast thou no gift for me. Which I may cherish in my banishment ? Rea. Not one but this, V^^^V ^"^■^^-l Such as I give my mother when we part. [Alvarez gocs^ SAT-- 'v'li&i H''?'^i:i'T-iW4r::i'^r: rrrr-r mf.^:'! -ill m''f' ---afeiiM^^' ':'7j Pi I', S C EXE I IT (dumb show.) Early dawn. Banquet-hall in Count Logrono's Palace. One torch nearly burnt out. Disorder after a revel. The Count and Guests are reclining in various attitudes, asleep. Enter, behind, Rea. She advances to the table, sees the keys of the dungeon under the Count's ha7id. Stands uncertain. Advances and touches the keys. The Count stirs and Eea retires. LOGROISIO. 43 TJiK Count falls to sleep again. Rka advances and touches the keys. Tlte (JouNT starts up. They gaze at one another. The Count advances and seizes Rea's tcrist. Rea snatches up a knife. Tlte torch goes out. The Count is heard to fall and groan. Pause. Rattle of keys. 44 LOGRONO. The door at hack opens, and Rea stands upon the threshold. Her form is seen against the light of the early dawn. Distant chorus of Peasants coming to Market. CJiorus of Peasants. Awake ! the hue of morning Is creeping o'er the skies ; The morrow's light is dawning, Awake ! awake ! arise ! Arise ! Awake ! the nimble swallow In wheeling circuit flies ! LOGROJSro. 45 The owl's voice in the hollow Sounds fainter still and dies. Arise ! The hawk has plumed his feather ; The fawn stirs in the brake ; There 's a blush upon the heather, And a smile upon the lake. Arise ! There 's light upon the river ; There 's light upon the mead, Where trembling dewdrops quiver Around the daisy's head. Arise ! Though shadows still are clinging Down where the forest lies, Yet even there are singing The merry birds. Arise ! Arise ! SCENE IV. Early morning. A Dungeon in the Palace of Count LoGRONO. Alvarez fettered. Alvarez. Sweet vision, stay ! fade not yet ! not yet ! Fair dream, why art thou vanished ? Fall again Upon my hungering senses ! Ah me ! ah me ! Better not sleep, to see bright sunny fields, Green trees, and whispering rivers, soaring birds. Than, dreaming so, to wake and see these bars, Mocking with phantom-like reality. ! sweet oblivion ! why dost thou disdain To smooth a captive's pillow ? Rest, downy rest, LOGRONO. 47 Which blesses labour's couch, is fled from mine ; For mine is but the weary spirit's toil, Which earneth no repose — with dreams so bright That they should wholly cease or else endure For evermore unfading and unchanged. Freedom ! the freeman never knows thy worth ; For thou art like a gentle mother's love, Not rightly honour'd until wholly lost. The chillness creeping through my prison-bars, Warns me that night doth wane. Night ! what is night To one whose days are darkness ? Time, friend of man, Thou art the captive's bitterest enemy : Thy leaden feet, unhurried by his prayers, Drag slowly on, mocking his bursting heart — Most tardy in his greatest misery. Chorus of I'EASANTS going to market. Awake ! the hue of morning Is creeping o'er the skies ; &c., &c. Alvarez. Once more the morning rests upon the hills, And summons all things on the earth to life. All things but me — me to the night of death, Or to the life of light which knows no darkening, 48 LOGRO^O. And to the light of life which knows no dying. The hour has come, that one pre-eminent hour, When the long yearning soul at length shall know The truth or baselessness of things foretold — If that our dreams be tricks of fantasy, Wrought in our being by the unseen hand For some beneficent end not understood, Or that they form the one reality, While earthly life is but a nightmare trance, Untrue, unhappy, and unprofitable. Still is the earth, as one sweet garden, fair; While the dread bridge by which we pass from life Sways awful o'er the gulf Uncertainty, Whose opposite shore is wrapt in mists and night. Who feels no tremor as he treads that bridge Is more or less than man — a god or fool. \The door is unlocked.l The door is moved — the door which leads From deadly life to living death. Ha ! what are these ? [Enter Eea.] Can they be things of life Who glide as noiseless as the sailing clouds ? I know them both. Yet know them not like this — So strange, so weird, and so unnatural. Speak ! be ye flesh ? LOGROS'O. 49 Or be ya but a dream Summon'd by supreme suffering from my soul ? Begoue ! begoue ! And let my last short hour Be given to hopes of heaven, not shades of hell. Eea. H'sh ! Know'st tluni me not ? Alvarez. Thou art indeed Of flesh and not a ghost. But wherefore dost tliou visit me like this ? By what strauge power G 50 LOGRONO. Hast thou unloosed the bolts And gain'd access where not even daylight comes ? And, see ! thy feet Are dabbled o'er with blood. What does the Count behind thee, with one hand Press'd on his breast, Whence issues blood apace ? But ! most horrible ! it staineth not the stones. Eea. The Count ? Alvarez! The other hand Still points to thee and me, Then turns its finger to its gaping wound. Eea. I see it not ! 'Tis but Thy suffering fantasy. Come, hasten ! quit this place ! The guards are bribed, or lie Drunken and full of sleep. Alvarez. Even as I gaze The shade has passed away ; So comes my heart into my breast again. LOGRONO. 51 But, maiden, say AVhat dost thou here to-ni^ht ? '«3* Daring the dangers of this house of crime ? Art thou, as I, A victim of his rage ? Have, then, his toils at last encorapass'd thee ? Most bitter thought ! For if thou art not free, My life were sacrificed for naught indeed. Rea. Trouble thyself no more. No more the Count shall lift His hand against thy peace ; For in his blood he lies A bleeding, stiffening corpse. Alvarez. And thy white hand Is red with his vile blood ! And thou hast struck this wretched man to death I Eea. I have. Alvarez. Out ! shame, shame ! Did I not see thee once 52 LOGRONO. Turn thy sharp knife against thine own pure hreast ? P)Ut now tliy blade Has sent a shuddering soul Unshriven to judgment with a load of crimes. Eea. Yon blow was for myself ; But this was struck for thee. bid me not feel shame That, for thy sake, I smote ; For if my arm had fail'd Never wouldst thou have seen The shadows slanting east. Didst thou not strike for me, Saving from worse than death ? Though wild the gypsies' blood, Their hearts know gratitude. Alvakez. My child ! my child ! By this red deed hast thou Placed thy young soul in cruel jeopardy. Eea. ! chide me not ! my people's laws Are built on other code than thine. ! chide me not ! if I did wrong 'Twas for thy sake — ah ! for thy sake ; Thy precious life was ransom'd by his death. LOGRONO. 53 Alvarez. Thou principle ! thou formula of fools ! I cast thee to the idle winds of earth. Ye doctrines loudly preach'd, ye laws laid down To govern crowds, must all be thrown aside When a supreme occasion shows its front ; Then is the gloss of cities torn away, While the rough nature of the savage man Asserts its hidden strong pre-eminence. So from this hour am I for ever thine ; Thy way shall be my way, thy law my law, I shall but see the good and ill of life • As they are mirror'd in thy loving soul. Ee.\. Joy be mine for ever 1 Dearest, let us hasten ; For the sun is climbing Through the eastern sky. Quick ! the guards will waken. If we tarry longer We shall be o'ertaken. So I loose thy chains. ITInloclUs Alvarez's fetters^ Alvarez. Yellowly waves the corn, Eippling like the sea, 54 LOGRONO. Kea. Beneath the blush of morn ; Come, my love, with me ! Gracefully bend the trees. Waving their branches free, Beneath tlie waking breeze ; Come, my love, with me ! Merrily sings the bird, Soaring high o'er the lea, Faintly its voice is heard ; * Come, my love, with me ! Murmuring flows the stream Beneath the willow tree, Whispermg, as in a dream. Come, my love, w^ith me ! Alvarez. With thee for ever, sweet, my love. To tread the paths of wood and brake. To watch the glorious stars above, To watch the eye of day awake ; With thee to wind the forest ways, To feel thy breath upon my cheek, To dream away the happy days. At eve with thee repose to seek ; LOGRO^O. 55 With thee to seek the waxen flower That floats upon the glassy mere, To find where blushing violets cower, And weave tiiem in thy raven hair. Eea. SCENE V. Same as Scene II. Morning. Enter Alvarez and Eea. Here we must part, my daiiiug ; for, beyond, In yonder hollow lies our hidden camp. And ere I brinf;^ thee to the gypsy tribe I must prepare them for thy coming, love. Alvarez. Then so, my sweet preserver, fare thee well ! I haste to hide me in yon tangled wood, To count the leaden minutes till thou comest Bidding me welcome to thy woodland home ; LOG R 01^0. 57 For hencet'orth dare I never more return Back to the haunts of men. My sudden flight, Coming upon the Count's so bloody end, Will raise suspicion — nay, great certainty, That I did slay him as I broke away. Rea. Say ! wilt thou quit thy country and thy home For my poor sake ? Can one young maiden's heart Eeplace the thousand luxuries of home ? Ah ! it is selfishness that blinds my soul, And urges me to bid thee cling to me. Alvarez. Thou art my country, dearest ; thou my home. Where'er thou art my home is at thy feet ; But will thy tribe receive me ? I have heard That they despise a Spaniard as a dog. Kea. I am, my love, the daughter of their queen. Brothers have I not one. My sire is dead. Hence do the wild and uncouth-hearted men Treat me with deference. My slightest wish Is law to them. I doubt not they receive My future husband as their future king. Eea. Like the streamlet at our feet Our love shall be ; H 58 LOGRONO. Every hinderance it meet Shall wake new harmony. Every rapid, every lake Shall be fairer than the last Yet so like that it shall wake Thought of the past. Alvarez. Rea. Like the evening o'er our heads Our love shall be ; Where each glittering planet spreads Its rays in majesty. Every day shall greet our eyes With fresh delight, As every hour new stars arise To deck the night. Like the bindweed and the sun Our love shall be ; When his course of light is run, Her soul shall flee. LOGROi^O. 59 Alvarez. When the iaithlul constant flower Hangs her fair head, He knows no life beyond that hour — His course is sped. Enter Pkpita behind. ALVAliEZ. So, from the iuuntaius of thy beauteous eyes, Let me drink up the waters of thy soul. Through tasting thirst, in thirsting taste again, Until my being sinks into the bliss Of one long sweet intoxicatincj draught. Rea. Ah, dearest ! if mine eyes were seal'd in night, Those fountains of my soul dried up, would then Thy love be lessen'd ? Alvarez. Not so, sweet; for then I 'd catch the fragrance from thy delicate lips, As thus and thus, and still my soul should drink In sweet delirium of matchless joy. Yea ! and if thou wouldst still deny thy lips, I 'd press thee to me thus, and listen so To the quick throbbings of thy fluttering heart, Which leaps and trembles like a new-caged bird. 60 LOGRONO. Rea. My heart is like a bird Beating the barriers of its cage, my breast, To Hy and nestle in thy bosom, love. Alvarez, My bosom is the bush Where she shall build her little nest of love, For there my heart shall mate her ; they shall dwell Happy and safe and songful evermore. [Pepita advances.] Pepita. Accursed be the womb that bore thee ! Accursed be the breasts that fed ! Accursed be the arms that tended ! • Thou, my daughter ; thou, a quean ! Dallying with the milk-faced stranger ! Eea. Spare me, mother ! Pepita. Get thee home ! Eea. Hear me, mother ! Pepita. Lips polluted. LOGRONO. r,l Eeeking with the recent kisses ! Tliou a gypsy I never ! never ! Alvarez. For pity's sake deny me not, but listen. Pepita. Babble thy vanities into strumpets' ears That love the empty folly of thy words. \To Kea.] ]My daughter ! my daughter 1 Thou wert a true pure-hearted daughter once, Wouldst scorn to meet the stranger in the wood ; So did I rear thee, so did I love thee, child. But now ! to steal away like coward thief, Hid from my eyes that loved to watch thee so ! To meet a one-day's friend alone. For shame ! While I for six long an.xious hours have dragged From place to place these dull and trembling limbs Sickened at heart and fearing even to fear. Wert thou a wanton woman of the town Thou couldst not act more shamelessly, my child. Alvarez. Turn thy wrath on me ! But spare thy chidings. If a fault it be To drink the sweet companionship of love. Mine be the blame. But crush her not with words 62 LOGRONO. Whom I do love as far beyond myself As heaven is far beyond the grovelling earth. Pepita. Peace, glib-tongued boy, and go ! I need but .whisper to my tribe that thou, With smooth, soft-spoken words, didst try to turn The silly fancies of my daughter's brain. When straight a hundred knives would spring to light. To wipe the stain from her polluted name. And thou, unhappy child ! wouldst be so shunn'd By all thy playmates of the gypsy race That not a tent would shield thee from the storm, No hand be stretch'd to help thy utmost need ; But thou wouldst be deserted, till thy life Dragg'd to its end of misery and want. Come, then, my daughter ! Alvaeez. Now heaven forgive the blindness of thy rage ! For that thou art the mother of my love. And that upon thy bosom, now so toss'd In heedless passion, once my love did rest, And kiss'd thy cruel lips, I pardon thee ! I pity thee ! But ! for pity's sake, Confound not love as true and pure as ours With the false dalliance of an idle hour. LOGROr^O. 63 Our love must last as long as lasts our life. Yea ! and in death shall gather wings of life To bear it to the bourn beyond the sky. Pepita. So talk they all, niy daughter. Cotne away ! And swear that never once from this hour forth Wilt thou hold converse, or by word or look, With this false-hearted fool. Swear it that he may hear ! By thy mother's fame. By thy father's name, By the land of the rising sun. Alvakez. Forbear 1 forbear 1 ! call not, I implore, As witness of this most unnatural oath, Auffht that is sacred. Woman, do not dare To mell the things which lie beyond thy scope With earthly passions. Pepita. Rea. Swear ! [Eea hneeU hefore Pepita.] Spurn me not from thy feet, mother ! As thus before thee I kneel : 64 LOGROJSfO. T never thwarted thy wishes, mother, But loved thee with all my heart. Spare me, spare me this oath, mother ! I dare not swear as you bid. How can I swear to forsake him "Who is dearer to me than myself? Ask me to pluck from their sockets These eyes that are blinded by tears LOG R 01^0. 65 But, ! ask me not, I beseech thee, To yield up the love of my soul ! Pepita. Rea. Between, then, the love of thy mother And that of this boy hast thou chosen. The love of a score of slow seasons For that of one hour hast thou barter'd. Did I not bear thee in anguish, Tend thee in want and in sickness, Shield thee from blasts of the tempest, The pitiless rays of the noonday, Tear from my shivering bosom The last tatter'd fragment to wrap thee When the snow and the sleet pelted on us ? Yea ! as thou grewest in beauty. From evils more dreaded I shielded. Far from the eyes of the wanton, Remote in the dell and the forest, Thou grewest in purity ever. And love such as this dost thou trample. Devotion like this dost thou scorn, For madness of one foolish moment. Swear ! swear ! or I curse thee and go deem not that I love thee less Because I love him so ; 66 LOGRONO. Nor think that I can e'er forget My gratitude to thee. The rolling year, that bringeth change To all upon the earth, Shall only bring my love increase For thee and for our tribe. Tell me, my mother, I implore, Why chidest thou this love ? Pepita. Because along his veins The pale blood of our foes Oozes its sluggish way ; Because there is no word As strong as is the scorn Which every gypsy feels For his accursed race ; Because not even once, Since first we saw this land, Has gypsy blood been stain'd By mingling with this mud ; Because I'd rather see Thee rotting at my feet Than looking without hate Upon the paltry crew. Enough, my child ! now swear Never again to look Upon this coward boy. LOGRONO. 67 Rka. Ha ! mother, say not so ! For it is false, although my mother speaks, I say 'tis false ! 'tis false I Though all the rest were cowards in their hearts. My love at least is brave. Who rescued me from insult and from shame One against many foes. Pepita. A plot to trap a silly maiden's heart. When I was young I was as fair as thou ; But thrice when wanton hands were laid on me. Thrice has this dagger drunk the Spaniard's blood. Where was thy dagger, child ? Alvarez. Her heart was as firm as thine own. Her dagger was pluck'd from its sheath ; But the point was not turn'd to her foes, It was turn'd to her own virgin breast. Had not my arm stayed the blow. And, wringing the blade from her hand. Driven the dogs from their prey, Thy daughter had fall'n in her blood. 68 LOGRONO. PEriTA. Eea. Pepita. And better so ! for so may gypsies die. My only child ! my age's only prop, Far better so. That keen and searching steel Had cleft a passage for thy maiden soul. Cruel preserver ! thou a deadlier blow Hast dealt, a blow more pitiable — Hast planted in the bosom thou hast saved A festering cancer, hatefuller than death. But quick, my child : the oath ! the oath ! the oath ! Mother, I cannot! 'Tis well ! A mother's love poised 'gainst a lover's lips Has kick'd the beam. 'Tis well. 'Tis very well. A mother's order and a people's will Weigh as two feathers in thine idiot scale. 'Tis well, again ! But one more weight I'll cast. My hate unceasing and unquenchable. Swear ! or I blight thee with a gypsy's curse. Eea. Mother, have mercy on thine only child LOGRONO. 69 Pepita. I had a daufrliter once : she is no more. A mother's curse shall rest upon thy head If thou refusest. All thy ways be clogg'd, Even when my scanty breath is spent at last, With the undying hatred of the dead. Alvarez. Swear not ! for love Is stronger than hate. Hatred shall pass Like a cloud from the sky, Like breath from a glass. Enduring as Fate, As the planets above. Love lives for aye. Eea. Pepita. I cannot, dare not swear. ! my poor heart, that ever I was born To meet thy frown, who ever smiled on me. To disobey thee ? Yet it must be so. Come lightnings and blast thee for ever ! Diseases consume thee unceasing ! May every heart which thou lovest Wither and dwindle apace I 70 LOGRONO. Thy beauty be turned to corruption! Thy strength to the racking of agues ! Thy children be curses about thee ! Thy friends be as false as thyself! The love, for which now thou rebellest, Be turned to a jest and a hissing ! Thy mornings bring sorrow and wailing. Dark be thy nights with despair. Then, when thou desolate liest, Heart-broken, forsaken, and dying, Think of thy mother, who. cursed thee — Think of thy mother, and die ! Eea. Pepita. Mercy ! mercy ! [FainU^^ Thy sex shall upbraid thee ! Thy tribe shall forsake thee ! Alvarez. Peace, beldam ! If there be One spark of natural feeling in thy breast, Forbear thy cruel words, but take thy child, And tend her with some charity. Pepita. Never again Shall she darken my tent ! LOG R 01^0. 71 She who preferr'd The stranger to me, His let her be ! Take her, and leara The blessings that come With a thing which is stolen. My days are but few ; The tribe of my people Shall know me no more. For woe from the young ]\Iay be shaken away, And happy old age Be protracted for long But sorrow on age Swiftly doth ride To the jaws of the grave ; As fruit which is ripe Needs but to be shaken To fall to the ground. ACT II SCENE I. Sunset. A vaulted room in a private house in Logrono. Boohs strewn about. Furnaces, alembics, crucibles, bellows, stills, stuffed reptiles and birds, and the furniture of an Alchemist's laboratory. [Enter Alcalde and Pedro.] Pedro. This is the dwelling of the wondrous man, Whose help we seek in our extremity. Here are his days in thankless toil consumed O'er hot alembic and o'er crucible. Here he seeks out the secrets of the earths, LOG R 01^0. 73 The divers virtues of herbs, barks, and roots ; And here at night by constant lamp he pores O'er musty books and crabbed manuscripts. Alcalde. Strange that a man should leave the flowery fields, The sweet companionship of fellow men, Withering the marrow of his noonday life O'er senseless books and "lowins furnaces ! What is this man, I pray ? and wherefore here Has he his dwelling ? Say, what is known of him ? Pedro. But little, sir. Some years ago he came With all his property in many wains. Chose out this house, as being fenced about And hidden from the gazers of the street. Since which, he scarcely once has stirr'd abroad. One single servant, very old, and mute By nature or his master's orders, waits His scanty wants, and gathers from the fields The plants and stones to serve his master's ends. The priest, good father John, one day, impell'd By chance, or whim, or curiosity, Entered the house, and being, as we, alone, Turned to these books you see upon the shelves. Some few He knew by sight, by hearsay more ; But most in languages unknown to hinij K 74 LOGROSrO. And letters quaint and singular, were writ. The master enter'd sad and courteous. Then, says the father, such a flood of lore Eoll'd from his lips, of foreign lands and books — Not forced, but rising as the occasion rose — As he had never heard nor dream'd before. Since when the learned fathers often come AVhen they lack knowledge on some knotty point Or need some rare book for their monast'ry ; He sells, though seeming to care naught for gold. Alcalde. Perchance he makes it. I have some time heard That, by long study, vigils, patience, toil, It has been possible to gather in Such wisdom in the ways of natural things That at the last the great arcanum dawns Upon the soul, and gold obeys the call. [Enter Alvarez.] Alvarez. Good day, my masters ! what are your behests ? Alcalde. First, learned sir, forgive our forwardness Thus to intrude upon your privacy. But I, first magistrate of this fair town — LOGRONO. 75 Fair once, alas ! but now how deeply fallen ! — Would fain be told by your own proper lips What you do here. Alvarez. No harm to man or thing. Alcalde. Nay ! but I ask it much for your own sake ; For idle rumour of the ignorant folk Is busy with your doings. Since this plague Has warped their judgment by calamity, They even say that death doth lurk within These silent walls — that noxious vapours rise From these alembics. Even threats are heard From the enfeebled creatures of the streets, To burn your house and smite you unto death. Therefore I ask, that I may speak to them And hush the fury of their harass'd minds. Alvarez. I thank you deeply; yet I do not doubt That idle tongues will soon find idle themes. As for the plague you speak of, by my word I even knew not that it was abroad ; Else surely had I striven by word and deed To lend whatever little help I might. 76 LOGRONO. Alcalde. But, pardon me again ! You tell me not Why you have so shut out the busy world. Alvarez. Ask me not this, I pray you ! aught but this. For there are motives in the hearts of all Which are not good to hear nor good to tell. May this suffice — my deeds do harm to none. If you can bring one charge against me, speak ! And I will frankly stand on my defence. If not, I pray you let me be in peace To go my way, however tongues may wag. Alcalde. If you have reasons which you may not tell, I cannot press you further ; yet perchance You will reply upon the other point, Which touches me as being a magistrate — Namely, the way in- which you pass your time. Alvarez. Freely and willingly I tell you this. In studying nature's laws and man's ideas. Alcalde. Seek you the stone of the philosopher ? Alvarez. T do. LOGROI^O. 11 Alcalde [to Pedro]. Ha ! notest thou this, my friend ? Pedro. I note it well, and something else I note. 78 LOGRONO. Alcalde. Then can you, if I do not ask too much, Show me a fragment of this precious stone ? Alvarez. See here. \Points to his hoolcs.^ Alcalde. I see there merely books. Alvarez. Books! '•■ merely books!" nothing but books! My friend. These are the stones of the philosophers ; For in the rolling tide of time and change These have endured, all else being swept away, Even as in river-beds the crumbling rocks Are ground to clay and sand and disappear, While the hard stones, though broken by the flood. Are smooth'd and polish 'd. As they still endure, So live these books ; their lore is like the gem. To me a fable and uncoveted. Whose touch should turn the dullest dross to gold. Alcalde. I am rebuked ; but still I 've heard it said That those philosophers who most despise The stone we speak of, seek with ceaseless zeal LOGROJ^O. The subtle liquid which gives life and strength, Eenews our youtli, and brings the glow of health, Even when the article of death is heard. Alvarez. That I am seeking ; that have I partly found. Alcalde. Ha ! now, indeed, you give encouragement. Alvarez. Seest yon alembic with the fire below ? Seest thou the charcoal slowly waste to ash ? Seest thou its light ? feel'st thou its sullen glow ? Mark'st thou the drops that grow, and fall, and splash ? One drop of that upon your tongue would send Your soul to seek another world, my friend. Alcalde. I see it all. I 've seen it all before. Alvarez. Yet look again, and be thou very sure ! Know'st thou why that charcoal kindles ? Know'st thou whence its heat is got ? Know'st thou why it glows and dwindles ? Know'st thou this, or know'st thou not ? 80 LOGROJSfO. Know'st thou why the oil should rise Above the water ? why, when tasted, The spirit shrinks, the body dies, And all is rudely devastated ? Alcalde. Well ! charcoal burns, is hot and bright ; That 's the cause of heat and light. The oil is light ; and so it floats. Like cork or bubbles, wood or boats. Some oils are poisonous ; poisons kill ; And when one dies the pulse is still. Alvarez. My God, 'tis true ! how little more know I Than thou who thus dost pass it glibly by. How little have we won from the dark fields Of the chaotic cosmos of the world ! How scant the harvest that our sowing yields ! How dense the curtain which still hangs unfurl'd ! Alcalde. But that, my friend, is surely not the draught Which youth and strength doth bring to us when quaff'd ? Alvarez. Man ! in the seeking after natural truth, In gaining wisdom, lies the germ of life. LOGRONO. 81 His is a blooming and perennial youth — For him is Nature with renewal rite — Who at her knees fur ever humbly kneels, Heark'ning the truth her loving heart reveals. Seek, seek for knowledge ! Ah ! full well I know Therein alone may lie the cure of woe. Alcalde. It may be so. I understand you not ; But I am satisfied there is no harm In your employments ; and time presses me. I also come, hearing of your repute, To ask your aid in our most hapless strait. Alvakez. Speak, then, I pray you. If it be the plague Which has attack'd the city, I may help ; For I am come from Egypt, where it broods For ever like a vulture o'er the land. Alcalde. It is, indeed. An awful pestilence Has ravish'd half our homes ; for full a month Has it been waxing, knowing no abate. The dead lie all unburied in the streets. The shameless dogs prowl glutted with foul food. The old, with trembling limbs, cast out their young. To be in turn cast out by children's hands. L 82 LOGRONO. The mother shuns her infant if she thinks There be a plague-taint in its poor young blood. Children drive forth their parents from their doors ; While thieves, half crazed with terror and with wine, Prowl unmolested through the public ways. Horrible birds, unknown to vis before, Dispute with curs each blotch'd and rotting corpse. Justice is paralysed, the time unhinged. The decencies of life are cast aside. Death, which is wont to come with sober thought, And be wrapp'd up in reverence and awe, Is hail'd with jesting and with ribaldry ; The chants and masses for departed souls Are turned to lewdness and profanity. Alvarez. Horrible ! strange and most unnatural. Tell me, I pray you, when the ill first strikes. How doth the malady declare itself ? Alcalde. In giddiness, a loathing for all food, But thirst unquenchable, a fearful pain Across the groins, a fouling tongue and breath ; Then doth the aching body 'gin to swell, Turn crimson, bloated, dabbled with green spots; And so come death and rotting in an hour. LOGRONO. 83 Alvarez. Great God of heaven ! it is the very same ! Alcalde. Alas ! he's struck ; and we have brought with us The foul contagion from the outer air. Alvarez. Yes, I am struck, but yet not as you think. Tell me, is there a g}'psy camp at hand ? Alcalde. Assuredly there is ; why do you ask ? Would you seek aid among that thievish crew ? 'Tis said, indeed, that some of them are skill'd In philters and such shameless practices ; But for aught wholesome or medicinal I doubt if thence much comfort may be drawn. Alvarez. Yet among them I go to find some means To stay this plague. In five hours from this time Meet me again. Xow heaven be with you, sir ! Alcalde. Farewell ! I shall assuage the burghers' wrath. Who clamour for your death. But if, indeed, You find for us some potent antidote To stay our troubles, rich be your reward. [Alcalde ^oes.] 84 LOGRONO. [Pedro approaches Alvarez and scans him closely.^ Pedro. 'Tis true ! tboii art the man. Thou art ray friend, my more than brother once. Changed to old age in but a score of years — Thy brow, once smooth and polish'd as a slab, iSTow cross'd and furrow'd like a harrow'd field — Thy step elastic and tliy crest erect, Now turned to weary paces and bent back — Thou art the father of thy former self Alvarez. I knew thee, Pedro, thou art little changed. With thee the course of time has kindly dealt ; For days of peace, in wearing us away, Leave us enfeebled, yet in else unchanged ; But care and sorrow eat into our hearts, Corrode, distort, disfigure, and destroy. Pedro. Tell me, my friend, what cares have weighed on thee ? For since thy flight naught has been heard of thee. And silent rumour spoke of thee as dead. Alvarez. 'Tis a long task, and all unprofitable. Yet as thou hast my secret, and my life LOGRONO. 85 Rests in thy bauds, 'tis fittest I should speak ; For a half confidence is more unsafe Than total ignorance or total trust. When twenty years ago I fled this town (Fled as a murderer, though my hands were clean ; For I could never hope to clear myself Without accusing one more dear than life), 1 dwelt among the gypsy tribe whicb then Haunted the neighbourhood. As one of them I lived and travell'd even as their chief and king; For I did wed the daughter of their king, Who had been dead for many years before : Her mother died, because she hated me, Cursing her daughter for her love of me. One happy year, one year of supreme bliss Was ours ; one son was born to us. Alas ! I cannot, dare not, even think — I scarcely know whence rose the coldness first : Some quarrel, like a little distant cloud. Which, growing fast, o'erspreads the firmament ; Some small indignity much brooded o'er. Yet in itself so small that it had pass'd 86 LOGROJSlO. Like summer lightning, but amongst our tribe Were busy, envious, and malicious tongues, Who brook'd not that a stranger ruled o'er them. Coldness begot contempt ; contempt got hate. Three cruel years I wander'd, strengtheu'd still By the sweet memory of my vanish'd love, Until at last my secret enemies Sought my destruction by the poison-cup. I fled, and wander'd many weary years From Spain still onward even to furthest Ind, Arabia, Persia, and the Eastern lands — Sometimes consorting with the gypsy tribes, But ever drowning memory of my grief In patient study of mankind and things. Yet, though the body travell'd without rest. My heart of hearts was left behind in Spain. So, after years, am I return'd to drag The remnant of my blighted life away Here, 'midst these books and this obscurity. Pedro. A piteous tale, indeed ! Hast thou not heard whether thy wife still lives. If lives the child of this ill-sorted match ? Alvarez. No word of news have I. But, as the Alcalde spoke, a horrid fear LOGRONO. 87 Shot through my breast as baleful meteor-tlash. This pestilence which has laid bare the town Accords most closely with diseases wrought By gypsy poison ; and the fearful thought Will not be put aside, that my own tribe By gypsy artifice has worked this ill. Pedro. A frightful deed, if it in sooth be so. Now I bethink me, gypsies have been seen Prowling about the fountains of the street. But they were not molested ; it was thought They came to plunder there the helpless dead, "Who lay about the wells in festering heaps. Whither thev crawl'd to slake their burning thirst. Alvarez. It must be so. This very hour I go Straight to their camp. I shall conceal myself, And gain their secret from their treacherous heart. Meanwhile be cautious ! Waste not idle fears. But bid all men refrain from public wells, Drinking alone what springs from private grounds. Pedro. I go to bid the Alcalde see to this. [Pedro gocs?[ 88 LOGRONO. Alvarez. When, righteous Heaven ! when shall my sorrow cease ? When shall my way of trouble know a wending ? Here, where I sought forgetfulness and peace. Is trouble's increase, but not trouble's ending. May not the anguish of a score of years Be weigh'd against the hour of my trans- gression ? Cannot the waters of my silent tears, With self-upbraiding and contrite confession. Wipe off the curse the dying mother spoke, The awful curse ? Ah, no ! it is fulfilling. Heavier and deadlier weighs its doleful yoke, Nor shall my heart know rest before its stilling. I feel that all in vain has been my strife. Vain as a bird's within the meshes striving. I feel that now across my autumn's life The clouds of death are lowering fast and driving. SCENE II. Ahout midnight. The same as Scene II., Act I. [Enter Alvarez.] Alvarez. Hast thou, O earth, among thy deepest caves, One most remote from all humanity, Where blackest night and desolation dwell — Where, through the long and slow revolving year. No hunter's footstep and no woodman's soncr Can penetrate, but where the ravenous wolf Hies him to munch his loathsome midnight meal There, with no comrade but my bitter woe, No hope in life but the swift end of life, 90 LOGRONO. No fear of death but that it be not death, Lull'd by the weeping from the marble rocks, I 'd lay nie down to cast this weary slough ; There, like an infant overwrought in grief, I 'd sob, and sob, and sob myself to sleep. Hither, a plaything of outrageous fate, The time has toss'd me. Here, long years ago, The consummation of my life was wrought ; And here, I feel it, shall dark death outstrip, — Even as the body of a swimmer drown'd. After long days of drifting to and fro, Eeturns unto the spot from which he sprang. These very trees were witness of my love ; They murmur in tne moonlight as of yore. But what of old seemed lullaby of love. Breathes now iu wailing cadence through the air. So change the voices of inanimate things — Changed by man's ceaseless mutability. Until heart-echoes seem like nature's voice. Here, by the secret tokens on the trees. Must be the trystmg-place to-night; and here Must I secrete myself to overhear Their gypsy councils. By this rock I '11 lurk. Even now methinks I hear their voices near. With their swift footsteps on the autumn leaves. LOGROJ^O. 91 They come ! they come ! Now, heart, be still awliile ! Enter Gypsies (armed, and with quenched torches), Rea, and Salazar. Rea soliloquizeft. Rea. His love was subtlest ferment of my life, Turning the sweetest honey of my youth To strongest mead, which througli my warm young veins In fervent joy career'd. My throbbing soul Was girt about with glamorous clouds of love. Through which the unreal world shone far and dim. But, as the strongest, blandest mead, when sour'd, Turns to the eagerest draught, so chang'd my love. Neglected and despised, to deepest hate. Yea, from the ashes of that love arose, Even as the fabled Phcenix of the East Rises from out the cinders of its sire. Another passion. But how dire the change ! A vulture from the ashes of the dove, A croaking raven from the throstle's nest. Addresses the Gypsies. Rea. The time is ripe ; The seed we sowed 92 LOGROStO. In blood and tears, Bears now its fruit Of blood and tears; It but awaits The sickle's edge. You heard but now, Our foes are low ; They lie like sheep When murrain stalks Among the folds. Accursed race ! Not one shall live To tell the tale ; For all shall fall. But men shall ask In after years What mean the stones Which they shall find, The only trace Of that which was. The riven cup. The chok'd-up well, The crumbling gates, The blacken'd walls, Where thirsty flame Has leapt and lick'd — These shall proclaim How gypsies hate. LOGRONO. 93 Gird your loins ! Aud whet your knives ! For they shall drink Their glut of blood. To-morrow, ere The break of day, When they who tend The sick, are sunk, 94 LOGRONO. From weary watch, To fever sleep, Faint with grief For what has fallen, Faint with fear For what may fall — Then shall we break, With brandish'd knives And horrid cries, Wild in their midst. The night shall aid ; And dreary fear Will think it sees Unchained fiends Let loose from hell. Spare not the babe Which is coil'd in the arms Of its mother asleep ! Spare not the bride, Half-drunken in dreams Of the morrow and bliss ' Spare not the old, Though his breath may not last Till the breaking of morn ! All, all shall fall ! LOGRONO. 95 Then fire shall devour Their (.hvellings apace ! Draw your sharp knives ! Blunt be their edge Ere you sheathe them again 1 Salazar. But, mother ! when the task is done, When all the cursed race is fallen, Swiit vengeance shall our steps pursue ; Nor savage glen, nor arid waste. Shall shield us from the fell pursuit Of justice and the peasants' spite. Rea. When yet had gypsy justice ? Is not the wolf of more esteem than we ? Him troubles not the hunter in his lair, But shuns him rather and his bony den. The bear is met in open fight and slain, Nor malice nor oppression in the strife ; But we are driven like lepers from the fairs. Are shunn'd and humbled in the market-place ; And when we look upon a little child. The mother snatches it, and, chiding, cries, " Aroint thee, gypsy witch of evil eye." Salazar. Yet, mother, yet from this hour forth 96 LOGROJSfO. A double hardship waits upon our path — Not mere injustice and contempt, But red revenge of cord and steel. [Eea, aside^ Thou mongrel whelp of tigress and of ram, \aloud?^ For this has been provided. When our huge measure of revenge is full. We leave this land of fair, false-hearted fools, To cross the narrow sea. Morocco's king Shall give our tribe a welcome and a home. A people wild and free as we is there. There shall we find a place of rest and peace. On ! on ! my children ; 'tis your queen who calls. [Gypsies &ing and gradually light their torches.] Chorus of Gypsies. See the red moon, sinking, Hides her face from the earth ! Oil! lor slaurd BuRfiHER. The curse of wickedness ! down on your knees and pray. What ! fearing punishment for thy misdeed Thoii tiedst the city. Dost thou in monstrous spite, After these many years have pass'd us by, Now turn on us, and blight this once fair town. Conspire on plague to heap contagion By thy most damn'd devices ? Bear him forth ! [Enter Alcalde and Pedro.] Alcalde. Now all is well prepared ! Ha, what is this ? [Perceives dispute^ o 106 LOGRONO. Alvarez. Out, blind infatuation ! are your minds More foully fester'd than your bodies are. Listen ! My God ! they come ! Alcalde. I shall inquire another time in this. \All listen.] 'Tis true, they come ; from the last gate I saw Their torches gleam, and heard their naked feet Upon the hard pav'd road. See ye yon light ? Disperse yourselves ; away to ambuscade ! Then, when they reach this central market-place. Fall on them suddenly with sword and knife. [All hide.] Enter Gypsies (tumulhiously vnth torches and armed), PtEA, and Salazar. Eea. See ye yon house ? There dwelleth he Who bitterly wrong'd My people and me. Burn it, and smite All who essay To rush from the doors. Let not one soul See the sun dawn. LOGRONO. 107 [Armed BuRcaiEUs, with Alcalde, Alvarez, and Pedro, rush on.] Alvarez. lla ! treason ! treason ! [Burghers and Gypsies Jif/hf. Alvarez is wounded. Alvarkz and Pedro are surrounded hy GvrsrE?^, who are then driven ojf.] SCENE IV. Daion. Same place as Scene II., Act IL Enter Gypsies carrying Alvarez toounded and leading Pedro bound. Salazar dead. Eea. Eea. Lay him beneath The spreading chestnut-branches. There let the wretch Gasp out his traitor-soul. Vengeance, though late, At last has overtaken Him who despised My people and my crown. LOGROJ^O. 109 Vengeance, alas ! For ye for whom 'twas summon'd, Sightless are ye And dumb in sudden death. Blacken'd and gash'd In yonder cursed city, Shall ye not hear The tidings of" revenge ? Shall ye not wake To see him who betray'd ye Prostrate in shame And mortal agony ? This is the hour Foretasted in long waiting ; Grav'd on the stars By hand of destiny. This is the hour Whose coming, like a beacon, Shone through long years Of anguish an 1 despair. Speak, then, my soul ! Wherefore dost thou tremble Like a base hound Beneath a thunder-storm ? Pedro. See ! his pale lips Are tremblingly parted, and echo 110 LOGRONO. Faintly the things which float through his suffering!; soul, As the dim thoughts Fade and revive like a taper, Flickering awhile ere it sinks in the dead of the night. Alvarez. Eea. Like the streamlet at our feet Our love shall be ; Every hinderauce it meet Shall wake new harmony. Every rapid, every lake Shall be fairer than the last ; Yet so like that it shall wake Thought of the past. Memory of unutterable wrong ! Scorn and desertion ! weary wandering life Each gibe that ever on my people's name Was heap'd, each injury be with me now ! Lest my heart break ! Plunge every feeling traitor to my wrath Into the glowing furnace of my wrong. That the rebellious throbbings of remorse Be hush'd in hate's inexorable fire, Lest my heart break ! LOGROSfO. Ill Peace ! ah ! be still ; it is too late ! Away regret ! the deed is done ! Blood on my liands ! blood on my head ' lilood on my soul ! a husband's blood ! Pedro. Listen ! again Are sounding, more distant and faintly, The chords of his bosom, like strings of the harp of the winds, When the high storm Wrings from them, sobbing and breaking. Music more wild, yet as sweet as the zephyr awoke. Alvakez. Like the evening o'er our heads Our love shall be; Where each glittering planet spreads Its rays in majesty. Every day shall greet our eyes With new delight, As every hour fresh stars arise To deck the night. Eea. ! thou hast never in thy worst abuse, By coldness or more palpable contempt. 112 LOGRONO. Plunged such a poison'd dagger in my breast, Nor sear'd my soul with such hot agony As with these words — Which echo too distinctly in my heart, Dragging in anguish long-forgotten thoughts — Forgotten or long choked with weeds of hate, Or overrun by nightshade of revenge: — To glaring day. Lie hidden, memory of vanish'd love I Was I the first to break the vows we made ? Did I first wander from the sunny paths ? Were the bright flowers of rapture and content First crush'd by me ? ! if my heart be guilty as thine own. If at my hands not only death but wrong Were wrought upon thy no more guilty head, Thy death were murder, and my life were woe — Woe without end ! Pedro. Late ! all too late ! The building has sunk in its glory, Devour'd by the swift-leaping flames of thy hatred and rage. Sprinkle no more The water of ruth on the ashes. LOGRONO. 113 The lialls and the columns shall never be lifted agani. Alvakez. Like the bindweed and the sun Our luve shall be ; When his course of light is run, Her soul shall flee. 114 LOGRONO. Eea. When the faithful constant flower Hangs her fair head, He knows no life beyond that hour- His course is sped. By thy side behold me kneeling, By thy side thy weeping wife ! Spare him, deatli ! ! spare my husband ! For each drop of blood thou sparest Take a thousand drops of mine. Speak ' speak ! say that thou livest ! Bid me breathe, and bid me hope That by long and deep devotion, That by humbleness and meekness, I may win thy love again. The lips that speak are crimson gashes ; All their words are drops of blood, Every drop proclaiming murder. Is this, then, the only answer Which the husband gives the wife ? God of heaven ! I have denied Thee, Scorn'd Thy handiwork and word. Now I know that Thou existest ; For my prayers were empty, fruitless, Did thev not ascend to Thee. LOGRONO. 115 Alvarez. Like the swallow and the fall Ah, me ! ah, me ! ah, me ! \Bies. Pedro. 'Tis past ! The hour Of vengeance, too ruthless and bloody, Is written in murder and guile ; but his wrong- bearing soul, Like a struck deer, All bleeding and panting and tieeing. Plunges for rest in the river's more merciful tide. Pedro \to PiEa]. 'Tis done ' but not yet. No ; not for weary centuries of years Shall the deep curse which rests upon thy race, Now trebly doubled by thy deed of Avrath, Be wiped away. Thy name shall be borne down The course of time drench'd with the hard-wrung tears Of thine own people ; and the contemptuous hate Of all the nations shall pursue thy race, Hearthless and houseless. Should ever pity at their sad estate Be born to men, thy manes shall arise. lU; LOGRO^O. And, as a horrid spectre murder-brow 'd, Shall sear their hearts with hate's unfading fire. [PaMS6S.] \NoUe of BuiUiiiERS apjiroacJmif/.] [The GYrsiE8 escape.] I'EDKO. Even now ! Hark ' from the city The hurghers are pouring to rescue — To rescue too late, but yet not too late for revenge. Woman, thou diest ! Eea. "Diest!" There is a mark upon the shore of life Which, being flooded by the tide of grief, Points to the hour of death. Beyond that hour no heart may dare to beat, Rut, turning backward, must seek out again The liome from which it came. Silence and night. Unfold your shadowy wings ! Eest, sleep, night, nought, Is all the heaven I ask. Or if, indeed, there be Another life in death, LOGROJ^O. 11 Spirit of him who once Was more than life to me, Grant me tliis prayer alone : Beest thou in heaven. Then at the gates of heaven Let me lor ever weep ! If in the heart of hell, Then in the heart of hell Let me for ever weep ! \Stahs herself and/alls.] Pedro. On the earth, in the deep, In the round of the heavens, There is nauj^^ht which brings forth Of its kind so abundantly As blood spilt unrighteously. Be it hid in the caves Seldom trod in the forests, Be it scatter'd at night On the waves that roll stormily O'er the sea that is fathomless — Be it drunk by the blasts Blowing dry from the deserts, Or burn'd by the fire When men standing fearfully Behold their homes smoulderinji — 118 LOGRONO. The seed which is sown, Though tardy its germing, Some day shall arise And bear fruit unfailingly, Bloody and manifold. [^,s the sound of the approaching Burghers increases Rea raises herself l\ Eea. I see it : Lo I see it coming, mighty ! As I have seen it in my childhood's dreams. It is the same ! the wave ' the wave ! Flooding the face of ocean, endless, dark, High as the heavens and fathomless as hell. Upon its crest the wrecks of armaments With ancient mountains wrested from their roots, Midst spires and lofty domes, the pride of men. Are toss'd like bubbles. From out its foamy sides Uncouth sea-monsters glare upon the day, LOGRONO. 119 Startled imwilling from their weedy lairs Where, ages long, uuknowu to man, they lurk'd Hostile to light. Now onward with a groan, That shakes the tottering earthball to its core, It soars. The ground recedes and sinks To meet it. Death ! death ! I come ! I come ! Marcus Ward & Co.. Royal Ulster Works, Belfast. UNIVERSITY' OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY Los Angeles This book is DUE on the last date stamped below. ^^^'9 itm: i i Form L9-32m-8,'57(C8680s4)444 \PR Cerny -_ 14452 Logrono C35 m 4452 C35 1 AA 000 365 554 5