And most of all I pity thy wild heart,
That hurries thee to crimes and deeds of blood.
Beware, beware of that.
Bart. For thy dear sake
I will be gentle. Thou shalt teach me patience. 1575
Prec. Then take this farewell, and depart in peace.
Thou must not linger here.
Bart. Come, come with me.
Prec. Hark! I hear footsteps.
Bart. I entreat thee, come!
Prec. Away! It is in vain.
Bart. Wilt thou not come?
Prec. Never! 1580
Bart. Then woe, eternal woe, upon thee!
Thou shalt not be another’s. Thou shalt die. [Exit.
Prec. All holy angels keep me in this hour!
Spirit of her who bore me, look upon me!
Mother of God, the glorified, protect me! 1585
Christ and the saints, be merciful unto me!
Yet why should I fear death? What is it to die?
To leave all disappointment, care, and sorrow,
To leave all falsehood, treachery, and unkindness,
All ignominy, suffering, and despair, 1590
And be at rest forever! O dull heart,
Be of good cheer! When thou shalt cease to beat,
Then shalt thou cease to suffer and complain!
(Enter VICTORIAN and HYPOLITO behind.)
Vict. ‘T is she! Behold, how beautiful she stands
Under the tent-like trees!
Hyp. A woodland nymph! 1595
Vict. I pray thee, stand aside. Leave me.
Hyp. Be wary
Do not betray thyself too soon.
Vict. (disguising his voice). Hist! Gypsy!
Prec. (aside, with emotion). That voice! that voice from heaven! Oh, speak again!
Who is it calls?
Vict. A friend.
Prec. (aside). ‘T is he! ‘T is he! 1600
I thank thee, Heaven, that thou hast heard my prayer,
And sent me this protector! Now be strong,
Be strong, my heart! I must dissemble here.
False friend or true?
Vict. A true friend to the true;
Fear not; come hither. So; can you tell fortunes? 1605
Prec. Not in the dark. Come nearer to the fire.
Give me your hand. It is not crossed, I see.
Vict. (putting a piece of gold into her hand). There is the cross.
Prec. Is ‘t silver?
Vict. No, ‘t is gold.
Prec. There ‘s a fair lady at the Court, who loves you,
And for yourself alone.
Vict. Fie! the old story! 1610
Tell me a better fortune for my money;
Not this old woman’s tale!
Prec. You are passionate;
And this same passionate humor in your blood
Has marred your fortune. Yes; I see it now;
The line of life is crossed by many marks. 1615
Shame! shame! Oh, you have wronged the maid who loved you!
How could you do it?
Vict. I never loved a maid;
For she I loved was then a maid no more.
Prec. How know you that?
Vict. A little bird in the air
Whispered the secret.
Prec. There, take back your gold! 1620
Your hand is cold, like a deceiver’s hand!
There is no blessing in its charity!
Make her your wife, for you have been abused;
And you shall mend your fortunes, mending hers.
Vict. (aside). How like an angel’s speaks the tongue of woman, 1625
When pleading in another’s cause her own!
That is a pretty ring upon your finger.
Pray give it me. (Tries to take the ring.)
Prec. No; never from my hand
Shall that be taken!
Vict. Why, ‘t is but a ring.
I ‘ll give it back to you; or, if I keep it, 1630
Will give you gold to buy you twenty such.
Prec. Why would you have this ring?
Vict. A traveller’s fancy,
A whim, and nothing more. I would fain keep it
As a memento of the Gypsy camp
In Guadarrama, and the fortune-teller 1635
Who sent me back to wed a widowed maid.
Pray, let me have the ring.
Prec. No, never! never!
I will not part with it, even when I die;
But bid my nurse fold my pale fingers thus,
That it may not fall from them. ‘T is a token 1640
Of a beloved friend, who is no more.
Vict. How? dead?
Prec. Yes; dead to me; and worse than dead.
He is estranged! And yet I keep this ring.
I will rise with it from my grave hereafter,
To prove to him that I was never false. 1645
Vict. (aside). Be still, my swelling heart! one moment, still!
Why, ‘t is the folly of a love-sick girl.
Come, give it me, or I will say ‘t is mine,
And that you stole it.
Prec. Oh, you will not dare
To utter such a falsehood!
Vict. I not dare? 1650
Look in my face, and say if there is aught
I have not dared, I would not dare for thee!
(She rushes into his arms.)
Prec. ‘T is thou! ‘t is thou! Yes; yes; my heart’s elected!
My dearest-dear Victorian! my soul’s heaven!
Where hast thou been so long? Why didst thou leave me? 1655
Vict. Ask me not now, my dearest Preciosa.
Let me forget we ever have been parted!
Prec. Hadst thou not come —
Vict. I pray thee, do not chide me!
Prec. I should have perished here among these Gypsies.
Vict. Forgive me, sweet! for what I made thee suffer. 1660
Think’st thou this heart could feel a moment’s joy,
Thou being absent? Oh, believe it not!
Indeed, since that sad hour I have not slept,
For thinking of the wrong I did to thee!
Dost thou forgive me? Say, wilt thou forgive me? 1665
Prec. I have forgiven thee. Ere those words of anger
Were in the book of Heaven writ down against thee,
I had forgiven thee.
Vict. I ‘m the veriest fool
That walks the earth, to have believed thee false.
It was the Count of Lara —
Prec. That bad man 1670
Has worked me harm enough. Hast thou not heard —
Vict. I have heard all. And yet speak on, speak on!
Let me but hear thy voice, and I am happy;
For every tone, like some sweet incantation,
Calls up the buried past to plead for me. 1675
Speak, my beloved, speak into my heart,
Whatever fills and agitates thine own.
(They walk aside.)
Hyp. All gentle quarrels in the pastoral poets,
All passionate love-scenes in the best romances,
All chaste embraces on the public stage, 1680
All soft adventures, which the liberal stars
Have winked at, as the natural course of things,
Have been surpassed here by my friend, the student,
And this sweet Gypsy lass, fair Preciosa!
Prec. Señor Hypolito! I kiss your hand. 1685
Pray, shall I tell your fortune?
Hyp. Not to-night;
For, should you treat me as you did Victorian,
And send me back to marry maids forlorn,
My wedding day would last from now till Christmas.
Chispa (within). What ho! the Gypsies, ho! Beltran Cruzado! 1690
Halloo! halloo! halloo! halloo!
(Enters booted, with a whip and lantern.)
Vict. What now?
Why such a fearful
din? Hast thou been robbed?
Chispa. Ay, robbed and murdered; and good evening to you,
My worthy masters.
Vict. Speak; what brings thee here?
Chispa (to PRECIOSA). Good news from Court; good news! Beltran Cruzado, 1695
The Count of the Calés, is not your father,
But your true father has returned to Spain
Laden with wealth. You are no more a Gypsy.
Vict. Strange as a Moorish tale!
Chispa. And we have all
Been drinking at the tavern to your health, 1700
As wells drink in November, when it rains.
Vict. Where is the gentleman?
Chispa. As the old song says,
His body is in Segovia,
His soul is in Madrid.
Prec. Is this a dream? Oh, if it be a dream, 1705
Let me sleep on, and do not wake me yet!
Repeat thy story! Say I ‘m not deceived!
Say that I do not dream! I am awake;
This is the Gypsy camp; this is Victorian,
And this his friend, Hypolito! Speak! speak! 1710
Let me not wake and find it all a dream!
Vict. It is a dream, sweet child! a waking dream,
A blissful certainty, a vision bright
Of that rare happiness, which even on earth
Heaven gives to those it loves. Now art thou rich, 1715
As thou wast ever beautiful and good;
And I am now the beggar.
Prec. (giving him her hand). I have still
A hand to give.
Chispa (aside). And I have two to take.
I ‘ve heard my grandmother say, that Heaven gives almonds 1720
To those who have no teeth. That ‘s nuts to crack.
I ‘ve teeth to spare, but where shall I find almonds?
Vict. What more of this strange story?
Chispa. Nothing more.
Your friend, Don Carlos, is now at the village
Showing to Pedro Crespo, the Alcalde, 1725
The proofs of what I tell you. The old hag,
Who stole you in your childhood, has confessed;
And probably they ‘ll hang her for the crime,
To make the celebration more complete.
Vict. No; let it be a day of general joy; 1730
Fortune comes well to all, that comes not late.
Now let us join Don Carlos.
Hyp. So farewell,
The student’s wandering life! Sweet serenades,
Sung under ladies’ windows in the night,
And all that makes vacation beautiful! 1735
To you, ye cloistered shades of Alcalá,
To you, ye radiant visions of romance,
Written in books, but here surpassed by truth,
The Bachelor Hypolito returns,
And leaves the Gypsy with the Spanish Student. 1740
SCENE VI. — A pass in the Guadarrama mountains. Early morning. A muleteer crosses the stage, sitting sideways on his mule, and lighting a paper cigar with flint and steel.
SONG
If thou art sleeping, maiden,
A wake and open thy door,
‘T is the break of day, and we must away
O’er meadow, and mount, and moor.
Wait not to find thy slippers, 1745
But come with thy naked feet;
We shall have to pass through the dewy grass,
And waters wide and fleet.
(Disappears down the pass. Enter a Monk. A Shepherd appears on the rocks above.)
Monk. Ave Maria, gratia plena. Olá! good man!
Shep. Olá! 1750
Monk. Is this the road to Segovia?
Shep. It is, your reverence.
Monk. How far is it?
Shep. I do not know.
Monk. What is that yonder in the valley? 1755
Shep. San Ildefonso.
Monk. A long way to breakfast.
Shep. Ay, marry.
Monk. Are there robbers in these mountains?
Shep. Yes, and worse than that. 1760
Monk. What?
Shep. Wolves.
Monk. Santa Maria! Come with me to
San Ildefonso, and thou shalt be well rewarded.
Shep. What wilt thou give me? 1765
Monk. An Agnus Dei and my benediction.
(They disappear. A mounted Contrabandista passes, wrapped in his cloak, and a gun at his saddle-bow. He goes down the pass singing.)
SONG
Worn with speed is my good steed,
And I march me hurried, worried;
Onward, caballito mio,
With the white star in thy forehead! 1770
Onward, for here comes the Ronda,
And I hear their rifles crack!
Ay, jaléo! Ay, ay, jaléo!
Ay, jaléo! They cross our track.
(Song dies away. Enter PRECIOSA, on horseback, attended by VICTORIAN, HYPOLITO, DON CARLOS, and CHISPA, on foot and armed.)
Vict. This is the highest point. Here let us rest. 1775
See, Preciosa, see how all about us
Kneeling, like hooded friars, the misty mountains
Receive the benediction of the sun!
O glorious sight!
Prec. Most beautiful indeed!
Hyp. Most wonderful!
Vict. And in the vale below, 1780
Where yonder steeples flash like lifted halberds,
San Ildefonso, from its noisy belfries,
Sends up a salutation to the morn,
As if an army smote their brazen shields,
And shouted victory!
Prec. And which way lies Segovia?
Vict. At a great distance yonder. 1785
Dost thou not see it?
Prec. No. I do not see it.
Vict. The merest flaw that dents the horizon’s edge,
There, yonder!
Hyp. ‘T is a notable old town,
Boasting an ancient Roman aqueduct,
And an Alcázar, builded by the Moors, 1790
Wherein, you may remember, poor Gil Blas
Was fed on Pan del Rey. Oh, many a time
Out of its grated windows have I looked
Hundreds of feet plumb down to the Eresma,
That, like a serpent through the valley creeping, 1795
Glides at its foot.
Prec. Oh yes! I see it now,
Yet rather with my heart than with mine eyes,
So faint it is. And all my thoughts sail thither,
Freighted with prayers and hopes, and forward urged
Against all stress of accident, as in 1800
The Eastern Tale, against the wind and tide
Great ships were drawn to the Magnetic Mountains,
And there were wrecked, and perished in the sea! (She weeps.)
Vict. O gentle spirit! Thou didst bear unmoved
Blasts of adversity and frosts of fate! 1805
But the first ray of sunshine that falls on thee
Melts thee to tears! Oh, let thy weary heart
Lean upon mine! and it shall faint no more,
Nor thirst, nor hunger; but be comforted
And filled with my affection.
Prec. Stay no longer! 1810
My father waits. Methinks I see him there,
Now looking from the window, and now watching
Each sound of wheels or footfall in the street,
And saying, “Hark! she comes!” O father! father!
(They descend the pass. CHISPA remains behind.)
Chispa. I have a father, too, but he is a dead one. Alas and alack-a-day! Poor was I born, and poor do I remain. I neither win nor lose. Thus I wag through the world, half the time on foot, and the other half walking; and always as merry as a thunder-storm in the night. And so we plough along, as the fly said to the ox. Who knows what may happen? Patience, and shuffle the cards! I am not yet so bald that you can see my brains; and perhaps, after all, I
shall some day go to Rome, and come back Saint Peter. Benedicite! [Exit.
(A pause. Then enter BARTOLOMÉ wildly, as if in pursuit, with a carbine in his hand.) 1815
Bart. They passed this way. I hear their horses’ hoofs!
Yonder I see them! Come, sweet caramillo,
This serenade shall be the Gypsy’s last!
(Fires down the pass.)
Ha! ha! Well whistled, my sweet caramillo!
Well whistled! — I have missed her! — O my God!
(The shot is returned. BARTOLOMÉ falls.) 1820
EVANGELINE: A TALE OF ACADIE
This epic poem was first published in 1847 and was the poet’s most famous work in his lifetime. It concerns an Acadian girl named Evangeline and her search for her lost love Gabriel. Evangeline is set during the time of the Expulsion of the Acadians - the forced removal by the British of the Acadian people from the present day Canadian Maritime provinces and also parts of the US state of Maine. Longfellow was inspired by his friend and fellow author Nathaniel Hawthorne, who introduced him to the true story of the Acadians in Nova Scotia. Also, Longfellow employed the use of dactylic hexameter, imitated from the Greek and Latin classical works he admired so much. The poem is renowned for its successful defining of Acadian history and identity in the nineteenth and twentieth century.
Delphi Complete Works of Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (Delphi Poets Series Book 13) Page 23
