_Enter Victorian by the balcony._ _Victorian._ Poor little dove! Thou tremblest like a leaf! _Pre._ I am so frightened!—’Tis for thee I tremble! I hate to have thee climb that wall by night! Did no one see thee? _Vic._ None, my love, but thou. _Pre._ ’Tis very dangerous; and when thou’rt gone I chide myself for letting thee come here Thus stealthily by night. Where hast thou been? Since yesterday I have no news from thee. _Vic._ Since yesterday I’ve been in Alcalá. Ere long the time will come, sweet Preciosa, When that dull distance shall no more divide us; And I no more shall scale thy wall by night To steal a kiss from thee, as I do now. _Pre._ An honest thief, to steal but what thou givest. _Vic._ And we shall sit together unmolested, And words of true love pass from tongue to tongue, As singing birds from one bough to another. _Pre._ That were a life indeed to make time envious! I knew that thou wouldst visit me to-night. I saw thee at the play. _Vic._ Sweet child of air! Never did I behold thee so attired And garmented in beauty, as to-night! What hast thou done to make thee look so fair? _Pre._ Am I not always fair? _Vic._ Aye, and so fair, That I am jealous of all eyes that see thee, And wish that they were blind. _Pre._ I heed them not; When thou art present, I see none but thee! _Vic._ There’s nothing fair nor beautiful, but takes Something from thee, that makes it beautiful. _Pre._ And yet thou leav’st me for those dusty books. _Vic._ Thou com’st between me and those books too often! I see thy face in every thing I see! The paintings in the chapel wear thy looks, The canticles are changed to sarabands, And with the learned doctors of the schools I see thee dance cachuchas. _Pre._ In good sooth, I dance with the learned doctors of the schools To-morrow morning. _Vic._ And with whom, I pray? _Pre._ A grave and reverend Cardinal, and his Grace The Archbishop of Toledo. _Vic._ What mad jest Is this? _Pre._ It is no jest. Indeed it is not. _Vic._ Pr’ythee, explain thyself. _Pre._ Why simply thus. Thou knowest the Pope has sent here into Spain To put a stop to dances on the stage. _Vic._ I’ve heard it whispered. _Pre._ Now the Cardinal, Who for this purpose comes, would fain behold With his own eyes these dances: and the Archbishop Has sent for me. _Vic._ That thou may’st dance before them. Now viva la cachucha! It will breathe The fire of youth into these gray old men, And make them half forget that they are old! ’Twill be thy proudest conquest! _Pre._ Saving one. And yet I fear the dances will be stopped, And Preciosa be once more a beggar. _Vic._ The sweetest beggar that e’er asked for alms;