_Pre._ Some other time, then, when we meet again. You must not go away with words alone. (_Gives her a purse._) Take this. Would it were more. _Ang._ I thank you, lady. _Pre._ No thanks. To-morrow come to me again. I dance to-night—perhaps for the last time. But what I gain, I promise shall be yours, If that can save you from the Count of Lara. _Ang._ O my dear lady! how shall I be grateful For so much kindness! _Pre._ I deserve no thanks. Thank Heaven, not me. _Ang._ Both Heaven and you. _Pre._ Farewell! Remember that you come again to-morrow. _Ang._ I will. And may the blessed Virgin guard you, And all good angels. [_Exit._ _Pre._ May they guard thee too, And all the poor: for they have need of angels. Now bring me here, dear Dolores, my basquiña, My richest maja dress—my dancing dress, And my most precious jewels! Make me look Fairer than night e’er saw me! I’ve a prize To win this day, worthy of Preciosa! _Enter Beltram Cruzado._ _Cruz._ Ave Maria! _Pre._ Oh God! my evil genius! What seek you here to-day? _Cruz._ Thyself—my child. _Pre._ What is thy will with me? _Cruz._ Gold!—gold! _Pre._ I gave thee yesterday; I have no more. _Cruz._ The gold of the Busné—give me his gold! _Pre._ I gave the last in charity to-day. _Cruz._ That is a foolish lie. _Pre._ It is the truth. _Cruz._ Curses upon thee! Thou art not my child! Hast thou given gold away, and not to me? Not to thy father? To whom, then? _Pre._ To one Who needs it more. _Cruz._ No one can need it more, No one so much as I. _Pre._ Thou art not poor. _Cruz._ Not poor! not poor! what, I who lurk about In dismal suburbs and unwholesome lanes; I who am housed worse than the galley slave; I who am fed worse than the kenneled hound; I who am clothed in rags—Beltram Cruzado— Not poor! _Pre._ Thou hast a stout heart and strong hands. Thou canst supply thy wants; what wouldst thou more? _Cruz._ The gold of the Busné!—give me his gold! _Pre._ Beltram Cruzado! hear me once for all. I speak the truth. So long as I had gold, I gave it to thee freely, at all times— Never denied thee; never had a wish But to fulfill thine own. Now go in peace! Be merciful—be patient—and, ere long, Thou shalt have more. _Cruz._ And if I have it not, Thou shall no longer dwell here in rich chambers, Wear silken dresses, feed on dainty food, And live in idleness; but go with me— Dance the romalis in the public streets, And wander wild again o’er field and fell; For here we stay not long. _Pre._ What! march again? _Cruz._ Aye, with all speed. I hate the crowded town! I cannot breathe, shut up within its gates! Air—I want air—and sunshine—and blue sky,