Under these shadowy trees, where we have walked At evening, and I feel thy presence now; Feel that the place has taken a charm from thee And is forever hallowed. [_Exit._ _Hyp._ Mark him well! See how he strides away with lordly air Like that odd guest of stone—that grim commander Who comes to sup with Juan in the play. _Don C._ What ho! Victorian! _Hyp._ Wilt thou sup with us? [_Exeunt._ Scene III.—_Preciosa’s chamber. She is sitting near a table, working a scarf. A bird singing in its cage. The Count of Lara enters behind unperceived._ _Pre._ Thou little prisoner in a motley coat, That from thy vaulted, wiry dungeon singest, Like thee I am a captive. In my cage Imprisoned, bound with silken bands I stay, And my heart sings in its captivity. Would’st thou away? Is a grass-woven nest, That swings among green boughs, a better home? My cradle swung under the swinging forest, As well as thine. We will go back together. Dolores! (_Turning to lay her work down, perceives the Count._) Ha! _Lara._ Fair lady, pardon me! _Pre._ How’s this? Dolores! _Lara._ Pardon me— _Pre._ Dolores! _Lara._ Be not alarmed; I found no one in waiting. If I have been too bold— _Pre._ (_turning her back upon him._) You are too bold! Retire! retire, and leave me! _Lara._ My dear lady, First hear me! I beseech you, let me speak! ’Tis for your good I come. _Pre._ (_turning towards him with indignation._) Begone! begone! What means this outrage? What gives you the right Thus to insult an unprotected woman? You are the Count of Lara, but your deeds Would make the statues of your ancestors Blush on their tombs! Is it Castilian honor To outrage thus the honor of a maid? Is it Castilian pride to steal in here Upon a friendless girl, to do her wrong? O shame! shame! shame! that you, a nobleman, Should have so base a soul! _Lara._ I pray you, hear me! _Pre._ Should be so little noble in your thoughts As to send jewels here to win my love, And think to buy my honor with your gold As you would buy food in the market place! I have no words to tell you how I scorn you! Begone! The sight of you is hateful to me! Begone, I say! _Lara._ Be calm; I will not harm you. _Pre._ Because you dare not. _Lara._ I dare anything! Therefore beware! You are deceived in me. In this false world we do not always know Who are our friends and who our enemies. We all have enemies, and all need friends. Even you, fair Preciosa, here at court, Have foes, who seek to wrong you. _Pre._ If to this I owe the honor of the present visit, You might have spared the coming. Having spoken, Once more, I beg you, leave me to myself. _Lara._ I thought it but a friendly part to tell you