Graham's Magazine, Vol. XXI, No. 4, October 1842Various
General
Graham's Magazine, Vol. XXI, No. 4, October 1842
Various
Literature -- Periodicals; Literature, Modern -- 19th century -- Periodicals
_Pre._ O speak not in that tone!
It wounds me deeply.
_Vic._ ’Twas not meant to flatter.
_Pre._ Too well thou knowest the presence of that man
Is hateful to me!
_Vic._ Yet I saw thee stand
And listen to him, when he told his love.
_Pre._ Indeed, I heard him not.
_Vic._ Indeed thou did’st!
_Pre._ Such base suspicions are unworthy of thee!
Cast them away. Be not so angry with me.
_Vic._ I am not angry; I am very calm.
_Pre._ If thou wilt let me speak—
_Vic._ Nay, say no more.
I know too much already. Thou art false!
I do not like these gipsy marriages!
Where is the ring I gave thee?
_Pre._ In my casket.
_Vic._ There let it rest! I would not have thee wear it!
I thought thee spotless, and thou art polluted!
_Pre._ I call the Heavens to witness—
_Vic._ Nay, nay, nay!
Take not the name of Heaven upon thy lips!
They are forsworn!
_Pre._ Victorian! dear Victorian!
_Vic._ I gave up all for thee; myself, my fame,
My hopes of fortune, aye, my very soul!
And thou hast been my ruin! Now, go on!
Laugh at my folly with thy paramour,
And sitting on the Count of Lara’s knee,
Say what a poor, fond fool Victorian was!
(_He casts her from him and rushes out._)
Scene IV.—_The Count of Lara’s rooms. Enter the Count._
_Lara._ There’s nothing in this world so sweet as love,
And next to love the sweetest thing is hate!
I’ve learned to hate, and therefore am revenged.
A silly girl to play the prude with me!
The fire that I have kindled—
(_Enter Francisco._)
Well, Francisco,
What tidings from Don Juan?
_Fran._ Good, my lord;
He will be present.
_Lara._ And the Duke of Lermos?
_Fran._ He was not in.
_Lara._ How with the rest?
_Fran._ I’ve found
The men you wanted. They will all be there,
And at the given signal raise a whirlwind
Of such discordant noises that the dance
Must cease for lack of music.
_Lara._ Bravely done.
Ah! little dost thou dream, sweet Preciosa,
What lies in wait for thee. Sleep shall not close
Thine eyes this night! Give me my cloak and sword.
[_Exeunt._
Scene V.—_A retired spot beyond the city gates. Enter Victorian
and Hypolito._
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account