_Hyp._ Enough! Let it end here! The Count of Lara Has shown himself a brave man, and Victorian A generous one, as ever. Now be friends. Put up your swords; for, to speak frankly to you, Your cause of quarrel is too slight a thing To move you to extremes. _Lara._ I am content. I sought no quarrel. A few hasty words Spoken in the heat of blood have led to this. _Vic._ Nay, something more than that. _Lara._ I understand you. Therein I did not mean to cross your path. To me the door stood open, as to others, But had I known the girl belonged to you Never should I have sought to win her from you. The truth stands now revealed; she has been false To both of us. _Vic._ Aye, false as hell itself! _Lara._ In truth I did not seek her; she sought me; And told me how to win her, telling me The hours when she was oftenest left alone. _Vic._ O cursed, cursed folly, to have loved her! Say, can you prove this to me? O pluck out These awful doubts, that goad me into madness! Let me know all—all—all! _Lara._ You shall know all. Here is my page, who was the messenger Between us. Question him. Was it not so, Francisco? _Fran._ Aye, my lord. _Lara._ If farther proof Is needful, I have here a ring she gave me. _Vic._ Pray let me see that ring! It is the same! (_Throws it upon the ground and tramples upon it._) Thus may she perish who once wore that ring! Thus do I spurn her from me; do thus trample Her memory in the dust! O Count of Lara, We both have been abused, been much abused! I thank you for your courtesy and frankness. Though, like the surgeon’s hand, yours gave me pain, Yet it has cured my blindness, and I thank you. I now can see the folly I have done, Though ’tis, alas! too late. So fare you well! To-night I leave this hateful town forever. Once more, farewell! Regard me as your friend. _Hyp._ Farewell, Sir Count. [_Exeunt Victorian and Hypolito._ _Lara._ Farewell! farewell! Thus have I cleared the field of my worst foe! I have none else to fear; the fight is done, The citadel is stormed, the victory won! [_Exit with Francisco._ Scene VI.—_Preciosa’s bed-chamber. Midnight. She is sleeping in an arm-chair, in an undress; Dolores watching her._