_Dol._ Poor girl, she sleeps at last; yet hardly sleeps; She lives her sorrows o’er again in dreams, Doubling her grief. _Pre._ I must go hence, I say! Give me my cloak. _Dol._ She murmurs in her sleep. _Pre._ Go tell them that I cannot dance to-night— I am too ill. Look at me! See the fever That burns upon my cheek. I must go hence. I am too weak to dance. If you’re a man You will not ask it of me. _Dol._ She dreams still Of what has passed to-night. _Pre._ Did you say must? Then by the heavens I will not. Tell them so! Have they no feeling? I am not their slave. I must go hence. I pray you do not harm me! Shame—shame! to treat a feeble woman thus! Be you but kind, I will do all things for you. I’m ready now—give me my castañets. Where is Victorian? Oh, those hateful lamps! They glare upon me, like an evil eye. I cannot stay! Hark! how they mock at me! They hiss at me, like serpents! Save me! save me! (_She wakes._) _Dol._ Alas! poor girl! _Pre._ How late is it, Dolores? _Dol._ It is past midnight. _Pre._ And he has not come? He will not come to-night; and yet I thought He stood here by my side, and held my hand. We must be patient. Smooth this pillow for me. Thank thee. (_She sleeps again._) END OF THE SECOND ACT. * * * * * THE SMILE. I looked on Beauty when the sudden light Of Intellect and generous Feeling high Blazed on the Cheek and lightened in the Eye And Genius flashed from every feature bright! I looked on Beauty when a wild delight Laughed from beneath her silken lashes fair; And Mirth, awaking from her rosy lair, Led forth his dimples like the waves of Night When the full heaven of stars is shining there! But not the flash of Genius may compare, Nor the gay summer of the radiant cheek With the soft _Smile_ of twilight sweetness rare, On Beauty’s brow, which _thoughts of kindness_ wear When the Eye _looks_, more than the tongue may speak. * * * * * SILENT LOVE. BY MRS. EMMA C. EMBURY.