At forty I could not have said more. She still continued to smile, and murmured-- "Ah, my heavens, he loves me! but, _o mal hayas tu_," she added, "there is no such love on earth as that of which the poets sing and romances tell us." "It will ever be where you are, Prudentia," I continued, venturing to take her hand in mine, and feeling how fast a whirl of thoughts was coming over me. At that moment I heard a sound. It was like a cough behind the wainscot. I turned, but saw nothing. Had I looked more closely, a grey eye would perhaps have been discovered, glistening through a hole in the wood, from which a knot had fallen. "Oh no!" continued the señora, hurriedly; "Lopez de Rueda of Seville, Juan Timoneda, and Alonzo de la Vega, have all sung of love, and portrayed their lovers, but none such exist. Now hear me, señor," said she, gazing fully at me with her large dark eyes; "I would not, for the whole kingdom of Castile, be troubled with a regular fit of love, and all its accompaniments of hope, fear, and anxiety. Oh no! the whole ambition of my life has been to please and receive adulation--to dazzle and be adored--but at a distance. Now," she continued, withdrawing her hand and casting down her eyes, only to raise them more seducingly than ever; "oh! I love so to be surrounded by admirers; to hear the plaudits of the crowd--the shouts that ring from pit to ceiling; to see the lights, with the music, the scenery, the joyous dance; and could I give up all these to sit and mope beside a man--and that man my husband?--oh horror, never!" I might have been confounded by this morality, but for the tragi-comic tone in which she spoke, and the playful manner in which she had continued to draw off and on her tiny glove, to show the whiteness and beauty of her hand. "And do you think," said I, in the same manner, "that I can give up my hopes of glory and renown, the joyous society of my comrades, the pride of their achievements, the roll of the drum and the blare of the trumpet, to mope beside a woman, and that woman my wife? Remember the words of your countryman, Matias de los Rheyes. 'One would imagine, after considering how Adam lost his innocence, Samson his power, Asher his constancy, David his holiness, and Solomon his wisdom, by having a _wife_, that a man would examine what measure he possessed of all these good qualities, before he committed himself to the marriage state.' But is it really possible that one so beautiful cares not to be loved?" "I have not said so." "Ah, señora! I think that life would be valueless without the pleasures love strews on its way." My voice actually became tremulous. "Tut!" thought I; "'tis only a little actress." But she had the eyes of a queen! "And you love me--how droll it is!" "Dearest Prudentia," said I, becoming quite giddy with pleasure, as I timidly placed a hand on each side of her slender waist; "dearest Prudentia, with my heart--with my soul I do!"