No More Learning

Enter VICTORIAN, with a
letter. )

Vict. The muleteer has come.

Hyp. So soon?

Vict. I found him
Sitting at supper by the tavern door,
And, from a pitcher that he held aloft
His whole arm's length, drinking the blood-red wine.

Hyp. What news from Court?

Vict. He brought this letter only.

(Reads. )

O cursed perfidy! Why did I let
That lying tongue deceive me! Preciosa,
Sweet Preciosa!
how art thou avenged!

Hyp. What news is this, that makes thy cheek turn pale,
And thy hand tremble?

Vict. O, most infamous!
The Count of Lara is a worthless villain!

Hyp. That is no news, forsooth.

Vict. He strove in vain
To steal from me the jewel of my soul,
The love of Preciosa. Not succeeding,
He swore to be revenged; and set on foot
A plot to ruin her, which has succeeded.
She has been hissed and hooted from the stage,
Her reputation stained by slanderous lies
Too foul to speak of; and, once more a beggar,
She roams a wanderer over God's green earth
Housing with Gypsies!

Hyp. To renew again
The Age of Gold, and make the shepherd swains
Desperate with love, like Gasper Gil's Diana.
Redit et Virgo!

Vict.