[_Exit._

        [_Don Silvio makes a gesture of despair, and curtain falls._

END OF ACT II. ACT III. SCENE I.--_Outside the castle of Don Silvio. The castle of Don Diego
seen in the background, upon the opposite peak of the mountain. Time:
Sunrise. Don Silvio and Donna Rodriguez._

  D. SIL. My tears still blind my eyes. Look out, Rodriguez,
  And see if there be traces of my daughter. Alas! alas! this hoary head is bowed
  As 'neath the weight of yet a score of years. Oh, Inez, Inez! What a fate is thine! An thy young life be spared, could ought repay
  Th' injury done thine honour at the hands
  Of these bold, lawless, gipsies? Woe is me! Let me not think on't, or I shall go mad. ROD. My lord, as I stand gazing towards the west,
  Methinks I see a dusty cloud advance;
  As were't a troup of horsemen at full speed,
  And bearing towards the castle. Now I see
  The limbs of horses and the arms of men;
  The sound of human voices, too, I hear,
  And, as they still approach, the distant tramp
  Of horses' hoofs is plainly audible. And now, unless my eyesight play me false,
  Foremost among a file of glittering pikes,
  I do discern Don Diego's waving plume. 'Tis he! and bearing at his saddle bow
  My mistress Inez. Oh, thank God! she's safe. Do you not hear, my master, what I say? Your daughter's safe! Come, cheer up, good my lord. D. SIL. (_Musingly_). Safe! didst thou say! My daughter's honour safe? ROD. How say you, sir? Her honor! Nay, her life? D. SIL. (_Musingly_). Life without honor! ROD. Sure, my lord's not well! (_Aside._) The blow has been too much for him, and turned
  His aged head. Oh, my poor, poor master! I tell him of his daughter's safe return,
  And straight he 'gins to prate about her honor. (_Aloud._) Look! look! Señor, at yonder cavalcade,
  How it sweeps along; and now, behold,
  Next to Don Diego is his servant Juan;
  And there is Pedro. Bless his good old soul! There the valiant hunter. Then all the crowd
  Of vassals and retainers, and the guard,        [_Cheers without._
  With the armed populace. Hark! What cheering! D. SIL. Is it, indeed, my daughter? Let me see;
  'Tis she, 'tis she; Oh, Inez! _Enter_ INEZ, _accompanied by_ DON DIEGO. _Behind_, PEDRO,
          JUAN, HUNTER, _and_ ATTENDANTS. INEZ. (_Embracing Don Silvio._)   Father! Father! ROD. My little mistress, Inez! What, no kiss
  For poor old nurse Rodriguez! INEZ. (_Embracing Rodriguez._)    Good Rodriguez! [_Don Diego comes forward, whilst Inez in the background
          appears to be relating her adventures to Don Silvio and
          Donna Rodriguez._

  D. DIE. (_Sotto._) What work I had to quell the dusky band,
  And carry off my prize. God only knows
  How the black caitiffs fought! Like demons damned;
  Incited on by their own swarthy queen,
  My former love. Bah! why recall the past,
  The ebullitions of a youthful lust,
  Now five-and-twenty years agone and more? And that at such a moment, too, as this,
  When, acting bridegroom for the second time,
  I now do lay my heart and hand, my wealth,
  My land, and castle, all my fair domain
  At fair Inez' feet. Poor Silvio's daughter! A few hour's more, and she will be my own. In my own private chapel at midnight,
  And not one minute later, there a priest
  Of my own choice, shall join our hands together. 'Twixt this and then, I must so use the time
  To win her fairly, and by wiles t'efface
  The prejudice young hearts by Nature have
  Against old age. If needs be, I must use
  Dissimulation and well act the saint,
  That she may not give credit to the tales
  That idle gossip may have crammed her with
  Against my moral character. And now
  I do bethink me that the readiest way
  Of all to win her over to my will
  Would be to tempt with goodly bribe her nurse
  (What will not such a woman do for gold?) To speak some little word in praise of me;
  Talk of my love for her, my name, my fame,
  My wealth, my virtues. How this match of hers
  Will please her aged father. And again,
  Should she be coy, and wickedly refuse
  The fortune heaven has strewed along her path,
  Let her reflect upon the consequences. I would act fair with her, for I'd be loath
  To lead to the altar an unwilling bride
  In sight of all my vassals and retainers. Yet, an she yield not (for as yet it seems
  She looks with cold suspicion on my suit),
  Why, then; why, then, however loath to use it,
  Force must accomplish all when goodwill fails. I cannot well expect much help at sixty
  From youthful graces, as when first I wooed
  My gipsy queen. _There!_ ever and anon
  From out the past these memories will arise,
  Like phantoms, threatening whether I will or no. Avaunt! begone! And yet I cannot choose
  But call to mind how, middle in the fray,
  The dead and wounded lying all around,
  Her dusky form arose before my path,
  And all undaunted stood with staff in hand
  And glance so terrible, I would as lief
  Meet with the King of Terrors face to face
  As that same virago. Yet there she stood,
  And with uplifted arm, in clear tones cried,
  "Traitor, beware! Thy star is on the wane,
  Think not to conquer always, for a hand
  Mightier than thine shall yet subdue thee. Blood is on thy hand. Thine own blood shall flow. The stars foretell thy downfall, so look to it." I heard no more, for I had barely placed
  My Lady Inez at my saddle bow,
  Mid smoke of carbines and the clash of arms:
  Myself with drawn sword cutting right and left,
  So could but pay slight heed to what she said,
  And set off homeward with my goodly prize,
  Leaving the baffled foe behind to moan. Yet, through the smoke and dust of horses' hoofs,
  Still, for a time, I heard the hellish cry:
  "Vengeance on the traitor! Vengeance, vengeance!" I know not why her words cut deeper than
  Had they been the words of any other;
  But from _her_ lips they came with such a force,
  They seemed to rend the air, and enter deep
  Into the very caverns of my soul,
  Turning my blood to milk, so that my arm
  Fell nerveless to my side, and my good blade
  Did well-nigh drop from out my hand. But hush! It never must be known that Don Diego,
  Though old in years, quailed before tongue of woman. Bah! away with all fear of childish threats. And, swarthy hag! do thou thy devilmost. [_Inez comes forward, between Don Silvio and Rodriguez. Don
          Silvio motions for Rodriguez to retire. Exeunt Rodriguez
          and attendants._

  INEZ. Nay, one thing still doth mar the joy I feel
  At having passed the dangers of last night. Though I stand safely on my father's hearth,
  And see him 'live and well, and know that I
  Have henceforth naught to fear, yet still my thoughts
  Will ever wander towards the gipsy camp,
  Close by the couch of that brave youth who fought
  At cost of his own life, to rescue me
  From out their hands. D. DIE. How say you, lady fair? What youth? You dream. 'Twas I who rescued you. INEZ. Your pardon, sir; but I was safe already.