Then Heav'n be praised for happier destiny
  Ne'er fell to lot of man. GIP. Q.                 Nay, not so fast;
  There're dangers still to pass, and thou must bear
  Thyself right bravely if thou would'st succeed. D. PAS. Dost doubt my courage, mother? My good blade
  Shall carve me fortune wheresoe'er it turns. GIP. Q. Hot headed youth! Guard well thy strength until
  'Tis needed. Thou art weak from loss of blood,
  And need'st repose e'er thou set forth to work. The sun is high in heaven. Ere nightfall
  Thou wilt have need of all thy youthful strength. Ere midnight I will lead thee to a wood,
  Accompanied by all my followers,
  From thence we must ascend a rugged path
  That leads to the tyrant's stronghold. D. PAS. What tyrant? GIP. Q. The nameless. Thy rival and thy father. D. PAS. Don Diego! 'Twas he, then, that yester-eve
  Did snatch the Lady Inez from my breast
  As I lay faint and bleeding? GIP. Q.             Ay, e'en he;
  And now he fain would marry her perforce,
  With or without her answer; he has sworn
  To wed her straight, scarce struck the midnight hour,
  And hurries on with most indecent haste
  This mockery of a marriage 'gainst the will
  And inclinations of the girl herself,
  And also 'gainst the wishes of her sire,
  Whom, poor man, the tyrant holds in 's power,
  As hawk doth hold a dove, obliging him
  To give consent to this most monstrous match
  With his fair daughter, only late arrived
  Home from the convent of St. Ursula
  (Albeit he knows not, I've the proofs in hand
  Of our real marriage. Read them an you list)
                                   [_Handing papers to Don Pascual._
  He needs must hasten on his base design,
  For fear of interruption. Be it ours
  To baulk this rabid eagle of his prey,
  Snatch from his reeking claws the innocent lamb,
  And rescue chastity from guilt's device. Let this be Pepa's mission upon earth,
  To succour virtue and avenge the wrong,
  And thou, Pascual, stand thou me true in this,
  Let no wrong pass, but quickly search it out,
  And boldly in the light of day proclaim
  The tyrant's wrong, in spite of odds or force. D. PAS. Mother, I swear. Fear not thou'lt find me apt;
  My sword is at thy service, e'en had I
  No more incentive to avenge thee than
  The sense of wrong that ever stirs my blood. But now I have my own more selfish ends
  To serve. The maid 'fore all most near my heart
  To rescue from the talons of a foe;
  The mother, too, who gave me birth to shield
  From foul dishonour, and the tyrant who
  Begat me, yet fain would dub me bastard,
  Still to chastise. With these wrongs to redress,
  Or e'en the half, what coward would not turn brave? What mouse would not turn lion? Rest in peace,
  This night thou art avenged. Pascual doth swear it. GIP. Q. Spoke like my own true son. And now to rest;
  Thou needest sleep, to calm thy jaded nerves,
  And brace thee for the work thou hast to-night. [_They embrace. Pascual throws himself upon his couch. Gipsy
          Queen sits watching him. Scene changes._


SCENE III.--_Inez' bedchamber in Don Silvio's castle; an old four posted
bed, with faded hangings--old faded tapestry. A prie-dieu in front of a
picture of our Lady of Pain. Crucifixes and pious relics adorn the
chambers. Don Silvio is discovered pleading earnestly. Inez weeping._

  INEZ. (_Tearing herself away._) Cease, father, cease; I cannot, dare
      not yield. How can you ask me, after all you've said? What! Wed a man I never saw before,
  A man whose age, too, full quadruples mine! And at a moment's notice! Fie! for shame! Was it for this then that you call'dst me home,
  To barter soul and body for mere gold? Is it not thus the lowest of our sex,
  Led on by glitter to fill Satan's ranks,
  Fall, ne'er to rise again? Ah! woe is me. Think, father, think. What could such union be
  Before the eyes of Heaven? Would it not
  Be foul adultery, base, incestuous lust? And this you'ld have from me, your only child? Oh, father! 'twas not thus that you once spake. Where are your noble maxims, father, now? Alas! alas! all scattered to the winds
  Before the first blast of the tempting fiend. D. SIL. (_Aside._) Now this is most just, by Heav'n! that I be
  Thus by my own child humbled and reproved,
  For falling back from truth in hour of trial. Dear inn'cent soul! How could she yield to terms
  Alike repugnant to her virgin heart
  As mine own conscience? But, then, what to do? Ah! cursed be the hour I gave consent
  Unto that monstrous pact! What would I give
  Now to undo the same, were't in my power? But my inexorable foe has sworn
  To have his bond, and Diego never jests. Most dire necessity doth bid me save
  Myself and household from disgrace and death. Ay, from starvation. Nothing short of that
  Should make me recreant to my conscience law. She, young and hopeful, realises not
  The want and misery that must ensue
  To us on her refusal. Be it so. Occasion presses. Time must not be lost. I will try again, though conscience brand me. (_Aloud._) Inez! INEZ. Father! D. SIL. Bethink thee, yet, my child. INEZ. Parent, no more! D. SIL. What am I, then, to do? I, thy poor agèd father, sent abroad
  To beg my bread. No shelter from the wind
  And rain. No food; no hospitable roof. Our servants, too, must all our ills endure;
  And all through thee, through thine own obdurate heart. But 'twill not serve thee. Not one whit, for though
  Thou still resist, Don Diego will use force;
  His myrmidons----

  INEZ. I fear them not, when God is on our side. This is a trial, and we must have faith. D. SIL. (_Desperate._) My child! Will nothing move thee? On thy head
  Will be thy father's blood. My life's at stake. INEZ. Think of thy soul, old man, and trust in God. Thou, who didst teach mine infant lips to pray,
  Canst thou not pray, or wilt thou learn of me
  Now thou art old? Hast thou no faith, father? D. SIL. Alas! alas! 'Tis many years these knees
  Have bowed no more in prayer. When I was young,
  And yet had faith, 'twas then I used to pray. INEZ. But now; Oh, father! Heaven! What can have caused
  This falling off of piety in age? For years not bent the knee unto thy God! I wonder not He hath abandoned thee. Come, learn of me. Look here. Gaze on this form,

        [_Snatches a crucifix from the wall, and thrusts it into Don
          Silvio's unwilling hands._

  This bleeding image. See this crown of thorns,
  These nails, that side thrust; and then learn how He
  Suffered and died for us. Canst thou not bear
  One little pang an 't be the will of Heaven? What is thy grief to His, who suffered more
  Than mortal man e'er suffered? Father, pray
  God will not desert those who trust in Him. D. SIL. Nay, thou art young and hopeful. I am old. INEZ. Kneel, father, kneel; and look not so downcast. Behold the blessed Virgin Mary, pierced
  And sorrowing for our sins. Come, father, kneel. Do as I do, and throw thyself before
  This blessed image, and repeat these words.