"Let him, in Heaven's name," returned Clara; and not to hear him she

stopped both ears with her hands, at which Dorothea was again surprised;

but turning her attention to the song she found that it ran in this

fashion:

Sweet Hope, my stay,

That onward to the goal of thy intent

Dost make thy way,

Heedless of hindrance or impediment,

Have thou no fear

If at each step thou findest death is near.

No victory,

No joy of triumph doth the faint heart know;

Unblest is he

That a bold front to Fortune dares not show,

But soul and sense

In bondage yieldeth up to indolence.

If Love his wares

Do dearly sell, his right must be contest;

What gold compares

With that whereon his stamp he hath imprest?

And all men know

What costeth little that we rate but low.

Love resolute

Knows not the word "impossibility;"

And though my suit

Beset by endless obstacles I see,

Yet no despair

Shall hold me bound to earth while heaven is there.

Here the voice ceased and Clara's sobs began afresh, all which excited

Dorothea's curiosity to know what could be the cause of singing so sweet

and weeping so bitter, so she again asked her what it was she was going

to say before. On this Clara, afraid that Luscinda might overhear her,

winding her arms tightly round Dorothea put her mouth so close to her ear

that she could speak without fear of being heard by anyone else, and

said:

"This singer, dear senora, is the son of a gentleman of Aragon, lord of

two villages, who lives opposite my father's house at Madrid; and though

my father had curtains to the windows of his house in winter, and

lattice-work in summer, in some way--I know not how--this gentleman, who

was pursuing his studies, saw me, whether in church or elsewhere, I

cannot tell, and, in fact, fell in love with me, and gave me to know it

from the windows of his house, with so many signs and tears that I was

forced to believe him, and even to love him, without knowing what it was

he wanted of me. One of the signs he used to make me was to link one hand

in the other, to show me he wished to marry me; and though I should have

been glad if that could be, being alone and motherless I knew not whom to

open my mind to, and so I left it as it was, showing him no favour,

except when my father, and his too, were from home, to raise the curtain

or the lattice a little and let him see me plainly, at which he would

show such delight that he seemed as if he were going mad. Meanwhile the

time for my father's departure arrived, which he became aware of, but not

from me, for I had never been able to tell him of it. He fell sick, of

grief I believe, and so the day we were going away I could not see him to

take farewell of him, were it only with the eyes. But after we had been

two days on the road, on entering the posada of a village a day's journey

from this, I saw him at the inn door in the dress of a muleteer, and so

well disguised, that if I did not carry his image graven on my heart it

would have been impossible for me to recognise him. But I knew him, and I

was surprised, and glad; he watched me, unsuspected by my father, from

whom he always hides himself when he crosses my path on the road, or in

the posadas where we halt; and, as I know what he is, and reflect that

for love of me he makes this journey on foot in all this hardship, I am

ready to die of sorrow; and where he sets foot there I set my eyes. I

know not with what object he has come; or how he could have got away from

his father, who loves him beyond measure, having no other heir, and

because he deserves it, as you will perceive when you see him. And

moreover, I can tell you, all that he sings is out of his own head; for I

have heard them say he is a great scholar and poet; and what is more,

every time I see him or hear him sing I tremble all over, and am

terrified lest my father should recognise him and come to know of our

loves. I have never spoken a word to him in my life; and for all that I

love him so that I could not live without him. This, dear senora, is all

I have to tell you about the musician whose voice has delighted you so

much; and from it alone you might easily perceive he is no muleteer, but

a lord of hearts and towns, as I told you already."




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