_Juanito_: Oh, you are such a funny man! Isn’t he, Sister Pilar? But you must come and play with us now.
_Juanito_: Bells of Sevilla ... ’tis about Don Juan Tenorio.
_Pepita_: But Sister Pilar will never dance, and it takes a big company.
_Juanito_: We’ll play it three. When we reach the word “grave” we all fall down flop. Come!
_They take hands and dance round, singing_:
Bells of Sevilla, Carmona, and all Toll, toll, as we carry the pall (Weep, doñas, weep.) For Don Juan the fairy (Chant _miserere_.) The lovely and brave Is cold in his grave.
_Juanito_: But we have none to sing the last _copla_ for us that we may spring up again. _Dear_ Sister Pilar, couldn’t you _once_?
_Her expression hardens and she again shakes her head. In the meantime, SISTER ASSUMCION has come up unobserved, and suddenly in a clear, ringing voice, she begins to sing_:
Into the earth, priest, lower the bier, The glory of Seville is withered and sere (Weep, doñas, weep.) But Don Juan Tenorio (Carol the _gloria_.) With a caper so brave Leaps up from the grave.
_They all jump up laughing. DENNYS stares at SISTER ASSUMCION with a bold and, at the same time, dazzled admiration. The sun seems suddenly to shine more brightly upon them and the children. SISTER PILAR is in the shadow._
_Nine o’clock in the evening of the same day. The convent’s orange orchard. From the chapel is wafted the voices of the nuns singing Compline. A horse whinnies from the other side of the orchard wall._
_Don Manuel de Lara_ (_who all through this scene is at the other side of the wall and hence invisible_): Whist! Muza! Whist, my beauty! (_sings_):
Ave Maria gloriosa Virgen Santa, preciosa, Cómo eres piadosa Todavía!
_SISTER ASSUMCION enters as he sings and walks hurriedly towards the wall._
Gracia plena, sin mancilla, Abogada, Por la tu merced, Señora, Faz esta maravilla Señalada.
_Don Manuel de Lara_ (_quickly and tonelessly, as if repeating a lesson_): Oh, disembodied voice! Like the cuckoo’s, you tell of enamelled meads watered by fertile streams and of a myriad small hidden beauties that in woods and mountains the spring keeps sheltered from men’s eyes.
_Sister Assumcion_ (_laughing softly_): Sir knight, howbeit I have never till this moment heard your voice, yet I can tell ’tis not an instrument tuned to these words.