The village lies.
Vic. This path will lead us to it,
Over the wheat fields, where the shadows sail
Across the running sea, now green, now blue,
And like an idle mariner on the main
Whistles the quail. Come, let us hasten on. [Exeunt.
Scene II.—The public square of El Pardillo. The Ave Maria still tolling. A crowd of villagers, with their hats in their hands, as if in prayer. In front a group of Gipsies. The bell rings a merrier peel. A Gipsy dance. Enter Pancho, followed by Pedro Crespo.
Pan. Make room, ye vagabonds and gipsy thieves!
Make room for the Alcalde of Pardillo!