Act III. A rocky and picturesque spot among rocks on a mountain. At

the rising of the curtain there is complete solitude. After a few moments a smuggler appears on the summit of a rock, then two, then the whole band, descending and scrambling down the mass of rocks. Among them are _Carmen_, _Don José_, _El Dancairo_, _El Remendado_, _Frasquita_, and _Mercedes_.

The opening chorus has a peculiarly attractive lilt.

_Don José_ is unhappy. _Carmen's_ absorbing passion for him has been of brief duration. A creature of impulse, she is fickle and wayward. _Don José_, a soldier bred, but now a deserter, is ill at ease among the smugglers, and finds cause to reproach himself for sacrificing everything to a fierce and capricious beauty, in whose veins courses the blood of a lawless race. Yet he still loves her to distraction, and is insanely jealous of her. She gives him ample cause for jealousy. It is quite apparent that the impression made upon her by _Escamillo_, the dashing toreador and victor in many bullfights, is deepening. _Escamillo_ has been caught in the lure of her dangerous beauty, but he doesn't annoy her by sulking in her presence, like _Don José_, but goes on adding to his laurels by winning fresh victories in the bull ring.

Now that _Don José_ is more than usually morose, she says, with a sarcastic inflection in her voice:

"If you don't like our mode of life here, why don't you leave?"

"And go far from you! Carmen! If you say that again, it will be your death!" He half draws his knife from his belt.

With a shrug of her shoulders _Carmen_ replies: "What matter--I shall die as fate wills." And, indeed, she plays with fate as with men's hearts. For whatever else this gypsy may be, she is fearless.

While _Don José_ wanders moodily about the camp, she joins _Frasquita_ and _Mercedes_, who are telling their fortunes by cards. The superstitious creatures are merry because the cards favour them. _Carmen_ takes the pack and draws.

"Spades!--A grave!" she mutters darkly, and for a moment it seems as if she is drawing back from a shadow that has crossed her path. But the bravado of the fatalist does not long desert her.

"What matters it?" she calls to the two girls. "If you are to die, try the cards a hundred times, they will fall the same--spades, a grave!" Then, glancing in the direction where _Don José_ stood, she adds, in a low voice, "First I, then he!"

The "Card Trio," "Mêlons! Coupons!" (Shuffle! Throw!) is a brilliant passage of the score, broken in upon by _Carmen's_ fatalistic soliloquy.

A moment later, when the leader of the smugglers announces that it is an opportune time to attempt to convey their contraband through the mountain pass, she is all on the alert and aids in making ready for the departure. _Don José_ is posted behind a screen of rocks above the camp, to guard against a surprise from the rear, while the smugglers make their way through the pass.

Unseen by him, a guide comes out on the rocks, and, making a gesture in the direction of the camp, hastily withdraws. Into this wild passage of nature, where desperate characters but a few moments before were encamped, and where _Carmen_ had darkly hinted at fate, as foretold by the stars, there descends _Micaela_, the emblem of sweetness and purity in this tragedy of the passions. She is seeking _Don José_, in hopes of reclaiming him. Her romance, "Je dis que rien ne m'épouvante" (I try not to own that I tremble), is characterized by Mr. Upton as "the most effective and beautiful number in the whole work." The introduction for horns is an exquisite passage, and the expectations it awakens are fully met by the melodious measures of the romance.

[Music]

Having looked about her, and failing to find _Don José_, she withdraws. Meanwhile _Don José_, from the place where he stands guard, has caught sight of a man approaching the camp. A shot rings out. It is _Don José_ who has fired at the man coming up the defile. He is about to fire again, but the nonchalant manner in which the stranger comes on, and, waving his hat, calls out, "An inch lower and it would have been all over with me!" causes him to lower his gun and advance to meet him.

"I am Escamillo and I am here to see Carmen," he says gaily. "She had a lover here, a dragoon, who deserted from his troop for her. She adored him, but that, I understand, is all over with now. The loves of Carmen never last long."

"Slowly, my friend," replies _Don José_. "Before any one can take our gypsy girls away, he must pay the price."

"So, so. And what is it?"

"It is paid with the knife," grimly answers _José_, as he draws his blade.

"Ah," laughs the _Toreador_, "then you are the dragoon of whom Carmen has wearied. I am in luck to have met you so soon."

He, too, draws. The knives clash, as the men, the one a soldier, the other a bullfighter, skilfully thrust and parry. But _Don José's_ is the better weapon, for, as he catches one of _Escamillo's_ thrusts on his blade, the _Toreador's_ knife snaps short. It would be a fatal mishap for _Escamillo_, did not at that moment the gypsies and smugglers, recalled by the shot, hurry in and separate the combatants. Unruffled by his misadventure, especially as his ardent glances meet an answering gleam in _Carmen's_ eyes, the _Toreador_ invites the entire band to the coming bullfight in Seville, in which he is to figure. With a glad shout they assent.

"Don't be angry, dragoon," he adds tauntingly. "We may meet again."

For answer _Don José_ seeks to rush at him, but some of the smugglers hold him back, while the _Toreador_ leisurely goes his way.

The smugglers make ready to depart again. One of them, however, spies _Micaela_. She is led down. _Don José_ is reluctant to comply with her pleas to go away with her. The fact that _Carmen_ urges him to do what the girl says only arouses his jealousy. But when at last _Micaela_ tells him that his mother is dying of a broken heart for him, he makes ready to go.

In the distance _Escamillo_ is heard singing:

"Toreador, on guard e'er be! Thou shalt read, in her dark eyes, Hopes of victory. Her love is the prize!"

_Carmen_ listens, as if enraptured, and starts to run after him. _Don José_ with bared knife bars the way; then leaves with _Micaela_.