PALICIO

PALICIOA ROMANTICDRAMADRAMATIS PERSONÆHUGOViceroy of Sicily.LIVIOhis son, lover of Margaret.MANUELChief Justiciary, betrothed to Constance.PHILIP, DukeSpanish commissioner.FERDINANDhis secretary.BLASCOa Sicilian count.MICHAEL ROSSOa surgeon, lover of Margaret.GIOVANNI PALICIObrigand.SQUARCIALUPUhis lieutenant.MARGARETsister to Manuel.CONSTANCEdaughter to Hugo.LUCIAservant to Margaret.Brigands, soldiers, messengers, servants.The scene is in PALERMO, and sometimes in the hills above MONREALE.Time, Spanish occupation of Sicily.PALICIOACT · ISCENE · 1Palermo. Reception-room in the Palace.BLASCO and FERDINAND.BLASCO.Haveyou not been in Sicily before?FERDINAND.Never.Bl.And, sir, what think you of Palermo?Have you as fine cities in Spain?Fer.Your city,Approached by sea or from the roofs surveyed,Smiles back upon the gazer like a queenThat hears her praise. Nearer to speak I’ll grudge not,When I may nearer know: but since we cameThere’s been no hour a stranger might dare shewHis face in the streets.Bl.The time is now unquiet.10Fer.Rather I’d say government given overTo murderous bandits, who range up and downUnchecked: to whom the king’s commissionersWere just the daintiest pricking. If I may bragOf home, our cities are more orderly.Bl.’Tis a hot-blooded race, sir, full of stirrings,Subject to fermentation, and like good wineEver the better for it.Fer.But can you tell meThe real cause of these disturbances?Bl.Nothing is easier, sir. Your viceroy, Hugo,20This is the point, is plunged in disesteem.He has lost the fear and won the hate of the people.Already, ere ye came, the news ye bringOf the king being dead, was buzzed. Since at his deathHis viceroy’s office falls to ground, our townsmenSeize on this interval, wherein they holdHe hath no jurisdiction, to discredit him,Kill him maybe, if nothing else will hinderHis reappointment. They but make the mostOf their occasion: that is all.Fer.But how30Can a mere handful of such ruffians holdThe city, when the loyal troops are his?Bl.’Tis known to the people that their cause hath foundAn ear in Spain: and here among the baronsAre many who wish well to the revolt.Should Hugo push to extremes he might discoverMost potent enemies. Remember, sir,’Twas a street scuffle in this very town,That drave the French from Sicily.Fer.The thoughtBrings me no comfort.Bl.Wherefore ’tis his policy40To meet the present rage by such concessionsAs may be popular, and to give forthThe king is ill, not dead. ’Tis for this reasonNo mass is sung nor mourning liveries worn:To-night’s festivity, such as it is,Hath only this pretence.Fer.Are the two ladiesHis daughters both?Bl.The taller and the fairer,The lady Constance, is his only daughter.Your fine duke Philip, who comes now from courtWith such a mightiness, was once her lover.Fer.That doth not single her.50Bl.But then it did.She was his first. ’Twas when duke Philip’s fatherWas viceroy here; Hugo was then chief justice,And Manuel, who succeeded him, was onlyYoung Philip’s tutor;—he succeeds moreoverNow to his pupil’s leavings, and will marryThe long-forgotten Constance.Fer.’Twas the otherI asked of, in white satin, she who satOn Philip’s right at supper; who is she?Bl.That, sir, is Margaret.Fer.And who is Margaret?Bl.Sister to Manuel.60Fer.She far outshinesHer future sister.Bl.They that can see have thought it:And, sir, ’twill tax your better wit to addA tittle to her full accustomed homage.Your broken heart were but a pinch of pepperSprinkled on porridge. Now for full two yearsHer reign hath made a melancholy madnessThe fashion ’mongst our youth.Fer.I should much likeTo be presented.Bl.O, sir, at your will.Judge for yourself. See, here they come. (Aside.) A moth!Fer.(aside). A very civil fellow.[They retire to back.EnterR.Hugo,Philip,Manuel,Margaret,Constance and Livio.HUGO.I am sorry, your grace,71We make so small a party. For our poorReception, and for all shortcomings else,Accuse the occasion.PHILIP.I think, your excellence,I cannot play the guest. This house was onceSo long my home, that here I look to findAs little ceremony as I fear I have shewn.Hu.So should it be. Make it your home again.Ph.I shall forget I have ever been away.MANUEL.Five years.Ph.Ay, but five years of wandering,80Such as can but endear one’s home the more.My memory still would serve me to walk blindfoldFrom any point of the city to these doors.Man.What is your memory for our studies, Philip?Ph.Too slippery for my profit. Yet the pleasureLives very brightly;—nay, I could but nameOne deprivation I have more regretted.MARGARET.But nowMy brother has a new philosophy.Ph.Ah! If you share the secret, and I be thoughtWorthy of initiation, may I hear it?Mar.And welcome. Manuel, in his deep research91For the first cause and harmony of things,Hit upon both together—they are one:’Tis love. And now, since I profess it not,And since ’twas learnt of you...Man.(to Mar.).Hush, sister, hush!Ph.I am very proud of such a pupil. (Aside.) SinceHe has learned my love so readily, it may beThat he may catch my jealousy—Hu.Come, duke,Sit here by me. There’s more to talk of. Livio,Fetch us the papers.Philip crosses toL.and sits by Hugo.Man.(crossing toR.). They must grant us, Constance,100A moment now. All day I have been away,And yesterday I saw you not at all.Can you forgive a lover so remiss?CONSTANCE.I fear I half deserve your fear.Man.The timeCan be but short, but it shall make amends.[They talk together.Bl.(coming forward with Fer.). Fair lady Margaret,Count Ferdinand of Vergas; I present himAt his desire.Fer.Your ladyship’s true servant.Mar.I am much honoured.Fer.Lady, ’tis worth the painsTo cross from Spain to see you.Mar.From that I guess110That you are a better sailor than the duke.Fer.Nay, you judge wrong.Mar.Have you then ate no dinner?Fer.Now if I had not, I’d blame your stormy townBefore the sea for that: since we left shipWe are cabined in this house; to pass the doorWere to leap overboard in a whole gale.Mar.I fear this is no country for you, sir,If noises in the street keep you indoors.LIVIO.Take warning, count; Sicily’s fairest roseBlooms on an angry plant.Mar.But we can boast120Of warriors that for fragrance shame the rose.(To Liv.) Is’t musk to-day?Liv.(to Fer.).I told you.Enter MessengerR.,crosses to HugoL.MESSENGER.This paper, sire, is posted thro’ the town.Hu.Eh, eh! what have we here?[Reads.Citizens of Palermo, King Pedro is dead. God rest his soul! The office of Viceroy being vacant, the Parliament of townsmen, assembled in the church of San Lorenzo, have this day elected Manuel to be your viceroy, in place of Hugo. Death to Hugo! Long live the king!Why, Manuel, what’s this parliament?130Man.I knowNo more than doth your excellence. But ’tis plainThat they are orderers who put on a dressOf regular authority; they useThe senatorial voice, and over allThey have now usurped my name to have it thoughtThat I have set their hatch.[Shouts without of “Death to Hugo! The Despatches!”]Ph.Here comes the parliament.Hu.Now this is what I feared. Manuel, I pray you,Go to the balcony, you have their ear;Use then your credit.Man.What, sire, shall I say?140Hu.Well, you should know.Liv.(to Man.).Look, if they ask to hearThe last despatches, gull them with some paper;Which while you show, you make as if therefromYou read the king’s not dead.Ph.(to Liv.).Nay, Livio:The word is wanted for a troop of horse.My father never would have brooked this insultFrom such a mob.Liv.Our soldiers are not idle.They laid hands yesterday upon the chiefAnd head of all, one John Palicio.We have certain information that the rebels150Cannot be kept together but by him.Hark! they are quiet now.Hu.(to Man. returning). What is your charmTo win such meek obedience?Man.They’re gone, your excellence;But not from aught I said: for ere I spokeSome rumour reached them, and the skirt of the throng,That far beyond my hearing stood apartIn scattered groups, broke hastily away:Then the next ranks shed off; and then the nextLoosened and followed them: till the voice cameTo the very midst and huddle, where they pressedWith upturned faces; then all heads went down,161And with a cry they fled.Hu.Whither?Man.I thinkTo the prison, my lord.Enter a Soldier.Hu.What now? give me thy matter.SOLDIER.The prisoner Palicio is escaped.He killed his guards, and fled beyond pursuit.Ph.(to Liv.). Why, is not this the man you spoke of?Liv.Ay,That is the man.Hu.Let the patrol be doubled for the night,And give not o’er the search. Alive or dead,A hundred florins to whoever finds him.169Blasco, go see to it: he must not escape.Bl.(aside). But if he be escaped, who’s viceroy then?[Exit with soldier.Hu.This same Palicio, duke, is the chief rebel:While he was caged, I could despise the rest.But he’s a dangerous fellow; bred in the hills,He is yet of noble blood and high descent:A proud and lofty temper, that hath takenA graft of wildness, and shot forth afreshIn base luxuriance. Tho’ yet unbearded,Bandits and exiles own him; and the people,Who hold such men in honour, can be drawn180But by his name to any enterprise.’Tis he that with his bread-tax cry hath stirredThe commons to rebel, and be he ’scapedClear, as ’tis thought, there will be more ado.I’ll not so much as vouch, duke, for your safety,If you should sleep in the palace.Man.Let the dukeCome to my house. What say you?Hu.What say you, Philip?They would not seek you there.Ph.If ’tis your wish.I would not bring you trouble. (To Fer.) Ferdinand,These papers must be copied: take them straightInto your chamber.[Exit Ferdinand.190Hu.’Tis but truth, your grace,We may be driven hence. The people’s cryIsSack and fire the palace.Mar.See if LivioHave not gone pale! Now, Livio, if you think’Tis safer at our house, for pity’s sakeSpare your complexion and come back with us.Liv.No doubt that sleep were sweeter, and all things elseBeneath thy roof, lady: and came there danger,That my sword might protect thee...Mar.The heavens shield us,When we be left to that.Liv.Didst thou not treatAll men with like contempt, I were much wronged:201But there’s none thou wilt praise.Mar.Now, if I neededA man to look at, I would pass my timeSearching for this Palicio. As for you,When you can lead the people, and cut your wayThro’ guards and prison walls, and get a priceSet on your head ... I’ll marry you.Man.Come, sister,This goes too far.Mar.Why, no. Be generous.If I be wrong, what makes you ill at easeWhen this man’s free? Palicio is in prison,210And all goes cheerfully; you sit to feast,You have no care, a joke will raise a laugh.Palicio is escaped—hey! at that newsWhat blackness reigns! Forgive me, friends; I seeThis man’s your master, and I like him for it.Bravery I love, and there’s no cause so poorIt cannot justify.Hu.If we should take him,I’ll send him to you stuffed.Mar.Is that a speechOne should forgive?Man.Enough. We take our leave.We pass by a private way, duke.219Ph.I come with you.Good-night.All.Good-night.[Exeunt Philip, Manuel, and Margaret.Hu.(to Con.).And you to bed.Con.I pray there’s nought to fear?Hu.Nay, nay. Good-night, child; sleep you sound.Con.Dear father,Heaven keep you safe. Good-night.Hu.Fear not for me.[Exit Constance.Hark, Livio.I have learned somewhat from Philip: the Spanish courtIs open to my enemies. My best hopeIf things go worse will be to sail for SpainAnd face them boldly there. ’Tis an extremity’Twere best to avoid: but since my hands are tiedI may be forced; and am so far resolved,230That if Palicio now should raise the town,And come to attack the palace, I shall fly.I have had a way cut thro’ the chapel wall,Whence by a covered passage I can reachThe harbour, where I keep a ship prepared.Thee I must leave. But let this news be spread,That Philip is with Manuel; it may serveTo draw the people thither—his being hereWould have impeded my escape. And firstWe’ll go the rounds, and see that at all pointsThe watch is strong and wakeful. Come with me.[Exeunt.SCENE · 2Hall in Manuel’s house. Enter PALICIO in woman’s clothes, bleeding, a dagger in his hand.PALICIO.No one, no sound. Can I hide here I am safe.242I have given the curs the slip, if I can hide.Safe ... But this wound, the blood runs like a river:Unless they track me by it I am clear—so far.A paltry stab. I’ll bind it round and tie itTo stop the blood—so, so. Now, where to hide?For here is no protection; ’tis the houseOf the chief justiciary ... a doubtful ’scapeFrom prison here. Yet when I saw the wall’Twas home; then, oh, my God! this flip-flap gear251Shackling my knees—Over! ha, ha! the foolsWill never guess that leap. But I must hide:Slip out ere morn: or if not that, be bold,Give myself up to Manuel. Is that hope?Manuel the just. ’Twere best reserve that hopeTill others fail. Hark!—steps. Where can I get?Behind this curtain—so.[Hides.Enter Manuel, Philip, Margaret, and Servant.MANUEL(to servt.).Giuseppe, show the duke my room.(To Ph.) Taking us unawares o’erlook, I pray,The want of ceremony. You will find all comfortFor sleep or wakefulness.PHILIP.260This is the flowerOf hospitality. Now, for old sakes,I’d beg some meaner shift, to prove me mindfulOf ancient benefits.MARGARET.O, be content:My brother’s luxury will not o’erwhelm youWith obligation.Man.Rest you well. Good-night!Mar. and Ph.Good-night![Exit Philip with servant.Man.Margaret!Mar.My brother!Man.You did ill to-night.Mar.Forgive me. I said in jest you had learned your loveFrom Philip. I was sorry.269Man.Nay, what’s that?Yet ’twas ill said, and may have wounded Philip;Though he must wish us to assume there’s nothing’Twixt him and Constance: and now he’s our guestWe must not let our courtesy be taintedBy his own lightness; nay, the tales told of himAre nought to us. He’s of a generous nature,And not forbidding to what faults besetHis age and rank. But we make no man betterBy lower estimation; an open kindlinessAnd trust may help him; let us use such toward him.Mar.I will. But then what was’t I said?Man.Ah! Why,281Your praise of John Palicio. See you not’Twill injure me with Hugo? Our relationsAre tried by public matters: ’tis in the scopeOf private intercourse to ease the strain,Or force the rupture.Mar.Brother, I am very sorry.I thought ...Man.I do not blame your thought. I grantThese Spaniards are bad masters. First they wreckedThis island to possess it; then the prize,Which kindness might have much enriched, is stripped290Even to the bone by cruelty and rapine.Their viceroy too, this Hugo—a man who governsBut to be governor, and even at thatFails like a fool. To see the folk misruledMore grieves me than to see the folk misled.And if they have much cause to rise, there’s noneHath more to lead them, than the native outlaw,Whom you so praised.Re-enter Servant.Mar.Then you forgive me, brother?Man.Well, well, good-night!Mar.Good-night![Exit.Man.Giuseppe, prepareThe little room at the end of the corridor;300I will sleep there. I shall not want thee more.[Exit servant.It matters not what happens, day by dayThe rupture grows. ’Tis plain Hugo and IAre foes at heart—and what a pitiful trickTo put the question of my marriage by,Withholding his consent just for the thought,That while my happiness hangs on his nod,I must be closer bound to serve his interest,Now, when his credit totters. Doth he not knowThat honourable minds, thro’ very fear310Of their self-interest, are thrust awayBeyond their counter-judgment? Nay, ’tis clearHe falls, he falls; and were’t not now for Constance,I’d gladly see him fall.Palicio comes forward.A woman here!Why, who art thou?Pal.Hush, hush! I am no woman.[Lays his dagger on the table.Draw not your sword. See here my dagger.Man.Ha!And bloodied freshly.Pal.Let me bar the door.[Goes to door.Man.Why, can it be?—Pal.I am Palicio.Man.Thou here!Pal.You see.Man.From prison?Pal.Escaped, thank God!I skirmished with my guards, and being pursued320Came thro’ your orange garden. Here none will seek me.Hide me!Man.Thee, madman, here?Pal.Ay, call me madman.I am mad, and praise God for it ... if to hate tyrantsBe madness, I’m past cure: or if ’tis madnessTo escape from prison ...Man.Nay, neither. I blamed thee notIn these; but that thou thinkest to overbearThe troops of Spain with thy small brigand crew:To escape from justice flying to my house,—The chief justiciary.Pal.What will you do?Man.Return thee straight to prison.Pal.First, I beseech you,Help me to bind my wound.330Man.Art thou much hurt?Pal.A thrust in the arm, a petty prick, which yetBleeds uncontrolledly.Man.Undo it. It spurts.Hold here thy hand, while with thy handkerchiefI bind thy arm.Pal.Look you, ’tis lower down.Man.Peace, man! ’Twill stay the blood to bind thee here.Hast thou no other hurt?Pal.Nay, none but this.And see, ’tis staunched already. I must thank you,Tho’ here your help should end. Call in the hirelings;They’ll not be far. I will go back with them.340And yet ’twere pity; for ’tis certain death:I have killed three of them. Manuel, I pray you—I pray you, Manuel, crush not all my hopes,My just cause. Give me a sword and a man’s dress,And let me forth to try my fortune!Man.Nay.Pal.Then if I take my dagger and venture out ...[Takes it.I’ll yet escape. Deny me not this chance.See, I’ll not ask your leave, but only go.[Going.Man.Giovanni, stay. Thou hast done me a great wrongIn flying here. Why didst thou choose my house?350Pal.’Twas as I fled for life: the hue-and-cryCame gathering faster round me: being still clear,And seeing your wall, it seemed my safety layIn that leap, could I make it.Man.Thou’rt the last,And only offspring of a noble stock.The blood that I have staunched in thy veins,Sprang from the heart of Sicily, and flowsRedder than mine, tho’ mine too once was mixed,And not unworthily, with thine, and nowFrom my great grandsire’s marriage both our bloods360Are even as one, and thy blood on my handsIs mine, and mine within my veins is thine.I cannot send thee to thy death, Giovanni;I may not shelter thee from justice: See,Thou hast done me a grievous wrong.Pal.Yet hide me awhile.This house may be my prison.Man.Thou hast this hope:The king being dead ...Pal.Is’t true that Pedro is dead?Man.Ay, true enough.Pal.Then are you free. I am safe.[Puts dagger in his bosom.Man.I say this is thy hope. The king being dead,370Such offices as hold under the crownNeed confirmation. Now I do not sayAllegiance lapses; but, if I be quickTo guess the new king’s will, that he will changeOur viceroy—which I doubt not,—I may be boldNow to withhold my duties from a servantDiscredited, contending that they hangUpon my judgment, for my deeds to giveAfter-account. See, ’tis a subtle pointI strain for thee, rather than hurt the claim380Of kinship. Thou shalt be my prisonerFor these few days. By chance I have a roomFit for thy lodging: there I’ll shew thee now,And thence thou must not stir. I’ll bring thee food,Look to thy wants, and try to cure thy wound.Thou on thy part must lie as still as oneThat hushes for his life. What, man; thou’rt faintFor loss of blood, and strain? Cannot you stand?Stand up, or I must carry you. Indeed,Carry him I must ... see, now, where be my keys?[Going, carrying Palicio.ACT · IISCENE · 1Hall in Manuel’s house. MARGARET and CONSTANCE.MARGARET.390Sweet, happy Constance, tell me why thou sighest.What can’st thou lack?CONSTANCE.I am not very happy.Mar.Not happy, thou? Woe for the world! I thoughtLove was God’s perfect recipe, to drowseAll mortal stings. Yet sainted marriage hathOne threat—the loss of liberty: is’t that?It well may fright. To have been a girl with meSo long, and make at last the outrageous stroke,And live as do our aunts! Were’t not my brother,I’d kill the man.Con.Margaret!Mar.Well mayst thou sigh:I can sigh for thee.400Con.I should love to hear thee.Thou owest me sighs, for mine were thoughts of thee.Mar.Because I love not? Hast thou forgot alreadyLife may be tolerable for a womanWithout thy joy?Con.You treat poor LivioUnkindly, Margaret.Mar.Now, if that’s the grief,We have threshed it out before.Con.I shall not spare you,Till you are kinder.Mar.Yet if I were kinder,And he should build a hope upon that kindness,Until it proved unkinder than unkindness?Con.He loves you well.Mar.No better than the others;411Than Ventimiglia loves, or Chiaramonte,Good Michael Rosso, or the impudent Blasco,Or my new courtier Ferdinand.Con.He lovesWith all his heart. Life is as tedious to himAs to the dark and dusty wheel, which jerksBehind the dial-face, until he see you;When for his joy you give him but disdain.Mar.Thou didst not tell him thou wouldst speak for him?Con.Why not?Mar.Now I, Constance, have something fresh:A mystery.Con.A mystery?420Mar.Yes, a mystery.Guess what it is.Con.How should I guess?Mar.Indeed,Guessing would never wind it.Con.Then, prithee, tell me.Mar.I died to tell thee ere thou camest, and nowI grudge it sadly. Yet, for the fresh mount’Twill give thy thoughts, I’ll tell. ’Twas yesternight,Just on the stroke of one ...Con.’Tis not a ghost?Mar.If after all ’twere but a ghost!Con.Come, tell me.Mar.Thou wilt not breathe a word?Con.No, not a word.Mar.Thou know’st the casement of my bedroom looks430Across the court. There as I stood last night,Watching the moon awhile, ere I shut outThe sleepless splendour from my dreams, I heardA heavy step pass down the gallery.’Tis Manuel, I thought, who goes to lieIn the little chamber at the back,—for PhilipHad his;—but, for some strangeness in the stepPricked my attention, and to content my thought,I lent my ear to the sound, until it reachedThe door at the end: there, standing by the window440I saw him plain: ’twas he, but in his armsA woman, fainting as I thought, or dead.Her arms hung loose, and o’er his shoulder thrownHer head fell back.Con.A woman! art thou sure?Mar.He could not carry a ghost. Besides, this morningI watched him: he took thither meat and drink,And locked the door, and strictly bade the servantsThey should not enter.Con.Hast thou questioned him?Mar.I have not so much as let him speak with me.He might forbid me: and, O my curiosity,I must know more.450Con.What dost thou think to learn?Mar.I have neither guess nor hope; I lay awakeAn hour, and thought of fifty things, not oneOf any likelihood. In all romanceNo lady in distress ere came at midnightTo the house of the chief justice. I could wishThis beauteous maiden were a young princessFled o’er the seas disguised.Con.Then thou couldst seeWhat she was like.Mar.Why, no,—how could I see?I only saw that she was dark.Con.Thou saidstThat she was beautiful.460Mar.Of course she is youngAnd beautiful. Why,—you are not jealous, Constance?Con.Not jealous, no.Mar.And the only pity of itIs that she’ll prove in the end a poor relationFall’n to our care, or some more hapless girlLeft on the doorstep dying.Con.In such case,What were the need of secrecy?Mar.I wishI had never told thee aught. Why shouldst thou fancyImpossibilities?Con.What is impossible?Mar.I fear now that the sight of thy old love,470Philip the false, hath turned thy happier trust.Thou’rt changed.Con.Nay, nay: I am not: and yet ’tis trueHis coming is my trouble.[Weeps.Mar.Forgive me, sweetest.Con.Margaret, you know I have none at all but youTo unfold my heart to: only you can tellWhat I must feel at his return: you knowHow far I loved, how much I was deceived.His oaths of faith you heard from me, and sharedThe joy of my delusion: and at last,When he deserted me, you made your heart480The prison of my sorrows: you exhorted,—O, you advised me well,—Be sure, you said,Love that so breaks cannot be trusted more.You bade me cast it off like an ill dream.You found what life he led: how he profanedHis honourable passion in the playOf errant gallantries. All that sad timeI leaned on you, and ’twas your friendship gaveThe occasions whence my love with Manuel sprung.You led me still, you gave me confidence;490Your comfort turned to joy, Manuel was mine.When suddenly on some mysterious causeHe holds aloof: my joy is bid await.O, Margaret, if you understood love’s joy,How closely ’tis inwoven with fear to lose,You would not wonder that I tremble, seeingThis shadow blot my sunshine, that my fearDiscolours every circumstance. To meThe common course of things on which men countIs the only miracle, all chances elseAs they are feared are likely. O, do not blame me.501Philip is like an evil spirit beside meThat stands to smile on what I dread to think.Mar.Philip being false can give no cause to doubtOf Manuel’s faith.Con.I doubt him not: and yetIf I speak of my brother you only laugh,But if you speak of yours ...Mar.Round, round again.Betwixt our brothers grant some difference.Thy Livio is a boy of slender parts,Led by his passions. Manuel is a man510Austere and stern; he is above suspicion.Con.I do not doubt his truth, but find such sternnessUnkind to love. My brother’s love for youIs simple: Manuel’s love hath some reserve;A veil, behind which, since I have never seen,I have dreamed or feared a terror lay: ofttimesWhen I have been with him, a pleasant hourHas ended suddenly, as if his spiritWas angered, and withdrew: then in his eyesIs nothing left but barren contemplation,520To which I am an object as another;Until he sighs, as conscious of the change.The disappointment of our marriage bringsScarce a regret to him: I heard him speakLate to my father of it, as ’twere a thingHe held indifferently. There is some secretWhich I would know: maybe this is a clue.Mar.What is the clue?Con.This lady.Mar.O, thou’rt sick.But I can cure thee, wilt thou do my bidding.Con.What would you bid?Mar.Give rein to jealousy,530Ay, spur it on to falling. Fear the worst,Believe the worst. Thou shalt suspect my brother;He trifles, loves this lady: choose your tale:Thou wilt not doubt again.Con.I do not doubt him.Nay, I will bid him tell me all.Mar.And soBetray thy doubt to him. Be wiser, madam!Look to thy cure: indulge thy jealousy:To which end I encourage it. Indeed,I am come to think there’s cause, and thy suspicionHath much enhanced my mystery. Go thou home:540There make thyself unhappy. I meanwhileWill root this out, and since I am housekeeperI can go where I will.Con.I pray thee, Margaret ...Mar.I must be jealous where my brother is wronged.Thou art the accuser, and the evidenceTells now for thee: ’tis my part to acquit us.Hinder me not.Con.When wilt thou know?Mar.Maybe’Tis as thou fearest.Con.Wilt thou mock me so?Mar.I bid thee go. Be sure I’ll come to thee,Or send thee word.Con.But when?Mar.I make no promise.550I cannot pity thee, and till thou goestI can do nothing.Con.Promise me to send.Mar.I have promised that. Farewell!Con.To-day?Mar.To-day.Trust me, I go at once.[Exeunt.SCENE · 2

A ROMANTICDRAMA

HUGOViceroy of Sicily.LIVIOhis son, lover of Margaret.MANUELChief Justiciary, betrothed to Constance.PHILIP, DukeSpanish commissioner.FERDINANDhis secretary.BLASCOa Sicilian count.MICHAEL ROSSOa surgeon, lover of Margaret.GIOVANNI PALICIObrigand.SQUARCIALUPUhis lieutenant.MARGARETsister to Manuel.CONSTANCEdaughter to Hugo.LUCIAservant to Margaret.Brigands, soldiers, messengers, servants.

The scene is in PALERMO, and sometimes in the hills above MONREALE.

Time, Spanish occupation of Sicily.

PALICIO

Palermo. Reception-room in the Palace.

BLASCO and FERDINAND.

BLASCO.Haveyou not been in Sicily before?FERDINAND.Never.Bl.And, sir, what think you of Palermo?Have you as fine cities in Spain?Fer.Your city,Approached by sea or from the roofs surveyed,Smiles back upon the gazer like a queenThat hears her praise. Nearer to speak I’ll grudge not,When I may nearer know: but since we cameThere’s been no hour a stranger might dare shewHis face in the streets.Bl.The time is now unquiet.10Fer.Rather I’d say government given overTo murderous bandits, who range up and downUnchecked: to whom the king’s commissionersWere just the daintiest pricking. If I may bragOf home, our cities are more orderly.Bl.’Tis a hot-blooded race, sir, full of stirrings,Subject to fermentation, and like good wineEver the better for it.Fer.But can you tell meThe real cause of these disturbances?Bl.Nothing is easier, sir. Your viceroy, Hugo,20This is the point, is plunged in disesteem.He has lost the fear and won the hate of the people.Already, ere ye came, the news ye bringOf the king being dead, was buzzed. Since at his deathHis viceroy’s office falls to ground, our townsmenSeize on this interval, wherein they holdHe hath no jurisdiction, to discredit him,Kill him maybe, if nothing else will hinderHis reappointment. They but make the mostOf their occasion: that is all.Fer.But how30Can a mere handful of such ruffians holdThe city, when the loyal troops are his?Bl.’Tis known to the people that their cause hath foundAn ear in Spain: and here among the baronsAre many who wish well to the revolt.Should Hugo push to extremes he might discoverMost potent enemies. Remember, sir,’Twas a street scuffle in this very town,That drave the French from Sicily.Fer.The thoughtBrings me no comfort.Bl.Wherefore ’tis his policy40To meet the present rage by such concessionsAs may be popular, and to give forthThe king is ill, not dead. ’Tis for this reasonNo mass is sung nor mourning liveries worn:To-night’s festivity, such as it is,Hath only this pretence.Fer.Are the two ladiesHis daughters both?Bl.The taller and the fairer,The lady Constance, is his only daughter.Your fine duke Philip, who comes now from courtWith such a mightiness, was once her lover.Fer.That doth not single her.50Bl.But then it did.She was his first. ’Twas when duke Philip’s fatherWas viceroy here; Hugo was then chief justice,And Manuel, who succeeded him, was onlyYoung Philip’s tutor;—he succeeds moreoverNow to his pupil’s leavings, and will marryThe long-forgotten Constance.Fer.’Twas the otherI asked of, in white satin, she who satOn Philip’s right at supper; who is she?Bl.That, sir, is Margaret.Fer.And who is Margaret?Bl.Sister to Manuel.60Fer.She far outshinesHer future sister.Bl.They that can see have thought it:And, sir, ’twill tax your better wit to addA tittle to her full accustomed homage.Your broken heart were but a pinch of pepperSprinkled on porridge. Now for full two yearsHer reign hath made a melancholy madnessThe fashion ’mongst our youth.Fer.I should much likeTo be presented.Bl.O, sir, at your will.Judge for yourself. See, here they come. (Aside.) A moth!Fer.(aside). A very civil fellow.[They retire to back.EnterR.Hugo,Philip,Manuel,Margaret,Constance and Livio.HUGO.I am sorry, your grace,71We make so small a party. For our poorReception, and for all shortcomings else,Accuse the occasion.PHILIP.I think, your excellence,I cannot play the guest. This house was onceSo long my home, that here I look to findAs little ceremony as I fear I have shewn.Hu.So should it be. Make it your home again.Ph.I shall forget I have ever been away.MANUEL.Five years.Ph.Ay, but five years of wandering,80Such as can but endear one’s home the more.My memory still would serve me to walk blindfoldFrom any point of the city to these doors.Man.What is your memory for our studies, Philip?Ph.Too slippery for my profit. Yet the pleasureLives very brightly;—nay, I could but nameOne deprivation I have more regretted.MARGARET.But nowMy brother has a new philosophy.Ph.Ah! If you share the secret, and I be thoughtWorthy of initiation, may I hear it?Mar.And welcome. Manuel, in his deep research91For the first cause and harmony of things,Hit upon both together—they are one:’Tis love. And now, since I profess it not,And since ’twas learnt of you...Man.(to Mar.).Hush, sister, hush!Ph.I am very proud of such a pupil. (Aside.) SinceHe has learned my love so readily, it may beThat he may catch my jealousy—Hu.Come, duke,Sit here by me. There’s more to talk of. Livio,Fetch us the papers.Philip crosses toL.and sits by Hugo.Man.(crossing toR.). They must grant us, Constance,100A moment now. All day I have been away,And yesterday I saw you not at all.Can you forgive a lover so remiss?CONSTANCE.I fear I half deserve your fear.Man.The timeCan be but short, but it shall make amends.[They talk together.Bl.(coming forward with Fer.). Fair lady Margaret,Count Ferdinand of Vergas; I present himAt his desire.Fer.Your ladyship’s true servant.Mar.I am much honoured.Fer.Lady, ’tis worth the painsTo cross from Spain to see you.Mar.From that I guess110That you are a better sailor than the duke.Fer.Nay, you judge wrong.Mar.Have you then ate no dinner?Fer.Now if I had not, I’d blame your stormy townBefore the sea for that: since we left shipWe are cabined in this house; to pass the doorWere to leap overboard in a whole gale.Mar.I fear this is no country for you, sir,If noises in the street keep you indoors.LIVIO.Take warning, count; Sicily’s fairest roseBlooms on an angry plant.Mar.But we can boast120Of warriors that for fragrance shame the rose.(To Liv.) Is’t musk to-day?Liv.(to Fer.).I told you.Enter MessengerR.,crosses to HugoL.MESSENGER.This paper, sire, is posted thro’ the town.Hu.Eh, eh! what have we here?[Reads.Citizens of Palermo, King Pedro is dead. God rest his soul! The office of Viceroy being vacant, the Parliament of townsmen, assembled in the church of San Lorenzo, have this day elected Manuel to be your viceroy, in place of Hugo. Death to Hugo! Long live the king!Why, Manuel, what’s this parliament?130Man.I knowNo more than doth your excellence. But ’tis plainThat they are orderers who put on a dressOf regular authority; they useThe senatorial voice, and over allThey have now usurped my name to have it thoughtThat I have set their hatch.[Shouts without of “Death to Hugo! The Despatches!”]Ph.Here comes the parliament.Hu.Now this is what I feared. Manuel, I pray you,Go to the balcony, you have their ear;Use then your credit.Man.What, sire, shall I say?140Hu.Well, you should know.Liv.(to Man.).Look, if they ask to hearThe last despatches, gull them with some paper;Which while you show, you make as if therefromYou read the king’s not dead.Ph.(to Liv.).Nay, Livio:The word is wanted for a troop of horse.My father never would have brooked this insultFrom such a mob.Liv.Our soldiers are not idle.They laid hands yesterday upon the chiefAnd head of all, one John Palicio.We have certain information that the rebels150Cannot be kept together but by him.Hark! they are quiet now.Hu.(to Man. returning). What is your charmTo win such meek obedience?Man.They’re gone, your excellence;But not from aught I said: for ere I spokeSome rumour reached them, and the skirt of the throng,That far beyond my hearing stood apartIn scattered groups, broke hastily away:Then the next ranks shed off; and then the nextLoosened and followed them: till the voice cameTo the very midst and huddle, where they pressedWith upturned faces; then all heads went down,161And with a cry they fled.Hu.Whither?Man.I thinkTo the prison, my lord.Enter a Soldier.Hu.What now? give me thy matter.SOLDIER.The prisoner Palicio is escaped.He killed his guards, and fled beyond pursuit.Ph.(to Liv.). Why, is not this the man you spoke of?Liv.Ay,That is the man.Hu.Let the patrol be doubled for the night,And give not o’er the search. Alive or dead,A hundred florins to whoever finds him.169Blasco, go see to it: he must not escape.Bl.(aside). But if he be escaped, who’s viceroy then?[Exit with soldier.Hu.This same Palicio, duke, is the chief rebel:While he was caged, I could despise the rest.But he’s a dangerous fellow; bred in the hills,He is yet of noble blood and high descent:A proud and lofty temper, that hath takenA graft of wildness, and shot forth afreshIn base luxuriance. Tho’ yet unbearded,Bandits and exiles own him; and the people,Who hold such men in honour, can be drawn180But by his name to any enterprise.’Tis he that with his bread-tax cry hath stirredThe commons to rebel, and be he ’scapedClear, as ’tis thought, there will be more ado.I’ll not so much as vouch, duke, for your safety,If you should sleep in the palace.Man.Let the dukeCome to my house. What say you?Hu.What say you, Philip?They would not seek you there.Ph.If ’tis your wish.I would not bring you trouble. (To Fer.) Ferdinand,These papers must be copied: take them straightInto your chamber.[Exit Ferdinand.190Hu.’Tis but truth, your grace,We may be driven hence. The people’s cryIsSack and fire the palace.Mar.See if LivioHave not gone pale! Now, Livio, if you think’Tis safer at our house, for pity’s sakeSpare your complexion and come back with us.Liv.No doubt that sleep were sweeter, and all things elseBeneath thy roof, lady: and came there danger,That my sword might protect thee...Mar.The heavens shield us,When we be left to that.Liv.Didst thou not treatAll men with like contempt, I were much wronged:201But there’s none thou wilt praise.Mar.Now, if I neededA man to look at, I would pass my timeSearching for this Palicio. As for you,When you can lead the people, and cut your wayThro’ guards and prison walls, and get a priceSet on your head ... I’ll marry you.Man.Come, sister,This goes too far.Mar.Why, no. Be generous.If I be wrong, what makes you ill at easeWhen this man’s free? Palicio is in prison,210And all goes cheerfully; you sit to feast,You have no care, a joke will raise a laugh.Palicio is escaped—hey! at that newsWhat blackness reigns! Forgive me, friends; I seeThis man’s your master, and I like him for it.Bravery I love, and there’s no cause so poorIt cannot justify.Hu.If we should take him,I’ll send him to you stuffed.Mar.Is that a speechOne should forgive?Man.Enough. We take our leave.We pass by a private way, duke.219Ph.I come with you.Good-night.All.Good-night.[Exeunt Philip, Manuel, and Margaret.Hu.(to Con.).And you to bed.Con.I pray there’s nought to fear?Hu.Nay, nay. Good-night, child; sleep you sound.Con.Dear father,Heaven keep you safe. Good-night.Hu.Fear not for me.[Exit Constance.Hark, Livio.I have learned somewhat from Philip: the Spanish courtIs open to my enemies. My best hopeIf things go worse will be to sail for SpainAnd face them boldly there. ’Tis an extremity’Twere best to avoid: but since my hands are tiedI may be forced; and am so far resolved,230That if Palicio now should raise the town,And come to attack the palace, I shall fly.I have had a way cut thro’ the chapel wall,Whence by a covered passage I can reachThe harbour, where I keep a ship prepared.Thee I must leave. But let this news be spread,That Philip is with Manuel; it may serveTo draw the people thither—his being hereWould have impeded my escape. And firstWe’ll go the rounds, and see that at all pointsThe watch is strong and wakeful. Come with me.[Exeunt.

BLASCO.

Haveyou not been in Sicily before?

FERDINAND.

Never.

Bl.And, sir, what think you of Palermo?Have you as fine cities in Spain?

Bl.And, sir, what think you of Palermo?

Have you as fine cities in Spain?

Fer.Your city,Approached by sea or from the roofs surveyed,Smiles back upon the gazer like a queenThat hears her praise. Nearer to speak I’ll grudge not,When I may nearer know: but since we cameThere’s been no hour a stranger might dare shewHis face in the streets.

Fer.Your city,

Approached by sea or from the roofs surveyed,

Smiles back upon the gazer like a queen

That hears her praise. Nearer to speak I’ll grudge not,

When I may nearer know: but since we came

There’s been no hour a stranger might dare shew

His face in the streets.

Bl.The time is now unquiet.

10Fer.Rather I’d say government given overTo murderous bandits, who range up and downUnchecked: to whom the king’s commissionersWere just the daintiest pricking. If I may bragOf home, our cities are more orderly.

Fer.Rather I’d say government given over

To murderous bandits, who range up and down

Unchecked: to whom the king’s commissioners

Were just the daintiest pricking. If I may brag

Of home, our cities are more orderly.

Bl.’Tis a hot-blooded race, sir, full of stirrings,Subject to fermentation, and like good wineEver the better for it.

Bl.’Tis a hot-blooded race, sir, full of stirrings,

Subject to fermentation, and like good wine

Ever the better for it.

Fer.But can you tell meThe real cause of these disturbances?

Fer.But can you tell me

The real cause of these disturbances?

Bl.Nothing is easier, sir. Your viceroy, Hugo,20This is the point, is plunged in disesteem.He has lost the fear and won the hate of the people.Already, ere ye came, the news ye bringOf the king being dead, was buzzed. Since at his deathHis viceroy’s office falls to ground, our townsmenSeize on this interval, wherein they holdHe hath no jurisdiction, to discredit him,Kill him maybe, if nothing else will hinderHis reappointment. They but make the mostOf their occasion: that is all.

Bl.Nothing is easier, sir. Your viceroy, Hugo,

This is the point, is plunged in disesteem.

He has lost the fear and won the hate of the people.

Already, ere ye came, the news ye bring

Of the king being dead, was buzzed. Since at his death

His viceroy’s office falls to ground, our townsmen

Seize on this interval, wherein they hold

He hath no jurisdiction, to discredit him,

Kill him maybe, if nothing else will hinder

His reappointment. They but make the most

Of their occasion: that is all.

Fer.But how30Can a mere handful of such ruffians holdThe city, when the loyal troops are his?

Fer.But how

Can a mere handful of such ruffians hold

The city, when the loyal troops are his?

Bl.’Tis known to the people that their cause hath foundAn ear in Spain: and here among the baronsAre many who wish well to the revolt.Should Hugo push to extremes he might discoverMost potent enemies. Remember, sir,’Twas a street scuffle in this very town,That drave the French from Sicily.

Bl.’Tis known to the people that their cause hath found

An ear in Spain: and here among the barons

Are many who wish well to the revolt.

Should Hugo push to extremes he might discover

Most potent enemies. Remember, sir,

’Twas a street scuffle in this very town,

That drave the French from Sicily.

Fer.The thoughtBrings me no comfort.

Fer.The thought

Brings me no comfort.

Bl.Wherefore ’tis his policy40To meet the present rage by such concessionsAs may be popular, and to give forthThe king is ill, not dead. ’Tis for this reasonNo mass is sung nor mourning liveries worn:To-night’s festivity, such as it is,Hath only this pretence.

Bl.Wherefore ’tis his policy

To meet the present rage by such concessions

As may be popular, and to give forth

The king is ill, not dead. ’Tis for this reason

No mass is sung nor mourning liveries worn:

To-night’s festivity, such as it is,

Hath only this pretence.

Fer.Are the two ladiesHis daughters both?

Fer.Are the two ladies

His daughters both?

Bl.The taller and the fairer,The lady Constance, is his only daughter.Your fine duke Philip, who comes now from courtWith such a mightiness, was once her lover.

Bl.The taller and the fairer,

The lady Constance, is his only daughter.

Your fine duke Philip, who comes now from court

With such a mightiness, was once her lover.

Fer.That doth not single her.

50Bl.But then it did.She was his first. ’Twas when duke Philip’s fatherWas viceroy here; Hugo was then chief justice,And Manuel, who succeeded him, was onlyYoung Philip’s tutor;—he succeeds moreoverNow to his pupil’s leavings, and will marryThe long-forgotten Constance.

Bl.But then it did.

She was his first. ’Twas when duke Philip’s father

Was viceroy here; Hugo was then chief justice,

And Manuel, who succeeded him, was only

Young Philip’s tutor;—he succeeds moreover

Now to his pupil’s leavings, and will marry

The long-forgotten Constance.

Fer.’Twas the otherI asked of, in white satin, she who satOn Philip’s right at supper; who is she?

Fer.’Twas the other

I asked of, in white satin, she who sat

On Philip’s right at supper; who is she?

Bl.That, sir, is Margaret.

Fer.And who is Margaret?

Bl.Sister to Manuel.

60Fer.She far outshinesHer future sister.

Fer.She far outshines

Her future sister.

Bl.They that can see have thought it:And, sir, ’twill tax your better wit to addA tittle to her full accustomed homage.Your broken heart were but a pinch of pepperSprinkled on porridge. Now for full two yearsHer reign hath made a melancholy madnessThe fashion ’mongst our youth.

Bl.They that can see have thought it:

And, sir, ’twill tax your better wit to add

A tittle to her full accustomed homage.

Your broken heart were but a pinch of pepper

Sprinkled on porridge. Now for full two years

Her reign hath made a melancholy madness

The fashion ’mongst our youth.

Fer.I should much likeTo be presented.

Fer.I should much like

To be presented.

Bl.O, sir, at your will.Judge for yourself. See, here they come. (Aside.) A moth!

Bl.O, sir, at your will.

Judge for yourself. See, here they come. (Aside.) A moth!

Fer.(aside). A very civil fellow.

[They retire to back.

EnterR.Hugo,Philip,Manuel,Margaret,Constance and Livio.

EnterR.Hugo,Philip,Manuel,Margaret,

Constance and Livio.

HUGO.

I am sorry, your grace,71We make so small a party. For our poorReception, and for all shortcomings else,Accuse the occasion.

I am sorry, your grace,

We make so small a party. For our poor

Reception, and for all shortcomings else,

Accuse the occasion.

PHILIP.

I think, your excellence,I cannot play the guest. This house was onceSo long my home, that here I look to findAs little ceremony as I fear I have shewn.

I think, your excellence,

I cannot play the guest. This house was once

So long my home, that here I look to find

As little ceremony as I fear I have shewn.

Hu.So should it be. Make it your home again.

Ph.I shall forget I have ever been away.

MANUEL.

Five years.

Ph.Ay, but five years of wandering,80Such as can but endear one’s home the more.My memory still would serve me to walk blindfoldFrom any point of the city to these doors.

Ph.Ay, but five years of wandering,

Such as can but endear one’s home the more.

My memory still would serve me to walk blindfold

From any point of the city to these doors.

Man.What is your memory for our studies, Philip?

Ph.Too slippery for my profit. Yet the pleasureLives very brightly;—nay, I could but nameOne deprivation I have more regretted.

Ph.Too slippery for my profit. Yet the pleasure

Lives very brightly;—nay, I could but name

One deprivation I have more regretted.

MARGARET.

But nowMy brother has a new philosophy.

But now

My brother has a new philosophy.

Ph.Ah! If you share the secret, and I be thoughtWorthy of initiation, may I hear it?

Ph.Ah! If you share the secret, and I be thought

Worthy of initiation, may I hear it?

Mar.And welcome. Manuel, in his deep research91For the first cause and harmony of things,Hit upon both together—they are one:’Tis love. And now, since I profess it not,And since ’twas learnt of you...

Mar.And welcome. Manuel, in his deep research

For the first cause and harmony of things,

Hit upon both together—they are one:

’Tis love. And now, since I profess it not,

And since ’twas learnt of you...

Man.(to Mar.).Hush, sister, hush!

Ph.I am very proud of such a pupil. (Aside.) SinceHe has learned my love so readily, it may beThat he may catch my jealousy—

Ph.I am very proud of such a pupil. (Aside.) Since

He has learned my love so readily, it may be

That he may catch my jealousy—

Hu.Come, duke,Sit here by me. There’s more to talk of. Livio,Fetch us the papers.

Hu.Come, duke,

Sit here by me. There’s more to talk of. Livio,

Fetch us the papers.

Philip crosses toL.and sits by Hugo.

Man.(crossing toR.). They must grant us, Constance,100A moment now. All day I have been away,And yesterday I saw you not at all.Can you forgive a lover so remiss?

Man.(crossing toR.). They must grant us, Constance,

A moment now. All day I have been away,

And yesterday I saw you not at all.

Can you forgive a lover so remiss?

CONSTANCE.

I fear I half deserve your fear.

Man.The timeCan be but short, but it shall make amends.

Man.The time

Can be but short, but it shall make amends.

[They talk together.

Bl.(coming forward with Fer.). Fair lady Margaret,Count Ferdinand of Vergas; I present himAt his desire.

Bl.(coming forward with Fer.). Fair lady Margaret,

Count Ferdinand of Vergas; I present him

At his desire.

Fer.Your ladyship’s true servant.

Mar.I am much honoured.

Fer.Lady, ’tis worth the painsTo cross from Spain to see you.

Fer.Lady, ’tis worth the pains

To cross from Spain to see you.

Mar.From that I guess110That you are a better sailor than the duke.

Mar.From that I guess

That you are a better sailor than the duke.

Fer.Nay, you judge wrong.

Mar.Have you then ate no dinner?

Fer.Now if I had not, I’d blame your stormy townBefore the sea for that: since we left shipWe are cabined in this house; to pass the doorWere to leap overboard in a whole gale.

Fer.Now if I had not, I’d blame your stormy town

Before the sea for that: since we left ship

We are cabined in this house; to pass the door

Were to leap overboard in a whole gale.

Mar.I fear this is no country for you, sir,If noises in the street keep you indoors.

Mar.I fear this is no country for you, sir,

If noises in the street keep you indoors.

LIVIO.

Take warning, count; Sicily’s fairest roseBlooms on an angry plant.

Take warning, count; Sicily’s fairest rose

Blooms on an angry plant.

Mar.But we can boast120Of warriors that for fragrance shame the rose.(To Liv.) Is’t musk to-day?

Mar.But we can boast

Of warriors that for fragrance shame the rose.

(To Liv.) Is’t musk to-day?

Liv.(to Fer.).I told you.

Enter MessengerR.,crosses to HugoL.MESSENGER.

Enter MessengerR.,crosses to HugoL.

MESSENGER.

This paper, sire, is posted thro’ the town.

Hu.Eh, eh! what have we here?[Reads.

Citizens of Palermo, King Pedro is dead. God rest his soul! The office of Viceroy being vacant, the Parliament of townsmen, assembled in the church of San Lorenzo, have this day elected Manuel to be your viceroy, in place of Hugo. Death to Hugo! Long live the king!

Why, Manuel, what’s this parliament?

130Man.I knowNo more than doth your excellence. But ’tis plainThat they are orderers who put on a dressOf regular authority; they useThe senatorial voice, and over allThey have now usurped my name to have it thoughtThat I have set their hatch.

Man.I know

No more than doth your excellence. But ’tis plain

That they are orderers who put on a dress

Of regular authority; they use

The senatorial voice, and over all

They have now usurped my name to have it thought

That I have set their hatch.

[Shouts without of “Death to Hugo! The Despatches!”]

Ph.Here comes the parliament.

Hu.Now this is what I feared. Manuel, I pray you,Go to the balcony, you have their ear;Use then your credit.

Hu.Now this is what I feared. Manuel, I pray you,

Go to the balcony, you have their ear;

Use then your credit.

Man.What, sire, shall I say?

140Hu.Well, you should know.

Hu.Well, you should know.

Liv.(to Man.).Look, if they ask to hearThe last despatches, gull them with some paper;Which while you show, you make as if therefromYou read the king’s not dead.

Liv.(to Man.).Look, if they ask to hear

The last despatches, gull them with some paper;

Which while you show, you make as if therefrom

You read the king’s not dead.

Ph.(to Liv.).Nay, Livio:The word is wanted for a troop of horse.My father never would have brooked this insultFrom such a mob.

Ph.(to Liv.).Nay, Livio:

The word is wanted for a troop of horse.

My father never would have brooked this insult

From such a mob.

Liv.Our soldiers are not idle.They laid hands yesterday upon the chiefAnd head of all, one John Palicio.We have certain information that the rebels150Cannot be kept together but by him.Hark! they are quiet now.

Liv.Our soldiers are not idle.

They laid hands yesterday upon the chief

And head of all, one John Palicio.

We have certain information that the rebels

Cannot be kept together but by him.

Hark! they are quiet now.

Hu.(to Man. returning). What is your charmTo win such meek obedience?

Hu.(to Man. returning). What is your charm

To win such meek obedience?

Man.They’re gone, your excellence;But not from aught I said: for ere I spokeSome rumour reached them, and the skirt of the throng,That far beyond my hearing stood apartIn scattered groups, broke hastily away:Then the next ranks shed off; and then the nextLoosened and followed them: till the voice cameTo the very midst and huddle, where they pressedWith upturned faces; then all heads went down,161And with a cry they fled.

Man.They’re gone, your excellence;

But not from aught I said: for ere I spoke

Some rumour reached them, and the skirt of the throng,

That far beyond my hearing stood apart

In scattered groups, broke hastily away:

Then the next ranks shed off; and then the next

Loosened and followed them: till the voice came

To the very midst and huddle, where they pressed

With upturned faces; then all heads went down,

And with a cry they fled.

Hu.Whither?

Man.I thinkTo the prison, my lord.

Man.I think

To the prison, my lord.

Enter a Soldier.

Hu.What now? give me thy matter.

SOLDIER.

The prisoner Palicio is escaped.He killed his guards, and fled beyond pursuit.

The prisoner Palicio is escaped.

He killed his guards, and fled beyond pursuit.

Ph.(to Liv.). Why, is not this the man you spoke of?

Liv.Ay,That is the man.

Liv.Ay,

That is the man.

Hu.Let the patrol be doubled for the night,And give not o’er the search. Alive or dead,A hundred florins to whoever finds him.169Blasco, go see to it: he must not escape.

Hu.Let the patrol be doubled for the night,

And give not o’er the search. Alive or dead,

A hundred florins to whoever finds him.

Blasco, go see to it: he must not escape.

Bl.(aside). But if he be escaped, who’s viceroy then?

[Exit with soldier.

Hu.This same Palicio, duke, is the chief rebel:While he was caged, I could despise the rest.But he’s a dangerous fellow; bred in the hills,He is yet of noble blood and high descent:A proud and lofty temper, that hath takenA graft of wildness, and shot forth afreshIn base luxuriance. Tho’ yet unbearded,Bandits and exiles own him; and the people,Who hold such men in honour, can be drawn180But by his name to any enterprise.’Tis he that with his bread-tax cry hath stirredThe commons to rebel, and be he ’scapedClear, as ’tis thought, there will be more ado.I’ll not so much as vouch, duke, for your safety,If you should sleep in the palace.

Hu.This same Palicio, duke, is the chief rebel:

While he was caged, I could despise the rest.

But he’s a dangerous fellow; bred in the hills,

He is yet of noble blood and high descent:

A proud and lofty temper, that hath taken

A graft of wildness, and shot forth afresh

In base luxuriance. Tho’ yet unbearded,

Bandits and exiles own him; and the people,

Who hold such men in honour, can be drawn

But by his name to any enterprise.

’Tis he that with his bread-tax cry hath stirred

The commons to rebel, and be he ’scaped

Clear, as ’tis thought, there will be more ado.

I’ll not so much as vouch, duke, for your safety,

If you should sleep in the palace.

Man.Let the dukeCome to my house. What say you?

Man.Let the duke

Come to my house. What say you?

Hu.What say you, Philip?They would not seek you there.

Hu.What say you, Philip?

They would not seek you there.

Ph.If ’tis your wish.I would not bring you trouble. (To Fer.) Ferdinand,These papers must be copied: take them straightInto your chamber.[Exit Ferdinand.

Ph.If ’tis your wish.

I would not bring you trouble. (To Fer.) Ferdinand,

These papers must be copied: take them straight

Into your chamber.[Exit Ferdinand.

190Hu.’Tis but truth, your grace,We may be driven hence. The people’s cryIsSack and fire the palace.

Hu.’Tis but truth, your grace,

We may be driven hence. The people’s cry

IsSack and fire the palace.

Mar.See if LivioHave not gone pale! Now, Livio, if you think’Tis safer at our house, for pity’s sakeSpare your complexion and come back with us.

Mar.See if Livio

Have not gone pale! Now, Livio, if you think

’Tis safer at our house, for pity’s sake

Spare your complexion and come back with us.

Liv.No doubt that sleep were sweeter, and all things elseBeneath thy roof, lady: and came there danger,That my sword might protect thee...

Liv.No doubt that sleep were sweeter, and all things else

Beneath thy roof, lady: and came there danger,

That my sword might protect thee...

Mar.The heavens shield us,When we be left to that.

Mar.The heavens shield us,

When we be left to that.

Liv.Didst thou not treatAll men with like contempt, I were much wronged:201But there’s none thou wilt praise.

Liv.Didst thou not treat

All men with like contempt, I were much wronged:

But there’s none thou wilt praise.

Mar.Now, if I neededA man to look at, I would pass my timeSearching for this Palicio. As for you,When you can lead the people, and cut your wayThro’ guards and prison walls, and get a priceSet on your head ... I’ll marry you.

Mar.Now, if I needed

A man to look at, I would pass my time

Searching for this Palicio. As for you,

When you can lead the people, and cut your way

Thro’ guards and prison walls, and get a price

Set on your head ... I’ll marry you.

Man.Come, sister,This goes too far.

Man.Come, sister,

This goes too far.

Mar.Why, no. Be generous.If I be wrong, what makes you ill at easeWhen this man’s free? Palicio is in prison,210And all goes cheerfully; you sit to feast,You have no care, a joke will raise a laugh.Palicio is escaped—hey! at that newsWhat blackness reigns! Forgive me, friends; I seeThis man’s your master, and I like him for it.Bravery I love, and there’s no cause so poorIt cannot justify.

Mar.Why, no. Be generous.

If I be wrong, what makes you ill at ease

When this man’s free? Palicio is in prison,

And all goes cheerfully; you sit to feast,

You have no care, a joke will raise a laugh.

Palicio is escaped—hey! at that news

What blackness reigns! Forgive me, friends; I see

This man’s your master, and I like him for it.

Bravery I love, and there’s no cause so poor

It cannot justify.

Hu.If we should take him,I’ll send him to you stuffed.

Hu.If we should take him,

I’ll send him to you stuffed.

Mar.Is that a speechOne should forgive?

Mar.Is that a speech

One should forgive?

Man.Enough. We take our leave.We pass by a private way, duke.

Man.Enough. We take our leave.

We pass by a private way, duke.

219Ph.I come with you.Good-night.

Ph.I come with you.

Good-night.

All.Good-night.

[Exeunt Philip, Manuel, and Margaret.

Hu.(to Con.).And you to bed.

Con.I pray there’s nought to fear?

Hu.Nay, nay. Good-night, child; sleep you sound.

Con.Dear father,Heaven keep you safe. Good-night.

Con.Dear father,

Heaven keep you safe. Good-night.

Hu.Fear not for me.

[Exit Constance.

Hark, Livio.I have learned somewhat from Philip: the Spanish courtIs open to my enemies. My best hopeIf things go worse will be to sail for SpainAnd face them boldly there. ’Tis an extremity’Twere best to avoid: but since my hands are tiedI may be forced; and am so far resolved,230That if Palicio now should raise the town,And come to attack the palace, I shall fly.I have had a way cut thro’ the chapel wall,Whence by a covered passage I can reachThe harbour, where I keep a ship prepared.Thee I must leave. But let this news be spread,That Philip is with Manuel; it may serveTo draw the people thither—his being hereWould have impeded my escape. And firstWe’ll go the rounds, and see that at all pointsThe watch is strong and wakeful. Come with me.

Hark, Livio.

I have learned somewhat from Philip: the Spanish court

Is open to my enemies. My best hope

If things go worse will be to sail for Spain

And face them boldly there. ’Tis an extremity

’Twere best to avoid: but since my hands are tied

I may be forced; and am so far resolved,

That if Palicio now should raise the town,

And come to attack the palace, I shall fly.

I have had a way cut thro’ the chapel wall,

Whence by a covered passage I can reach

The harbour, where I keep a ship prepared.

Thee I must leave. But let this news be spread,

That Philip is with Manuel; it may serve

To draw the people thither—his being here

Would have impeded my escape. And first

We’ll go the rounds, and see that at all points

The watch is strong and wakeful. Come with me.

[Exeunt.

Hall in Manuel’s house. Enter PALICIO in woman’s clothes, bleeding, a dagger in his hand.PALICIO.No one, no sound. Can I hide here I am safe.242I have given the curs the slip, if I can hide.Safe ... But this wound, the blood runs like a river:Unless they track me by it I am clear—so far.A paltry stab. I’ll bind it round and tie itTo stop the blood—so, so. Now, where to hide?For here is no protection; ’tis the houseOf the chief justiciary ... a doubtful ’scapeFrom prison here. Yet when I saw the wall’Twas home; then, oh, my God! this flip-flap gear251Shackling my knees—Over! ha, ha! the foolsWill never guess that leap. But I must hide:Slip out ere morn: or if not that, be bold,Give myself up to Manuel. Is that hope?Manuel the just. ’Twere best reserve that hopeTill others fail. Hark!—steps. Where can I get?Behind this curtain—so.[Hides.Enter Manuel, Philip, Margaret, and Servant.MANUEL(to servt.).Giuseppe, show the duke my room.(To Ph.) Taking us unawares o’erlook, I pray,The want of ceremony. You will find all comfortFor sleep or wakefulness.PHILIP.260This is the flowerOf hospitality. Now, for old sakes,I’d beg some meaner shift, to prove me mindfulOf ancient benefits.MARGARET.O, be content:My brother’s luxury will not o’erwhelm youWith obligation.Man.Rest you well. Good-night!Mar. and Ph.Good-night![Exit Philip with servant.Man.Margaret!Mar.My brother!Man.You did ill to-night.Mar.Forgive me. I said in jest you had learned your loveFrom Philip. I was sorry.269Man.Nay, what’s that?Yet ’twas ill said, and may have wounded Philip;Though he must wish us to assume there’s nothing’Twixt him and Constance: and now he’s our guestWe must not let our courtesy be taintedBy his own lightness; nay, the tales told of himAre nought to us. He’s of a generous nature,And not forbidding to what faults besetHis age and rank. But we make no man betterBy lower estimation; an open kindlinessAnd trust may help him; let us use such toward him.Mar.I will. But then what was’t I said?Man.Ah! Why,281Your praise of John Palicio. See you not’Twill injure me with Hugo? Our relationsAre tried by public matters: ’tis in the scopeOf private intercourse to ease the strain,Or force the rupture.Mar.Brother, I am very sorry.I thought ...Man.I do not blame your thought. I grantThese Spaniards are bad masters. First they wreckedThis island to possess it; then the prize,Which kindness might have much enriched, is stripped290Even to the bone by cruelty and rapine.Their viceroy too, this Hugo—a man who governsBut to be governor, and even at thatFails like a fool. To see the folk misruledMore grieves me than to see the folk misled.And if they have much cause to rise, there’s noneHath more to lead them, than the native outlaw,Whom you so praised.Re-enter Servant.Mar.Then you forgive me, brother?Man.Well, well, good-night!Mar.Good-night![Exit.Man.Giuseppe, prepareThe little room at the end of the corridor;300I will sleep there. I shall not want thee more.[Exit servant.It matters not what happens, day by dayThe rupture grows. ’Tis plain Hugo and IAre foes at heart—and what a pitiful trickTo put the question of my marriage by,Withholding his consent just for the thought,That while my happiness hangs on his nod,I must be closer bound to serve his interest,Now, when his credit totters. Doth he not knowThat honourable minds, thro’ very fear310Of their self-interest, are thrust awayBeyond their counter-judgment? Nay, ’tis clearHe falls, he falls; and were’t not now for Constance,I’d gladly see him fall.Palicio comes forward.A woman here!Why, who art thou?Pal.Hush, hush! I am no woman.[Lays his dagger on the table.Draw not your sword. See here my dagger.Man.Ha!And bloodied freshly.Pal.Let me bar the door.[Goes to door.Man.Why, can it be?—Pal.I am Palicio.Man.Thou here!Pal.You see.Man.From prison?Pal.Escaped, thank God!I skirmished with my guards, and being pursued320Came thro’ your orange garden. Here none will seek me.Hide me!Man.Thee, madman, here?Pal.Ay, call me madman.I am mad, and praise God for it ... if to hate tyrantsBe madness, I’m past cure: or if ’tis madnessTo escape from prison ...Man.Nay, neither. I blamed thee notIn these; but that thou thinkest to overbearThe troops of Spain with thy small brigand crew:To escape from justice flying to my house,—The chief justiciary.Pal.What will you do?Man.Return thee straight to prison.Pal.First, I beseech you,Help me to bind my wound.330Man.Art thou much hurt?Pal.A thrust in the arm, a petty prick, which yetBleeds uncontrolledly.Man.Undo it. It spurts.Hold here thy hand, while with thy handkerchiefI bind thy arm.Pal.Look you, ’tis lower down.Man.Peace, man! ’Twill stay the blood to bind thee here.Hast thou no other hurt?Pal.Nay, none but this.And see, ’tis staunched already. I must thank you,Tho’ here your help should end. Call in the hirelings;They’ll not be far. I will go back with them.340And yet ’twere pity; for ’tis certain death:I have killed three of them. Manuel, I pray you—I pray you, Manuel, crush not all my hopes,My just cause. Give me a sword and a man’s dress,And let me forth to try my fortune!Man.Nay.Pal.Then if I take my dagger and venture out ...[Takes it.I’ll yet escape. Deny me not this chance.See, I’ll not ask your leave, but only go.[Going.Man.Giovanni, stay. Thou hast done me a great wrongIn flying here. Why didst thou choose my house?350Pal.’Twas as I fled for life: the hue-and-cryCame gathering faster round me: being still clear,And seeing your wall, it seemed my safety layIn that leap, could I make it.Man.Thou’rt the last,And only offspring of a noble stock.The blood that I have staunched in thy veins,Sprang from the heart of Sicily, and flowsRedder than mine, tho’ mine too once was mixed,And not unworthily, with thine, and nowFrom my great grandsire’s marriage both our bloods360Are even as one, and thy blood on my handsIs mine, and mine within my veins is thine.I cannot send thee to thy death, Giovanni;I may not shelter thee from justice: See,Thou hast done me a grievous wrong.Pal.Yet hide me awhile.This house may be my prison.Man.Thou hast this hope:The king being dead ...Pal.Is’t true that Pedro is dead?Man.Ay, true enough.Pal.Then are you free. I am safe.[Puts dagger in his bosom.Man.I say this is thy hope. The king being dead,370Such offices as hold under the crownNeed confirmation. Now I do not sayAllegiance lapses; but, if I be quickTo guess the new king’s will, that he will changeOur viceroy—which I doubt not,—I may be boldNow to withhold my duties from a servantDiscredited, contending that they hangUpon my judgment, for my deeds to giveAfter-account. See, ’tis a subtle pointI strain for thee, rather than hurt the claim380Of kinship. Thou shalt be my prisonerFor these few days. By chance I have a roomFit for thy lodging: there I’ll shew thee now,And thence thou must not stir. I’ll bring thee food,Look to thy wants, and try to cure thy wound.Thou on thy part must lie as still as oneThat hushes for his life. What, man; thou’rt faintFor loss of blood, and strain? Cannot you stand?Stand up, or I must carry you. Indeed,Carry him I must ... see, now, where be my keys?[Going, carrying Palicio.

Hall in Manuel’s house. Enter PALICIO in woman’s clothes, bleeding, a dagger in his hand.

PALICIO.

No one, no sound. Can I hide here I am safe.242I have given the curs the slip, if I can hide.Safe ... But this wound, the blood runs like a river:Unless they track me by it I am clear—so far.A paltry stab. I’ll bind it round and tie itTo stop the blood—so, so. Now, where to hide?For here is no protection; ’tis the houseOf the chief justiciary ... a doubtful ’scapeFrom prison here. Yet when I saw the wall’Twas home; then, oh, my God! this flip-flap gear251Shackling my knees—Over! ha, ha! the foolsWill never guess that leap. But I must hide:Slip out ere morn: or if not that, be bold,Give myself up to Manuel. Is that hope?Manuel the just. ’Twere best reserve that hopeTill others fail. Hark!—steps. Where can I get?Behind this curtain—so.[Hides.

No one, no sound. Can I hide here I am safe.

I have given the curs the slip, if I can hide.

Safe ... But this wound, the blood runs like a river:

Unless they track me by it I am clear—so far.

A paltry stab. I’ll bind it round and tie it

To stop the blood—so, so. Now, where to hide?

For here is no protection; ’tis the house

Of the chief justiciary ... a doubtful ’scape

From prison here. Yet when I saw the wall

’Twas home; then, oh, my God! this flip-flap gear

Shackling my knees—Over! ha, ha! the fools

Will never guess that leap. But I must hide:

Slip out ere morn: or if not that, be bold,

Give myself up to Manuel. Is that hope?

Manuel the just. ’Twere best reserve that hope

Till others fail. Hark!—steps. Where can I get?

Behind this curtain—so.[Hides.

Enter Manuel, Philip, Margaret, and Servant.

MANUEL(to servt.).

Giuseppe, show the duke my room.(To Ph.) Taking us unawares o’erlook, I pray,The want of ceremony. You will find all comfortFor sleep or wakefulness.

Giuseppe, show the duke my room.

(To Ph.) Taking us unawares o’erlook, I pray,

The want of ceremony. You will find all comfort

For sleep or wakefulness.

PHILIP.

260This is the flowerOf hospitality. Now, for old sakes,I’d beg some meaner shift, to prove me mindfulOf ancient benefits.

This is the flower

Of hospitality. Now, for old sakes,

I’d beg some meaner shift, to prove me mindful

Of ancient benefits.

MARGARET.

O, be content:My brother’s luxury will not o’erwhelm youWith obligation.

O, be content:

My brother’s luxury will not o’erwhelm you

With obligation.

Man.Rest you well. Good-night!

Mar. and Ph.Good-night!

[Exit Philip with servant.

Man.Margaret!

Mar.My brother!

Man.You did ill to-night.

Mar.Forgive me. I said in jest you had learned your loveFrom Philip. I was sorry.

Mar.Forgive me. I said in jest you had learned your love

From Philip. I was sorry.

269Man.Nay, what’s that?Yet ’twas ill said, and may have wounded Philip;Though he must wish us to assume there’s nothing’Twixt him and Constance: and now he’s our guestWe must not let our courtesy be taintedBy his own lightness; nay, the tales told of himAre nought to us. He’s of a generous nature,And not forbidding to what faults besetHis age and rank. But we make no man betterBy lower estimation; an open kindlinessAnd trust may help him; let us use such toward him.

Man.Nay, what’s that?

Yet ’twas ill said, and may have wounded Philip;

Though he must wish us to assume there’s nothing

’Twixt him and Constance: and now he’s our guest

We must not let our courtesy be tainted

By his own lightness; nay, the tales told of him

Are nought to us. He’s of a generous nature,

And not forbidding to what faults beset

His age and rank. But we make no man better

By lower estimation; an open kindliness

And trust may help him; let us use such toward him.

Mar.I will. But then what was’t I said?

Man.Ah! Why,281Your praise of John Palicio. See you not’Twill injure me with Hugo? Our relationsAre tried by public matters: ’tis in the scopeOf private intercourse to ease the strain,Or force the rupture.

Man.Ah! Why,

Your praise of John Palicio. See you not

’Twill injure me with Hugo? Our relations

Are tried by public matters: ’tis in the scope

Of private intercourse to ease the strain,

Or force the rupture.

Mar.Brother, I am very sorry.I thought ...

Mar.Brother, I am very sorry.

I thought ...

Man.I do not blame your thought. I grantThese Spaniards are bad masters. First they wreckedThis island to possess it; then the prize,Which kindness might have much enriched, is stripped290Even to the bone by cruelty and rapine.Their viceroy too, this Hugo—a man who governsBut to be governor, and even at thatFails like a fool. To see the folk misruledMore grieves me than to see the folk misled.And if they have much cause to rise, there’s noneHath more to lead them, than the native outlaw,Whom you so praised.

Man.I do not blame your thought. I grant

These Spaniards are bad masters. First they wrecked

This island to possess it; then the prize,

Which kindness might have much enriched, is stripped

Even to the bone by cruelty and rapine.

Their viceroy too, this Hugo—a man who governs

But to be governor, and even at that

Fails like a fool. To see the folk misruled

More grieves me than to see the folk misled.

And if they have much cause to rise, there’s none

Hath more to lead them, than the native outlaw,

Whom you so praised.

Re-enter Servant.

Mar.Then you forgive me, brother?

Man.Well, well, good-night!

Mar.Good-night![Exit.

Man.Giuseppe, prepareThe little room at the end of the corridor;300I will sleep there. I shall not want thee more.

Man.Giuseppe, prepare

The little room at the end of the corridor;

I will sleep there. I shall not want thee more.

[Exit servant.It matters not what happens, day by dayThe rupture grows. ’Tis plain Hugo and IAre foes at heart—and what a pitiful trickTo put the question of my marriage by,Withholding his consent just for the thought,That while my happiness hangs on his nod,I must be closer bound to serve his interest,Now, when his credit totters. Doth he not knowThat honourable minds, thro’ very fear310Of their self-interest, are thrust awayBeyond their counter-judgment? Nay, ’tis clearHe falls, he falls; and were’t not now for Constance,I’d gladly see him fall.

[Exit servant.

It matters not what happens, day by day

The rupture grows. ’Tis plain Hugo and I

Are foes at heart—and what a pitiful trick

To put the question of my marriage by,

Withholding his consent just for the thought,

That while my happiness hangs on his nod,

I must be closer bound to serve his interest,

Now, when his credit totters. Doth he not know

That honourable minds, thro’ very fear

Of their self-interest, are thrust away

Beyond their counter-judgment? Nay, ’tis clear

He falls, he falls; and were’t not now for Constance,

I’d gladly see him fall.

Palicio comes forward.A woman here!Why, who art thou?

Palicio comes forward.

A woman here!

Why, who art thou?

Pal.Hush, hush! I am no woman.

[Lays his dagger on the table.

Draw not your sword. See here my dagger.

Man.Ha!And bloodied freshly.

Man.Ha!

And bloodied freshly.

Pal.Let me bar the door.[Goes to door.

Man.Why, can it be?—

Pal.I am Palicio.

Man.Thou here!

Pal.You see.

Man.From prison?

Pal.Escaped, thank God!I skirmished with my guards, and being pursued320Came thro’ your orange garden. Here none will seek me.Hide me!

Pal.Escaped, thank God!

I skirmished with my guards, and being pursued

Came thro’ your orange garden. Here none will seek me.

Hide me!

Man.Thee, madman, here?

Pal.Ay, call me madman.I am mad, and praise God for it ... if to hate tyrantsBe madness, I’m past cure: or if ’tis madnessTo escape from prison ...

Pal.Ay, call me madman.

I am mad, and praise God for it ... if to hate tyrants

Be madness, I’m past cure: or if ’tis madness

To escape from prison ...

Man.Nay, neither. I blamed thee notIn these; but that thou thinkest to overbearThe troops of Spain with thy small brigand crew:To escape from justice flying to my house,—The chief justiciary.

Man.Nay, neither. I blamed thee not

In these; but that thou thinkest to overbear

The troops of Spain with thy small brigand crew:

To escape from justice flying to my house,—

The chief justiciary.

Pal.What will you do?

Man.Return thee straight to prison.

Pal.First, I beseech you,Help me to bind my wound.

Pal.First, I beseech you,

Help me to bind my wound.

330Man.Art thou much hurt?

Man.Art thou much hurt?

Pal.A thrust in the arm, a petty prick, which yetBleeds uncontrolledly.

Pal.A thrust in the arm, a petty prick, which yet

Bleeds uncontrolledly.

Man.Undo it. It spurts.Hold here thy hand, while with thy handkerchiefI bind thy arm.

Man.Undo it. It spurts.

Hold here thy hand, while with thy handkerchief

I bind thy arm.

Pal.Look you, ’tis lower down.

Man.Peace, man! ’Twill stay the blood to bind thee here.Hast thou no other hurt?

Man.Peace, man! ’Twill stay the blood to bind thee here.

Hast thou no other hurt?

Pal.Nay, none but this.And see, ’tis staunched already. I must thank you,Tho’ here your help should end. Call in the hirelings;They’ll not be far. I will go back with them.340And yet ’twere pity; for ’tis certain death:I have killed three of them. Manuel, I pray you—I pray you, Manuel, crush not all my hopes,My just cause. Give me a sword and a man’s dress,And let me forth to try my fortune!

Pal.Nay, none but this.

And see, ’tis staunched already. I must thank you,

Tho’ here your help should end. Call in the hirelings;

They’ll not be far. I will go back with them.

And yet ’twere pity; for ’tis certain death:

I have killed three of them. Manuel, I pray you—

I pray you, Manuel, crush not all my hopes,

My just cause. Give me a sword and a man’s dress,

And let me forth to try my fortune!

Man.Nay.

Pal.Then if I take my dagger and venture out ...

[Takes it.

I’ll yet escape. Deny me not this chance.See, I’ll not ask your leave, but only go.[Going.

I’ll yet escape. Deny me not this chance.

See, I’ll not ask your leave, but only go.[Going.

Man.Giovanni, stay. Thou hast done me a great wrongIn flying here. Why didst thou choose my house?

Man.Giovanni, stay. Thou hast done me a great wrong

In flying here. Why didst thou choose my house?

350Pal.’Twas as I fled for life: the hue-and-cryCame gathering faster round me: being still clear,And seeing your wall, it seemed my safety layIn that leap, could I make it.

Pal.’Twas as I fled for life: the hue-and-cry

Came gathering faster round me: being still clear,

And seeing your wall, it seemed my safety lay

In that leap, could I make it.

Man.Thou’rt the last,And only offspring of a noble stock.The blood that I have staunched in thy veins,Sprang from the heart of Sicily, and flowsRedder than mine, tho’ mine too once was mixed,And not unworthily, with thine, and nowFrom my great grandsire’s marriage both our bloods360Are even as one, and thy blood on my handsIs mine, and mine within my veins is thine.I cannot send thee to thy death, Giovanni;I may not shelter thee from justice: See,Thou hast done me a grievous wrong.

Man.Thou’rt the last,

And only offspring of a noble stock.

The blood that I have staunched in thy veins,

Sprang from the heart of Sicily, and flows

Redder than mine, tho’ mine too once was mixed,

And not unworthily, with thine, and now

From my great grandsire’s marriage both our bloods

Are even as one, and thy blood on my hands

Is mine, and mine within my veins is thine.

I cannot send thee to thy death, Giovanni;

I may not shelter thee from justice: See,

Thou hast done me a grievous wrong.

Pal.Yet hide me awhile.This house may be my prison.

Pal.Yet hide me awhile.

This house may be my prison.

Man.Thou hast this hope:The king being dead ...

Man.Thou hast this hope:

The king being dead ...

Pal.Is’t true that Pedro is dead?

Man.Ay, true enough.

Pal.Then are you free. I am safe.

[Puts dagger in his bosom.

Man.I say this is thy hope. The king being dead,370Such offices as hold under the crownNeed confirmation. Now I do not sayAllegiance lapses; but, if I be quickTo guess the new king’s will, that he will changeOur viceroy—which I doubt not,—I may be boldNow to withhold my duties from a servantDiscredited, contending that they hangUpon my judgment, for my deeds to giveAfter-account. See, ’tis a subtle pointI strain for thee, rather than hurt the claim380Of kinship. Thou shalt be my prisonerFor these few days. By chance I have a roomFit for thy lodging: there I’ll shew thee now,And thence thou must not stir. I’ll bring thee food,Look to thy wants, and try to cure thy wound.Thou on thy part must lie as still as oneThat hushes for his life. What, man; thou’rt faintFor loss of blood, and strain? Cannot you stand?Stand up, or I must carry you. Indeed,Carry him I must ... see, now, where be my keys?

Man.I say this is thy hope. The king being dead,

Such offices as hold under the crown

Need confirmation. Now I do not say

Allegiance lapses; but, if I be quick

To guess the new king’s will, that he will change

Our viceroy—which I doubt not,—I may be bold

Now to withhold my duties from a servant

Discredited, contending that they hang

Upon my judgment, for my deeds to give

After-account. See, ’tis a subtle point

I strain for thee, rather than hurt the claim

Of kinship. Thou shalt be my prisoner

For these few days. By chance I have a room

Fit for thy lodging: there I’ll shew thee now,

And thence thou must not stir. I’ll bring thee food,

Look to thy wants, and try to cure thy wound.

Thou on thy part must lie as still as one

That hushes for his life. What, man; thou’rt faint

For loss of blood, and strain? Cannot you stand?

Stand up, or I must carry you. Indeed,

Carry him I must ... see, now, where be my keys?

[Going, carrying Palicio.

Hall in Manuel’s house. MARGARET and CONSTANCE.MARGARET.390Sweet, happy Constance, tell me why thou sighest.What can’st thou lack?CONSTANCE.I am not very happy.Mar.Not happy, thou? Woe for the world! I thoughtLove was God’s perfect recipe, to drowseAll mortal stings. Yet sainted marriage hathOne threat—the loss of liberty: is’t that?It well may fright. To have been a girl with meSo long, and make at last the outrageous stroke,And live as do our aunts! Were’t not my brother,I’d kill the man.Con.Margaret!Mar.Well mayst thou sigh:I can sigh for thee.400Con.I should love to hear thee.Thou owest me sighs, for mine were thoughts of thee.Mar.Because I love not? Hast thou forgot alreadyLife may be tolerable for a womanWithout thy joy?Con.You treat poor LivioUnkindly, Margaret.Mar.Now, if that’s the grief,We have threshed it out before.Con.I shall not spare you,Till you are kinder.Mar.Yet if I were kinder,And he should build a hope upon that kindness,Until it proved unkinder than unkindness?Con.He loves you well.Mar.No better than the others;411Than Ventimiglia loves, or Chiaramonte,Good Michael Rosso, or the impudent Blasco,Or my new courtier Ferdinand.Con.He lovesWith all his heart. Life is as tedious to himAs to the dark and dusty wheel, which jerksBehind the dial-face, until he see you;When for his joy you give him but disdain.Mar.Thou didst not tell him thou wouldst speak for him?Con.Why not?Mar.Now I, Constance, have something fresh:A mystery.Con.A mystery?420Mar.Yes, a mystery.Guess what it is.Con.How should I guess?Mar.Indeed,Guessing would never wind it.Con.Then, prithee, tell me.Mar.I died to tell thee ere thou camest, and nowI grudge it sadly. Yet, for the fresh mount’Twill give thy thoughts, I’ll tell. ’Twas yesternight,Just on the stroke of one ...Con.’Tis not a ghost?Mar.If after all ’twere but a ghost!Con.Come, tell me.Mar.Thou wilt not breathe a word?Con.No, not a word.Mar.Thou know’st the casement of my bedroom looks430Across the court. There as I stood last night,Watching the moon awhile, ere I shut outThe sleepless splendour from my dreams, I heardA heavy step pass down the gallery.’Tis Manuel, I thought, who goes to lieIn the little chamber at the back,—for PhilipHad his;—but, for some strangeness in the stepPricked my attention, and to content my thought,I lent my ear to the sound, until it reachedThe door at the end: there, standing by the window440I saw him plain: ’twas he, but in his armsA woman, fainting as I thought, or dead.Her arms hung loose, and o’er his shoulder thrownHer head fell back.Con.A woman! art thou sure?Mar.He could not carry a ghost. Besides, this morningI watched him: he took thither meat and drink,And locked the door, and strictly bade the servantsThey should not enter.Con.Hast thou questioned him?Mar.I have not so much as let him speak with me.He might forbid me: and, O my curiosity,I must know more.450Con.What dost thou think to learn?Mar.I have neither guess nor hope; I lay awakeAn hour, and thought of fifty things, not oneOf any likelihood. In all romanceNo lady in distress ere came at midnightTo the house of the chief justice. I could wishThis beauteous maiden were a young princessFled o’er the seas disguised.Con.Then thou couldst seeWhat she was like.Mar.Why, no,—how could I see?I only saw that she was dark.Con.Thou saidstThat she was beautiful.460Mar.Of course she is youngAnd beautiful. Why,—you are not jealous, Constance?Con.Not jealous, no.Mar.And the only pity of itIs that she’ll prove in the end a poor relationFall’n to our care, or some more hapless girlLeft on the doorstep dying.Con.In such case,What were the need of secrecy?Mar.I wishI had never told thee aught. Why shouldst thou fancyImpossibilities?Con.What is impossible?Mar.I fear now that the sight of thy old love,470Philip the false, hath turned thy happier trust.Thou’rt changed.Con.Nay, nay: I am not: and yet ’tis trueHis coming is my trouble.[Weeps.Mar.Forgive me, sweetest.Con.Margaret, you know I have none at all but youTo unfold my heart to: only you can tellWhat I must feel at his return: you knowHow far I loved, how much I was deceived.His oaths of faith you heard from me, and sharedThe joy of my delusion: and at last,When he deserted me, you made your heart480The prison of my sorrows: you exhorted,—O, you advised me well,—Be sure, you said,Love that so breaks cannot be trusted more.You bade me cast it off like an ill dream.You found what life he led: how he profanedHis honourable passion in the playOf errant gallantries. All that sad timeI leaned on you, and ’twas your friendship gaveThe occasions whence my love with Manuel sprung.You led me still, you gave me confidence;490Your comfort turned to joy, Manuel was mine.When suddenly on some mysterious causeHe holds aloof: my joy is bid await.O, Margaret, if you understood love’s joy,How closely ’tis inwoven with fear to lose,You would not wonder that I tremble, seeingThis shadow blot my sunshine, that my fearDiscolours every circumstance. To meThe common course of things on which men countIs the only miracle, all chances elseAs they are feared are likely. O, do not blame me.501Philip is like an evil spirit beside meThat stands to smile on what I dread to think.Mar.Philip being false can give no cause to doubtOf Manuel’s faith.Con.I doubt him not: and yetIf I speak of my brother you only laugh,But if you speak of yours ...Mar.Round, round again.Betwixt our brothers grant some difference.Thy Livio is a boy of slender parts,Led by his passions. Manuel is a man510Austere and stern; he is above suspicion.Con.I do not doubt his truth, but find such sternnessUnkind to love. My brother’s love for youIs simple: Manuel’s love hath some reserve;A veil, behind which, since I have never seen,I have dreamed or feared a terror lay: ofttimesWhen I have been with him, a pleasant hourHas ended suddenly, as if his spiritWas angered, and withdrew: then in his eyesIs nothing left but barren contemplation,520To which I am an object as another;Until he sighs, as conscious of the change.The disappointment of our marriage bringsScarce a regret to him: I heard him speakLate to my father of it, as ’twere a thingHe held indifferently. There is some secretWhich I would know: maybe this is a clue.Mar.What is the clue?Con.This lady.Mar.O, thou’rt sick.But I can cure thee, wilt thou do my bidding.Con.What would you bid?Mar.Give rein to jealousy,530Ay, spur it on to falling. Fear the worst,Believe the worst. Thou shalt suspect my brother;He trifles, loves this lady: choose your tale:Thou wilt not doubt again.Con.I do not doubt him.Nay, I will bid him tell me all.Mar.And soBetray thy doubt to him. Be wiser, madam!Look to thy cure: indulge thy jealousy:To which end I encourage it. Indeed,I am come to think there’s cause, and thy suspicionHath much enhanced my mystery. Go thou home:540There make thyself unhappy. I meanwhileWill root this out, and since I am housekeeperI can go where I will.Con.I pray thee, Margaret ...Mar.I must be jealous where my brother is wronged.Thou art the accuser, and the evidenceTells now for thee: ’tis my part to acquit us.Hinder me not.Con.When wilt thou know?Mar.Maybe’Tis as thou fearest.Con.Wilt thou mock me so?Mar.I bid thee go. Be sure I’ll come to thee,Or send thee word.Con.But when?Mar.I make no promise.550I cannot pity thee, and till thou goestI can do nothing.Con.Promise me to send.Mar.I have promised that. Farewell!Con.To-day?Mar.To-day.Trust me, I go at once.[Exeunt.

Hall in Manuel’s house. MARGARET and CONSTANCE.

MARGARET.

390Sweet, happy Constance, tell me why thou sighest.What can’st thou lack?

Sweet, happy Constance, tell me why thou sighest.

What can’st thou lack?

CONSTANCE.

I am not very happy.

Mar.Not happy, thou? Woe for the world! I thoughtLove was God’s perfect recipe, to drowseAll mortal stings. Yet sainted marriage hathOne threat—the loss of liberty: is’t that?It well may fright. To have been a girl with meSo long, and make at last the outrageous stroke,And live as do our aunts! Were’t not my brother,I’d kill the man.

Mar.Not happy, thou? Woe for the world! I thought

Love was God’s perfect recipe, to drowse

All mortal stings. Yet sainted marriage hath

One threat—the loss of liberty: is’t that?

It well may fright. To have been a girl with me

So long, and make at last the outrageous stroke,

And live as do our aunts! Were’t not my brother,

I’d kill the man.

Con.Margaret!

Mar.Well mayst thou sigh:I can sigh for thee.

Mar.Well mayst thou sigh:

I can sigh for thee.

400Con.I should love to hear thee.Thou owest me sighs, for mine were thoughts of thee.

Con.I should love to hear thee.

Thou owest me sighs, for mine were thoughts of thee.

Mar.Because I love not? Hast thou forgot alreadyLife may be tolerable for a womanWithout thy joy?

Mar.Because I love not? Hast thou forgot already

Life may be tolerable for a woman

Without thy joy?

Con.You treat poor LivioUnkindly, Margaret.

Con.You treat poor Livio

Unkindly, Margaret.

Mar.Now, if that’s the grief,We have threshed it out before.

Mar.Now, if that’s the grief,

We have threshed it out before.

Con.I shall not spare you,Till you are kinder.

Con.I shall not spare you,

Till you are kinder.

Mar.Yet if I were kinder,And he should build a hope upon that kindness,Until it proved unkinder than unkindness?

Mar.Yet if I were kinder,

And he should build a hope upon that kindness,

Until it proved unkinder than unkindness?

Con.He loves you well.

Mar.No better than the others;411Than Ventimiglia loves, or Chiaramonte,Good Michael Rosso, or the impudent Blasco,Or my new courtier Ferdinand.

Mar.No better than the others;

Than Ventimiglia loves, or Chiaramonte,

Good Michael Rosso, or the impudent Blasco,

Or my new courtier Ferdinand.

Con.He lovesWith all his heart. Life is as tedious to himAs to the dark and dusty wheel, which jerksBehind the dial-face, until he see you;When for his joy you give him but disdain.

Con.He loves

With all his heart. Life is as tedious to him

As to the dark and dusty wheel, which jerks

Behind the dial-face, until he see you;

When for his joy you give him but disdain.

Mar.Thou didst not tell him thou wouldst speak for him?

Con.Why not?

Mar.Now I, Constance, have something fresh:A mystery.

Mar.Now I, Constance, have something fresh:

A mystery.

Con.A mystery?

420Mar.Yes, a mystery.Guess what it is.

Mar.Yes, a mystery.

Guess what it is.

Con.How should I guess?

Mar.Indeed,Guessing would never wind it.

Mar.Indeed,

Guessing would never wind it.

Con.Then, prithee, tell me.

Mar.I died to tell thee ere thou camest, and nowI grudge it sadly. Yet, for the fresh mount’Twill give thy thoughts, I’ll tell. ’Twas yesternight,Just on the stroke of one ...

Mar.I died to tell thee ere thou camest, and now

I grudge it sadly. Yet, for the fresh mount

’Twill give thy thoughts, I’ll tell. ’Twas yesternight,

Just on the stroke of one ...

Con.’Tis not a ghost?

Mar.If after all ’twere but a ghost!

Con.Come, tell me.

Mar.Thou wilt not breathe a word?

Con.No, not a word.

Mar.Thou know’st the casement of my bedroom looks430Across the court. There as I stood last night,Watching the moon awhile, ere I shut outThe sleepless splendour from my dreams, I heardA heavy step pass down the gallery.’Tis Manuel, I thought, who goes to lieIn the little chamber at the back,—for PhilipHad his;—but, for some strangeness in the stepPricked my attention, and to content my thought,I lent my ear to the sound, until it reachedThe door at the end: there, standing by the window440I saw him plain: ’twas he, but in his armsA woman, fainting as I thought, or dead.Her arms hung loose, and o’er his shoulder thrownHer head fell back.

Mar.Thou know’st the casement of my bedroom looks

Across the court. There as I stood last night,

Watching the moon awhile, ere I shut out

The sleepless splendour from my dreams, I heard

A heavy step pass down the gallery.

’Tis Manuel, I thought, who goes to lie

In the little chamber at the back,—for Philip

Had his;—but, for some strangeness in the step

Pricked my attention, and to content my thought,

I lent my ear to the sound, until it reached

The door at the end: there, standing by the window

I saw him plain: ’twas he, but in his arms

A woman, fainting as I thought, or dead.

Her arms hung loose, and o’er his shoulder thrown

Her head fell back.

Con.A woman! art thou sure?

Mar.He could not carry a ghost. Besides, this morningI watched him: he took thither meat and drink,And locked the door, and strictly bade the servantsThey should not enter.

Mar.He could not carry a ghost. Besides, this morning

I watched him: he took thither meat and drink,

And locked the door, and strictly bade the servants

They should not enter.

Con.Hast thou questioned him?

Mar.I have not so much as let him speak with me.He might forbid me: and, O my curiosity,I must know more.

Mar.I have not so much as let him speak with me.

He might forbid me: and, O my curiosity,

I must know more.

450Con.What dost thou think to learn?

Con.What dost thou think to learn?

Mar.I have neither guess nor hope; I lay awakeAn hour, and thought of fifty things, not oneOf any likelihood. In all romanceNo lady in distress ere came at midnightTo the house of the chief justice. I could wishThis beauteous maiden were a young princessFled o’er the seas disguised.

Mar.I have neither guess nor hope; I lay awake

An hour, and thought of fifty things, not one

Of any likelihood. In all romance

No lady in distress ere came at midnight

To the house of the chief justice. I could wish

This beauteous maiden were a young princess

Fled o’er the seas disguised.

Con.Then thou couldst seeWhat she was like.

Con.Then thou couldst see

What she was like.

Mar.Why, no,—how could I see?I only saw that she was dark.

Mar.Why, no,—how could I see?

I only saw that she was dark.

Con.Thou saidstThat she was beautiful.

Con.Thou saidst

That she was beautiful.

460Mar.Of course she is youngAnd beautiful. Why,—you are not jealous, Constance?

Mar.Of course she is young

And beautiful. Why,—you are not jealous, Constance?

Con.Not jealous, no.

Mar.And the only pity of itIs that she’ll prove in the end a poor relationFall’n to our care, or some more hapless girlLeft on the doorstep dying.

Mar.And the only pity of it

Is that she’ll prove in the end a poor relation

Fall’n to our care, or some more hapless girl

Left on the doorstep dying.

Con.In such case,What were the need of secrecy?

Con.In such case,

What were the need of secrecy?

Mar.I wishI had never told thee aught. Why shouldst thou fancyImpossibilities?

Mar.I wish

I had never told thee aught. Why shouldst thou fancy

Impossibilities?

Con.What is impossible?

Mar.I fear now that the sight of thy old love,470Philip the false, hath turned thy happier trust.Thou’rt changed.

Mar.I fear now that the sight of thy old love,

Philip the false, hath turned thy happier trust.

Thou’rt changed.

Con.Nay, nay: I am not: and yet ’tis trueHis coming is my trouble.[Weeps.

Con.Nay, nay: I am not: and yet ’tis true

His coming is my trouble.[Weeps.

Mar.Forgive me, sweetest.

Con.Margaret, you know I have none at all but youTo unfold my heart to: only you can tellWhat I must feel at his return: you knowHow far I loved, how much I was deceived.His oaths of faith you heard from me, and sharedThe joy of my delusion: and at last,When he deserted me, you made your heart480The prison of my sorrows: you exhorted,—O, you advised me well,—Be sure, you said,Love that so breaks cannot be trusted more.You bade me cast it off like an ill dream.You found what life he led: how he profanedHis honourable passion in the playOf errant gallantries. All that sad timeI leaned on you, and ’twas your friendship gaveThe occasions whence my love with Manuel sprung.You led me still, you gave me confidence;490Your comfort turned to joy, Manuel was mine.When suddenly on some mysterious causeHe holds aloof: my joy is bid await.O, Margaret, if you understood love’s joy,How closely ’tis inwoven with fear to lose,You would not wonder that I tremble, seeingThis shadow blot my sunshine, that my fearDiscolours every circumstance. To meThe common course of things on which men countIs the only miracle, all chances elseAs they are feared are likely. O, do not blame me.501Philip is like an evil spirit beside meThat stands to smile on what I dread to think.

Con.Margaret, you know I have none at all but you

To unfold my heart to: only you can tell

What I must feel at his return: you know

How far I loved, how much I was deceived.

His oaths of faith you heard from me, and shared

The joy of my delusion: and at last,

When he deserted me, you made your heart

The prison of my sorrows: you exhorted,—

O, you advised me well,—Be sure, you said,

Love that so breaks cannot be trusted more.

You bade me cast it off like an ill dream.

You found what life he led: how he profaned

His honourable passion in the play

Of errant gallantries. All that sad time

I leaned on you, and ’twas your friendship gave

The occasions whence my love with Manuel sprung.

You led me still, you gave me confidence;

Your comfort turned to joy, Manuel was mine.

When suddenly on some mysterious cause

He holds aloof: my joy is bid await.

O, Margaret, if you understood love’s joy,

How closely ’tis inwoven with fear to lose,

You would not wonder that I tremble, seeing

This shadow blot my sunshine, that my fear

Discolours every circumstance. To me

The common course of things on which men count

Is the only miracle, all chances else

As they are feared are likely. O, do not blame me.

Philip is like an evil spirit beside me

That stands to smile on what I dread to think.

Mar.Philip being false can give no cause to doubtOf Manuel’s faith.

Mar.Philip being false can give no cause to doubt

Of Manuel’s faith.

Con.I doubt him not: and yetIf I speak of my brother you only laugh,But if you speak of yours ...

Con.I doubt him not: and yet

If I speak of my brother you only laugh,

But if you speak of yours ...

Mar.Round, round again.Betwixt our brothers grant some difference.Thy Livio is a boy of slender parts,Led by his passions. Manuel is a man510Austere and stern; he is above suspicion.

Mar.Round, round again.

Betwixt our brothers grant some difference.

Thy Livio is a boy of slender parts,

Led by his passions. Manuel is a man

Austere and stern; he is above suspicion.

Con.I do not doubt his truth, but find such sternnessUnkind to love. My brother’s love for youIs simple: Manuel’s love hath some reserve;A veil, behind which, since I have never seen,I have dreamed or feared a terror lay: ofttimesWhen I have been with him, a pleasant hourHas ended suddenly, as if his spiritWas angered, and withdrew: then in his eyesIs nothing left but barren contemplation,520To which I am an object as another;Until he sighs, as conscious of the change.The disappointment of our marriage bringsScarce a regret to him: I heard him speakLate to my father of it, as ’twere a thingHe held indifferently. There is some secretWhich I would know: maybe this is a clue.

Con.I do not doubt his truth, but find such sternness

Unkind to love. My brother’s love for you

Is simple: Manuel’s love hath some reserve;

A veil, behind which, since I have never seen,

I have dreamed or feared a terror lay: ofttimes

When I have been with him, a pleasant hour

Has ended suddenly, as if his spirit

Was angered, and withdrew: then in his eyes

Is nothing left but barren contemplation,

To which I am an object as another;

Until he sighs, as conscious of the change.

The disappointment of our marriage brings

Scarce a regret to him: I heard him speak

Late to my father of it, as ’twere a thing

He held indifferently. There is some secret

Which I would know: maybe this is a clue.

Mar.What is the clue?

Con.This lady.

Mar.O, thou’rt sick.But I can cure thee, wilt thou do my bidding.

Mar.O, thou’rt sick.

But I can cure thee, wilt thou do my bidding.

Con.What would you bid?

Mar.Give rein to jealousy,530Ay, spur it on to falling. Fear the worst,Believe the worst. Thou shalt suspect my brother;He trifles, loves this lady: choose your tale:Thou wilt not doubt again.

Mar.Give rein to jealousy,

Ay, spur it on to falling. Fear the worst,

Believe the worst. Thou shalt suspect my brother;

He trifles, loves this lady: choose your tale:

Thou wilt not doubt again.

Con.I do not doubt him.Nay, I will bid him tell me all.

Con.I do not doubt him.

Nay, I will bid him tell me all.

Mar.And soBetray thy doubt to him. Be wiser, madam!Look to thy cure: indulge thy jealousy:To which end I encourage it. Indeed,I am come to think there’s cause, and thy suspicionHath much enhanced my mystery. Go thou home:540There make thyself unhappy. I meanwhileWill root this out, and since I am housekeeperI can go where I will.

Mar.And so

Betray thy doubt to him. Be wiser, madam!

Look to thy cure: indulge thy jealousy:

To which end I encourage it. Indeed,

I am come to think there’s cause, and thy suspicion

Hath much enhanced my mystery. Go thou home:

There make thyself unhappy. I meanwhile

Will root this out, and since I am housekeeper

I can go where I will.

Con.I pray thee, Margaret ...

Mar.I must be jealous where my brother is wronged.Thou art the accuser, and the evidenceTells now for thee: ’tis my part to acquit us.Hinder me not.

Mar.I must be jealous where my brother is wronged.

Thou art the accuser, and the evidence

Tells now for thee: ’tis my part to acquit us.

Hinder me not.

Con.When wilt thou know?

Mar.Maybe’Tis as thou fearest.

Mar.Maybe

’Tis as thou fearest.

Con.Wilt thou mock me so?

Mar.I bid thee go. Be sure I’ll come to thee,Or send thee word.

Mar.I bid thee go. Be sure I’ll come to thee,

Or send thee word.

Con.But when?

Mar.I make no promise.550I cannot pity thee, and till thou goestI can do nothing.

Mar.I make no promise.

I cannot pity thee, and till thou goest

I can do nothing.

Con.Promise me to send.

Mar.I have promised that. Farewell!

Con.To-day?

Mar.To-day.Trust me, I go at once.[Exeunt.

Mar.To-day.

Trust me, I go at once.[Exeunt.

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