  DRAMATIS PERSONÆ
ACT IScene I.—Outside Gil Perez’s House.Enter Pedro running; Gil Perez after him with a drawn dagger; and Isabel and Casilda interceding. Isab. Fly, Pedro, fly! Gil. And what the use his flying If I be after him? Ped. Hold him! hold him back, Both of you! Gil. By the Lord, I’ll do for him. Isab. But why so savage with him? Gil. He must pay The long arrear of mischief you’ve run up. Isab. I understand you not. Gil. I’ll kill him first, And then explain. Isab. I, who dread not bodily violence, Dread your injurious words. What have I done That you should use me thus?—my enemy, And not my brother. Gil. You say well your enemy, Who, if you do as you have done so long, Will one day bathe his sword in your heart’s blood, And after in his own, and so wipe out One scandal from the world. Ped. As the good soul Who meddles to make peace between two brawlers Oft gets the bloody nose, I’ll take the hint. Farewell, fair Spain! for evermore farewell! Gil. Here! hark you, sir; Before you go; you have escaped this time By luck, not by desert. I give you warning, Keep from my sight: for if I see your face Fifty years hence, among the antipodes, I’ll pay you off. Ped. Pray don’t disturb yourself; I’ll take you at your word, and straight be off To some old friends of mine—indeed relations— In central Africa—the Ourang Outangs: A colony so distant as I trust Will satisfy us both. And so, good bye. [Exit; Casilda after him. Isab. He’s gone, poor fellow. And now perhaps, sir, as we are alone, You’ll tell me why you do affront me thus. Gil. Sister—oh, would to God that I had none To call by such a name at such expense! And can you think that I have been so blind, As well as dumb, not to be ware the tricks Of the sly gentleman who follows you So constantly, and who, if this goes on, Will one day filch away, not your own only, But the long garner’d honour of our house? Why, I have seen it all from first to last, But would not show my teeth till I could bite; Because, in points like this, a man of honour Speaks once, and once for all. This once is now. I’ll speak my mind to you; Which, if you cannot understand, to-morrow I must repeat in quite another language. I know your man—Juan Baptista—one Not man enough for me, and so, I tell you, Not for my sister. This should be enough, Without his being, as he is, a Jew. To get you from his reach I brought you here To Salvatierra, deep amid the mountains, And safe enough I thought; but even here His cursÈd letters reach you through the hands Of that fine rascal I have just pack’d off. There; I have told my story; take ’t to heart; Dismiss your man at once, or, by the Lord, If you and he persist, I’ll fire his house, And save the Inquisition that much trouble. Isab. Your anger makes you blind—accusing me Of things I never did. Gil. You never did! Isab. But so it is, poor women must submit To such insinuations. Gil. Pray, was ’t I Insinuated that letter then? Isab. Peace, peace! I can explain it all, and shall, when fit. What would you have of me? You are my brother, And not my husband, sir; consider that: And therefore, in fraternal kindness bound, Should even take my word without ado. You talk of honour: is not honour then Slow to suspect—would rather be deceived Itself than prematurely to accuse? I am your sister, Perez, and I know My duty towards you and myself. Enough— Which, if you cannot understand, to-morrow I must repeat in quite another language. [Exit. Gil. She says not ill; it better were indeed Had I kept on the mask a little longer, Till they had dropt theirs beyond all denial. She’s right, and I was wrong; but from this time I’ll steer another course. Enter Casilda. Cas. A gentleman (Of Portugal, he says,) is at the door, And asks for you. Gil. Bid him come in. Away, My troubles, for a while! [Exit Casilda. Enter Manuel Mendez. Man. ’Twas well, Gil Perez, You sent so quickly, or my impetuosity Had overrun your leave. Gil. What, Manuel Mendez! Come to my arms. What! you in Salvatierra? Man. And, I assure you, at no small expense Of risk and heart-ache. Gil. That’s unwelcome news. Man. Not when ’tis all forgotten in the joy Of seeing you again. Gil. I shall not rest Till I have heard; ill-manner’d though it be To tax a man scarce winded from a journey With such expense of breath. Man. Then listen, Gil. You, I am sure, remember (time and absence Cannot have washt so much from memory) The pleasant time when you were last at Lisbon, And graced my house by making it your home. I need not tell of all we did and talk’d, Save what concerns me now; of the fair lady You knew me then enamour’d of, (how deeply I need not say—being a Portuguese, Which saying, all is said)—Donna Juana, At whose mere name I tremble, as some seer Smit with the sudden presence of his God. Two years we lived in the security Of mutual love, with so much jealousy (Without which love is scarcely love at all) As served to freshen up its sleeping surface, But not to stir its depths. Ah, dangerous To warm the viper, or, for idle sport, Trust to the treacherous sea—sooner or later They turn upon us; so these jealousies I liked to toy with first turn’d upon me; When suddenly a rich young cavalier, Well graced with all that does and ought to please, (For I would not revenge me with my tongue Upon his name, but with my sword in’s blood,) Demanded her in marriage of her father; Who being poor, and bargains quickly made ’Twixt avarice and wealth, quickly agreed. The wedding day drew nigh that was to be The day of funeral too—mixt dance and dirge, And grave and bridal chamber both in one. The guests were met; already night began Loose the full tide of noisy merriment, When I strode in; straight through the wedding throng Up to the bride and bridegroom where they were, And, seizing her with one hand, with the other Struck him a corpse; and daring all, to die Fighting, or fighting carry off my prize, Carried her off; lifted her on a horse I had outside; struck spur; and lightning-like Away, until we reach’d the boundary Of Portugal, and, safe on Spanish ground, At last drew breath and bridle. Then on hither, Where I was sure of refuge in the arms Of my old friend Gil Perez; whom I pray Not so much on the score of an old friendship, So long and warm, but as a fugitive Asking protection at his generous hands— A plea the noble never hear in vain. Nor for myself alone, but for my lady Who comes with me, and whom I just have left Under the poplars by the river-side, Till I had told my news, and heard your answer. A servant whom we met with on the way, Pointed your house out—whither, travel-tired, Press’d for my life, and deep in love with her I bring, as curst by those I left behind, And trusting him I come to— Gil. Tut, tut, tut! Go on so, I’ll not answer you at all; All this fine talk to me! from Manuel Mendez! As if ’twere not enough to say ‘Friend Gil, I’ve left a gentleman I slew behind, And got a living lady with me, so Am come to visit you.’ Why go about With phrases and fine speeches? I shall answer Quite unpolitely thus, ‘Friend Manuel, This house of mine is yours—for months, for years, For all your life, with all the service in ’t That I or mine can do for you.’ So back, And bring your lady, telling her from me I stay behind because I am unapt At such fine speeches as her lover makes. Man. Oh, let me thank you,— Gil. Nay, ’twere better far Go to your lady; who may be ill at ease Alone in a strange place. [Exit Manuel. What, Isabel! (She enters.) Isabel, if my former love and care Deserve of you at all, forget awhile All difference, (for there’s a time for all,) And help me now to honour an old friend To whom I owe great hospitalities; Manuel Mendez, who with his bride is come To be my guest. Isab. I’ll do my best for you. But hark! what noise? (Shouts and fighting within.) Gil. A quarrel’s up somewhere. Voice within. Take him alive or dead. Another voice. He’ll slip us yet! Isab. Some one on horseback flying at full speed From his pursuers. Voices within. Fire upon him! fire! (Shots within.) Isab. Mercy, he’s dead! Gil. Not he; only his horse; And see he’s up again, and gallantly Flashing his sword around on his pursuers Keeps them at bay, and fighting, fighting, still Retreats— Isab. And to our house too— Enter Don Alonso. Alon. Shelter! shelter! In pity to a wretched man at last Fordone! Gil. What, Don Alonso! Alon. But a moment, To ask you cover my retreat, Gil Perez; My life depends on reaching Portugal. Gil. Away then to the bridge you see below there. God speed you. Alon. And keep you! [Exit. Voices without. This way! this way! Gil. But just in time! Enter Sheriff with Officers. Officer. I’m sure he pass’d by here. Gil. Well, gentlemen, your business? Sher. Don Alonso— Came he this way? Gil. He did, and he went that, And must almost, unless I much mistake, Be got to Portugal. For, by the Lord, sir, His feet seem’d feather’d with the wind? Sher. Away then! After him! Gil. Stop a moment! Sher. Stop! what mean you? Gil. Just what I say. Come, Mr. Sheriff, come, You’ve done your duty; be content with that; And don’t hunt gentlemen like wolves to death; Justice is one thing, and fair play’s another, All the world over. Sher. When I’ve got my man I’ll answer you. Gil. Perhaps before. Sher. Why, sir, Would you detain me? Gil. Why, if logic fails, I must try other argument. Sher. As what, sir? Gil. Why, mathematical. As how? Look here. You see me draw this line. Well then, ’fore God, The man who passes it—dies. Q. E. D. Sher. Down with him! Gil. Back, I advise you. Voices. Down with him! Gil. Chicken-hearts! Curs! Oh, you will down with me, Will you indeed? and this the way you do it? (He fights with them.) One. Oh, I am slain. Sher. I’m wounded. Gil. Back with you! [Exit, driving them in. Scene II.—The River-side.Enter Juana and Manuel. Jua. Oh never did I owe more to your love, Than for this quick return. Man. O my Juana, The love such beauty as your own inspires, Surmounts impossibilities. However, I needed not go on to Salvatierra, Lighting on what I look’d for by the way, Among the mountains; where my friend Gil Perez (Whose honour I insult if I declare it) Has pitcht his tent, with hospitality Prophetic of our coming; So peaceably our love may fold its wings Under the shadow of my friend’s. Jua. Oh, Manuel, She who has left home, country, friends, and fame, And would contentedly leave life, for you, Desires no other temple of her love Than a bleak rock, whose unchanged stedfastness Shall not out-wear her own. Alon. (within). I can no more! Jua. Listen! What noise is that? Man. A cavalier Still with his sword in his exhausted hand. He falls! Enter Alonzo, who falls at the side. Alon. They e’en must have me. Man. Courage, sir. Wounded? (Voices within.) Alon. Hark! the bloodhounds are close by; And worse, they must have slain Gil Perez first. Who else— Enter Gil. Gil. Confound the rogues, they’ve got the bridge And the way to ’t, and heav’n itself, I think, To fight upon their side. Man. Gil, what is this? Gil. Trying to help a friend out of a ditch, I’ve tumbled in myself. Man. Come, we are two In hand, and one in heart; at least can fight And die together. Alon. Nay, add me; The cause— Gil. There’s but a moment. Manuel, I charge you by your friendship, Draw not your sword to-day. Man. Not I my sword When theirs are on you? Jua. (clinging to Manuel). Heav’ns! Voices, within. This way! This way! Man. They’re coming. Gil (to Alonso). Listen! you can swim? Alon. Alas— Gil. I mean upon my shoulders. Manuel, We two shall cross to Portugal, Where follow us they may, but cannot seize us. Meanwhile I leave you master of my house And honour, centred (no time to say more) In Isabel, my sister. Swear to me That you will see to this. Man. I swear it, Gil. Gil. Enough, your hand! Adieu! Now courage, sir! (Takes Alonso on his shoulders and plunges into the river.) Jua. The man swims like a dolphin. Gil (within). Manuel, Remember! Man. How he wrestles with the flood! And now is half-way over. Gil (within). Manuel, Remember! I have trusted all to you. Man. Waste not your breath. I’ll do ’t. Gil (within). Adieu! Man. Adieu! [Exit Manuel with Juana. Scene III.—The Portuguese bank of the River.Enter the Admiral of Portugal and Donna Leonor as from hunting. Adm. Since summer’s fiery Sirius, fair cousin, Neither from place nor power in heaven declines, Will you not rest? Leonor. Ah, what a noble sport Is hunting! who so abject-spirited As not to love its generous cruelty! Adm. It is indeed a noble imitation Of noblest war. As when a white-tuskt boar Holds out alone against the yelling pack, Gores one, o’erthrows another, all the while Bristling his back like to some ridge of spears: While many a gallant hound, foil’d in his onset, Tears his own flesh in disappointed rage, Then to the charge again—he and his foe, Each with redoubled fury firing up: A chivalry that nature has implanted Ev’n in the heart of beasts. Leonor. So in falconry, That I love even better; when the heron Mounts to the wandering spheres of air and fire, Poised between which alternately she burns And freezes, while two falcons, wheeling round, Strive to out-mount her, tilting all along The fair blue field of heaven for their lists; Until out-ris’n and stricken, drencht in blood, Plumb down she falls like to some crimson star; A rivalry that nature has implanted Ev’n in the breast of birds. Enter Pedro. Ped. Which is the way, I wonder? What with fright and weariness, I must rest awhile. Well, this is Portugal, where to be sure a poor Spanish pimp may hope to escape ferocious honour. That I should lose a post where others make their thousands at my first function! But who are these? Fine folks too! Pray Heaven they be in want of an officer. Adm. A horse will soon carry you to the villa. Hark you, sir! (To Pedro.) Ped. My lord! Adm. Who are you? Ped. Nay, how should I know? Adm. But are you one of my people? Ped. Yes, if you like it. As said Lord Somebody, who neither served king, man, or God, but who entering the palace one day at supper-time, and seeing all the chamberlains at work without their coats, whips off his, and begins carrying up dishes. Suddenly in comes the major-domo, who perceiving a stranger, asks if he be sworn of the service. ‘Not yet,’ says he, ‘but if swearing is all that’s wanted, I’ll swear to what you please.’ So ’tis with me. Make me your servant, and I’ll swear and forswear anything. Adm. You are liberal of your humour. Ped. ’Tis all I have to be liberal of; and it would not be right to spare that. Gil (within). Hold on, hold on! Leonor. Who’s that? Adm. Look, some one with erect head and vigorous arms, buffeting the wave before him. Leonor. With another on his shoulders too. Adm. (to Pedro). Now, would you win an earnest of future favour, plunge in to his assistance. Ped. I would, sir, but I’m a wretched swimmer. Leonor. They have reacht the shore at last. Enter Gil Perez and Alonso, drencht. Alon. Thank Heaven for our escape! Gil. Ah, we’re well quit of it. Ped. Now, sir, if I can help. But Lord ha’ mercy! (Sees Gil.) Adm. What! going just when you are wanted? Ped. I was born, my lord, with a tender heart; that seeing these poor fellows so drencht, bleeds for them. That he should pursue me even to Portugal! (Is creeping away.) Adm. What! only just come, and going? Ped. Oh, my lord, a sudden call. Excuse me. [Exit. Adm. ’Tis an idiot. But let me help you. Alon. My life is in your hand. Adm. In my hand? How is that? Alon. You shall hear, if I may first know to whom I tell my story. Misfortune forces me to be cautious. Adm. You are right; but need fear nothing from the Lord High Admiral of Portugal, who now speaks to you, and pledges himself to protect you so long as you stand on his estate. Alon. Enough, my lord. My name is Don Alonso de Tordoya, Not un-illustrious in Spain. I love A noble lady; whom going to visit, When this same westering sun was young in heav’n, I found a rival with her. I rush’d out, Bidding him follow with his sword; he follow’d; We fought, and with two passes in his side I left him dead: the cry was after us; The officers of justice at my heels. No time to lose; I leap’d upon a horse, And rode, until a shot, aim’d at his rider, Kill’d him; then, taking to my feet, fled on, Till, coming to a country house, I saw, To my great joy, my friend— Gil. Here enter I; Who, seeing Don Alonso so hard set, Offer’d my services to keep them back Till he was safe in Portugal. That country house of mine—a pleasure house Some call it, though I’ve found but little there— Stands in a narrow mountain gorge, through which He and the bloodhounds after him must pass To reach the river; as he says, he came, And saw, and fled; had scarce got fifty yards, Up comes the Sheriff with his yelling pack Panting and blowing. First most courteously I begg’d them spare themselves as well as him Further pursuit, but all in vain; push on They would; whereon I was obliged to draw; Disabled four or five, Heav’n help their souls! Till, having done as much as he to figure In justice’s black book, like him I fled After him to the river; where on finding The bridge occupied by the enemy, Catching my sword between my teeth, and him Upon my shoulders, I so dash’d in, And, at last, over; where now, thanks to Heav’n, We meet your Excellency, who vouchsafes Your shelter and protection. Adm. Twas my word, And I’ll abide by ’t. Alon. I have need Of all assurance, for the man I slew Was of great note. Adm. His name? Alon. Prefacing that he was a cavalier Of wholly noble parts and estimation, And that ’tis no disparagement to valour To be unfortunate, I may repeat it,— Don Diego d’Alvarado. Adm. Wretched man! My cousin! you have slain him! Leonor. You have slain My brother, traitor! Gil. Oh, I see my sword Must e’en be out again. Alon. Your Excellency Will pause before he draws his sword on one Surrender’d at his feet. My lord, remember I slew Don Diego in the face of day, In fair and open duel. And, beside, Is not your Excellency’s honour pledged To my security? Gil. Beside all which, I say that if all Portugal, and all Within it, admiralty and army too, Combine, you shall not touch him while I live. Adm. I know not what to do; upon one side My promise, on the other the just call Of retribution for my kinsman’s death. I must adjudge between them. Don Alonso, The word of Honour is inviolable, But not less so her universal law. So long as you stand upon ground of mine I hold your person sacred: for so far My promise holds; but set your foot beyond E’en but an inch—remember, death awaits you. And so farewell. Leonor. Nay, hold! though you have pledged Your promise— Adm. What I pledge is pledged for you, As for myself; content you. [Exeunt Admiral and Leonor. Alon. Well, friend Gil, What say you to all this? Gil. Why then, I say, At least ’tis better than it was. To-day The mouse, shut in the cupboard, there must stay: But will jump out to-morrow—if she may. [Exeunt. ACT IIScene I.—A Wood near San Lucar in Andalusia.Enter Manuel and Juana as travelling. Man. Misfortune on misfortune! Jua. Ay, they call One to another. Man. Ah, my love! That you should wander thus about with me And find no home! Gallicia, that I thought Should be our port, unkindly storm’d us out To Salvatierra, whence before the gale We drive to Andalusia. Jua. Manuel, My home is ever where you are. Man. Oh how Requite such love! but you shall rest awhile Till I and the poor fellow we pick’d up Have found fit resting-place in San Lucar. Pedro! Enter Pedro. Ped. Sir! Man. Come you with me; While you, Juana, underneath those trees— Jua. Weep your departure. [Exit Juana. Man. It shall not be long. Although her grief blindly anticipates A longer separation than she knows! Ped. Alas, and how is that? and how can you Foredoom such pain to one who loves you so? Pardon me who am but your servant, sir, And that but these two days, for saying it. Man. Ah, Pedro, ’tis not I who wills all this, But fate; that, stronger than all human will, Drove me from Portugal to Gallicia, Thence hither; where my fate still urging on, I must to sea, joining the armament That sails to plant the banner of the church Over the golden turrets of the north: Leaving my lady—not, as you surmise, Deserted and dishonour’d here behind, But in some holy house at San Lucar, With all the little substance I possess, Till I return. For to a soldier His sword is property enough. (Drums within.) Ped. And hark The drum that answers you— Man. No doubt a troop Recruiting for this war. Ped. See, they are coming. Man. I’ll take occasion by the forelock then. Pedro, go, tell the Ensign of the troop Two men would join his ranks. I’ll to Juana. [Exit. Enter Gil Perez with soldiers. Ped. This one looks affable. Pray, sir, can you courteously inform me which is the Ensign? Soldier. There—he with the red sash. Ped. What, he with the lofty presence and broad shoulders? Soldier. Ay! Gil (to the soldiers). Well then, my lads, we shall agree together very well, eh? Soldiers. Long live our noble Ensign! [Exeunt soldiers. Ped. Now’s the time! Gil (to himself). ’Fore heaven, this soldiering would be pleasant enough did not that trouble follow and plague me. Ped. Sir! Gil. Leaving Isabel at such a risk— Ped. Sir Ensign! Gil. That as fast as I gain honour here I run the chance of losing more at home. Ped. Noble Sir Ensign! Gil. One good thing, however, my good Manuel keeps guard for me. Ped. He must surely be deaf this side—I’ll try the other. Noble Ensign! Gil (turning round). Who is that? Ped. (recognising him gradually). A soldier—no, I only mean one who would be—no soldier. If I said I wish’d to be a soldier, sir, I lied. Gil. Rascal! you here? did I not warn you whenever and wherever— Ped. Oh yes, yes, but how should I ever expect to find you here a soldiering? Gil (setting upon him). I’ll teach you I am here, scoundrel, to whom I owe half my trouble. Ped. Help! murder! help! Enter Manuel. Man. A soldier set upon my servant! stop, sir! how do you dare—Gil Perez! Gil. Manuel! Man. Why, did I not leave you in Portugal? Gil. And I you at Salvatierra, engaged to me by solemn promise and old love to guard my honour there? Man. We both have cause for wonder. I will tell you all; but first we must be alone. Gil. Ay, another wonder; this fellow yours? Man. In travelling hither we found him by the way, and took him. Gil. Well, this saves your life for this time, sir: but, remember, you will not always have a friend at hand to do so much for you. Ped. I know that; I only wish you would be so gracious as to tell me where you are next bound, that I may take good care not to go thither. But I know one place at least to which you cannot follow me—my own estate—and thither I set off immediately. [Exit. Enter Alonso. Oh, Don Alonso, you are come in time. If aught that I have ever done for you Deserve return, requite me, I beseech you, By giving Manuel here the Ensigncy I must throw up. Alon. But why? Gil. I must at once To Salvatierra, where my honour lies In the utmost peril. Alon. But— Gil. I am resolved. Alon. I fain might try dissuade you, but I know Your honour will not call in vain. Enough: Be ’t as you will—on one condition. Gil. Well? Alon. That I may go with you, and share your risk, Who more than shared, and conquer’d mine. Man. Nay, sir, If any one do that it must be I, His older friend, who bringing this ill news Must see him safely through it. Alon. But ’twas I Who drew him from his home, where, till I came, He lived in peace and quiet, but where now This outrage has grown up in his forced absence. And surely, the world over, ’tis ill manners For one who, having drawn a friend from home, Lets him return alone. Man. Well, be you courteous, I’ll not be cowardly. Gil. Oh, this rivalry Proves the nobility of both! But, friends, Neither must go with me; you both are here Fled in like peril of your lives from home, And how could I avail me of your love At such a price? Nay, I may want you both In greater risks hereafter; and whom look to, If you be lost? Alon. True, but if one of us Went with you now, the other— Man. And that one Must be myself. Alon. You see, sir, one will go. Do you choose which. Man. Content. Gil. How shall I choose, When to choose one must needs the other hurt? But if it needs must be— I say that Don Alonso, so engaged In high and even holy business here, Must not forgo ’t for mine. If one will come, Let it be Manuel. Alon. I live to hear This insult from your lips! But I’ll have vengeance; Neither shall go unless you take with you Thus much at least to compensate For what you leave. These jewels may assist you Where my sword cannot. (Giving jewels.) Gil. I accept them, sir, As freely as they’re given. Come, embrace me. And now to punish an unworthy sister, And that ill traitor, from whose heart I swear My bleeding honour with this sword to tear. [Exeunt. Scene II.—Outside Gil Perez’s House at Salvatierra; as in Act I. Scene I.Enter Isabel and Casilda. Isab. What! Donna Leonor d’Alvarado, come to Salvatierra? Cas. Yes. Isab. And for what purpose? Cas. They say, to avenge her brother’s death. I myself have seen her conferring with Juan Baptista. Isab. And what do you infer from that? Cas. He is, they say, chief witness against Don Alonso and your brother, for this murder. Isab. Against my brother too! O Casilda, is it not shameful that Juan Baptista should revenge with slanders behind my brother’s back whom he dares not meet face to face! Nay, that a traitor be revenged at all on him he has betrayed! thriving here at home while my brother is banisht! Cas. But there’s something else. He charges your brother’s friend Manuel with murdering his men. Isab. In proving which, my honour must be publicly canvassed and compromised! Enter Pedro. Ped. Oh, what a long way it has seemed; as it will when fear fetters one’s legs. Oh, permit me, madam, since fate has sent me back to your feet, to kiss but the little toe, the pink, the pearl, the petty Benjamin of those ten toes. But above all, tell me, for Heaven’s sake, is my master here? Isab. No, Pedro, you at least are safe. He, alas, is far away. Ped. So one might think; but yet on the other hand I’d swear he must be here. Isab. Pedro! Ped. Oh yes, his sole vocation now is to dodge my steps like some avenging ghost of Capa and Espada. Enter Juan Baptista. Bapt. (speaking to himself). If they condemn him To death, as, on my evidence alone, They must, he’ll not return to plague me more At Salvatierra. But, fair Isabel, How blest am I on whom the star of beauty, Bright rival of the sun, Beams out such rays of love! Isab. Stand off! Away! Not rays of love, whatever heretofore I and my beauty may have beam’d, Baptista, But now, if rays at all, lightnings of rage And indignation from my heart and eyes. Approach them at your peril! What, false traitor, You come to court me with my brother’s blood Upon you, shed too in no manly duel, Face to face, hand to hand, in the open field, But like a murderer, Behind his back stabbing him dead with slander— Never! [Exit. Bapt. But, Isabel! Cas. Your day is over. [Exit. Bapt. And that I should lose her by the very means I hoped to win her with! Ped. Let not this prevent your memory acknowledging Bapt. Pedro! Ped. And at your service. Bapt. Ah, would you were! Ped. Try me. Bapt. But are you still Isabel’s servant? Ped. I trust so. Bapt. Oh, good Pedro, I would fain explain to her, and wipe out (as I easily can) the offence she has taken against me; and if you will but be my friend, and leave the door ajar to-night, that I may tell her the whole story, I’ll pay you well for it. Ped. Well, I think there can be no danger in that. Why, if you should happen to call loudly outside the door to-night, and I let you in, forgetting to ask who it is—surely I shall not be to blame. Bapt. Tis well; the sun is already setting; go you to your post, and I shall be at mine immediately. [Exeunt severally. Scene III.—A Room in Gil Perez’s House.Enter Isabel and Casilda. Isab. Casilda, now the flaming sun has set, See to the doors; and you and Ines there Sing to me—’twill beguile my melancholy. No merry song, however; something sad As my own fancies. (They sing within.) Hark! what noise is that? One calling at the door at such an hour!— Again!—Bid Pedro see— Why, what is it that makes me tremble so? From head to foot— Enter Pedro hurriedly. Ped. O madam! Isab. Well? Ped. O madam— Opening the door—only to ask—a man All muffled up ran by me——(Aside.) ’Tis all right. Enter Gil Perez, cloakt. Isab. Who’s this? Gil (discovering himself). I, Isabel. Isab. Oh heavens! Gil. Well, sister. What troubles you? Ped. Oh Lord, oh Lord, oh Lord! (Hides.) Isab. O Gil, how have you dared to venture here, Your very life at stake! Gil. Small risk to one Whom your ill doings have half kill’d already. Isab. I do not understand you— Gil. You need not: I come not to explain, but to avenge; And, mark my words, what I have come to do, I’ll do. Isab. Alas! is it my fault then, brother, That traitors of their gold can make them wings To fly into my house? Gil. Be not afraid; I shall not judge of you or any one Unheard, as others seem to judge of me. What is the matter? Isab. Nay, I only know You are accused of aiding, how I know not, In Don Diego’s death—on evidence, As ’tis believed, the Judge (who now is here, Inflamed by Donna Leonor) declares Sufficient to convict you of your life And property—Alas, alas, my brother! Gil. You shall away with me; for ’tis not well To leave you here alone and unprotected. But I must see first what this Judge has got To say against me. Isab. But how get at it? Gil. Why from the fountain-head. But, by the Lord, If I must fly or die for ’t, I’ll not do so for nothing, I’ll begin My vengeance on this rascal. (Pulling out Pedro.) Ped. Oh begin On some one else and sum up all on me! Gil. How come you here? Ped. Oh, I will tell the truth And nothing but the truth. Gil. Well! Ped. Being assured That you were coming hither— Gil. Well? Ped. I came Before. Gil. And why, when— Ped. That by doing so You should not see my face, (which you declared, Seeing again, you’d kill me,) but my back, Which as you never swore at— Gil (striking him). Villain, die! Ped. (falling as dead). Oh! I am slain! Gil. Come, Isabel ’tis I Must bear you on my shoulders through the flames That rise all round. [Exeunt Gil and Isabel. Ped. (rising). Oh, angel of sham death, How much I owe your out-spread wings to-day, Under whose shadow—Yo escaparÈ. [Exit. Scene IV.—An open Gallery in the Judge’s House at Salvatierra.Enter Judge, and attendants, with lights, etc. Judge. Here in this gallery where the air is cool Set out my desk and papers. I must examine all these depositions. 1st Attendant. Tis done, my lord. 2nd Attendant. My lord, a stranger asks Admittance—upon something, as he says, Important to the matter now in hand. Judge. Admit him, then. Gil (without). Manuel, keep the door; And, till my lord and I have had our talk, Let no one enter. Man. (without). Trust me. Enter Gil. Gil. First permit me To kiss your lordship’s hand. And secondly, Having important matter to disclose About this business, I would tell it you Alone— Judge (to attendants). Retire! [Exeunt attendants. Gil. And with your lordship’s leave Will take a chair. Judge. Sit, sir. Gil. May I presume To ask your lordship how Gallicia Agrees with you? Judge. I thank you, very well. Gil. I’m very glad of that. Humph—as I take it, Your lordship is come down into these parts On a great trial? Judge. Yes, the case is this; A certain Don Alonso de Tordoya, And one Gil Perez of this place, are charged With slaying Don Diego d’Alvarado. Gil. Slaying? Judge. In duel, sir. Gil. I marvel much They should have dragg’d your lordship from the city And from the court that you so much adorn, Into this beggarly place, to try a cause That happens almost every day in Spain. Judge. True, sir, but this is not by any means The whole, or kernel, of the case. These men, Beside, and after, the said homicide, Resisted the king’s officers; this Perez Especially—a notable ruffian Who lives among these hills a lawless life Of violence and murder—struck the Sheriff, And—but I’m scarce entitled to say more To one whose very name I know not. Gil. Oh! My name is quickly told, if that be all. Judge. What is it then? Gil. Gil Perez. Judge. Ho! without! Man. (appearing at the door). My lord! Judge. And who are you? Gil. A friend of mine. Man. Who will take care that no one else comes in, Till you have done. [Exit. Gil. Your lordship sees how ’tis— Be not alarm’d—pray take your chair again— I’ve much to say to you. Judge (aside). Better submit. This desperate man may have a score beside— Well, sir, your business with me? Gil. Why, my lord, I for these many days have been, so please you, Away from home; suddenly coming back, My friends here tell me of a mortal suit Your lordship has against me; when I ask For the particulars, some say one thing, And some another. I, who naturally Am somewhat interested in the truth, Think it the wisest course to come at once Straight to headquarters. Judge. This is strange proceeding. Gil. Oh, if your lordship scruple telling me, These papers will not. I’d not for the world Annoy your lordship. (Takes the papers.) Judge. What are you about, sir? Gil. Conning my brief. Judge. But, sir— Gil. Now pray, my lord, Resume your seat; let me not ask you this So very often. (Reading.) Ah—the bare indictment I know in a rough way, no need read that: But for the evidence. Ah, here it is. Humph; the first witness called, Andrew Ximenes: ‘Andrew Ximenes, being duly sworn, Deposeth thus: that he was cutting wood, When the two gentlemen came out to fight; And stood to watch them; that, after some passes, Don Diego fell; and the officers of justice Then coming up, the other leap’d on horse, And fled: but being brought to ground by a shot That kill’d his horse, then ran, until he reach’d Gil Perez’s house,’—here enter I,—‘who first Courteously ask’d the Sheriff to desist Hunting the gentleman; but when the Sheriff Persisted, drew on him and on his people, And fought them back; but how and when exactly The wound was given, deponent cannot say. And all this he deposeth upon oath, Andrew Ximenes—’ And he says the truth; Andrew is a good, honourable fellow. Now for the second, Gil Parrado; humph. Parrado, duly sworn, deposeth thus; ‘That, hearing a commotion, he ran out And got in time to see’—here enter I— ‘Gil Perez fighting with the officers, Then on a sudden running to the river Plunge in. And that is all he knows of it.’ How short and sweet! ‘Next and third witness, Juan Baptista,’—ay, Now for this exemplary Christian— Juan Baptista sworn, deposeth thus: ‘That, as luck fell, he was behind a tree When the two gentlemen came out to fight; That they fought fairly hand to hand, until’— Here enter I—‘Gil Perez suddenly Rush’d from a thicket by, and join’d himself With Don Alonso, and the two together Maliciously and treacherously slew Don Diego.’ Pray, my lord, what is the worth Of such a witness, who himself admits He stood behind a tree watching two men Set on a third, and slay him, and yet never Ran to his help? Well—humph—‘And after this, Saw Don Alonso jump upon a horse And fly, while Perez drew his sword upon The officers of justice, and slew one, And maim’d another.’ Give me leave, my lord, To take this leaf. (Tears it out.) I’ll bring it back to you When I have made this rascal Jew confess (If ever Jews confess) what he did see, If any thing; but fair that if a judge Decide on evidence, that evidence At least be true; that he should hear moreover Both sides, accused as well as his accuser. As to that Sheriff’s wounds—the only count To which I own—I never sought the fray; The fray sought me, as I stood innocently At my own door; and pray what man of honour— What would your lordship’s sober self have done In such a case? Judge. Within! within there! ho! Perez himself is here! the culprit! Seize him! Man (appearing). Ay, do, if you can catch him. Gil. Manuel, Let them come up; I have no more to say. And you and I, who walk’d in by the door, Can jump out of the window. Voices (within). Seize him! Seize him! Judge. One word, Gil Perez; if you yield at once, I’ll be your friend. Gil. I make no friends of lawyers, And never trust their promises. Judge. If not, As sure as Heav’n, I’ll bring you to the scaffold. Gil. If you can catch me. Judge. Cannot I? Gil. Well, try. Judge. Ho there! upon him; and if he resist, Cut him down! Man. Now then, Gil! Gil. Now, Manuel! Out with the lights! or wanting them, we two Will strike them, knaves, in plenty out of you. (Confusion and MelÉe, in which Gil and Manuel escape.) ACT IIIScene I.—On a Mountain by Salvatierra.Enter Gil Perez, Manuel, Isabel, and Juana. Gil. This mountain then, upon whose wrinkled edge The weary moon reclines, must be our fort; Where, in some green and shady spot of it, (Hung round with savage, inaccessible rocks,) While Isabel and your Juana rest, You and I, Manuel, will steal into The little village nestled there below, And of such travellers as come this way, Demand (our own all gone) a scanty living, By fair entreaty, not by violence; Until, pursuit giv’n up, we may retreat Elsewhere, to live upon what little means Injustice leaves us. Man. Gil, ’tis nothing new For criminals to hide Ev’n where they did the crime, where vengeance least Expects to find them, and hunts round in vain. And even should they light upon the place, Surely we two, back’d by these friendly rocks, Can keep at bay the rabble that we foil’d On level ground. Isab. I have listen’d to you both, And take it ill you reckon on yourselves Alone; when I, who though a woman, having yet Your blood, Gil Perez, running in my veins, And something of your spirit in my heart, Am at your side. Jua. And I, who, like a coward, Chime in at last; yet, if with little power, With right good will indeed. Gil. Well spoken both! But I maintain it as a golden law, Women be women ever; keep you quiet, And comforting yourselves as best you may, While Manuel and I, as becomes men, Provide for you in all. Isab. Well, we at least, If fit for nothing else, can pray for you. [Exeunt Isabel and Juana. Gil. Now they are gone, I want to talk with you On a grave matter, Manuel, ’Tis this. Among those depositions at the Judge’s, One rascal, and a rascal too whose gold Makes weigh his witness against honesty, Declared on oath he saw me, me, Gil Perez, Abetting Don Alonso treacherously To slay Don Diego. Man. Who was this? Gil. Why one Who has not this alone to answer for, As you will know when I name—Juan Baptista. Man. A coward, who, as all such villains do, Flies to the tongue for vengeance, not the sword; Behind one’s back too— Why, let us go at once, and in broad day Before all eyes, before the very Judge’s He lied to, drag the rascal from his house, And make him eat his words in the very place He spit them forth in. Gil. All this we will do, But at some better opportunity, And fitter place. I’ve heard my grandsire say, ‘If you begin the fray, why then You must abide the how and when; But who’s drawn into it, I trow, May suit himself with when and how.’ But footsteps! Hark!— Now to commence our calling, as new members Of the most courteous cut-purse company. Enter Leonardo, travelling. Leon. (speaking as he enters). Lead on the horses, Mendo, ’tis so pleasant Under the shadow of these wooded rocks, I’ll walk some way alone. Gil. Your servant, sir. Leon. Sir, God be with you! Gil. Travelling all alone? And whither, may I ask? Leon. To Lisbon, sir. Gil. And whence? Leon. I started at the break of day From Salvatierra. Gil. Ay? Then you can tell What news is stirring there. Leon. Oh nothing, sir. Unless perhaps the exploits of a fellow The terror of that country; one Gil Perez, I think; who, when justice was at his heels After some crime or other I forget, Wounded the Sheriff, kill’d his officer, And then was impudent enough to walk Into the very Judge’s house, and there, Before his very eyes, snatch up and read The depositions drawn up against him. Gil. A very curious story, that! Leon. And then, Though half the place was up in arms on him, He, and another who is, as I hear, Much such another rascal as himself, Broke through them all and got away scot free! But they are after him. Gil. This is the news? Leon. All that I know of. Gil. Well—before you go, I’ll ask you, sir, who by your speech and bearing Seem a good fellow, if a friend of yours Came flying for his life, the Philistines Close on his heels, and fell before your feet, At your own door, exhausted, and beseeching Help and protection of you—let me ask What would you do? Leon. What do? why, give it him. Gil. You would? and would you, in so doing, Deserve the name of rascal for your pains? Leon. No, certainly. Gil. And when a writ was out Against you for so doing, charging you With murder, threatening death and confiscation, Would you be more a rascal for demanding Such needful information of the Judge As he alone could give of evidence Which you suspected, and found false? Leon. No, truly. Gil. One question more. If, damn’d by such false witness, You were found guilty, all your property Confiscated, yourself condemn’d to die, Might not you fly the misdirected sword Of justice, and of those who well could spare Beg a poor tithe of what she robb’d you wholly, And be no rascal still? Leon. Oh clearly, clearly. Gil. This granted then, look to the inference. I am Gil Perez; I who struck the Sheriff, And kill’d his man, and read the Judge’s papers, And flying hither, shorn of house and home, Ask you for that of which the law robs me; Which, having plenty, if you will not give, By your own free admission I may take, And be no rascal still. Leon. You need not use My argument against me; I respect And pity you, Gil Perez; take this chain; If it be not enough, I pledge my word I’ll bring you more hereafter. Gil. All you say Tells of a generous heart. But ere I take Your present, tell me—do you give it me For fear, alone, and in my power, may be, Or of good will? Leon. Good will! I swear to you, Gil Perez, I would even do the same Had I a squadron at my side. Gil. As such I take it, then. For when my life must pay, As soon or late it must, the penalty Of hungry vengeance, I shall lay it down Contented in my conscience, and report That I but took from those who had to give, And freely gave; the only retribution My evil star allow’d me. Leon. True enough. Is there aught else that I can do for you? Gil. Nothing. Leon. Farewell—and may a better fate Await you. Gil. Farewell—shall I see you safe Over the mountain? Leon. Not a step—adieu. [Exit. Enter two Farmers. 1st Farm. I tell you I have bought the stock of vines Upon his farm. 2nd Farm. What, Gil’s? 1st Farm. Yes; sold, you know, To pay the costs of prosecution, Judges and Alguazils and such; and I Am carrying them the money. Man. Fair game this. Gil. I know him, a near neighbour. Well, friend Antony, How goes it with you? 1st Farm. What! Gil Perez! you! When the whole country’s after you? Gil. And if they catch me nobody’s the worse Except myself. But till they catch and kill me, (When I shall want, you know, no more to live on,) I’ve not a stiver; clipt of the estate Whose price you carry in your pocket there. Now, I’d not starve; but, on the other hand, Would not wrong any one to keep me from ’t: How shall we settle that? 1st Farm. Oh easily— Take this—and this (offers money)—I had better give it up At once, for fear. (Aside.) Gil. But do you give me this Of free good will? 1st Farm. Why as to that, Gil Perez, My will is good to serve you; but, you see, I am not very rich. Gil. You mean by that You would not give this money could you help it? 1st Farm. Why certainly. Gil. Then keep it and begone In peace. 1st Farm. Gil Perez! Gil. I’ll not have it said I robb’d—not shamed to beg in my distress. 2nd Farm. And I pray, Gil, and he who likes may hear me, God keep you from your enemies. I have here Six pieces that my wife knows nothing of; You’re welcome. Gil. Not a penny; go your ways, Or night will reach you ere you reach your homes. [Exeunt Farmers. Man. Gil, while you talk’d with them, I’ve heard a sound As of pursuit—listen!—and many too. Gil. Let us up higher then! Man. Beware, the trees Will whisper of our whereabout. Gil. Then here Behind the rocks that tell no tales. Man. Quick, quick! (They hide.) Enter Donna Leonor, Juan Baptista, Judge, Alguazils, etc. Bapt. Here, madam, till the scorching sun be sunk, Tarry awhile. Leonor. My cousin’s grievous sickness Calls me with all speed homeward. Judge. And as yet No vestige of these ruffians, whom to find And bring to justice, madam, in your cause, I’ll peril my own life. Gil. Hist, Manuel! Man. Ay, but speak lower. Gil. When better than now Can I avenge Alonso and myself, When judge, accus’d, accuser, and false witness, Are all together? Man. Wait awhile. Gil. But— Man. See, Fresh comers. Gil. I shall lose the golden moment. Enter some, dragging along Pedro. Judge. A prisoner? 1st Man. One of Gil Perez’s knaves, my lord, whom we have just now caught creeping over to Portugal. The very day Perez swam over there this fellow was missed from Salvatierra, and returned on the very evening of his return. Judge. Very suspicious indeed. Pedro. Very, my lord, I grant it. Yes, wherever I go, to Portugal, Flanders, Germany, China, Japan, ’tis all the same. I am sure to find him there. Judge. You know then where he is now? Ped. Oh, doubtless close at hand: he must be, I being here; he is such a constant master, that if you put me in prison he’ll soon surrender only to follow me there. Judge. Point out the place, then. Ped. Would to Heav’n I could, for were he clapt up safe I’d not follow him, I promise you. Indeed, my lord, I live in terror of my life from him. Flying from him it was I fled from home To Portugal; where the first man I saw Was he I thought I’d left at Salvatierra: Flying to Andalusia, the first face I saw was his I left in Portugal: Till, rushing homeward in despair, the man I thought I’d left behind in Andalusia, Met me at once, and having knockt me down, Left me for dead. Well, I got up at last, And fled again: but, scarcely got a mile, Your people seize me on suspicion Of knowing where he hides, and so far justly, That carrying me by way of a decoy, I’ll lay my life he soon were in the trap. Judge. Your folly, or your cunning, sir, shall not mislead us; tell me where your master is at once, or the wooden horse— Ped. Alas, I’m a bad rider. Judge. Take him to the village and keep him close. By his looks I doubt not, spite of this affected simplicity, he’s a desperate ruffian. Ped. I seem such a desperate fellow to him. Dear me, of the four men here let one depart, and leave three, and one of the three leave two, and one of the two one; and that one leave half himself; and that half his half; and that quarter his half, till it comes to nil: it would still be nilly willy with me. [Exit, guarded by Alguazils. Gil. Manuel, The Alguazils are gone. Man. Now for it then. Gil (appearing). God save this noble company! All. Gil Perez! Gil. Be not alarm’d; I have but a few words To say to one of you, this Juan Baptista. Judge. Holloa! my guards! Man. Judge, never strain your throat, Unless you would be answer’d by such guards As waited on you yesterday. Judge. Is this the way that I, and, in my person, That justice is insulted? Gil. Nay, my lord, You least of all should tax a criminal Who so punctiliously respects yourself, And the realm’s Justice in your belly lodged, That not to waste you in a vain pursuit, He waits on you himself. Judge. Impudent man! And this before that most illustrious lady Your treachery has render’d brotherless; And who with daily prayers— Gil. And ’tis for this— That she may hear my vindication Ev’n from the very lips that made the charge, And cease an unjust persecution, Unworthy of her noble name and blood, That I am here. For, madam, if I prove That Don Alonso in fair duel slew Your brother, and without my treacherous help, Or any man’s, would you pursue us still? Leonor. No, sir; for though the laws of duel are For men alone, I know enough of them To pardon all that was in honour done, Ev’n to my cost. Prove what you say you will, And Don Alonso may take sanctuary In my own house against myself and all. Gil. ’Tis nobly said. On this I take my stand: And since ’tis general and accepted law That what a witness first shall swear, and then Forswear, stand for no evidence at all, Stand forth, Juan Baptista; Here is your deposition; I will read it Before the very Judge you swore it to, And before this great lady, and do you Substantiate or deny it point by point. Judge. Audacity! Gil (reading). In the first place you swear, That, ‘As luck fell, you were behind a tree When the two gentlemen came out to fight.’ Say, is this true? Bapt. It is. Gil. ‘And that they fought Hand to hand fairly, until suddenly Gil Perez, rushing from a thicket, sided With Don Alonso.’ Now, bethink you well; Is this the truth, Baptista? Bapt. Yes. I swear it. Gil. Infamous liar! (Shoots him with a pistol.) Bapt (falling). Heav’n have mercy on me! Gil. My lord, you must another murder add To my black catalogue. Come, Manuel, We must away while we have time. Farewell. [Exeunt Gil and Manuel. Judge. By the most sacred person of my king, I swear to punish this audacity, If it should cost my life. Bapt. Oh, listen, lady; While I have breath to speak. I’m justly slain. I tried to swear Gil Perez’s life away To gain his sister; he has told you true: In fair and open duel, hand to hand, Was Don Diego slain. Oh let my death Atone for this, and my last dying words Attest it. (Dies.) Enter the Alguazils with Pedro. Alg. We heard a pistol, and returned, my lord, to see. Judge. It was Gil Perez; that is his work. (Pointing to Baptista.) Ped. There, said I not the truth? Judge. He must not escape; after him! As to Ped. What crime have I committed? Did I not tell you, my lord, he would come, and did he not come? Judge. Peace, traitor! Come, madam. [Exeunt. Scene II.—Another Pass in the same Mountain.Firing and shouting heard; after which, enter Isabel and Juana on a platform of rock above the stage. Isab. That arquebuss! of which only the thunder Has reach’d us of perhaps some deadly bolt On one of those we love! Why tarry they so long? What think you, Juana? Jua. Oh what, but share your fears! Isab. Let us descend, And learn the truth at once; better at once To die, than by this torture. (As they are about to descend, enter to them suddenly Gil Perez and Manuel.) Gil. Wait! Isab. My brother! Jua. Manuel! Gil. They are coming; hide we here; There is no time— Enter Judge, Leonor, Alguazils, etc. Judge. After them! after them! By Heav’n, this mountain-top shall be the scaffold On which the wretch shall expiate his crimes. Two thousand scudi for the man who brings, Dead or alive, Gil Perez! Gil (appearing above). By the Lord, You rate me cheap, my lord; I’ll set you higher— I say four thousand scudi for the Judge, Alive or stuff’d! Judge. There he is! Fire! (Alguazil fires and wounds Gil.) Gil (falling). God help me! Judge. Yield. Gil (struggling). I’ve an arm left yet. Alg. He’ll fight when dead. Judge. Away with him! (Judge and Alguazils carry off Gil.) Man. (struggling with Juana). Leave hold of me, I say. Jua. Oh! Manuel! Isab. Oh! my brother! Man. Let me go, Or I will dash you headlong with myself. (He rushes down, Isabel and Juana after him.) Scene III.—Same as Scene I.Pedro discovered guarded by two Alguazils. Ped. Shots and shouting! They must be at work. Perhaps you gentlemen will wait, while I go and see. Alg. Be quiet, or two bullets— Ped. Oh, one would be enough, thank you. Well, if I mustn’t go, will you two gentlemen? and leave me to wait for you? I’m quite indifferent. Alg. We leave you not an instant or an inch. Ped. Were ever guards half so polite! Sure, I must be a holiday to be so strictly kept. Alg. Hark! They are coming. Enter Judge and Alguazils with Gil, a cloak thrown over him. Judge. Where is the other prisoner? Alg. Here, my lord. Judge. March on with us. Alg. 2. My lord, this man will faint with loss of blood and weariness. Judge. Halt then, and let him breathe awhile. (They uncover Gil, and Pedro sees him.) Ped. I might have guessed it! Let me be in the bilboes, on the very scaffold, he must be with me: he will die on purpose to lie in the same grave with me, I think! Gil. Whose voice is that? Ped. Nobody’s. Gil. Pedro? Courage, my poor boy. My day is over. Oh, vanity of mortal strength! Judge. But who are these? Enter Donna Leonor, with Isabel, Juana, and Servants. Leonor. I, Donna Leonor, who, falling in With these sad ladies, do repent me much, That, misdirected by a lying tongue, I have pursued this gentleman—I doubt To death—if not, I charge you from this moment Leave him at liberty. Isab. Or else— Enter suddenly Manuel and Don Alonso, and Followers. Alon. Or else, Look to it. Gil. Don Alonso! whom I thought Far off upon the seas? Alon. And should have been, But when my foot was on the very plank That rock’d upon the foam along the beach, I, who could never get you from my heart, And knew that you had come to peril hither, Could but return once more to him who saved My life, though he had waved me from his side. Enough; I am in time. I tell you, sir, Give up this man at once. (To the Judge.) Judge. Not for you all! Alon. Then at him and his people! (Alonzo, Manuel, and their people rush on the Judge, Alguazils, etc., disarm them, and beat them out.) Alon. (embracing Gil). My friend is free. Gil. And what first use shall make Of freedom? Ped. Why, turn Friar; you can then Be free and easy too, and leave me so. Oh, sir, have I not had enough of terror, Exile, and hunger, to deserve your pardon? Plead for me, Don Alonso. Alon. Gil— Gil. Nay, nay, What could you seem about to ask of me But granted ere ’twas said? Go. I forgive you. With which magnanimous forbearance now Gil Perez, the Gallician, makes his bow. [Exeunt. ‘Thus ends,’ says Calderon, ‘the first part of the hozanas notables of Luis Perez,’ whose name I have, for sundry reasons, (and without offence to the hero, I hope,) changed to Gil. He was ‘a notorious robber,’ says Mr. Ticknor, a kind of Spanish Rob Roy perhaps; at all events, one whose historical reality is intimated by greater distinctness of character than is usual in these plays. Of such gentry examples are never wanting in Spain, where so little alters to this day; witness the career of the famous JosÉ Maria, quite lately ended; who, I read in a book of Travels, was, like Gil, a farmer, for his first calling; a most merciful robber when he took to his second; and who performed Gil’s feat of confronting, if not a Judge, a Prime Minister in his own den. Gil perhaps had better have ‘played his pranks’ (as Fuller says of Robin Hood) in prose; but he was a lawless fellow, and blank verse lay in his way. Those who think his style altogether too heroic for a country robber, will at least find my version more than excused by the original. | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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