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The Works of John Dryden, Vol. II by Edited by Walter Scott

Part 4 out of 10

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To tell you of it.

_Man_. You o'erjoy me.

_Serv_. This, sir, is he.

_Enter_ GONSALVO. DON MANUEL _is running to
embrace him, and stops_.

_Man_.--The captain of the robbers!

_Gons_. As such, indeed, you promised me your

_Man_. I promised all the interest I should have;
Because I thought, before you came to claim it,
A husband's right would take my title from me.

_Gons_. I come to see if any manly virtue
Can dwell with falsehood: Draw, thou'st injured me.

_Man_. You say already I have done you wrong,
And yet would have me right you by a greater.

_Gons_. Poor abject thing!

_Man_. Who doubts another's courage
Wants it himself; but I, who know my own,
Will not receive a law from you to fight,
Or to forbear: for then I grant your courage
To master mine, when I am forced to do
What of myself I would not.

_Gons_. Your reason?

_Man_. You saved my life.

_Gons_. I'll quit that debt, to be
In a capacity of forcing you
To keep your promise with me; for I come
To learn, your sister is not yet disposed.

_Man_. I've lost all privilege to defend my life;
And, if you take it now, 'tis no new conquest;
Like fish, first taken in a river, then
Bestowed in ponds to catch a second time.

_Gons_. Mark but how partially you plead your
Pretending breach of honour if you fight,
Yet think it none to violate your word.

_Man_. I cannot give my sister to a robber.

_Gons_. You shall not; I am none, but born of blood
As noble as yourself; my fortunes equal
At least with yours, my reputation yet,
I think, unstained.

_Man_. I wish, sir, it may prove so;
I never had so strong an inclination
To believe any man as you--But yet--

_Gons_. All things shall be so clear, there shall be left
No room for any scruple. I was born
In Seville, of the best house in that city;
My name Gonsalvo de Peralta: Being
A younger brother, 'twas my uncle's care
To take me with him in a voyage to
The Indies, where since dying, he has left me
A fortune not contemptible; returning
From thence with all my wealth in the plate fleet,
A furious storm almost within the port
Of Seville took us, scattered all the navy.
My ship, by the unruly tempest borne
Quite through the Streights, as far as Barcelona,
There first cast anchor; there I stept ashore:
Three days I staid, in which small time I made
A little love, which vanished as it came.

_Man_. But were you not engaged to her you

_Gons_. Upon my honour, no; what might have been
I cannot tell: But ere I could repair
My beaten ship, or take fresh water in,
One night, when there by chance I lay aboard,
A wind tore up my anchor from the bottom,
And with that violence it brought me thither,
Has thrown me in this port.

_Mon_. But yet our meeting in the wood was

_Gons_. For that I'll satisfy you as we walk.


_Hip_. O sir, how glad am I to find you!--


_Man_. That boy I have seen somewhere, or one
like him,
But where, I cannot call to mind.

_Hip_. I found it out, and got before them--
And here they are--

_Enter AMIDEO and JULIA_.

_Man_. My sister! as I could have wished it.

_Amid_. O! we are caught!

_Jul_. I did expect as much:
Fortune has not forgot that I am Julia.

_Man_. Sister, I'm glad you're happily returned;
'Twas kindly done of you thus to prevent
The trouble of my search.

_Jul_. I would not have you
Mistake my love to Roderick so much,
To think I meant to fall into your hands.
My purpose is for the next nunnery;
There I'll pray for you: So farewell.

_Man_. Stay, Julia, you must go with me.

_Jul_. Lead, lead;
You think I am your prisoner now.

_Gons_. If you will needs to a religious house,
Leave that fair face behind; a worse will serve
To spoil with watching, and with fasting there.

_Man_. Pr'ythee, no more of this; the only way
To make her happy is to force it on her.
Julia, prepare yourself strait to be married.

_Jul_. To whom?

_Man_. You see your bridegroom: And you know
My father's will, who, with his dying breath
Commanded, you should pay as strict obedience
To me, as formerly to him: If not,
Your dowry is at my dispose.

_Jul_. O, would
The loss of that dispense with duty in me,
How gladly would I suffer it! and yet,
If I durst question it, methinks 'tis hard!
What right have parents over children, more
Than birds have o'er their young? yet they impose
No rich-plumed mistress on their feathered sons;
But leave their love, more open yet and free
Than all the fields of air, their spacious birthright.

[_GONSALVO seems to beg MANUEL
not to be harsh_.

_Man_. Nay, good Gonsalvo, trouble not yourself,
There is no other way; when 'tis once done,
She'll thank me for't.

_Jul_. I ne'er expected other usage from you;
A kind brother you have been to me,
And to my sister: You have sent, they say,
To Barcelona, that my aunt should force her
To marry the old Don you brought her.

_Hip_. Who could, that once had seen Gonsalvo's.
Alas, she little thinks I am so near! [_Aside_.

_Man_. Mind not what she says.
A word with you--[_To GONSALVO._

_Amid_. Don Manuel eyes me strangely; the best is,
he never saw me yet but at a distance:
My brother's jealousy (who ne'er intended
I should be his) restrained our nearer converse. [_Aside_.

_Jul_. My pretty youth, I am enforced to trust thee
With my most near concerns; friends I have none,
If thou deny'st to help me.

_Amid_. Any thing
To break your marriage with my master.

_Jul_. Go to Roderick, and tell him my condition:
But tell it him as from thyself, not me.

_Amid_. That you are forced to marry?

_Jul_. But do not ask him
To succour me; if of himself he will not,
I scorn a love that must be taught its duty.

_Man_. What youth is that? I mean the little one.

_Gons_. I took him up last night.

_Man_. A sweet-faced boy,
I like him strangely: Would you part with him?

_Amid_. Alas, sir, I am good for nobody,
But for my master.

_Hip_. Sir, I'll do your errand
Another time, for letting Julia go. [_To AMIDEO_.

_Man_. Come, sir.

_Gons_. I beg your pardon for a moment,
I'll but dispatch some business in my ship,
And wait you presently:

_Man_. We'll go before;
I'll make sure Roderick shall never have her;
And 'tis at least some pleasure to destroy
His happiness, who mined first my joy.

[_Exeunt all but GONSALVO; who, before he goes, whispers HIPPOLITO_.

_Gons_. Against her will fair Julia to possess,
Is not to enjoy, but ravish happiness:
Yet women pardon force, because they find
The violence of love is still most kind:
Just like the plots of well built comedies,
Which then please most, when most they do surprise:
But yet constraint love's noblest end destroys,
Whose highest joy is in another's joys:
Where passion rules, how weak does reason prove!
I yield my cause, but cannot yield my love. [_Exit_.


SCENE I.--_A great room in DON MANUEL'S house_.

_HIPPOLITO solus_.

My master bid me speak for him to Julia:
Hard fate, that I am made a confident
Against myself!
Yet, though unwillingly I took the office,
I would perform it well: But how can I
Prove lucky to his love, who to my own
Am so unfortunate? he trusts his passion
Like him, that ventures all his stock at once
On an unlucky hand.

_Enter AMIDEO_.

_Amid_. Where is the lady Julia?

_Hip_. What new treason
Against my master's love have you contrived
With her?

_Amid_. I shall not render you account.

_Enter JULIA_.

_Jul_. I sent for him; yet if he comes, there's danger;
Yet if he does not, I for ever lose him.
What can I wish? and yet I wish him here,
Only to take the care of me from me.
Weary with sitting out a losing hand,
Twill be some ease to see another play it.
Yesterday I refused to marry him,
To-day I run into his arms unasked;
Like a mild prince encroached upon by rebels,
Love yielded much, till honour asked for all.
How now, where's Roderick? [_Sees AMIDEO_.
I mean Gonsalvo. [_Sees HIPPOLITO_.

_Hip_. You would do well to meet him--

_Amid_. Meet him! you shall not do't: I'll throw myself,
Like a young fawning spaniel, in your way
So often, you shall never move a step,
But you shall tread on me.

_Jul_. You need not beg me:
I would as soon meet a syren, as see him.

_Hip_. His sweetness for those frowns no subject finds:
Seas are the field of combat for the winds:
But when they sweep along some flowery coast,
Their wings move mildly, and their rage is lost.

_Jul_. 'Tis that which makes me more unfortunate;
Because his sweetness must upbraid my hate.
The wounds of fortune touch me not so near;
I can my fate, but not his virtue, bear.
For my disdain with my esteem is raised;
He most is hated when he most is praised:
Such an esteem, as like a storm appears,
Which rises but to shipwreck what it bears.

_Hip_. Infection dwells upon my kindness, sure,
Since it destroys even those whom it would cure.

[_Cries, and exit_.

_Amid_. Still weep, Hippolito; to me thy tears
Are sovereign, as those drops the balm-tree sweats.--
But, madam, are you sure you shall not love him?
I still fear.--

_Jul_. Thy fear will never let thee be a man.

_Amid_. Indeed I think it won't.

_Jul_. We are now
Alone; what news from Roderick?

_Amid_. Madam, he begs you not to fear; he has
A way, which, when you think all desperate,
Will set you free.

_Jul_. If not, I will not live
A moment after it.

_Amid_. Why? there's some comfort.

_Jul_. I strongly wish, for what I faintly hope:
Like the day-dreams of melancholy men,
I think and think on things impossible,
Yet love to wander in that golden maze.

_Enter DON MANUEL, HIPPOLITO, and company_.

_Amid_. Madam, your brother's here.

_Man_. Where is the bridegroom?

_Hip_. Not yet returned, sir, from his ship.

_Man_. Sister, all this good company is met,
To give you joy.

_Jul_. While I am compassed round
With mirth, my soul lies hid in shades of grief,
Whence, like the bird of night, with half shut eyes,
She peeps, and sickens at the sight of day. [_Aside_.

_Enter Servant_.

_Serv_. Sir, some gentlemen and ladies are without,
Who, to do honour to this wedding, come
To present a masque.

_Man_. Tis well; desire them
They would leave put the words, and fall to dancing.
The poetry of the foot takes most of late.

_Serv_. The poet, sir, will take that very ill;
He's at the door, with the argument o'the masque
In verse.

_Man_. Which of the wits is it that made it?

_Serv_. None of the wits, sir; 'tis one of the poets.

_Man_. What subject has he chose?

_Serv_. The rape of Proserpine.


_Man_. Welcome, welcome, you have been long

_Gons_. I staid to see the unlading of some rarities,
Which are within--
Madam, your pardon that I was so long absent.

_Jul_. You need not ask it for your absence, sir.

_Gons_. Still cruel, Julia?

_Jul_. The danger's here, and Roderick not here:
I am not grieved to die; but I am grieved
To think him false. [_Aside_.

_Man_. Bid him begin. [_The music plays_.

A _Cupid_ descends in swift motion, and speaks
these verses.

_Cup_. _Thy conquests, Proserpine, have stretched too far;
Amidst heavens peace thy beauty makes a war:
For when, last night, I to Jove's palace went,
(The brightest part of all the firmament)
Instead of all those gods, whose thick resort
Filled up the presence of the thunderers court;
There Jove and Juno all forsaken sate,
Pensive, like kings in their declining state:
Yet (wanting power) they would preserve the show,
By hearing prayers from some few men below:
Mortals to Jove may their devotions pay;
The gods themselves to Proserpine do pray.
To Sicily the rival powers resort;
'Tis Heaven wherever Ceres keeps her court.
Phoebus and Mercury are both at strife,
The courtliest of our gods who want a wife.
But Venus, whate'er kindness she pretends,
Yet (like all females envious of their friends),
Has, by my aid, contrived a black design,
The god of hell should ravish Proserpine:
Beauties, beware; Venus will never bear
Another Venus shining in her sphere_.

After Cupid's speech, Venus and Ceres descend in the slow machines;
Ceres drawn by dragons, Venus by swans.

After them Phoebus and Mercury descend in swift motion. Then Cupid
turns to Julia, and speaks.

_Cup_. _The rival deities are come to woo
A Proserpine, who must be found below:
Would you, fair nymph, become, this happy hour,
In name a goddess, as you are in power?
Then to this change the king of shades will owe
A fairer Proserpine than heaven can show_.

[_Julia, first whispered by AMIDEO, goes into the dance, performed
by Cupid, Phoebus, Mercury, Ceres, Venus, and JULIA. Towards the end
of the dance, RODORICK, in the habit of Pluto, rises from below in
a black chariot, all flaming, and drawn by black horses; he ravishes
Julia, who personated Proserpine, and as he is carrying her away, his
vizard fails off: HIPPOLITO first discovers him_.

_Hip_. A rape, a rape! 'tis Roderick, 'tis Roderick!

_Rod_. Then I must have recourse to this. [_Draws_.

_Jul_. O heavens!

[_DON MANUEL and GONSALVO draw, and a Servant; the two that acted
Phoebus and Mercury return to assist RODORICK, and are beat back by
MANUEL and a Servant, while GONSALVO attacks RODORICK_.

_Gons_. Unloose thy hold, foul villain.

_Rod_. No, I'll grasp her
Even after death.

_Jul_. Spare him, or I'll die with him.

_Gons_. Must ravishers and villains live, while I
In vain implore her mercy?

[_Thrusts at him, and hurts JULIA in the arm_.

_Jul_. Oh, I am murdered!

_Gons_. Wretched that I am,
What have I done? To what strange punishment
Will you condemn this guilty hand? And yet
My eyes were guilty first--For they could look
On nothing else but you; and my unlucky hand
Too closely followed them!--

_Enter MANUEL again_.

_Man_. The powers above are just, that thou still livest,
For me to kill.

_Rod_. You'll find no easy task on't
Alone; come both together, I defy you!
Curse on this disguise, that has betrayed me
Thus cheaply to my death.--

_Man_. Under a devil's shape, thou could'st not be

_Jul_. Then, must he die?--
Yet, I'll not bid my Roderick farewell;
For they take leave, who mean to be long absent.

_Gons_. Hold, sir! I have had blood enough already;
And must not murder Julia again
In him she loves. Live, sir; and thank this lady.

_Rod_. Take my life, and spare my thanks.

_Man_. Though you
Forgive him, let me take my just revenge.

_Gons_. Leave that distinction to our dull divines:
That ill, I suffer to be done, I do.

_Hip_. My heart bleeds for him: to see his virtue
O'ercome so fatally, against such odds
Of fortune, and of love!--

_Man_. Permit his death, and Julia will be yours.

_Jul_. Permit it not, and Julia will thank you.

_Gons_. Who e'er could think, that one kind word from Julia
Should be preferred to Julia herself?
Could any man think it a greater good
To save a rival, than possess a mistress?
Yet this I do! these are thy riddles, love!--
What fortune gives me, I myself destroy;
And feed my virtue, but to starve my joy.
Honour sits on me like some heavy armour,
And with its stiff defence, encumbers me;
And yet, when I would put it off, it sticks
Like Hercules's shirt; heats me at once;
And poisons me!

_Man_. I find myself grow calm by thy example;
My panting heart heaves less and less, each pulse;
And all the boiling spirits scatter from it.
Since thou desirest he should not die, he shall not,
'Till I on nobler terms can take his life.

_Rod_. The next turn may be yours.--Remember,
I owed this danger to your wilfulness:
Once, you might easily have been mine, and would
not. [_Exit_ RODORICK.

_Man_. Lead out my sister, friend; her hurt's so
'Twill scarce disturb the ceremony.
Ladies, once more your pardons.

[_Leads out the Company. Exeunt_.

_offers his hand,_ JULIA _pulls back hers_.

_Jul_. This hand would rise in blisters, should'st
thou touch it!--
My Roderick's displeased with me, and thou,
Unlucky man, the cause. Dare not so much
As once to follow me. [_Exit_ JULIA.

_Gons_. Not follow her! Alas, she need not bid me!
Oh, how could I presume to take that hand,
To which mine proved so fatal!
Nay, if I might, should I not fear to touch it?--
murderer's touch would make it bleed afresh!

_Amid_. I think, sir, I could kill her for your sake.

_Gons_. Repent that word, or I shall hate thee
Harsh words from her, like blows from angry kings,
Though they are meant affronts, are construed favours.

_Hip_. Her inclinations and aversions
Are both alike unjust; and both, I hope,
Too violent to last: Chear up yourself;
for if I live, (I hope I shall not long) [_Aside_.
She shall be yours.

_Amid_. 'Twere much more noble in him,
To make a conquest of himself, than her.
She ne'er can merit him; and, hadst not thou
A mean low soul, thou wouldst not name her to him.

_Hip_. Poor child, who would'st be wise above thy years!
Why dost thou talk, like a philosopher,
Of conquering love, who art not yet grown up,
To try the force of any manly passion?
The sweetness of thy mother's milk is yet
Within thy veins, not soured and turned by love.

_Gons_. Thou hast not field enough in thy young breast,
To entertain such storms to struggle in.

_Amid_. Young as I am, I know the power of love;
Its less disquiets, and its greater cares,
And all that's in it, but the happiness.
Trust a boy's word, sir, if you please, and take
My innocence for wisdom; Leave this lady;
Cease to persuade yourself you are in love,
And you will soon be freed. Not that I wish
A thing, so noble as your passion, lost
To all the sex: Bestow it on some other;
You'll find many as fair, though none so cruel.--
Would I could be a lady for your sake!

_Hip_. If I could be a woman, with a wish,
You should not be without a rival long.

_Amid_. A cedar, of your stature, would not cause
Much jealousy.

_Hip_. More than a shrub of yours.

_Gons_. How eagerly these boys fall out for nothing!--
Tell me, Hippolito, wert thou a woman,
Who would'st thou be?

_Hip_. I would be Julia, sir,
Because you love her.

_Amid_. I would not be she,
Because she loves not you.
_Hip_. True, Amideo;
And, therefore, I would wish myself a lady,
Who, I am sure, does infinitely love him.

_Amid_. I hope that lady has a name?

_Hip_. She has:
And she is called Honoria, sister to
This Julia, and bred up at Barcelona;
Who loves him with a flame so pure and noble,
That, did she know his love to Julia,
She would beg Julia to make him happy.

_Gons_. This startles me!

_Amid_. Oh, sir, believe him not:
They love not truly, who, on any terms,
Can part with what they love.

_Gons_. I saw a lady
At Barcelona, of what name I know not,
Who, next to Julia, was the fairest creature
My eyes did e'er behold: But, how camest thou
To know her?

_Hip_. Sir, some other time I'll tell you.

_Amid_. It could not be Honoria, whom you saw;
For, sir, she has a face so very ugly,
That, if she were a saint for holiness,
Yet no man would seek virtue there.

_Hip_. This is the lyingest boy, sir;--I am sure
He never saw Honoria; for her face,
'Tis not so bad to frighten any man--
None of the wits have libelled it.

_Amid_. Don Roderick's sister, Angelina, does
So far exceed her, in the ornaments
Of wit and beauty, though now hid from sight,
That, like the sun, (even when eclipsed) she casts
A yellowness upon all other faces.

_Hip_. I'll not say much of her, but only this,
Don Manuel saw not with my eyes, if e'er
He loved that Flanders shape; that lump of earth,
And phlegm together.

_Amid_. You have often seen her,
It seems, by your description of her person:
But I'll maintain on any Spanish ground,
Whate'er she be, yet she is far more worthy
To have my lord her servant, than Honoria.

_Hip_. And I'll maintain Honoria's right against her,
In any part of all the world.

_Gons_. You go
Too far, to quarrel on so slight a ground.

_Hip_. O pardon me, my lord, it is not slight:
I must confess, I am so much concerned,
I shall not bear it long.

_Amid_. Nor I, assure you.

_Gons_. I will believe what both of you have said,
That Honoria, and Angelina,
Both equally are fair.

_Amid_. Why did you name
Honoria first?

_Gons_. And, since you take their parts so eagerly
Henceforth I'll call you by those ladies' names:
You, my Hippolito, shall be Honoria;
And you, my Amideo, Angelina.

_Amid_. Then all my services, I wish, may make
You kind to Angelina, for my sake.

_Hip_. Put all my merits on Honoria's score,
And think no maid could ever love you more.



MANUEL _solus_.

_Man_. Thus I provide for others' happiness,
And lose my own. 'Tis true, I cannot blame
Thy hatred, Angelina, but thy silence.
Thy brother's hatred made thine just; but yet
'Twas cruel in thee not to tell me so.
Conquest is noble, when an heart stands out;
But mine, which yielded, how could'st thou betray?
That heart, of which thou could'st not be deprived
By any force or power, beside thy own;
Like empires, to that fatal height arrived,
They must be ruined by themselves alone.
My guarded freedom cannot be a prize
To any scornful face a second time;
For thy idea, like a ghost, would rise,
And fright my thoughts from such another crime.

_Enter a Servant, with a letter_.

_Man_. From whom?

_Serv_. Sir, the contents will soon resolve you.

[_He read_.

_Man_. Tell Roderick, he has prevented me
In my design of sending to him first.
I'll meet him, single, at the time and place;
But, for my friend, tell him, he must excuse me:
I'll hazard no man in my quarrel, but
Myself alone.--[_Exit Servant_.
Who's within there?

_Enter a Servant_.

Go, call my sister, and Gonsalvo, hither.
[_Exit Servant_.
'Twas pushed so far, that, like two armies, we
Were drawn so closely up, we could not part
Without engagement.--But they must not know it.


I have some business calls me hence, and know not
When I shall return: But, ere I go,
That power I have, by my dead father's will,
Over my sister, I bequeath to you: [_To GONS_.
She, and her fortunes, both be firmly yours;
And this when I revoke, let cowardice
Blast all my youth, and treason taint my age.

_Gons_. Sir--

_Man_. Nay, good, no thanks; I cannot stay--
[_Exit MANUEL_.

_Gons_. There's something more than ordinary in this;
Go, Amideo, quickly follow him,
And bring me word which way he takes.

_Amid_. I go, sir. [_Exit AMID. JULIA kneels_.

_Gons_. Madam, when you implore the powers divine,
You have no prayers in which I will not join,
Though made against myself. [_Kneels with her_.

_Jul_. In vain I sue,
Unless my vows may be conveyed by you.

_Gons_. Conveyed by me! My ill success in love
Shews me, too sure, I have few friends above.
How can you fear your just desires to want?
When the gods pray, they both request and grant.

_Jul_. Heaven has resigned my fortune to your hand,
If you, like heaven, the afflicted understand.

_Gons_. The language of the afflicted is not new;
Too well I learned it, when I first saw you.

_Jul_. In spite of me, you now command my fate;
And yet the vanquished seeks the victor's hate;
Even in this low submission, I declare,
That, had I power, I would renew the war.
I'm forced to stoop, and 'twere too great a blow
To bend my pride, and to deny me too.

_Gons_. You have my heart; dispose it to your will;
If not, you know the way to use it ill.

_Jul_. Cruel to me, though kind to your desert,
My brother gives my person, not my heart;
And I have left no other means to sue,
But to you only, to be freed from you.

_Gons_. From such a suit how can you hope success,
Which, given, destroys the giver's happiness?

_Jul_. You think it equal you should not resign
That power you have, yet will not leave me mine;
Yet on my will I have the power alone,
And, since you cannot move it, move your own.
Your worth and virtue my esteem may win,
But women's passions from themselves begin;
Merit may be, but force still is, in vain.

_Gons_. I would but love you, not your love constrain;
And though your brother left me to command,
He placed his thunder in a gentle hand.

_Jul_. Your favour from constraint has set me free,
But that secures not my felicity;
Slaves, who, before, did cruel masters serve,
May fly to deserts, and in freedom starve.
The noblest part of liberty they lose,
Who can but shun, and want the power to chuse.

_Gons_. O whither would your fatal reasons move!
You court my kindness, to destroy my love.

_Jul_. You have the power to make my happiness,
By giving that, which you can ne'er possess.

_Gons_. Give you to Roderick? there wanted yet
That curse, to make my miseries complete.

_Jul_. Departing misers bear a nobler mind;
They, when they can enjoy no more, are kind;
You, when your love is dying in despair,
Yet want the charity to make an heir.

_Gons_. Though hope be dying, yet it is not dead;
And dying people with small food are fed.

_Jul_. The greatest kindness dying friends can have,
Is to dispatch them, when we cannot save.

_Gons_. Those dying people, could they speak' at all,
That pity of their friends would murder call:
For men with horror dissolution meet;
The minutes even of painful life are sweet.

_Jul_. But I'm by powerful inclination led;
And streams turn seldom to their fountain head.

_Gons_. No; 'tis a tide which carries you away;
And tides may turn, though they can never stay.

_Jul_. Can you pretend to love, and see my grief
Caused by yourself, yet give me no relief?

_Gons_. Where's my reward?

_Jul_. The honour of the flame.

_Gons_. I lose the substance, then, to gain the name.

_Jul_. I do too much mistress' power betray;
Must slaves be won by courtship to obey?
Thy disobedience does to treason rise,
Which thou, like rebels, would'st with love disguise.
I'll kill myself, and, if thou can'st deny
To see me happy, thou shalt see me die.

_Gons_. O stay! I can with less regret bequeath
My love to Roderick, than you to death:
And yet--

_Jul_. What new objection can you find?

_Gons_. But are you sure you never shall be kind?

_Jul_. Never.

_Gons_. What! never?

_Jul_. Never to remove.

_Gons_. Oh fatal never to souls damned in love!

_Jul_. Lead me to Roderick.

_Gons_. If it must be so--

_Jul_. Here, take my hand, swear on it thou wilt go.

_Gons_. Oh balmy sweetness! but 'tis lost to me,
[_He kisses her hand_.
Like food upon a wretch condemned to die:
Another, and I vow to go:--Once more;
If I swear often, I shall be foreswore.
Others against their wills may haste their fate;
I only toil to be unfortunate:
More my own foe than all my stars could prove;
They give her person, but I give her love.
I must not trust myself--Hippolito!


_Hip_. My lord!

_Gons_. Quickly go find Don Roderick out:
Tell him, the lady Julia will be walking
On the broad rock, that lies beside the port,
And there expects to see him instantly.
In the mean time I'll call for Amideo.

_Jul_. You'll keep your promise to Don Roderick?

_Gons_. Madam, since you bring death, I welcome it;
But to his fortune, not his love, submit.

_Hip_. I dare not ask what I too fain would hear:
But, like a tender mother, hope and fear,
My equal twins, my equal care I make,
And keep hope quiet, lest that fear should wake.
[_Aside. Exit_ HIPPOLITO.

_Jul_. So, now I'm firmly at my own dispose;
And all the lets, my virtue caused, removed:
Now, Roderick, I come--

_Enter_ GONSALVO _again_.

_Gons_. Madam, my boy's not yet returned.

_Jul_. No matter, we'll not stay for him.

_Gon_. Pray make not too much haste.

[_Exeunt JUL. and GONS_.


_Enter DON RODORICK, and a Servant_.

_Rod_. Have you bespoke a vessel, as I bid you?

_Serv_. I have done better; for I have employed
Some, whom I know, this day to seize a ship;
Which they have done, clapping the men within her
All under hatches, with such speed and silence,
That, though she rides at anchor in the port
Among the rest, the change is not discovered.

_Rod_. Let my best goods and jewels be embarked
With secrecy: We'll put to sea this night.
Have you yet found my sister, or her woman?

_Serv_. Neither, sir; but in all probability
She is with Manuel.

_Rod_. Would God the meanest man in Alicant
Had Angelina, rather than Don Manuel!
I never can forgive, much less forget,
How he (the younger soldier) was preferred
To that command of horse, which was my due.

_Serv_. And, after that, by force disseized you of
Your quarters--

_Rod_. Should I meet him seven years hence
At the altar, I would kill him there:--I had
Forgot to tell you, the design we had,
To carry Julia by force away,
Will now be needless: she'll come to the rock
To see me; you, unseen, shall stand behind,
And carry her into the vessel.

_Serv_. Shall I not help you to dispatch Don Manuel?

_Rod_. I neither doubt my valour nor my fortune:
But if I die, revenge me: Presently
About your business; I must to the rock,
For fear I come too late. [_Exeunt severally_.

SCENE III.--_Through a rock is discovered a navy of
ships riding at a distance_.

_Enter AMIDEO_.

_Amid_. Thus far, unseen by Manuel, I have traced him;
He can be gone no farther than the walk
Behind the rock: I'll back, and tell my master.

_Enter HIPPOLITO at the other end_.

_Hip_. This is the place, where Roderick must expect
His Julia:--How! Amideo here!

_Amid_. Hippolito!

_Hip_. This were so fit a time
For my revenge, had I the courage, now!
My heart swells at him, and my breath grows short;
But whether fear or anger choaks it up,
I cannot tell.

_Amid_. He looks so ghastfully,
Would I were past him; yet I fear to try it,
Because my mind misgives me he will stop me.
By your leave, Hippolito.

_Hip_. Whither so fast?

_Amid_. You'll not presume to hinder my lord's business?
He shall know it.

_Hip_. I'll make you sure, before,
For telling any tales: Do you remember,
Since you defended Angelina's beauty
Against Honoria's; nay, and would maintain it.

_Amid_. And so I will do still; (I must feign courage,
There is no other way.) [_Aside_.

_Hip_. I'll so revenge
That injury! (if my heart fails me not.)

_Amid_. Come, confess truly, for, I know, it fails you.
What would you give to avoid fighting now?

_Hip_. No, 'tis your heart that fails.

_Amid_. I scorn the danger;
Yet, what compassion on your youth might do,
I cannot tell; and, therefore, do not work
Upon my pity; for I feel already
My stout heart melts.

_Hip_. Oh! Are you thereabout?
Now I am sure you fear; and you shall fight.

_Amid_. I will not fight.

_Hip_. Confess, then, Angelina
Is not so fair as is Honoria.

_Amid_. I do confess; now are you satisfied?

_Hip_. There's more behind; confess her not so worthy
To be beloved, nor to possess Gonsalvo,
As fair Honoria is.

_Amid_. That's somewhat hard.

_Hip_. But you must do't, or die.

_Amid_. Well, life is sweet;
She's not so worthy: Now, let me be gone.

_Hip_. No, never to my master; swear to quit
His service, and no more to see his face.

_Amid_. I fain would save my life, but that, which you
Propose, is but another name to die.
I cannot live without my master's sight.

_Hip_. Then you must fight with me for him.

_Amid_. I would
Do any thing with you, but fighting for him.

_Hip_. Nothing but that will serve.

_Amid_. Lay by our swords,
And I'll scratch with you for him.

_Hip_. That's not manly.

_Amid_. Well, since it must be so, I'll fight:--Unbutton.

[_HIPPOLITO unbuttons slowly_.

How many buttons has he? I'll be one
Behind him still. [_Aside_.

[_Unbuttons one by one after him. HIPPOLITO makes more haste_.

You are so prodigal! if you loved my master,
You would not tear his doublet so:--How's this!
Two swelling breasts! a woman, and my rival!
The stings of jealousy have given me courage,
Which nature never gave me:
Come on, thou vile dissembler of thy sex;
Expect no mercy; either thou or I
Must die upon this spot: Now for Gonsalvo--

_Hip_. This courage is not counterfeit; ah me!
What shall I do? for pity, gentle boy--

_Amid_. No pity; such a cause as ours
Can neither give nor take it: If thou yieldest,
I will not spare thee; therefore, fight it out.
[_Tears open his doublet_.

_Hip_. Death to my hopes! a woman! and so rare
A beauty, that my lord must needs doat on her.
I should myself, if I had been a man:
But, as I am, her eyes shoot death at me.

_Amid_. Come, have you said your prayers?

_Hip_. For thy confusion,--
Thou ravenous harpy, with an angel's face,--
Thou art discovered, thou too charming rival;
I'll be revenged upon those fatal eyes.

_Amid_. I'll tear out thine.

_Hip_. I'll bite out hungry morsels
From those plump cheeks, but I will make them

_Amid_. I'd beat thee to the blackness of a Moor.
But that the features of thy face are such,
Such damnable, invincible good features,
That as an Ethiop thou would'st still be loved.

_Hip_. I'll quite unbend that black bow o'er thine eyes;
I'll murder thee, and Julia shall have him,
Rather than thou.

_Amid_. I'll kill both thee and her,
Rather than any one but I shall have him.

_Hip_. Come on, thou witch.

_Amid_. Have at thy heart, thou Syren.

[_They draw and fight awkwardly, not coming near one another_.

_Amid_. I think I paid you there.

_Hip_. O stay a little,
And tell me in what corner of thy heart
Gonsalvo lies, that I may spare that place.

_Amid_. He lies in the last drop of all my blood,
And never will come out, but with my soul.

_Hip_. Come, come, we dally;
Would one of us were dead, no matter which!
[_They fight nearer_.

_Enter Don_ MANUEL.

_Man_. The pretty boys, that serve Gonsalvo, fighting!
I come in time to save the life of one.

[HIPPOLITO _gets_ AMIDEO _down in closing:
MANUEL takes away their swords_.

_Hip_. For goodness' sake, hinder not my revenge.

_Amid_. The noble Manuel has saved my life:
Heavens, how unjustly have I hated him. [_Aside_.

_Man_. What is it, gentle youths, that moves you thus?
I cannot tell what causes you may find;
But, trust me, all the world, in so much sweetness,
Would be to seek where to begin a quarrel:
You seem the little Cupids in the song,
Contending for the honey-bag.

_Hip_. 'Tis well
You're come; you may prevent a greater mischief:
Here 'tis Gonsalvo has appointed Roderick--

_Man_.To fight?

_Hip_. What's worse: to give your sister to him.
Won by her tears, he means to leave her free,
And to redeem her misery with his:
At least so I conjecture.

_Man_. 'Tis a doubtful
Problem; either he loves her violently,
Or not at all.

_Amid_. You have betrayed my master:--

[_To_ HIPPOLITO. _Aside_.

_Hip_. If I have injured you, I mean to give you
The satisfaction of a gentlewoman.

_Enter_ GONSALVO _and_ JULIA.

_Man_. Oh, they are here; now I shall be resolved.

_Jul_. My brother Manuel! what fortune's this!

_Man_. I'm glad I have prevented you.

_Gons_. With what
Variety my fate torments me still!
Never was man so dragged along by virtue;
But I must follow her.

_Jul_. Noble Gonsalvo,
Protect me from my brother.

_Gons_. Tell me, sir,
When you bestowed your sister on me, did not
You give her freely up to my dispose?

_Man_. 'Tis true, I did; but never with intent
You should restore her to my enemy.

_Gons_. 'Tis past; 'tis done: She undermined my soul
With tears; as banks are sapped away by streams.

_Man_. I wonder what strange blessing she expects
From the harsh nature of this Rodorick;
A man made up of malice and revenge.

_Jul_. If I possess him, I may be unhappy;
But if I lose him, I am surely so.
Had you a friend so desperately sick,
That all physicians had forsook his cure;
All scorched without, and all parched up within,
The moisture that maintained consuming nature
Licked up, and in a fever fried away;
Could you behold him beg, with dying eyes,
A glass of water, and refuse it him,
Because you knew it ill for his disease?
When he would die without it, how could you
Deny to make his death more easy to him?

_Man_. Talk not to me of love, when honour suffers.
The boys will hiss at me.

_Gons_. I suffer most:
Had there been 'choice, what would I not have chose?
To save my honour I my love must lose:
But promises, once made, are past debate,
And truth's of more necessity than fate.

_Man_. I scarce can think your promise absolute;
There might some way be thought on, if you would,
To keep both her and it.

_Gons_. No, no; my promise was no trick of state:
I meant to be made truly wretched first,
And then to die; and I'll perform them both.

_Man_. Then that revenge, I meant on Rodorick,
I'll take on you. [_Draws_.

_Gons_.--I draw with such regret,
As merchants throw their wealth into the sea,
To save their sinking vessels from a wreck.

_Man_. I find I cannot lift my hand against thee:
Do what thou wilt; but let not me behold it.
[_Goes off a little way_.
I'll cut this gordian knot I cannot loose:
To keep his promise, Rodorick shall have her,
But I'll return and rescue her by force;
Then giving back what he so frankly gave,
At once my honour and his love I'll save.
[_Exit MANUEL_.


_Rod_. How! Julia brought by him?--Who sent
for me?

_Gons_. 'Twas I.

_Rod_. I know your business then; 'tis fighting.

_Gons_. You're mistaken; 'tis something that I

_Rod_. What is't?

_Gons_. Why,--'twill not out: Here, take her;
And deserve her: but no thanks;
For fear I should consider what I give,
And call it back.--

_Jul_. O my dear Rodorick!

_Gons_. O cruel Julia!
For pity shew not all your joy before me;
Stifle some part of it one minute longer,
'Till I am dead.

_Jul_. My Rodorick shall know,
He owes his Julia to you; thank him, love;
In faith I take it ill you are so slow.

_Rod_. You know he has forbid me; and, beside,
He'll take it better from your mouth than mine;
All that you do must needs be pleasing to him.

_Jul_. Still sullen and unkind!

_Rod_. Why, then, in short,
I do not understand the benefit.

_Gons_. Not to have Julia in thy free possession?

_Rod_. Not brought by you; not of another's leaving.

_Jul_. Speak softly, Rodorick: Let not these hear thee;
But spare my shame for the ill choice I made,
In loving thee.

_Rod_. I will speak loud, and tell thee,
Thou com'st, all cloyed and tired with his embraces,
To proffer thy palled love to me; his kisses
Do yet bedew thy lips; the very print,
His arms made round thy body, yet remains.

_Gons_. O barbarous jealousy!

_Jul_. 'Tis an harsh word:
I am too pure for thee; but yet I love thee.

[_Offers to take his hand_.

_Rod_. Away, foul impudence.

_Gons_. Madam, you wrong
Your virtue, thus to clear it by submission.

_Jul_. Whence grows this boldness, sir? did I ask you
To be my champion?

_Rod_. He chose to be your friend, and not your husband:
Left that dull part of dignity to me;
As often the worst actors play the kings.

_Jul_. This jealousy is but excess of passion,
Which grows up, wild, in every lover's breast;
But changes kind when planted in an husband.

_Rod_. Well, what I am, I am; and what I will be,
When you are mine, my pleasure shall determine.
I will receive no law from any man.

_Jul_. This strange unkindness of my Rodorick
I owe to thee, and thy unlucky love;
Henceforth go lock it up within thy breast;
'Tis only harmless while it is concealed,
But, opened, spreads infection like a vault.
Go, and my curse go with thee!--

_Gons_. I cannot go 'till I behold you happy:--
--Here, Rodorick, receive her on thy knees;
Use her with that respect, which thou would'st pay
Thy guardian angel, if he could be seen.
--Do not provoke my anger by refusing.--
I'll watch thy least offence to her; each word,
Nay, every sullen look;--
And, as the devils, who are damned to torments,
Yet have the guilty souls their slaves to punish;
So, under me, while I am wretched, thou
Shalt be tormented.--

_Rod_. Would'st thou make me the tenant of thy lust,
To toil, and for my labour take the dregs,
The juicy vintage being left for thee?
No: she's an infamous, lewd prostitute:
I loath her at my soul.

_Gons_. I can forbear
No longer: swallow down thy lie, foul villain.

[_They fight off the stage. Exeunt_.

_Jul_. Help, help!

_Amid_. Here is that witch, whose fatal beauty
Began the mischief; she shall pay for all.

[_Goes to kill JULIA_.

_Hip_. I hate her for it more than thou canst do;
But cannot see her die, my master loves.

[_Goes between with her sword_.

_Enter_ GONSALVO, _following_ RODORICK, _who falls_.

_Rod_. So, now I am at rest:--
I feel death rising higher still, and higher,
Within my bosom; every breath I fetch
Shuts up my life within a shorter compass,
And, like the vanishing sound of bells, grows less
And less each pulse, 'till it be lost in air.

[_Swoons away_.

_Gons_. Down at your feet, much injured innocence,
I lay that sword, which--

_Jul_. Take it up again;
It has not done its work 'till I am killed:
For ever, ever, thou hast robbed me of
That man, that only man, whom I could love:
Dost thou thus court thy mistress? thus oblige her?
All thy obligements have been fatal yet,
Yet the most fatal now would most oblige me.
Kill me:--yet I am killed before in him.
I lie there on the ground; cold, cold, and pale:
That death, I die in Roderick, is far
More pleasant than that life, I live in Julia.--
--See how he stands--when he is bid dispatch me!
How dull! how spiritless! that sloth possest
Thee not, when thou didst kill my Roderick.

_Gons_. I'm too unlucky to converse with men:
I'll pack together all my mischiefs up,
Gather with care each little remnant of them,
That none of them be left behind: Thus loaded,
Fly to some desert, and there let them loose,
Where they may never prey upon mankind.
But you may make my journey shorter:--Take
This sword; 'twill shew you how:--

_Jul_.I'll gladly set you on your way:--
[_Takes his sword_.

_Enter three of_ RODORICK'S _servants_.

_1 Serv_. Make haste; he's now unarmed, we may with ease
Revenge my master's death.

_Jul_. Now these shall do it.

_Gons_. I'll die by none but you.--

_Hip_. O here, take my sword, sir.

_Amid_. He shall have mine.

[_Both give their swords_ to GONSALVO.

_Enter MANUEL_.

_Man_. Think not of death.
We'll live and conquer.

[_They beat them off_.

_Man_. These fellows, though beat off, will strait return
With more; we must make haste to save ourselves.

_Hip_. 'Tis far to the town,
And, ere you reach it, you will be discovered.

_Gons_. My life's a burden to me, were not Julia's
Concerned; but, as it is, she, being present,
Will be found accessary to his death.

_Man_. See where a vessel lies, not far from shore;
And near at hand a boat belonging to her;
Let's haste aboard, and what with prayers and gifts
Buy our concealment there:--Come, Julia.

_Gons_. Alas, she swoons away upon the body.

_Man_. The night grows on apace; we'll take her in
Our arms, and bear her hence.

[_Exeunt GONSALVO, and the boys, with MANUEL, carrying JULIA_.

_The Servants enter again_.

_1 Serv_. They are all gone, we may return with safety:
Help me to bear the body to the town.

_2 Serv_. He stirs, and breathes a little; there may be
Some hope.

_3 Serv_. The town's far off, and the evening cold.
Let's carry him to the ship.

_1 Serv_. Haste then away:
Things, once resolved, are ruined by delay.



_The Scene lying in a Carrack_.

_Enter a Pirate and the Captain_.

_Pir_. Welcome a ship-board, captain; you staid

_Capt_. No longer than was necessary for shifting
trades; to change me from a robber to a pirate.

_Pir_. There's a fair change wrought in you since
yesterday morning; then you talked of nothing but
repentance, and amendment of life.

_Capt_. 'Faith, I have considered better on't: for,
conversing a whole day together with honest men,
I found them all so poor and beggarly, that a civil
person would be ashamed to be seen with them:--but
you come from Don Roderick's cabin; what hopes
have you of his life?

_Pir_. No danger of it, only loss of blood had
made him faint away; he called for you.

_Capt_. Well, are his jewels and his plate brought

_Pir_. They are.--When hoist we sails?

_Capt_. At the first break of day: When we are
got out clear, we'll seize on Roderick and his men:
They are not many, but fear may make them desperate.

_Pir_. We may take them, when they are laid to

_Capt_. 'Tis well advised.

_Pir_. I forgot to tell you, sir, that a little before
Don Roderick was brought in, a company of gentlemen
(pursued it seems by justice) procured our
boat to row them hither. Two of them carried a
very fair lady betwixt them, who was either dead,
or swooned.

_Capt_. We'll sell them altogether to the Turk,--at
least I'll tell them so. [_Aside_.

_Pir_. Pray, sir, let us reserve the lady to our own
uses; it were a shame to good catholicks to give
her up to infidels.

_Capt_. Don Roderick's door opens; I'll speak to

_The Scene draws, and discovers the Captains cabin;
RODORICK on a bed, and two Servants by him_.

_Capt_. How is it with the brave Don Roderick?
Do you want any thing?

_Rod_. I have too much
Of that I would not, love;
And what I would have, that I want, revenge.
I must be set ashore.

_Capt_. That you may, sir;
But our own safety must be thought on first.

[_One enters, and whispers the Captain_.

_Capt_. I come:--Seignior, think you are lord
here, and command all freely.

[_Exeunt Captain and Pirates_.

_Rod_. He does well to bid me think so: I am of opinion
We are fallen into huckster's hands.

_1 Serv_. Indeed he talked suspiciously enough;
He half denied to land us.

_Rod_. These, Pedro, are your confiding men--

_2 Serv_. I think them still so.

_Rod_. Would I were from them.

_2 Serv_. 'Tis impossible
To attempt it now; you have not strength enough
To walk.

_Rod_. That venture must be mine: We're lost,
If we stay here to-morrow.

_2 Serv_. I hope better.

_1 Serv_. One whom I saw among 'em, to my knowledge,
Is a notorious robber.

_2 Serv_. He looked so like a gentleman, I could
not know him then.

_Rod_. What became of Julia when I fell?

_1 Serv_. We left her weeping over you, till we
Were beaten off; but she, and those with her,
Were gone when we returned.

_Rod_. Too late I find,
I wronged her in my thoughts. I'm every way
A wretched man:--
Something we must resolve on, ere we sleep;
Draw in the bed, I feel the cold.

[_Bed drawn in. Exeunt_.



_Hip_. Nay, 'tis too true; for, peeping through a chink,
I saw Don Roderick lying on a bed,
Not dead, as we supposed, but only hurt;
So waited on as spoke him master here.

_Man_. Was there ever so fatal an adventure!
To fly into that very ship, for refuge,
Where the only person, we would shun, commands!
This mischief is so strange, it could not happen,
But was the plot and juggle of our fate,
To free itself, and cast the blame on us.

_Gons_. This is not yet our fortune's utmost malice;
The gall remains behind. This ship was that,
Which yesterday was mine; I can see nothing
Round me, but what's familiar to my eyes;
Only the persons new: Which makes me think,
Twas seized upon by Roderick, to revenge
Himself on me.

_Man_. Tis wonderful indeed.

_Amid_. The only comfort is, we are not known;
For when we entered it was dark.

_Hip_. That comfort
Is of as short continuance as the night;
The day will soon discover us.

_Man_. Some way must be invented to get out.

_Hip_. Fair Julia, sadly pining by herself.
Sits on her bed; tears falling from her eyes,
As silently as dews in dead of night.
All we consult of must be kept from her:
That moment, that she knows of Roderick's life,
Dooms us to certain death.

_Man_. 'Tis well considered.

_Gons_. For my part, were not you and she concerned,
I look upon my life, like an estate,
So charged with debts, it is not worth the keeping.
We cannot long be undiscovered by them;
Let us then rush upon them on the sudden,
(All hope of safety placed in our despair)
And gain quick victory, or speedy death.

_Man_. Consider first, the impossibility
Of the attempt; four men, and two poor boys,
(Which, added to our number, make us weaker)
Against ten villains, more resolved for death,
Than any ten among our holiest priests.
Stay but a little longer, till they all
Disperse to rest within their several cabins;
Then more securely we may set upon them,
And kill them half, before the rest can wake:
By this means too, the boys are useful for us,
For they can cut the throats of sleeping men.

_Hip_. Now have I the greatest temptation in the world to reveal,
Thou art a woman. [_To AMIDEO_.

_Amid_. If 'twere not for thy beauty, my master should know,
What a man he keeps. [_To HIPPOLITO_.

_Hip_. Why should we have recourse to desperate ways,
When safer may be thought on?
'Tis like giving the extreme unction.
In the beginning of a sickness;
Can you imagine to find all asleep?
The wicked joy, of having such a booty
In their possession, will keep some awake;
And some, no doubt, will watch with wounded

_Amid_. What would your wisdom now propose?

_Hip_. To say
That some of us are sea-sick; (your complexion
Will make the excuse for us who are less fair:)
So, by good words and promises, procure
We may be set ashore, ere morning come.

_Amid_. O, the deep reasons of the grave Hippolito!--
As if 'twere likely, in so calm a season,
We should be sick so soon; or, if we were,
Whom should we chuse among us to go tell it?
For whoe'er ventures out must needs be known:
Or, if none knew us, can you think that pirates
Will let us go upon such easy terms,
As promising rewards?--Let me advise you.

_Hip_. Now, we expect an oracle.

_Amid_. Here are bundles,
Of canvas and of cloth, you see lie by us;
In which one of us shall sew up the rest,
Only some breathing place, for air, and food:
Then call the pirates in, and tell them, we,
For fear, had drowned ourselves: And when we come
To the next port, find means to bring us out.

_Hip_. Pithily spoken!--
As if you were to bind up marble statues,
Which only bore the shapes of men without,
And had no need of ever easing nature.

_Gons_. There's but one way left, that's this;--
You know the rope, by which the cock-boat's tied,
Goes down by the stern, and now, we are at anchor,
There sits no pilot to discover us;
My counsel is, to go down by the ladder,
And, being once there, unloose, and row to shore.

_Man_. This, without doubt, were best; but there lies ever
Some one, or more, within the boat, to watch it.

_Gons_. I'll slide down first, and run the venture of it;
You shall come after me, if there be need,
To give me succour.

_Man_. 'Tis the only way.

_Gons_. Go in to Julia, then, and first prepare her,
With knowledge of the pirates, and the danger
Her honour's in, among such barbarous people.

_Man_. Leave it to me.

_Amid_. Hippolito and Julia,
My rivals, like two pointed rocks appear;
And I, through both, must to Gonsalvo steer. [_Aside_.

[_Exeunt all but HIPPOLITA_.

_Hip_. As from some steep and dreadful precipice
The frighted traveller casts down his eyes,
And sees the ocean at so great a distance,
It looks as if the skies were sunk below him;
Yet if some neighbouring shrub (how weak soe'er)
Peeps up, his willing eyes stop gladly there,
And seem to ease themselves, and rest upon it:
So, in my desperate state, each little comfort
Preserves me from despair. Gonsalvo strove not
With greater care to give away his Julia,
Than I have done to part with my Gonsalvo;
Yet neither brought to pass our hateful wish.
Then, we may meet, since different ways we move,
Chasing each other in the maze of love.


_Enter Don RODORICK, carried by two Servants_.

_1 Serv_. It was the only way that could be thought on,
To get down by the ladder to the boat.

_2 Serv_. You may thank me for that invention.

_Rod_. What a noise is here, when the least breath's
As dangerous as a tempest.

_2 Serv_. If any of those rogues should hear him talk,
In what a case were we?

_Rod_. O, patience! patience!--
This ass brays out for silence.

_Enter, at the other end, MANUEL, leading JULIA,

_Gons_. Hark! what noise is that? go softly.

[_They meet on the middle of the stage_.

_Rod_. Who's here? I am betrayed! and nothing grieves me,
But I want strength to die with honour.

_Jul_. Roderick!
Is it thy voice, my love?--Speak, and resolve me,
Whether thou livest, or I am dead with thee?

_Man_. Kill him, and force our way.

_Rod_. Is Manuel there?
Hold up my arm, that I may make one thrust
At him, before I die.

_Gons_. Since we must fall,
We'll sell our lives as dearly as we can.

_1 Serv_. And we'll defend our master to the last.

_Enter Pirates, without their Captain_.

_1 Pirate_. What's the meaning of this uproar?--Quarrelling
Amongst yourselves at midnight?

_2 Pirate_. We are come in a fit time to decide the

_Man_. Hold, gentlemen! we're equally concerned.
[_To RODORICK'S Servants_.
We for our own, you for your master's safety;
If we join forces, we may then resist them,
If not, both sides are ruined.

_1 Serv_. We agree.

_Gons_. Come o'er on our side then. [_They join_.

_1 Pirate_. A mischief on our captain's drowsiness;
We're lost, for want of him! [_They fight_.

_Gons_. Dear madam, get behind; while you are safe,
We cannot be o'ercome. [_To JULIA_.

[_They drive off the Pirates, and follow them off.
RODORICK remains on the ground_.

_Rod_. I had much rather my own life were lost,
Than Manuel's were preserved.

_Enter the Pirates, retreating before GONSALVO, &c_.

_1 Pirate_. All's lost! they fight like devils, and our captain
Yet sleeping in his bed.

_2 Pirate_. Here lies Don Roderick;
If we must die, we'll not leave him behind.

[_Goes to kill him_.

_Jul_. O, spare my Roderick's life; and, in exchange,
Take mine! I put myself within your power,
To save or kill.

_1 Pirate_. So, here's another pawn,
For all our safeties.

_Man_. Heaven! what has she done?

_Gons_. Let go the lady, or expect no mercy!--The
least drop of her blood is worth all yours.
And mine together.

_1 Pirate_. I am glad you think so:--
Either deliver up your sword, or mine
Shall pierce her heart this moment.

_Gons_. Here, here, take it.

_Man_. You are not mad, to give away all hopes

[_MANUEL holds him_

Of safety and defence, from us, from her,
And from yourself, at once!

_Gons_. When she is dead,
What is there worth defending?

_Man_. Will you trust
A pirate's promise, sooner than your valour?

_Gons_. Any thing, rather than see her in danger.

_1 Pirate_. Nay, if you dispute the matter!--

[_Holds his sword to her breast_.

_Gons_. I yield, I yield!--Reason to love must bow:
Love, that gives courage, can make cowards too!

[_Gives his sword_.

_Jul_. O, strange effect of a most generous passion!

_Rod_. His enemies themselves must needs admire it.

_Man_. Nay, if Gonsalvo makes a fashion of it,
'Twill be valour to die tamely. [_Gives his_.

_Hip_. I am for dying too with my dear master.

_Amid_. My life will go as easily as a fly's;
The least fillip does it in this fright.

_1 Pirate_. One call our captain up: Tell him, he
deserves little of the booty.

_Jul_. It has so much prevailed upon my soul,
I ever must acknowledge it. [_To GONS_.

_Rod_. Julia has reason, if she love him; yet,
I find I cannot bear it. [_Aside_.

_Gons_. Say but, you love me; I am more than

_Jul_. You ask that only thing, I cannot give;--
Were I not Roderick's first, I should be yours;
My violent love for him, I know, is faulty;
Yet passion never can be placed so ill,
But that to change it is the greater crime.
Inconstancy is such a guilt, as makes
That very love suspected, which it brings;
It brings a gift, but 'tis of ill-got wealth,
The spoils of some forsaken lover's heart.
Love, altered once, like blood let out before,
Will lose its virtue, and can cure no more.

_Gons_. In those few minutes which I have to live,
To be called yours, is all I can enjoy.
Roderick receives no prejudice by that;
I would but make some small acquaintance here,
For fear I never should enquire you out
In that new world, which we are going to.

_Amid_. Then, I can hold no longer;--You desire,
In death, to be called hers; and all I wish,
Is, dying, to be yours.

_Hip_. You'll not discover? [_Aside_.

_Amid_. See here the most unfortunate of women,
That Angelina, whom you all thought lost;
And lost she was indeed, when she beheld
Gonsalvo first.

_All_. How?--Angelina!

_Rod_. Ha!
My sister!

_Amid_. I thought to have fled love in flying Manuel,
But love pursued me in Gonsalvo's shape:
For him, I ventured all that maids hold dear;
The opinion of my modesty, and virtue,
My loss of fortune, and my brother's love.
For him, I have exposed myself to dangers,
Which, great themselves, yet greater would appear,
If you could see them through a woman's fear.
But why do I my right by dangers prove?
The greatest argument for love is love:
That passion, Julia, while he lives, denies,
He should refuse to give her when he dies:
Yet grant he did his life to her bequeath,
May I not claim my share of him in death?
I only beg, when all the glory's gone,
The heatless beams of a departing sun.

_Gons_. Never was passion, hid so modestly,
So generously revealed.

_Man_. We're now a chain of lovers linked in death;
Julia goes first, Gonsalvo hangs on her,
And Angelina holds upon Gonsalvo,
As I on Angelina.

_Hip_. Nay, here's Honoria too:--You
look on me with wonder in your eyes,
To see me here, and in this strange disguise.

_Jul_. What new miracle is this? Honoria!

_Man_. I left you with my aunt at Barcelona,
And thought, ere this, you had been married to
The rich old man, Don Estevan de Gama.

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