Act II, Scene 1

[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.]

GIL.
We are alone. Come, I will tell you first
My story. As you say you saw us last,
Alonso and myself, in Portugal;
Such an escape as (so the wise men say)
Is from the frying-pan into the fire.
We landing from the river on the estate
Of that great potentate the High Admiral.
Whose cousin, it turn’d out, was the very man
Alonso slew; whereat the Admiral,
Who had, before he knew this, promised us
Protection, gave us truly such protection
As the cat gives the mouse that she thinks safe
Under her paw. But we escaped from her,
And after much adventures came at last
To San Lucar here, where the Duke, who now
Is general of the war that our good king
Wages with England, courteously received us;
Gave Don Alonso a regiment; made me
An Ensign in it as you see; enough—
I know you will not wish a longer story
From one whose heart, until you tell him yours,
Hangs from a hair.

MAN.
To take the story up then
Where you did, Perez—scarcely had you plunged
Into the river, than the sheriff’s rout
Came after you; but, seeing all was lost,
Went angry to their homes, and I to yours;
Where I received such hospitality
As our old friendship—But I falter here,
Scarce knowing how to tell—
Nay, almost doubting if to tell at all,
Or to conceal, what to conceal and tell
At once were best. You made me promise, Gil,
At parting—yea, with those last words hard wrung
Out of your breathless struggle with the flood—
That I would watch the honour of your house.
I did so: and it is because I did so
That I was forced to leave it.

GIL.
Manuel,
Your words are slaying me by syllables.
But tell me all—How was ’t?

MAN.
One Juan Baptista
Courted your sister.

GIL.
Well?

MAN.
And came at last
To such a boldness, that one night he stole
Into the house.

GIL.
Manuel!

MAN.
I, who was watching,
Ran from my chamber, found a muffled man;
Threw myself on him; he, alerter yet,
Leap’d from the window, and I after him
Into the street, where two he’d posted there
Came to his rescue; one of them I slew,
The other wounded, while the rogue himself
Fled and escaped. What could I do, my friend,
A foreigner, charg’d with a homicide
In a strange country, with Juana too
Involved with me? If I were wrong to fly,
I did so thinking how yourself would act
In a like case.

GIL.
’Tis true, I cannot blame you.
Ah! he said truer may be than he meant,
Who liken’d a true friend to a true mirror,
That shows one all oneself indeed, but all
Reversed; that when I look into your breast
To see my honour, I but see disgrace
Reflected there. I must begone at once
To Salvatierra; for to leave my name
In danger is to let it run to shame.

[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.]