by John Dryden
Serv. There you’re sure you shall be welcome.
Gons. Aye, if my brother Rodoric be returned From Flanders; but ’tis now three years since I Have heard from him, and, since I saw him, twelve.
Serv. Your growth, and your long absence in the Indies, Have altered you so much, he’ll scarcely know you.
Gons. I’m sure I should not him, and less my sister;
Who, when I with my uncle went this voyage,
Was then one of those little prating girls,
Of whom fond parents tell such tedious stories:
Well, go you back.
Serv. I go, sir.
Gons. And take care None of the seamen slip ashore.
Serv. I shall, sir. [Exit Servant.
Gons. I’ll walk a little while among these trees,
Now the fresh evening air blows from the hills,
And breathes the sweetness of the orange flowers
Upon me, from the gardens hear the city.
Robbers within.
Rob. I say, make sure, and kill him.
Hip. For heaven’s dear sake have pity on my youth.
[Within.
Gons. Some violence is offered in the wood
By robbers to a traveller: Whoe’er
Thou art, humanity obliges me
To give thee succour.
Hip. Help! ah cruel men! [Within.
Gons. This way, I think, the voice came; ’tis not far. [Exit.
The SCENE draws, and discovers HIPPOLITO bound to a tree, and two Robbers by him with drawn swords.
Rob. Strip him, and let him go.
Rob. Dispatch him quite; off with his doublet quickly.
Hip. Ah me, unfortunate!
Enter GONSALVO, seizes the sword of one of them, and runs him through; then, after a little resistance, disarms the other.
Rob. If you have mercy in you, spare my life;
I never was consenting to a deed
So black as murder, though my fellow urged me:
I only meant to rob, and I am punished
Enough, in missing of my wicked aim.
Gons. Do they rob angels here? This sweet youth has
A face so like one, which I lately saw,
It makes your crime of kin to sacrilege:
But live; and henceforth
Take nobler courses to maintain your life:
Here’s something that will rescue you from want,
‘Till you can find employment.
[Gives him gold, and unbinds HIPPOLITO.
Hip. What strange adventure’s this! How little hoped I, When thus disguised I stole from Barcelona, To be relieved by brave Gonsalvo here? [Aside.
Rob. That life, you have preserved, shall still be yours;
And that you may perceive, how much my nature
Is wrought upon by this your generous act,
That goodness, you have shown to me, I’ll use
To others for your sake, if you dare trust me
A moment from your sight.
Gons. Nay, take your sword;
I will not so much crush a budding virtue,
As to suspect. [Gives him his sword. Exit Robber.
— Sweet youth, you shall not leave me,
Till I have seen you safe.
Hip. You need not doubt it:
Alas! I find I cannot, if I would:
I am but freed to be a greater slave: [Aside.
How much am I obliged, sir, to your valour!
Gons. Rather to your own sweetness, pretty youth;
You must have been some way preserved, though I
Had not been near; my aid did but prevent
Some miracle more slowly setting out
To save such excellence.
Hip. How much more gladly could I hear those words, If he, that spoke them, knew he spoke to me! [Aside.
Enter the Robber again with Don MANUEL, and JULIA, bound.
My brother and my sister prisoners too!
They cannot sure discover me through this
Disguise; however, I’ll not venture it.
[Steps behind the trees.
Rob. This gentleman and lady [To GONS. privately. My fellows bound. [Exit Robber.
Man. We must prepare to die; This is the captain of the Picarons.
Jul. Methinks he looks like one; I have a strange Aversion to that man; he’s fatal to me.
Gons. I ne’er saw excellence in womankind [Stares on her. Till now, and yet discern it at the first: Perfection is discovered in a moment; He, that ne’er saw the sun before, yet knows him.
Jul. How the villain stares upon me!
Gons. Wonder prepares my soul, and then love enters: But wonder is so close pursued by love, That, like a fire, it warms as soon as born.
Man. If we must die, what need these circumstances?
Jul. Heaven defend me from him!
Gons. Why, madam, can you doubt a rudeness from me?
Your very fears and griefs create an awe,
Such majesty they bear; methinks, I see
Your soul retired within her inmost chamber.
Like a fair mourner sit in state, with all
The silent pomp of sorrow round about her.
Man. Your language does express a man, bred up To worthier ways than those you follow now.
Gons. What does he mean? [Aside.
Man. If (as it seems) you love; love is a passion,
Which kindles honour into noble acts:
Restore my sister’s liberty; oblige her,
And see what gratitude will work.
Gons. All this is stranger yet.
Man. Whate’er a brother’s power To-morrow can do for you, claim it boldly.
Gons. I know not why you think yourselves my prisoners;
This lady’s freedom is a thing too precious
To be disposed by any but herself:
But value this small service as you please,
Which you reward too prodigally, by
Permitting me to pay her more.
Jul. Love from an outlaw? from a villain, love?
If I have that power on thee, thou pretend’st,
Go and pursue thy mischiefs, but presume not
To follow me: — Come, brother. [Ex. Jul. and Man.
Gons. Those foul names of outlaw and of villain
I never did deserve: They raise my wonder. [Walks.
Dull that I was, not to find this before!
She took me for the captain of the robbers;
It must be so; I’ll tell her her mistake.
[Goes out hastily, and returns immediately.
She’s gone, she’s gone, and who or whence she is
I cannot tell; methinks, she should have left
A track so bright, I might have followed her;
Like setting suns, that vanish in a glory.
O villain that I am! O hated villain!
Enter HIPPOLITO again.
Hip. I cannot suffer you to wrong yourself
So much; for, though I do not know your person,
Your actions are too fair, too noble, sir,
To merit that foul name.
Gons. Pr’ythee, do not flatter me; I am a villain; That admirable lady said I was.
Hip. I fear, you love her, sir.
Gons. No, no, not love her:
Love is the name of some more gentle passion;
Mine is a fury, grown up in a moment
To an extremity, and lasting in it;
An heap of powder set on fire, and burning
As long as any ordinary fuel.
Hip. How could he love so soon? and yet, alas!
What cause have I to ask that question,
Who loved him the first minute that I saw him?
I cannot leave him thus, though I perceive
His heart engaged another way. [Aside.
Sir, can you have such pity on my youth, [To Him.
On my forsaken and my helpless youth,
To take me to your service?
; Gons. Would’st thou serve
A madman? how can he take care of thee,
Whom fortune and his reason have abandoned?
A man, that saw, and loved, and disobliged,
Is banished, and is mad, all in a moment.
Hip. Yet you alone have title to my service; You make me yours by your preserving me: And that’s the title heaven has to mankind.
Gons. Pr’ythee, no more.
Hip. I know your mistress too.
Gons. Ha! dost thou know the person I adore? Answer me quickly; speak, and I’ll receive thee: Hast thou no tongue?
Hip. Why did I say I knew her? All I can hope for, if I have my wish To live with him, is but to be unhappy. [Aside.
Gons. Thou false and lying boy, to say thou knew’st her; Pr’ythee, say something, though thou cozen’st me.
Hip. Since you will know, her name is Julia, sir, And that young gentleman you saw, her brother, Don Manuel de Torres.
Gons. Say I should take thee, boy, and should employ thee To that fair lady, would’st thou serve me faithfully?
Hip. You ask me an hard question: I can die For you; perhaps I cannot woo so well.
Gons. I knew thou would’st not do’t.
Hip. I swear I would:
But, sir, I grieve to be the messenger
Of more unhappy news; she must be married
This day to one Don Roderick de Sylva,
Betwixt whom and her brother there has been.
A long (and it was thought a mortal) quarrel,
But now it must for ever end in peace:
For, happening both to love each others sisters,
They have concluded it in a cross marriage;
Which, in the palace of Don Rodorick,
They went to celebrate from their countryhouse,
When, taken by the thieves, you rescued them.
Gons. Methinks I am grown patient on a sudden,
And all my rage is gone: like losing gamesters,
Who fret and storm, and swear at little losses;
But, when they see all hope of fortune vanished,
Submit, and gain a temper by their ruin.
Hip. Would you could cast this love, which troubles you, Out of your mind!
Gons. I cannot, boy; but since
Her brother, with intent to cozen me,
Made me the promise of his best assistance,
I’ll take some course to be revenged of him.
[Is going out.
But stay — I charge thee, boy, discover not
To any, who I am.
Hip. Alas, I cannot, sir; I know you not.
Gons. Why, there’s it; I am mad again; Oh love!
Hip. Oh love! [Exeunt.
SCENE II.
Enter two Servants of Don RODORICK’S, placing chairs, and talking as they place them.
Serv. Make ready quickly there; Don Manuel And his fair sister, that must be our lady, Are coming in.
Serv. They have been long expected; ’Tis evening now, and the canonic hours For marriage are past.
Serv. The nearer bedtime,
The better still; my lord will not defer it:
He swears, the clergy are no fit judges
Of our necessities.
Serv. Where is my lord?
Serv. Gone out to meet his bride.
Serv. I wonder that my lady Angelina Went not with him; she’s to be married too.
Serv. I do not think she fancies much the man:
Only, to make the reconcilement perfect
Betwixt the families, she’s passive in it;
The choice being but her brother’s, not her own.
Serv. Troth, were’t my case, I cared not who chose for me.
Serv. Nor I; ‘twould save the process of a tedious
passion,
A long law-suit of love, which quite consumes
An honest lover, ere he gets possession:
I would come plump, and fresh, and all my self,
Served up to my bride’s bed like a fat fowl,
Before the frost of love had nipped me through.
I look on wives as on good dull companions,
For elder brothers to sleep out their time with;
All, we can hope for in the marriage-bed,
Is but to take our rest; and what care I,
Who lays my pillow for me?
Enter a Poet with verses.
Serv. Now, what’s your business, friend?
Poet. An epithalamium, to the noble bridegrooms.
Serv. Let me see; what’s here? as I live,
[Takes it.
Nothing but downright bawdry: Sirrah, rascal,
Is this an age for ribaldry in verse;
When every gentleman in town speaks it
With so much better grace, than thou canst write it?
I’ll beat thee with a stave of thy own rhymes.
Poet. Nay, good sir — [Runs off, and Exit.
Serv. Peace, they are here.
[Enter Don RODORICK, Don MANUEL, JULIA, and Company.
Serv. My lord looks sullenly, and fain would hide it.
Serv. Howe’er he weds Don Manuel’s sister, yet I fear he’s hardly reconciled to him.
Jul. I tremble at it still.
Rod. I must confess
Your danger great; but, madam, since ’tis past,
To speak of it were to renew your fears.
My noble brother, welcome to my breast.
Some, call my sister; say, Don Manuel,
Her bridegroom, waits.
Man. Tell her, in both the houses There now remains no enemy but she.
Rod. In the mean time let’s dance; madam, I hope You’ll grace me with your hand. —
[Enter LEONORA, woman to ANGELINA; takes the two men aside.
Leon. O sir, my lady Angelina —
Rod. Why comes she not?
Leon. Is fallen extremely sick.
Both. How?
Leon. Nay, trouble not yourselves too much; These fits are usual with her, and not dangerous.
Rod. O rarely counterfeited. [Aside.
Man. May not I see her?
Leon. She does, by me, deny herself that honour. [As she speaks, steals a note into his hand. I shall return, I hope, with better news; In the mean time she prays, you’ll not disturb The company. [Exit LEONORA.
Rod. This troubles me exceedingly.
Man. A note put privately into my hand By Angelina’s woman? She’s my creature: There’s something in’t; I’ll read it to myself. — [Aside.
Rod. Brother, what paper’s that?
Man. Some begging verses, Delivered me this morning on my wedding.
Rod. Pray, let me see them.
Man. I have many copies, Please you to entertain yourself with these. [Gives him another paper. MANUEL reads.
SIR,
My lady feigns this sickness to delude you:
Her brother hates you still; and the plot is,
That he shall marry first your sister,
And then deny you his. —
Yours, LEONORA.
POSTSCRIPT.
Since I writ this, I have so wrought upon her,
(Who, of herself, is timorous enough)
That she believes her brother will betray her,
Or else be forced to give her up to you;
Therefore, unknown to him, she means to fly:
Come to the garden door at seven this evening,
And there you may surprise her; mean time, I
Will keep her ignorant of all things, that
Her fear may still increase.
Enter LEONORA again.
Rod. How now? How does your lady?
Leon. So ill, she cannot possibly wait on you.
Man. Kind heaven, give me her sickness!
Rod. Those are wishes: What’s to be done?
Man. We must defer our marriages.
Rod. Leonora, now! [Aside to her
Leon. My lady, sir, has absolutely charged, Her brother’s s
hould go forward.
Rod. Absolutely!
Leon. Expressly, sir; because, she says, there are
So many honourable persons here,
Whom to defraud of their intended mirth,
And of each others company, were rude:
So, hoping your excuse — [Exit LEONORA.
Rod. That privilege of power, which brothers have
In Spain, I never used, therefore submit
My will to hers; but with much sorrow, sir,
My happiness should go before, not wait
On yours: Lead on.
Man. Stay, sir; though your fair sister, in respect
To this assembly, seems to be content
Your marriage should proceed, we must not want
So much good manners as to suffer it.
Rod. So much good manners, brother?
Man. — I have said it.
Should we, to show our sorrow for her sickness,
Provoke our easy souls to careless mirth,
As if our drunken revels were designed
For joy of what she suffers?
Rod. ‘Twill be over In a few days.
Man. Your stay will be the less.
Rod. All things are now in readiness, and must not Be put off, for a peevish humour thus.
Man. They must; or I shall think you mean not fairly.
Rod. Explain yourself.
Man. That you would marry first, And afterwards refuse me Angelina.
Rod. — Think so.
Man. You are —
Rod. Speak softly.
Man. A foul villain.
Rod. Then —
Man. Speak softly.
Rod. I’ll find a time to tell you, you are one.
Man. ’Tis well.
Ladies, you wonder at our private whispers,
[To the company.
But more will wonder when you know the cause;
The beauteous Angelina is fallen ill;
And, since she cannot with her presence grace
This day’s solemnity, the noble Roderick
Thinks fit it be deferred, ‘till she recover;
Then, we both hope to have your companies.
Lad. Wishing her health, we take our leaves. [Exeunt company. Rod. Your sister yet will marry me.
Man. She will not: Come hither, Julia.
Jul. What strange afflicting news is this you tell us?
Man. ’Twas all this false man’s plot, that when he had Possest you, he might cheat me of his sister.
Jul. Is this true, Roderick? — Alas, his silence
Does but too much confess it: How I blush
To own that love, I cannot yet take from thee!
Yet for my sake be friends.
Man. ’Tis now too late: I am by honour hindered.
Rod. I by hate.
Jul. What shall I do?
Man. Leave him, and come away; Thy virtue bids thee.