by John Dryden
[Bed drawn in. Exeunt.
SCENE II.
Enter GONSALVO, MANUEL, HIPPOLITO and AMIDEO.
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
Roderick.
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.
[Exit.
SCENE III.
Enter Don RODORICK, carried by two Servants.
Serv. It was the only way that could be thought on, To get down by the ladder to the boat.
Serv. You may thank me for that invention.
Rod. What a noise is here, when the least breath’s As dangerous as a tempest.
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, GONSALVO, HIPPOLITO, and AMIDEO.
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.
Serv. And we’ll defend our master to the last. [Fight.
Enter Pirates, without their Captain.
Pirate. What’s the meaning of this uproar? — Quarrelling Amongst yourselves at midnight?
Pirate. We are come in a fit time to decide the difference.
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.
Serv. We agree.
Gons. Come o’er on our side then. [They join.
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.
Pirate. All’s lost! they fight like devils, and our captain Yet sleeping in his bed.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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 paid.
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.
Hip. I ever had a strange aversion for him:
But when Gonsalvo landed there, and made
A kind of courtship, (though, it seems, in jest,)
It served to conquer me; which Estevan
Perceiving, pressed my aunt to haste the marriage.
What should I do? My aunt importuned me
For the next day: Gonsalvo, though I loved him,
Knew not my love; nor was I sure his courtship
Was not the effect of a bare gallantry.
Gons. Alas! how grieved I am, that slight address Should make so deep impression on your mind, In three days time!
Hip. That accident, in which
You saved my life, when first you saw me, caused it,
Though now the story be too long to tell.
Howe’er it was, hearing that night, you lay
Aboard your ship, thus, as you see, disguised,
In clothes belonging to my youngest nephew,
I rose ere day, resolved to find you out,
And, if I could, procure to wait on you
Without discovery of myself: but fortune
Crossed all my hopes.
Gons. It was that dismal night
Which tore my anchor up, and tossed my ship,
Past hope of safety, many days together,
Until at length it threw me on this port.
Hip. I will not tell you what my sorrows were,
To find you gone; but there was now no help.
Go back again, I durst not; but, in fine,
Thought best, as fast as my weak legs would bear me,
To come to Alicant, and find my sister,
Unknown to any else: But, being near
The city, I was seized upon by thieves,
From whom you rescued me. — The rest you know.
Gons. I know too much indeed for my repose.
Enter Captain.
Capt. Do you know me?
Gons. Now I look better on thee, Thou seemest a greater villain than I thought thee.
Jul ’Tis he!
Hip. That bloody wretch, that robbed us in The woods.
Gons. Slave! darest thou lift thy hand against me?
Darest thou touch any one whom he protects,
Who gave thee life? But I accuse myself,
Not thee: The death of all these guiltless persons
Became my crime, that minute when I spared thee.
; Capt. It is not all your threats can alter me From what I have resolved.
Gons. Begin, then, first With me.
Capt. I will, by laying here my sword. [Lays his sword at Gonsalvo’s feet.
All. What means this sudden change?
Capt. Tis neither new, nor sudden. — From that time
You gave me life, I watched how to repay it;
And Roderick’s servant gave me speedy means
To effect my wish: For, telling me, his master
Meant a revenge on you, and on Don Manuel,
And then to seize on Julia, and depart,
I proffered him my aid to seize a vessel;
And having, by enquiry, found out yours,
Acquainted first the captain with my purpose,
To make a seeming mastery of the ship.
Man. How durst he take your word?
Capt. That I secured,
By letting him give notice to the ships
That lay about: This done, knowing the place
You were to fight on was behind the rock,
Not far from thence, I, and some chosen men,
Lay out of sight, that, if foul play were offered,
We might prevent it:
But came not in; because, when there was need,
Don Manuel, who was nearer, stepped before me.
Gons. Then the boat, which seemed To lie by chance, hulling not far from shore, Was placed by your direction there?
Capt. It was.
Gons. You’re truly noble; and I owe much more Than my own life and fortunes to your worth.
Capt. ’Tis time I should restore their liberty To such of yours, as yet are seeming prisoners. I’ll wait on you again. [Exit Captain.
Rod. My enemies are happy; and the storm, Prepared for them, must break upon my head.
Gons. So far am I from happiness, heaven knows
My griefs are doubled!
I stand engaged in hopeless love to Julia;
In gratitude to these: —
Here I have given my heart, and here I owe it.
Hip. Dear master, trouble not yourself for me;
I ever made your happiness my own;
Let Julia witness with what faith I served you.
When you employed me in your love to her,
I gave your noble heart away, as if
It had been some light gallant’s, little worth:
Not that I loved you less than Angelina,
But myself less than you.
Gons. Wonder of honour!
Of which my own was but a fainter shadow.
When I gave Julia, whom I could not keep,
You fed a fire within, with too rich fuel,
In giving it your heart to prey upon;
The sweetest offering that was ever burnt
Since last the Phoenix died.
Hip. If Angelina knew, like me, the pride