PALICIO

BLASCO. Have you not been in Sicily before? FERDINAND. Never. Bl.And, sir, what think you of Palermo? Have you as fine cities in Spain? Fer.Your city, Approached by sea or from the roofs surveyed, Smiles back upon the gazer like a queen That hears her praise. Nearer to speak I’ll grudge not, When I may nearer know: but since we came There’s been no hour a stranger might dare shew His face in the streets. Bl.The time is now unquiet. 10Fer. Rather I’d say government given over To murderous bandits, who range up and down Unchecked: to whom the king’s commissioners Were just the daintiest pricking. If I may brag Of home, our cities are more orderly. Bl. ’Tis a hot-blooded race, sir, full of stirrings, Subject to fermentation, and like good wine Ever the better for it. Fer.But can you tell me The real cause of these disturbances? Bl. Nothing is easier, sir. Your viceroy, Hugo, 20This is the point, is plunged in disesteem. He has lost the fear and won the hate of the people. Already, ere ye came, the news ye bring Of the king being dead, was buzzed. Since at his death His viceroy’s office falls to ground, our townsmen Seize on this interval, wherein they hold He hath no jurisdiction, to discredit him, Kill him maybe, if nothing else will hinder His reappointment. They but make the most Of their occasion: that is all. Fer.But how 30Can a mere handful of such ruffians hold The city, when the loyal troops are his? Bl. ’Tis known to the people that their cause hath found An ear in Spain: and here among the barons Are many who wish well to the revolt. Should Hugo push to extremes he might discover Most potent enemies. Remember, sir, ’Twas a street scuffle in this very town, That drave the French from Sicily. Fer.The thought Brings me no comfort. Bl.Wherefore ’tis his policy 40To meet the present rage by such concessions As may be popular, and to give forth The king is ill, not dead. ’Tis for this reason No mass is sung nor mourning liveries worn: To-night’s festivity, such as it is, Hath only this pretence. Fer.Are the two ladies His daughters both? Bl.The taller and the fairer, The lady Constance, is his only daughter. Your fine duke Philip, who comes now from court With such a mightiness, was once her lover. Fer. That doth not single her. 50Bl.But then it did. She was his first. ’Twas when duke Philip’s father Was viceroy here; Hugo was then chief justice, And Manuel, who succeeded him, was only Young Philip’s tutor;—he succeeds moreover Now to his pupil’s leavings, and will marry The long-forgotten Constance. Fer.’Twas the other I asked of, in white satin, she who sat On Philip’s right at supper; who is she? Bl. That, sir, is Margaret. Fer.And who is Margaret? Bl. Sister to Manuel. 60Fer.She far outshines Her future sister. Bl.They that can see have thought it: And, sir, ’twill tax your better wit to add A tittle to her full accustomed homage. Your broken heart were but a pinch of pepper Sprinkled on porridge. Now for full two years Her reign hath made a melancholy madness The fashion ’mongst our youth. Fer.I should much like To be presented. Bl.O, sir, at your will. Judge for yourself. See, here they come. (Aside.) A moth! Fer. (aside). A very civil fellow. [They retire to back. Enter R. Hugo, Philip, Manuel, Margaret, Constance and Livio. HUGO. I am sorry, your grace, 71We make so small a party. For our poor Reception, and for all shortcomings else, Accuse the occasion. PHILIP. I think, your excellence, I cannot play the guest. This house was once So long my home, that here I look to find As little ceremony as I fear I have shewn. Hu. So should it be. Make it your home again. Ph. I shall forget I have ever been away. MANUEL. Five years. Ph.Ay, but five years of wandering, 80Such as can but endear one’s home the more. My memory still would serve me to walk blindfold From any point of the city to these doors. Man. What is your memory for our studies, Philip? Ph. Too slippery for my profit. Yet the pleasure Lives very brightly;—nay, I could but name One deprivation I have more regretted. MARGARET. But now My brother has a new philosophy. Ph. Ah! If you share the secret, and I be thought Worthy of initiation, may I hear it? Mar. And welcome. Manuel, in his deep research 91For the first cause and harmony of things, Hit upon both together—they are one: ’Tis love. And now, since I profess it not, And since ’twas learnt of you... Man. (to Mar.).Hush, sister, hush! Ph. I am very proud of such a pupil. (Aside.) Since He has learned my love so readily, it may be That he may catch my jealousy— Hu.Come, duke, Sit here by me. There’s more to talk of. Livio, Fetch us the papers. Philip crosses to L. and sits by Hugo. Man. (crossing to R.). They must grant us, Constance, 100A moment now. All day I have been away, And yesterday I saw you not at all. Can you forgive a lover so remiss? CONSTANCE. I fear I half deserve your fear. Man.The time Can be but short, but it shall make amends. [They talk together. Bl. (coming forward with Fer.). Fair lady Margaret, Count Ferdinand of Vergas; I present him At his desire. Fer.Your ladyship’s true servant. Mar. I am much honoured. Fer.Lady, ’tis worth the pains To cross from Spain to see you. Mar.From that I guess 110That you are a better sailor than the duke. Fer. Nay, you judge wrong. Mar.Have you then ate no dinner? Fer. Now if I had not, I’d blame your stormy town Before the sea for that: since we left ship We are cabined in this house; to pass the door Were to leap overboard in a whole gale. Mar. I fear this is no country for you, sir, If noises in the street keep you indoors. LIVIO. Take warning, count; Sicily’s fairest rose Blooms on an angry plant. Mar.But we can boast 120Of warriors that for fragrance shame the rose. (To Liv.) Is’t musk to-day? Liv. (to Fer.). I told you. Enter Messenger R., crosses to Hugo L. MESSENGER. This paper, sire, is posted thro’ the town. Hu. Eh, eh! what have we here? [Reads. Citizens of Palermo, King Pedro is dead. God rest his soul! The office of Viceroy being vacant, the Parliament of townsmen, assembled in the church of San Lorenzo, have this day elected Manuel to be your viceroy, in place of Hugo. Death to Hugo! Long live the king! Why, Manuel, what’s this parliament? 130Man.I know No more than doth your excellence. But ’tis plain That they are orderers who put on a dress Of regular authority; they use The senatorial voice, and over all They have now usurped my name to have it thought That I have set their hatch. [Shouts without of “Death to Hugo! The Despatches!”] Ph.Here comes the parliament. Hu. Now this is what I feared. Manuel, I pray you, Go to the balcony, you have their ear; Use then your credit. Man.What, sire, shall I say? 140Hu. Well, you should know. Liv. (to Man.). Look, if they ask to hear The last despatches, gull them with some paper; Which while you show, you make as if therefrom You read the king’s not dead. Ph. (to Liv.). Nay, Livio: The word is wanted for a troop of horse. My father never would have brooked this insult From such a mob. Liv.Our soldiers are not idle. They laid hands yesterday upon the chief And head of all, one John Palicio. We have certain information that the rebels 150Cannot be kept together but by him. Hark! they are quiet now. Hu. (to Man. returning). What is your charm To win such meek obedience? Man.They’re gone, your excellence; But not from aught I said: for ere I spoke Some rumour reached them, and the skirt of the throng, That far beyond my hearing stood apart In scattered groups, broke hastily away: Then the next ranks shed off; and then the next Loosened and followed them: till the voice came To the very midst and huddle, where they pressed With upturned faces; then all heads went down, 161And with a cry they fled. Hu.Whither? Man.I think To the prison, my lord. Enter a Soldier. Hu.What now? give me thy matter. SOLDIER. The prisoner Palicio is escaped. He killed his guards, and fled beyond pursuit. Ph. (to Liv.). Why, is not this the man you spoke of? Liv.Ay, That is the man. Hu.Let the patrol be doubled for the night, And give not o’er the search. Alive or dead, A hundred florins to whoever finds him. 169Blasco, go see to it: he must not escape. Bl. (aside). But if he be escaped, who’s viceroy then? [Exit with soldier. Hu. This same Palicio, duke, is the chief rebel: While he was caged, I could despise the rest. But he’s a dangerous fellow; bred in the hills, He is yet of noble blood and high descent: A proud and lofty temper, that hath taken A graft of wildness, and shot forth afresh In base luxuriance. Tho’ yet unbearded, Bandits and exiles own him; and the people, Who hold such men in honour, can be drawn 180But by his name to any enterprise. ’Tis he that with his bread-tax cry hath stirred The commons to rebel, and be he ’scaped Clear, as ’tis thought, there will be more ado. I’ll not so much as vouch, duke, for your safety, If you should sleep in the palace. Man.Let the duke Come to my house. What say you? Hu.What say you, Philip? They would not seek you there. Ph.If ’tis your wish. I would not bring you trouble. (To Fer.) Ferdinand, These papers must be copied: take them straight Into your chamber. [Exit Ferdinand. 190Hu.’Tis but truth, your grace, We may be driven hence. The people’s cry Is Sack and fire the palace. Mar.See if Livio Have not gone pale! Now, Livio, if you think ’Tis safer at our house, for pity’s sake Spare your complexion and come back with us. Liv. No doubt that sleep were sweeter, and all things else Beneath thy roof, lady: and came there danger, That my sword might protect thee... Mar.The heavens shield us, When we be left to that. Liv.Didst thou not treat All men with like contempt, I were much wronged: 201But there’s none thou wilt praise. Mar.Now, if I needed A man to look at, I would pass my time Searching for this Palicio. As for you, When you can lead the people, and cut your way Thro’ guards and prison walls, and get a price Set on your head ... I’ll marry you. Man.Come, sister, This goes too far. Mar.Why, no. Be generous. If I be wrong, what makes you ill at ease When this man’s free? Palicio is in prison, 210And all goes cheerfully; you sit to feast, You have no care, a joke will raise a laugh. Palicio is escaped—hey! at that news What blackness reigns! Forgive me, friends; I see This man’s your master, and I like him for it. Bravery I love, and there’s no cause so poor It cannot justify. Hu.If we should take him, I’ll send him to you stuffed. Mar.Is that a speech One should forgive? Man.Enough. We take our leave. We pass by a private way, duke. 219Ph.I come with you. Good-night. All.Good-night. [Exeunt Philip, Manuel, and Margaret. Hu. (to Con.).And you to bed. Con.I pray there’s nought to fear? Hu. Nay, nay. Good-night, child; sleep you sound. Con.Dear father, Heaven keep you safe. Good-night. Hu.Fear not for me. [Exit Constance. Hark, Livio. I have learned somewhat from Philip: the Spanish court Is open to my enemies. My best hope If things go worse will be to sail for Spain And face them boldly there. ’Tis an extremity ’Twere best to avoid: but since my hands are tied I may be forced; and am so far resolved, 230That if Palicio now should raise the town, And come to attack the palace, I shall fly. I have had a way cut thro’ the chapel wall, Whence by a covered passage I can reach The harbour, where I keep a ship prepared. Thee I must leave. But let this news be spread, That Philip is with Manuel; it may serve To draw the people thither—his being here Would have impeded my escape. And first We’ll go the rounds, and see that at all points The watch is strong and wakeful. Come with me. [Exeunt.

Hall in Manuel’s house. Enter PALICIO in woman’s clothes, bleeding, a dagger in his hand. PALICIO. No one, no sound. Can I hide here I am safe. 242I have given the curs the slip, if I can hide. Safe ... But this wound, the blood runs like a river: Unless they track me by it I am clear—so far. A paltry stab. I’ll bind it round and tie it To stop the blood—so, so. Now, where to hide? For here is no protection; ’tis the house Of the chief justiciary ... a doubtful ’scape From prison here. Yet when I saw the wall ’Twas home; then, oh, my God! this flip-flap gear 251Shackling my knees—Over! ha, ha! the fools Will never guess that leap. But I must hide: Slip out ere morn: or if not that, be bold, Give myself up to Manuel. Is that hope? Manuel the just. ’Twere best reserve that hope Till others fail. Hark!—steps. Where can I get? Behind this curtain—so. [Hides. Enter Manuel, Philip, Margaret, and Servant. MANUEL (to servt.). Giuseppe, show the duke my room. (To Ph.) Taking us unawares o’erlook, I pray, The want of ceremony. You will find all comfort For sleep or wakefulness. PHILIP. 260This is the flower Of hospitality. Now, for old sakes, I’d beg some meaner shift, to prove me mindful Of ancient benefits. MARGARET. O, be content: My brother’s luxury will not o’erwhelm you With obligation. Man.Rest you well. Good-night! Mar. and Ph. Good-night! [Exit Philip with servant. Man. Margaret! Mar.My brother! Man.You did ill to-night. Mar. Forgive me. I said in jest you had learned your love From Philip. I was sorry. 269Man.Nay, what’s that? Yet ’twas ill said, and may have wounded Philip; Though he must wish us to assume there’s nothing ’Twixt him and Constance: and now he’s our guest We must not let our courtesy be tainted By his own lightness; nay, the tales told of him Are nought to us. He’s of a generous nature, And not forbidding to what faults beset His age and rank. But we make no man better By lower estimation; an open kindliness And trust may help him; let us use such toward him. Mar. I will. But then what was’t I said? Man.Ah! Why, 281Your praise of John Palicio. See you not ’Twill injure me with Hugo? Our relations Are tried by public matters: ’tis in the scope Of private intercourse to ease the strain, Or force the rupture. Mar.Brother, I am very sorry. I thought ... Man.I do not blame your thought. I grant These Spaniards are bad masters. First they wrecked This island to possess it; then the prize, Which kindness might have much enriched, is stripped 290Even to the bone by cruelty and rapine. Their viceroy too, this Hugo—a man who governs But to be governor, and even at that Fails like a fool. To see the folk misruled More grieves me than to see the folk misled. And if they have much cause to rise, there’s none Hath more to lead them, than the native outlaw, Whom you so praised. Re-enter Servant. Mar.Then you forgive me, brother? Man. Well, well, good-night! Mar.Good-night! [Exit. Man.Giuseppe, prepare The little room at the end of the corridor; 300I will sleep there. I shall not want thee more. [Exit servant. It matters not what happens, day by day The rupture grows. ’Tis plain Hugo and I Are foes at heart—and what a pitiful trick To put the question of my marriage by, Withholding his consent just for the thought, That while my happiness hangs on his nod, I must be closer bound to serve his interest, Now, when his credit totters. Doth he not know That honourable minds, thro’ very fear 310Of their self-interest, are thrust away Beyond their counter-judgment? Nay, ’tis clear He falls, he falls; and were’t not now for Constance, I’d gladly see him fall. Palicio comes forward. A woman here! Why, who art thou? Pal.Hush, hush! I am no woman. [Lays his dagger on the table. Draw not your sword. See here my dagger. Man.Ha! And bloodied freshly. Pal.Let me bar the door. [Goes to door. Man. Why, can it be?— Pal.I am Palicio. Man. Thou here! Pal.You see. Man.From prison? Pal.Escaped, thank God! I skirmished with my guards, and being pursued 320Came thro’ your orange garden. Here none will seek me. Hide me! Man.Thee, madman, here? Pal.Ay, call me madman. I am mad, and praise God for it ... if to hate tyrants Be madness, I’m past cure: or if ’tis madness To escape from prison ... Man.Nay, neither. I blamed thee not In these; but that thou thinkest to overbear The troops of Spain with thy small brigand crew: To escape from justice flying to my house,— The chief justiciary. Pal.What will you do? Man. Return thee straight to prison. Pal.First, I beseech you, Help me to bind my wound. 330Man.Art thou much hurt? Pal. A thrust in the arm, a petty prick, which yet Bleeds uncontrolledly. Man.Undo it. It spurts. Hold here thy hand, while with thy handkerchief I bind thy arm. Pal.Look you, ’tis lower down. Man. Peace, man! ’Twill stay the blood to bind thee here. Hast thou no other hurt? Pal.Nay, none but this. And see, ’tis staunched already. I must thank you, Tho’ here your help should end. Call in the hirelings; They’ll not be far. I will go back with them. 340And yet ’twere pity; for ’tis certain death: I have killed three of them. Manuel, I pray you— I pray you, Manuel, crush not all my hopes, My just cause. Give me a sword and a man’s dress, And let me forth to try my fortune! Man.Nay. Pal. Then if I take my dagger and venture out ... [Takes it. I’ll yet escape. Deny me not this chance. See, I’ll not ask your leave, but only go. [Going. Man. Giovanni, stay. Thou hast done me a great wrong In flying here. Why didst thou choose my house? 350Pal. ’Twas as I fled for life: the hue-and-cry Came gathering faster round me: being still clear, And seeing your wall, it seemed my safety lay In that leap, could I make it. Man.Thou’rt the last, And only offspring of a noble stock. The blood that I have staunched in thy veins, Sprang from the heart of Sicily, and flows Redder than mine, tho’ mine too once was mixed, And not unworthily, with thine, and now From my great grandsire’s marriage both our bloods 360Are even as one, and thy blood on my hands Is mine, and mine within my veins is thine. I cannot send thee to thy death, Giovanni; I may not shelter thee from justice: See, Thou hast done me a grievous wrong. Pal.Yet hide me awhile. This house may be my prison. Man.Thou hast this hope: The king being dead ... Pal.Is’t true that Pedro is dead? Man. Ay, true enough. Pal.Then are you free. I am safe. [Puts dagger in his bosom. Man. I say this is thy hope. The king being dead, 370Such offices as hold under the crown Need confirmation. Now I do not say Allegiance lapses; but, if I be quick To guess the new king’s will, that he will change Our viceroy—which I doubt not,—I may be bold Now to withhold my duties from a servant Discredited, contending that they hang Upon my judgment, for my deeds to give After-account. See, ’tis a subtle point I strain for thee, rather than hurt the claim 380Of kinship. Thou shalt be my prisoner For these few days. By chance I have a room Fit for thy lodging: there I’ll shew thee now, And thence thou must not stir. I’ll bring thee food, Look to thy wants, and try to cure thy wound. Thou on thy part must lie as still as one That hushes for his life. What, man; thou’rt faint For loss of blood, and strain? Cannot you stand? Stand up, or I must carry you. Indeed, Carry him I must ... see, now, where be my keys? [Going, carrying Palicio.

Hall in Manuel’s house. MARGARET and CONSTANCE. MARGARET. 390Sweet, happy Constance, tell me why thou sighest. What can’st thou lack? CONSTANCE. I am not very happy. Mar. Not happy, thou? Woe for the world! I thought Love was God’s perfect recipe, to drowse All mortal stings. Yet sainted marriage hath One threat—the loss of liberty: is’t that? It well may fright. To have been a girl with me So long, and make at last the outrageous stroke, And live as do our aunts! Were’t not my brother, I’d kill the man. Con.Margaret! Mar.Well mayst thou sigh: I can sigh for thee. 400Con.I should love to hear thee. Thou owest me sighs, for mine were thoughts of thee. Mar. Because I love not? Hast thou forgot already Life may be tolerable for a woman Without thy joy? Con.You treat poor Livio Unkindly, Margaret. Mar.Now, if that’s the grief, We have threshed it out before. Con.I shall not spare you, Till you are kinder. Mar.Yet if I were kinder, And he should build a hope upon that kindness, Until it proved unkinder than unkindness? Con. He loves you well. Mar.No better than the others; 411Than Ventimiglia loves, or Chiaramonte, Good Michael Rosso, or the impudent Blasco, Or my new courtier Ferdinand. Con.He loves With all his heart. Life is as tedious to him As to the dark and dusty wheel, which jerks Behind the dial-face, until he see you; When for his joy you give him but disdain. Mar. Thou didst not tell him thou wouldst speak for him? Con. Why not? Mar.Now I, Constance, have something fresh: A mystery. Con.A mystery? 420Mar.Yes, a mystery. Guess what it is. Con.How should I guess? Mar.Indeed, Guessing would never wind it. Con.Then, prithee, tell me. Mar. I died to tell thee ere thou camest, and now I grudge it sadly. Yet, for the fresh mount ’Twill give thy thoughts, I’ll tell. ’Twas yesternight, Just on the stroke of one ... Con.’Tis not a ghost? Mar. If after all ’twere but a ghost! Con.Come, tell me. Mar. Thou wilt not breathe a word? Con.No, not a word. Mar. Thou know’st the casement of my bedroom looks 430Across the court. There as I stood last night, Watching the moon awhile, ere I shut out The sleepless splendour from my dreams, I heard A heavy step pass down the gallery. ’Tis Manuel, I thought, who goes to lie In the little chamber at the back,—for Philip Had his;—but, for some strangeness in the step Pricked my attention, and to content my thought, I lent my ear to the sound, until it reached The door at the end: there, standing by the window 440I saw him plain: ’twas he, but in his arms A woman, fainting as I thought, or dead. Her arms hung loose, and o’er his shoulder thrown Her head fell back. Con.A woman! art thou sure? Mar. He could not carry a ghost. Besides, this morning I watched him: he took thither meat and drink, And locked the door, and strictly bade the servants They should not enter. Con.Hast thou questioned him? Mar. I have not so much as let him speak with me. He might forbid me: and, O my curiosity, I must know more. 450Con.What dost thou think to learn? Mar. I have neither guess nor hope; I lay awake An hour, and thought of fifty things, not one Of any likelihood. In all romance No lady in distress ere came at midnight To the house of the chief justice. I could wish This beauteous maiden were a young princess Fled o’er the seas disguised. Con.Then thou couldst see What she was like. Mar.Why, no,—how could I see? I only saw that she was dark. Con.Thou saidst That she was beautiful. 460Mar.Of course she is young And beautiful. Why,—you are not jealous, Constance? Con. Not jealous, no. Mar.And the only pity of it Is that she’ll prove in the end a poor relation Fall’n to our care, or some more hapless girl Left on the doorstep dying. Con.In such case, What were the need of secrecy? Mar.I wish I had never told thee aught. Why shouldst thou fancy Impossibilities? Con.What is impossible? Mar. I fear now that the sight of thy old love, 470Philip the false, hath turned thy happier trust. Thou’rt changed. Con.Nay, nay: I am not: and yet ’tis true His coming is my trouble. [Weeps. Mar.Forgive me, sweetest. Con. Margaret, you know I have none at all but you To unfold my heart to: only you can tell What I must feel at his return: you know How far I loved, how much I was deceived. His oaths of faith you heard from me, and shared The joy of my delusion: and at last, When he deserted me, you made your heart 480The prison of my sorrows: you exhorted,— O, you advised me well,—Be sure, you said, Love that so breaks cannot be trusted more. You bade me cast it off like an ill dream. You found what life he led: how he profaned His honourable passion in the play Of errant gallantries. All that sad time I leaned on you, and ’twas your friendship gave The occasions whence my love with Manuel sprung. You led me still, you gave me confidence; 490Your comfort turned to joy, Manuel was mine. When suddenly on some mysterious cause He holds aloof: my joy is bid await. O, Margaret, if you understood love’s joy, How closely ’tis inwoven with fear to lose, You would not wonder that I tremble, seeing This shadow blot my sunshine, that my fear Discolours every circumstance. To me The common course of things on which men count Is the only miracle, all chances else As they are feared are likely. O, do not blame me. 501Philip is like an evil spirit beside me That stands to smile on what I dread to think. Mar. Philip being false can give no cause to doubt Of Manuel’s faith. Con.I doubt him not: and yet If I speak of my brother you only laugh, But if you speak of yours ... Mar.Round, round again. Betwixt our brothers grant some difference. Thy Livio is a boy of slender parts, Led by his passions. Manuel is a man 510Austere and stern; he is above suspicion. Con. I do not doubt his truth, but find such sternness Unkind to love. My brother’s love for you Is simple: Manuel’s love hath some reserve; A veil, behind which, since I have never seen, I have dreamed or feared a terror lay: ofttimes When I have been with him, a pleasant hour Has ended suddenly, as if his spirit Was angered, and withdrew: then in his eyes Is nothing left but barren contemplation, 520To which I am an object as another; Until he sighs, as conscious of the change. The disappointment of our marriage brings Scarce a regret to him: I heard him speak Late to my father of it, as ’twere a thing He held indifferently. There is some secret Which I would know: maybe this is a clue. Mar. What is the clue? Con.This lady. Mar.O, thou’rt sick. But I can cure thee, wilt thou do my bidding. Con. What would you bid? Mar.Give rein to jealousy, 530Ay, spur it on to falling. Fear the worst, Believe the worst. Thou shalt suspect my brother; He trifles, loves this lady: choose your tale: Thou wilt not doubt again. Con.I do not doubt him. Nay, I will bid him tell me all. Mar.And so Betray thy doubt to him. Be wiser, madam! Look to thy cure: indulge thy jealousy: To which end I encourage it. Indeed, I am come to think there’s cause, and thy suspicion Hath much enhanced my mystery. Go thou home: 540There make thyself unhappy. I meanwhile Will root this out, and since I am housekeeper I can go where I will. Con.I pray thee, Margaret ... Mar. I must be jealous where my brother is wronged. Thou art the accuser, and the evidence Tells now for thee: ’tis my part to acquit us. Hinder me not. Con.When wilt thou know? Mar.Maybe ’Tis as thou fearest. Con.Wilt thou mock me so? Mar. I bid thee go. Be sure I’ll come to thee, Or send thee word. Con.But when? Mar.I make no promise. 550I cannot pity thee, and till thou goest I can do nothing. Con.Promise me to send. Mar. I have promised that. Farewell! Con.To-day? Mar.To-day. Trust me, I go at once. [Exeunt.

Room in the Palace. Enter BLASCO. BLASCO. I have sucked this Ferdinand. Duke Philip bears Secret despatches sealed, not to be broken Save on emergency; from which I gather That if emergency arise, this Philip Will be our viceroy. Palicio being escaped Must make the emergency.—Then, where am I? 560Packed off to Spain with Hugo’s broken service, To answer his impeachment. ’Tis high time I cast by these old friends, such as they are, And turn my face to the rising sun, this Philip. I see the way too. Manuel’s love for Constance Hath roused again his former love for her To a burning jealousy; if I feed that I win his ear, and make my foe his foe. As for Palicio, should he hold back I have a way with him, and can contrive 570He shall seize Hugo, or himself be seized, As may suit best. The mischief set on foot, Philip must break his seals; and I come in With him as friendly to the people’s rights, And trusted servant of the crown. By heav’n, I shall deserve their credit. See, here he comes. Enter Philip. Good morrow to your grace. PHILIP. Good morrow, Blasco. Bl. I served thy father well. Ph.I know it, Blasco. What of it now? Bl.I do not urge my service Looking for recompense; I do not ask 580So much as that your grace remember me At court, to mention my forgotten name In the new king’s ear; as, When I was in Sicily I saw old Blasco; nay, ’twas for good-will I served, and now ’tis that I want a master Which bids me speak. If but your grace could find me Employment worth my wits, I would serve well. Ph. I’ll think of it. Bl.Let your grace know my life Spent in this court should make my loyalty More than a counsellor. In this rebellion 590I know where Hugo fails, where Manuel leans; Could blow upon the flame or snuff it out, Could bring you to the leaders. Ph.Honest Blasco, Thou know’st the world. Bl.I know that one who comes To make peace in a quarrel that he knows not, Needs other knowledge than he is like to get From either party. The strings of policy Are coiled in private chambers; if your grace Would pull at these ... Ph.True. If thou serve me thus I’ll take instruction. Bl.Let your grace now prove me In any question. 600Ph.This, then. We in Spain Supposed that your revolt stood on two legs, Over-taxation and the hate of Hugo; And had its claim for justice countenanced By Manuel’s voice: but coming here, I find That he and Hugo’s daughter are betrothed. Now here’s a private matter, which, I take it, Involves the public. Say, doth Manuel play His policy on Hugo, or hath Hugo Trumped up a match with Manuel to support His failing credit? Bl.They are not betrothed, your grace. 611What passes between lovers is unknown: But this is sure, Hugo withholds consent, And doth so to win Manuel to his side. Ph. Doth not that win him? Bl.Nay. Ph.Then I conclude He loves not. Bl.Nay, indeed; it gives me pain To witness his indifference; for the lady Deserves the best. Ph.Stay, count. Remember In what has passed that word may well blame me. Bl. I hearken not to idle tales. Your grace 620May be punctilious; but in Manuel’s instance There’s no excuse. Ph.I care not what men say. And now it hurts me more to hear thee blame Another for the fault I stumbled in, Than if ’twas said of me. I need thy knowledge. Look, thou canst serve me; and I let none serve For nothing. Take my purse (gives it); thou mayst have need To spend so much for me. Bl.I thank your grace. I shun no obligation, and I am poor. Ph. True, all men are so. Come now to my chamber, Where we may talk in private. 630Bl. (aside). ’Tis well begun. [Exeunt.

A room in Manuel’s house. PALICIO reclining on a long chair half-dressed. Daylight nearly excluded: one candle burns. PALICIO. I seem to have lived a life in these few days; To have died, and waked in no less strange a place, Than where I think departed spirits will fly In doom of death and unendurable silence After their day of doing. Oh! ’tis strange What just the shedding a few drops of blood Will bring about—to loosen a handkerchief, And on her undiscoverable journey The soul sets forth. Nay, but to bleed so far 640As I have done, breeds fancies much akin To death; else would my spirit more revolt ’Gainst this enforcèd quiet and idleness: This blocking of my life just on the stir And hurry of hope, when all my operations Pressed to success. I am surely very weak, That I can lie and fret not, when I hear The distant cries, passing from street to street, Which tell how prompt and ripe my people were For this their lost occasion. (Knocking heard.) Some one knocks. Nay, the key turns. ’Tis Manuel. MARGARET (at door). 650May I come in? Pal. (aside). Ah! who is this? Who’s there? [Covering himself. Mar. (entering). ’Tis only I, Manuël’s sister. I have come to see If I can do you any service, lady. Pal. He did not send you? Mar.Nay, but I may hope I shall not seem to intrude, thus waiting on you. Pal. (aside). What’s to be done? Mar.The room is dark. I fear you are ill. Pal. I am hurt and must not stir. Mar.Then lying here In pain you must want help and company. ’Tis well I came. May I draw back the curtains? 660Pal. Nay, there was reason, madam, why your brother Shut door and window: I have enemies. Mar. Alas, alas! I can shew equal care. First to relock the door. (Aside, going to door.) She is a lady. Pal. (aside). ’Tis the famous Margaret. Mar. Now let me light these candles. [Stage brightens. Pal. (aside). Surely in God’s paradise, that rest of souls, His angels and pure spirits look and speak And move like this. O wonder! Wherefore comes she? And how to keep her but a moment longer 670From the discovery? and how to tell her? Mar. Now while I sit. [Finds gown on the chair. ... Why, oh! ’tis drenched with blood, Your gown. Are you so hurt? Pal.A sword-thrust, lady. Mar. A sword-thrust. Ah! Pal.Thou earnest unadvised, Lady: I wore the gown; if that deceived thee. Yet ’twas but a disguise to save my life. I am Palicio. Mar.Sir! Pal.Escaped from prison And my pursuers hither. Thy brother’s kindness Hides me from death awhile. Mar.I pray thy pardon. ’Twas not mere idle curiosity 680That made my fault; but made I’ll mend it, sir, As soon as may be. [Going. Pal. (springing up). Stay, nay, put down that key. I bid thee stay. Thou hast forced my secret. Hear The whole, and when thou hast heard I shall not fear The unlocking of thy lips. Mar.Why, sir, the thing My brother means to hide is hidden to me. Pal. ’Tis not alone my life ... Mar. Ah! see the blood is trickling down thy hand! Pal. Pest! it hath started freshly. Mar.Cannot I help thee? Pal. Ay, ’tis the bandage on this arm. Mar.To tie it? Pal. My moving hath displaced it. 690Mar.See, alas! The ill I have done. Sit, I will bind it for thee. Pal. Myself I cannot. Mar.Nay. Tell thou me how. Pal. Here, round this pad. As tightly as thou wilt. Nay, tighter yet. Mar.Shall I not harm thee? Pal.Tighter. Mar. I cannot pull it tighter. Pal.Knot it so. ’Twill do: the blood hath ceased. Mar.Oh, I am glad. Do not thou stir: see, now, to wash thine arm, I’ll bring thee water. [Goes for it. Pal. (aside). By heaven, where have I lived, Like a wild beast beneath the open skies, 700In dens and caves, and never known the taste Of this soft ravishment? The rich of the earth Are right: their bars and bolts are wisely wrought, Having such treasure in their closed chambers. Mar. Here ’tis. Reach forth thine arm. Pal.Nay, give’t to me. Stain not thy hands. Mar.I pray thee. Pal.As thou wilt. Mar. How did it happen? Pal.Wouldst thou hear it? Mar.Tell me. Pal. I had been two days in prison ... Mar.Tell me, first, How could they catch thee? Pal.Treachery: I was taken By Hugo’s soldiers as I knelt at mass. 710Three stole behind me, seized me by the arms, And dragged me forth. I knew I was betrayed; I had entered but that morning in the town; I was not known to them, nor did the hirelings Look on my face. They led me straight to prison, Thrust me in a cell so dank and dark and small, That to be built alive into the grave Were not more horrible. Mar.Hugo would have killed thee. Pal. Or let me starve; or else some gentle mercy; Gouged my live eyeballs out, or lopped my hands. Mar. How couldst thou ’scape? Pal.Now thou wilt see our people 721Have their account. The second night my gaoler Brought in a woman with a deed to sign. I knew my hope, and to her feigned reproach Answered in anger back: but when she bade I took the deed, and felt beneath the paper A dagger’s edge. That was my key to heaven, Could I strike silently. To make occasion, I thrust her from me with an oath: she fell, As well she knew, against the foe, who stooping, 730Stooped to his death and fell without a groan. Then quick she doffed her gown for my disguise, Telling me in few words how this was planned By friends who had seen me taken: they had not means For present rescue, but discovering soon Who had betrayed me, used his cursed name With the governour of the prison, to admit Her, his pretended wife, that she might claim Settlement of some debt before I died. So was it paid. Then we went forth together, 740I in her woman’s garments, following her, Who wore the habit of the soldier slain: And she went clear: but I, for some suspicion Was questioned at the gate. Of those two men, One I slew straight: the other, as I struck, Thrust thro’ my arm, yet not so hurtfully But that he fell for it too. But thence alarm Was given: I fled pursued, and gat me clear, Leaping your garden wall. Mar.Who was the woman? Pal. One of our people. Mar.May her name be told? Pal. I never heard it. 750Mar.Yet she knew thee well. I had been proud to have done her deed. I think There are not many men as brave as she. Pal. O, lady, there are many, women and men, Sworn to risk life in our good cause. Mar.Alas, That such fine courage should be so misled! Pal. Misled? how, if I lead it? Mar.I had forgot. Pardon me, sir. It was my brother’s word. Pal. Ay, ’tis his word. And yet I honour Manuel. Were’t not for him there scarce would be a man 760Of all our people who would reverence Justice and order, and those other names Of social welfare. ’Tis to him alone We have looked to give us these. But if he stand Where he can take our tyrants by the arm And show them baits of righteousness, and lead them Where they should go, shall we who lie beneath Forbear to sting the laggard heel of justice, Or think it crime to obstruct the path of wrong? I blame not him that from his higher place 770He finds offence in outcry and disorder: To such as without loss or shame outride The storms of shifting fortune this is easy. Mar. What dost thou but exasperate ill-will? Pal. Already our bread has been untaxed two days. Mar. And may be two days more. Pal.I have better hope, Or had: for if I had once provoked the Spaniard To set his troops against us, all the nobles, Who now retired hold neutral parliament, Would then have joined the people, and compelled 780The justice of our claim by force of arms. Mar. All, say’st thou? Pal.All save one or two, who are bought With Hugo’s money. Mar.Say’st thou bought? Pal.O lady, Unto their great dishonour they are bought, With sweated pence wrung from the labourer, Ere he can buy a loaf to feed his children Out of the corn his hands have sown and reaped. Is not this shame? Mar.’Tis shame. Pal.And shall Palicio See this thing done, because he hath not office, Or those few paltry florins, which might turn The scale for poor Sicilians? 790Mar.Ah, indeed, I knew, I felt that thou wert right; and now I see it: I never blamed thee. Pal.No, nor Manuel Blames me at heart, tho’ he forbid my means. Think, had I kept my old estate, and he Had fallen as I, should I not do as he, And he as I am doing? Mar.Oh, I think ’Tis nobler to be poor. To share the suffering Of them we pity ranks above redress. I am come to envy thee. Pal.And certain it is, 800They who have least to lose will venture most. Mar. Yet those that have can give. What’s the best hope Of this rebellion? Pal.We would make thy brother Viceroy in place of Hugo. Mar.Will that be? Pal. Here I know nothing, save that nought is done. Mar. Is there no leader then but thee? Pal.The people Are limbs without a head. Mar.When will thy wound Be healed? Pal. Thy brother says that any surgeon Could mend it quickly, but that his own skill, Which knows the injury, was never practised 810To find out and to bind the wounded vessel, Which, being unhelped of art, may run to death. Mar. To death! And hath he sent no surgeon? Pal.Nay, That were the greater risk for him and me. Mar. Not so, if he could cure thee. I shall bring one. [As going. Pal. It cannot be. Mar.Thou mayst believe there’s none In all Palermo but myself could do it: Yet can I do it. Pal.Speak with Manuel first. Mar. Oh! I shall tell him all. He will consent. ’Tis well I came. No surgeon for thee! Ah! I go. Pal. Thou wilt return? 820Mar.Be sure, be sure. And with the leech. [Exit. Pal.She is gone. [Scene shuts across.

In Manuel’s house. MARGARET and MANUEL meeting. MARGARET. Brother, what wilt thou say? Wilt thou forgive me? Hear me confess. MANUEL. What now, my mischief-maker? Mar. I have seen Palicio. Man.Hey! ’twas thy evil genius Led thee that way. Mar.I thinking him a woman, Offered some service: whereupon he told me Who he was, all his story, and of his wound. Man. I am sorry; I should have warned thee, for the knowledge Makes thee so far accomplice; and I know not How ’twill be taken when ’tis known. 830Mar.O, brother, Thou hast done nobly. Man.I will tell to thee My motives. Mar.Nay, I need no motives. Man.Hear them. Palicio’s life is forfeit, for he has killed Three of his guards: but to the dangerous deed He had provocation, such as I should hold Clears him of crime: wherefore I take upon me To force a loan of Justice while she sleeps, For fear a thief should rob her: to this, moreover, The claim of kinship binds me,—nay, be patient, 840And hear me out.—Already our disorders Have been reported at the Spanish court; The enquiry set on foot will much endamage Hugo’s good name: I doubt not we shall have Another viceroy, and the revolution Will justify the movers. Mar.Oh! all that, Be as it may, will never cure his wound. He needs a surgeon: we must find a surgeon. Man. No: he must lie concealed till I procure His pardon. His discovery now were death. Mar. But if I bring one secretly? 850Man.How secretly? Better cry down the streets the man is here: That might escape attention. Mar.I know a man. Have I not sometimes shewn thee certain sonnets Writ in Sicilian speech? Man.Eh! Michael Rosso? Mar. ’Tis he. I think he’d love to do my bidding In a more dangerous matter. Give me leave, I’ll bring him here to-night. Man.I had thought of him, But shrank from taxing his good-will. And yet— (Aside.) For his own sake ’twere kind ... and Margaret asks it ... 860Secrets, they say, discover sympathies.— (Aloud.) Ay, ’tis well thought of. Mar.I can answer for him. Man. I see. Yet there’s no cause why he should know. Escort him blindfold hither; let Palicio Have his face covered. Let him ask no questions: And when ’tis done convey him blindfold back. ’Twere best he should not know. Mar.O, brother, I thank thee. Man. Why, girl, thou’rt crazed. Mar.May I not go at once? Man. Nay, wait till dusk; and see, take here my seal, Since thou must go alone: ’twill be thy freedom 870From any questionings of any people. Use all precautions, and impose on Rosso Sacredest secrecy: ’tis thou and he Must carry it thro’. Be careful. Mar.I will put on Some common clothing, and disguise my face. I thank thee. [Exit. Man.The girl’s in love. Now, bravo Rosso! I wish thee well. There’s not a purer spirit Fleshed in all Sicily; nay, nor a man I’d sooner call brother. Why, ’twas my choice, Long urged in vain. That chanceth in an hour 880Which comes not in nine years. ’Tis very true, Fancy resents all judgment, and another’s Will often kill it quite. Now, when I looked Rather for anything than my own wish,—heigh-ho! ’Tis I that stand in the way. I must discourage it. Enter Philip (with some papers). Ah, Philip. PHILIP. Let me give you back the papers. I have read them. Man.Well? Ph.The viceroy’s guilt is plain. Your purpose cannot be to press this count. Man. If the complaints, which I have already made, Be quashed at court, I shall. Ph.’Tis peculation 890So gross, ’twould ruin Hugo to expose it. Wished you to break with him,—yet his disgrace Cannot be nothing to you: I should marvel You had no associations, no affections, Shocked at the thought. Man.To interests manifold As manifest, Justice is blind. If Spain Remove not Hugo on the charges laid, I have shewn thee what’s to follow. Would you avert it, Press his dismissal. I must to the palace. Guard thou the papers for me till I am back. [Exit. Ph. These papers are conviction. Blasco is right: 901He loves not. That is clear; for he would ruin Her father. Then again my rivalry Avowed,—ay, if he had an ear, avowed,— He doth not see. So cold, how could he win her? Or wish to win her? She is mine.—And yet I would ’Twere any man but Manuel. Ah! who comes? ’Tis she. Now may I prove her. Enter Constance with Servant. CONSTANCE (to servt.). If she be not within, prithee enquire 909Where she is gone. I will await thee here. [Exit servt. I have been most foolish. (Seeing Philip.) Philip! Ph.Yes, ’tis I. Constance. Con.What wouldst thou? Ph. (kneeling). I entreat a favour, Which is to me the one boon in the world. Con. Rise, sir, what is’t? Ph.That I may speak, nor leave Love’s wound unhealed. Con.’Twere well to seal forgiveness, Companion of forgetfulness. Say, therefore. The few words that are due. Ph.Tho’ I repent, Repentance cannot own forgetfulness. It pleads forgiveness in the name of love. Con. How in that name? Ph. Constance, I love thee still. Con.Sir! 920Ph.Oh! ’tis true ... Reproach me not, Constance: my evil life I have quite renounced. I used it but to learn The wisdom of that other. I come back From folly and idleness and evil days. Whate’er hath been, Constance, I have not left thee: There hath been nothing near thee, nothing like thee, Nothing but thee: and I return to find thee More beautiful than ever ... Con.Pray you, sir, Remember. Ph.Let me speak. Con.When thou didst ask to speak, I looked for that one word, which thou in honour 931Wert, to amend thy silence, bound to speak. ’Twas in thy power to salve thy breach of faith With full and free renouncement. Thine earlier ill I had then forgiven: for if thou art not changed, Philip, I am: then I was ignorant— Maybe we both were—both mistook; but thou Didst add an injury, and to-day thou addest Another worse. Knowing me now betrothed, How canst thou offer to renew thy love? 940Ph. O, Constance, Manuel doth not, cannot, love thee As I. Con. I pray he doth not. Ph.Hear me, Constance! Con. Nay, sir; no more. [Exit. Ph.My passion hath aroused Passion in her; and that must work for me. Is it likely such a temper would sit down And eat cold fare at Manuel’s feast of reason? She will be mine. Ay, tho’ she said betrothed— Once ’twas to me. So now to see her father; He’s but a market where I rule with ease. The papers! By heav’n, I had left them lying! [Stoops. Ha! Blood! blood upon the floor! I have knelt in blood— 951Here were an omen, were I superstitious.— And scarcely dry. This city hath fallen accurst. There is nothing spoke of ... Ah! but what if this Should be the track they seek? Palicio Took shelter here! Impossible. Even Blasco Thought not so ill of Manuel. Yet the other Under the wall, and this within the house ... They tally. Peace! I will go search the garden. [Exit.

Room in Manuel’s house. PALICIO as before (sitting). PALICIO. To stand true to a cause because ’tis noble, 960Tho’ it be thankless; to command a people Against a tyranny, and teach their arms To enforce the reasonable rights of life, Beneath the crushing bond of wealth and power;— To be an outcast, but to leave a name Untarnished and beloved, remembered long;— That was my choice, my hope. Can I now waver? Shall I—having so well begun— Step up into a throne above the throng, And smiling on them from the hated height, 970Take life at ease? Nay, when ’tis reasoned so, ’Tis hideous.—But, oh! thou treacherous enemy, Thou selfish and unanswerable passion, That bluntest resolution, and criest down The voice of virtue! Margaret, Margaret! Would I had never seen thee, or believed I could not win thee. If I now could fly, I might go free. Squarcialupu, who has appeared at the window, gradually thrusting his head between the curtains, and peering round, enters. SQUARCIALUPU. Sq.Captain! Pal.Ha! Squarcialupu! Why, what! how com’st thou here? what dost thou? Sq.Hush! Pal. Begone, I pray. Sq.Nay, now I have found thee, captain. Thine arm is it only? Pal.A prick in the arm. 980Sq.So, so! Then thou canst come. Pal.Tell me, how didst thou learn That I was here? Sq.We guessed it from thy track. Pal. O, God! I’m tracked? Sq.Thy blood is on the wall. I undertook to tell thee. In the dusk I scaled this window at the back of the house: Had my old luck, captain. Make haste and fly. Pal. Stay, stay! I cannot. Is it known to any I am hiding here? Sq.What use to stay for that? Come ere they know it. Pal.I cannot. 990Sq.I can help thee. Pal. Nay, ’tis not that, altho’ I am bled to death. ’Tis honour holds me. Sq.Honour will not help Manuel nor thee, if they should search his house. But if thou fliest ... Pal.I may not. Sq.That’s no word Where life’s at stake. What shall I tell thy men? Pal. Where are they? Sq.At the news of thy escape They gathered on the hills, and wait thee there. I met a man in the town an hour ago, Who said he had seen thee riding on the road 1000To Monreale. All the folk’s astir. Pal. I cannot come. Sq.Give me not such a word. Who would believe I had seen thee, if I said Palicio lieth safe in Manuel’s house, And saith he cannot come? Pal.Begone, I bid thee, Lest thou be found here. Sq.Nay, I’ll not be gone. ’Tis but some twenty feet: I’ll lift thee down. The street is watched. Pal.Hark, Squarcialupu, tell me; Is’t true I’m tracked? Sq.’Tis certain. Pal.Then I think If Manuel knew of this ... Hark, I will come. 1010Go thou and tell my men that I will come. To-morrow morning let them look to find me At Monreale. If I come not then Let none look for me more. But if I come All shall be well. Go thou and tell them this. Sq. Come, captain, while thou mayst. Pal.I bid thee go. Obey me at once. Sq. (whistles at window and is answered). I have thy promise. To-morrow we shall see thee. [Exit. Pal.But for this cursed wound I had fled. To cure it must I risk my soul? 1019Fool that I was, had I escaped with him I might have found a surgeon—now when she comes I will say nothing. Nothing ... yet, that’s no hope; For seeing her I must love her: and if I fail To win her wholly, I must lose my soul She is here. (Aside.) Ah! what is this? Enter Margaret, with Rosso blindfold. MARGARET (to Rosso). You now are in the room. Stand in your place. While I make ready. (To Pal.) Let me wrap this cloth About thy face. Lie ever still, and speak not. (To Rosso.) Your eyes, sir, are at liberty. ROSSO (unbandaging). Coming hither, I thought ’twould make a pretty poem to tell 1030Of one, whose cruel mistress ne’er allowed The meanest favour, till he dreamed one night That he was blind, and she, in pity of him, Led him forth by the hand where he would go, But left him suddenly; whereat he awoke, And wished no more to see ... Mar. Now, sir Apollo, come. Here lies your patient. Give him your aid, and tell your poem after. Ros. Well, let us see. Ay, here is all I need. Set them thus on the table, and here the light, 1040So. (arranging). ’Tis the right arm. (unbinding.) Ah! when was this done? Mar. Have you forgot, sir? questions are forbidden. Ros. See, thou must hold his arm for me. Press here Thy fingers; firmly,—so. Thou dost not faint At sight of blood? Mar.Nay, nay. And yet I know not. If there be much, I faint. Ros. (operating). I had forgotten I might not question;—’tis a surgeon’s habit.— First,—for where all are eager with their tale,— ’Tis only courteous to invite the telling:— But chiefly—that it stablishes his judgment— 1050Built on appearances,—and banishes Conjecture from experience;—as ’twould now For me,—should this man say,—’twas yesterday The wound was made;—and he that dealt it me Stood on my left,—and thro’ my arm outstretched,— In attitude of striking at another,— Thrust with—a sword.—Stir not, ’tis nearly done.— But I withdrew my arm ere he his weapon.— Loose not thy grasp: loose not! Mar.Sir, my attention Was taken by your story. Never speak: 1060’Twill mar your work. Ros.’Tis a small thing. ’Tis done. ’Twas an unlucky lunge that lanced thee there. (To Mar.) What thinkest thou of my story? Mar.’Twas but guessing. Ros. Nay, inference. ’Twere guess to say, the skill Which staunched the running blood, but could no more, Might be thy brother’s: that this sunburnt arm, Fine skin, and youthful fibre, were the body Of John Palicio. Pal. (discovering). I am betrayed! Ros.Not so: Then had I held my tongue. Pal.True.—What’s thy name? Ros. My name is Rosso. Sling thine arm across: 1070There must it rest until the wound be healed. Mar. You have guessed the secret, sir, which we withheld In your respect. This is my brother’s house; This is Palicio. Guard now what you have learned As closely, I pray, as if we had freely told it. Ros. Not to thee, lady, though in this and all I am thy servant; yet not now to thee I speak, but to Giovànn Palicio; To whom I say he need not ask of me Promise or oath. The good I am proud to have done I shall not spoil by blabbing. 1080Pal.Thank thee, Rosso. Ros. Noble and brave Palicio, mayst thou prosper. [Bandaging his own eyes. Pal. Thank thee, I thank thee, Rosso. So now my arm Is mended. By heaven! this surgery hath a trick Worth knowing, could one learn it easily. Ros. (blindfold). Come, lady, and lead me forth. Mar.Why, what is this? You know your way: there’s nothing now to hide. Ros. Didst thou not bargain with me to lead me back? Mar. But there’s no need. Ros.Yet will I claim my fee. Where is thy hand? Mar.Sir, you but trifle. Ros.And thou Refusest me in a trifle? Then I will dare (unbandaging) 1091To raise my terms. If I may kiss thy hand I’ll be content. Mar.’Tis I, sir, should kiss yours. ’Tis that hath earned the homage: and I’ll be kind. That hath done well; and thus I kiss it. (Kisses Rosso’s hand.) Now, Go, go in peace: thou’rt paid. [Making him go out. [Exit Rosso. Pal. (sitting).Why didst thou that? Mar. He loves me. Pal.Wouldst thou be as kind to me, If I should love thee? Mar.But he sends me sonnets. Pal. I could write sonnets. Mar.Ah, but his are writ In pure Sicilian. Pal.’Tis my proper tongue. 1100Mar. I have kept my promise, sir, and now must leave. Your wound is healed. Pal.I fear I scarce can thank thee, If ’tis thy word to go. Or, if thou stayest But to cure wounds,—I have another wound I shewed thee not, which hath a deeper seat: This hand may cure it. Mar.Nay, what mean you, sir? Pal. Margaret, I love thee. There, thou hast it all. Thou hast stolen my soul. I thought—my pride, my hope— O, I thought wrong—’tis nothing. All I have done, Or would do, I cast aside: I love thee only. 1010Mar. Giovanni. Pal.O, ’tis true, there’s nothing noble, Beautiful, sacred, dear, familiar to me, I hold now at a straw’s worth: body and soul I am thine, Margaret, I am thine. O, answer me! Mar. Giovanni, ’tis so strange. ’Tis best I go. Pal. Thou didst kiss Rosso’s hand. Mar.For love of thee. Didst thou not guess? Pal.O, then, my dearest, kiss me Now for myself. Can it be true thou lovest me? Mar. Alas! ’tis learned too quickly. Pal.Can I think it, Spite of my savage life, my outlawry, My poverty? Mar.O, what are these? 1120Pal.Indeed, My blood is noble. Mar.These are not the checks Or lures of love. Nay, what is noble blood? What were’t to be a lion, and to fly The hunter like a hare? And if man shew Less fearless fierce and hungry for the right Than doth a beast for food, what is his title To be God’s image worth? That best nobility Hath no more claim. Pal.But canst thou share my life? Mar. I am restless for it. Pal.Leave thy rank? thy wealth? Mar. I have lived too long that counterfeit of life. I’ll strive like thee: something I’ll do, like thee, 1132To lessen misery. Nay, if man’s curse Hang in necessity, I have the heart To combat that, and find if in some part Fate be not vulnerable. Pal.O joy, my dearest: I wronged thee ages by a moment’s thought That thou wouldst shrink ... Then is our marriage fixed? Mar. There’s none can hinder it. Pal.O, blessed joy! Yet how can I be sure, love, that thou knowest, 1140Finding the word so easy, what a mountain There lies to lift? Pledging to me and mine Thy heart this hour, a hundred thousand stings Will plague thee from this moment, to drive thee back. Mar. Try me, Giovanni. Pal.Wilt thou aid me, love, To fly to-night? By morning I may meet My men at San Martino: all my schemes May yet be saved. Mar.Ah! wilt thou go, Giovanni? Thou’rt yet too weak. Pal.My presence, not my strength, Is needed. Mar. Alas! I fear. Pal.What, Margaret, dost thou fear? Mar. Only for thee. Yet go; I can be with thee 1151By noon. My brother has a little house At Monreale, where I am used to stay When the wish takes me. There I’ll go to-morrow, And thence can visit thee. Thou didst not mean I should not come? I shall not hinder thee. Pal. Nay, nay. Mar.I’ll let thee from the house to-night, And give thee money which will aid thee well. My brother need know nothing. I can make The journey thither in an hour, and choose My time to beg his grace. 1160Pal.What do I owe thee! Freedom, and life, and love,—thy love ... O, Margaret, What I shall do will pay thee. Mar.I must leave: For Manuel else will question of my stay. Pal. My treasure lost so soon! Mar.I go to save What we have won. Farewell. Pal.Say at what hour I may go hence; and how. Mar.At dead of night: ’Tis safest then. Pal.And wilt thou come thyself? Mar. When the church bell with double stroke hath tolled The death-knell of to-morrow’s second hour, 1170While its last jar yet shelters in the ear, Listen: and at thy door when thou shalt catch A small and wakeful noise, such as is made By the sharp teeth of an unventurous mouse, Scraping his scanty feast when all is still, Come forth. Thou’lt meet my hand, and at the gate I’ll give thee what I have. Tied in thy bundle Will be a letter shewing thee the place Where thou must send me tidings. Now, farewell. Pal. Yet not farewell. Mar.To-night I shall not see thee: 1180Nor must thou speak. So, till to-morrow’s sun Lasts our farewell. Pal.Then with to-morrow, Margaret, My life begins. Mar.O, ’tis the greater joy For me than thee. Pal.Ay, for the giver ever Hath the best share. And thus I kiss thee, love. Farewell. Mar.Be ready. Pal.Trust me. Mar.And take thy dagger. Farewell. [Going.

Hall in Manuel’s house. MANUEL and MARGARET. MANUEL. Nay, ’twas ill done. The open window shews He made a breakneck leap into the street. I searched the room, in case he might have left 1190Some explanation written: there was none. I am vexed. ’Tis a most graceless breach of trust. MARGARET. What promise made he? Man.None was asked. The knowledge Of duty were enough to bind a man Far less obliged. And then ’tis thankless, Margaret. Twice have we saved his life: first I, then thou: And while we sleep he flies. I blame myself, I should have pledged his word. Mar.Hadst thou so done, He would have stayed. Man.I know not. Now he is gone ... Go set his room as if he had never been. 1200We must forget the matter. I have summons From Hugo, and must leave. Mar.And when I have done Thy bidding, may I go to Monreale? Man. You wish it? Mar.Yes. Man.What calls you there? Mar.A visit. I’ll take Lucia, and can ride Rosamund. Man. Nay, nay, I would not have it. Thou wilt meet With Rosso’s people, maybe Rosso himself; And he might misinterpret ... and I think So soon after your game of blindman’s buff, That since thou canst not love him ... Mar.Manuel, I promise— 1210Man. I want no promises; but if thou goest Remember ... Mar. Why, I’ll promise ... Man.Nay, I bid. Only be wise. Wilt thou be back to-night? Mar. To-morrow, may I stay so long? Man.Ay, stay. Have good care of thyself. Farewell. [Exit. Mar.Farewell. (Calling.) Lucia, Lucia; come, Lucia, come! Enter Lucia. LUCIA. My lady. Mar. To horse, Lucia! we start at once. Order the horses. Lu.Holy Mary, defend us! It cannot be thou meanest ... Mar.What is this, now? Last night didst thou not promise? Lu.If I did, ’Twas madness: think of the risk. 1220Mar.I take the risk. Lu. Consider. Mar.I have considered. Lu.O, dear mistress, I fear all will not end well; think again. Think what thou leavest. Mar.I think I shall leave thee. Lu. But when shall we return? Mar.Maybe to-morrow. Order the horses. I shall go without thee. Quick, quick, begone! Lu.Well, well. Thou hast found a man: I being a woman must help thee, tho’ ’tis madness. Mar. Go, girl: I know it. Thou’lt be true, Lucia: Only be quick. Lu.Well, well: may heaven forgive us. [Exit. 1230Mar. Forgive, she saith. Forgive me rather, oh heaven! The sourness of my spirit hitherto: Yet now forgive me not if I dare tamper With this intrinsic passion. O joy, my joy! This beauteous world is mine: All Sicily is mine: This morning mine. I saw the sun, my slave, Poising on high his shorn and naked orb For my delight. He there had stayed for me, Had he not read it in my heart’s delight 1240I bade him on. The birds at dawn sang to me, Crying ’Is life not sweet? O is’t not sweet?’ I looked upon the sea; there was not one, Of all his multitudinous waves, not one, That with its watery drift at raking speed Told not my special joy. O happy lovers In all the world, praise God with me: his angels Envy us, seeing we are his favourites. What else could grant such joy? Now on my journey Must I set forth, to be a brigand’s wife ... That’s but the outward of it, and looks strange: 1251For, oh, the heart of it is a fire of passion To lick up trifling life. Away, such dainty stuff: Let me stand forth myself.—Yet ere I go I must send Constance word. To whom to trust My letter? Ah, Philip ... Enter Philip. PHILIP. Good morning, Margaret. Mar. Good morning, duke: thou goest to the palace? Ph. Ay. Mar. May I ask thee, then, to bear this letter To Constance? I’d not trust it willingly Where it might wander. Ph.’Twill pass from my hands To hers. 1260Mar. Pray tell her, for my health I go To Monreale, or would have come myself. Ph. I’ll tell her so. I pray the change restore thee,— And soon. Indeed thou look’st not well. Farewell. Mar. Farewell. (Aside.) Look I then ill? I never felt So light and keen in spirit. [Exit. Ph. (solus). This fits in, too. She is sent to Monreale, Lest she should make discovery. ’Tis thus I join the threads. Palicio climbed the wall, Came hither thro’ the garden: here he stayed And bound his wound. So far the track. There has been 1271At least no care to hide it; and now he lies In the room across the courtyard: wherefore else Drawn curtains, and the lamp, which yesterday Burnt, as I saw, in the afternoon? All credit To the king’s commissioner. Yet must I dissemble, And not appear in the matter. ’Tis incredible Of Manuel. What will he allege? He is gone To the palace now: thither must I, and face him. [Exit.

On the hills above Monreale. Brigands fantastically dressed and armed are seated about on the rocks, with drinking-cups and remains of feast. PALICIO, in a black suit, his right arm in a sling. Much talking and singing, or the scene may open with the following song— SONG. I would not change the hills that I range 1280For a house in the city street: Nor the price on my head for a tax on my bread. Liberty, lads, is sweet. (Palicio getting up on a rock waves them to silence.) SQUARCIALUPU. Long live Lord Palicio! All.Huzzah! Huzzah! PALICIO. Thank you, my men. Now silence; I must tell you The feast is o’er, our meeting at an end. We have laid our plans: but their success depends On zealous preparation. Ye must to work. A brigand. We have another song yet, captain. Pal. See ye the sun is on this side of the city. 1290Brigands. The song, the song! Pal. What is this song ye call for? A brigand.May’t please your honour, If Squarcia sing we’ll be content. Sq.I know What they would have. Pal.Sing then: and cut it short. Sq. Nay, that lies with the chorus. Who hath the lute? SONG. If you’d hear me sing, Why give me a skin of wine. Creatures have their several ways, Edod! and I have mine, Chor.. And I have mine. (ad lib.) 1300Edod! and I have mine. If you’d see me fight, Why let me taste good cheer. Was not I as good as my word? Edod! am I not here? Chor.. Am I not here? (ad lib.) (Palicio gets up as before.) Sq. Enough, enough! silence! Now were ye not A set of loons ... make silence for the captain. Pal. Hark, men: I bid you leave, each silently And separately to his allotted task. 1310Gather your companies at tryst to-night; Acquaint them of our plans. Once, ere ye go, Look on those tyrannous towers, and swear revenge. Revenge on them that grind the people down! That tax our bread and wine! To-morrow night Hugo shall need no candles. Brigands. Revenge, revenge. Huzzah! Death to Hugo! Burn him! Pal. Not him, the palace: ’tis to burn the palace. Him we must take alive. Brigands.Not kill him, no. Treat him as he would us. 1320Pal.If ye love colour, His gold is ruddier than his coward blood. Brigands. Ay, ay, his gold—a ransom. Bleed his bags. Pal. Above all, none forget good Manuel’s kindness, And what I have told you. If any meet with him And hurt a hair of his head, ’tis ... Brigands.Death. Pal.’Tis death. Swear all, ’tis death. All.We swear. Pal.Now to your work. Brigands. Huzzah! Pal. Secretly, then. Farewell! To-morrow night I’ll meet you all. God grant us a good meeting. Farewell. [Exit. 1330Brigands. Huzzah! During following scene the brigands going, carrying off things to cave. Sq. Come, help clear off this gear to the cave. A brigand. Any wine in yon skin, good Squarcia? Sq. Ay, for the chewing. Brig. Thank ye. I’m off. Good-day, lads. [Exit. Sq. Did I not well, I say? A brigand. But how didst thou find him?—tell us. Sq. Trust me. Not that ’twas a thing within the bounds of mortal cleverness if a man should want luck. But I’d buy the dog that would have run as straight for him, as ’twere denoted by scent or instinct. To climb the very wall, and in at the window, and there to see him just face to face: on a fine couch in a pleasant chamber enough, with his arm 1344bandaged ... Brig. Is his arm broke? Sq. Ay, and where the nerve runs to the heart: the lady told me a thousand times that ’twere mortal to move it; and the surgeon who bound it said that his balance hung by a thread. Brig. The lady was with him, then. Didst thou 1351see her? Sq. It’s not all I see I’m bound to tell. But if she was not there, how should she be here? And had I not persuaded her, would she have let him come, think you? And that a matter of disputation, an hour and more. Brig. How could she stay him? Sq. Let alone wounds and surgeons, shall a lady have nothing to say? And she’s hard hit, I take it. 1360A fine piece, and brings money with her. Brig. And what may spoil his fighting. Sq. Wilt thou grudge the captain what he has fairly won? Or must thou be served first? Brig. Serve me soon, and serve me well. Yet I like not the lady. [Exit. Sq. Nay, nor the coin neither, I’ll go bound. How should he? Nay ... Wouldn’t old Beedo now have liked to have been here? A brigand. Well, he would. 1370Another. Why came he not? Sq. A bad reason, man, but a good excuse. Brig. How mean you? Sq. As if thou hadst never been on the wrong side of four walls! tell not me. [Exeunt. Enter Palicio and Margaret. Pal. Now thou know’st all. MARGARET. But is that all, Giovanni? Pal. Saw’st thou them well from where thou wert? Mar.Ay, tell me: The man in the blue jacket, who is he? Pal. That’s Squarcialupu: he’s my first lieutenant. Did they not greet me? Mar.I could count eighteen. Are there no more? 1380Pal.The least of these can muster Twenty as brave. Mar.That’s not six hundred men. Pal. But with them I can raise the town. Mar.’Tis pity The barons stand aloof. Pal.They hold together On certain claims that touch their own estate. But in their hate of Hugo they will join us At first report of our success; and that I’ll make flame forth. Mar.Alas! what canst thou do, Having so little means? Pal.To-morrow night 1389We shall surround the palace and capture Hugo. Mar. One regiment could drive all thy men away. Pal. He dare not give the word. Mar.How know’st thou that? Pal. I have sprung a cranny in his council-board, Thro’ which crumbs fall to me. Mar.Nay, but you force him ... The viceroy to yield up his power to a rebel! Hugo, his person to your hated hands! Pal. Well, he may fly; and then my word is, Sack And fire the palace. Mar.Giovanni, if he fight, Thou wilt be killed or taken. Pal.And what of that? Mar. What, askest thou! ask what! Methinks the world Holds but one treasure—thee: and thou dost wrong 1401Creation, staking all her store at once On such a sleight of fortune. It shall not be. Nay, for my sake it shall not. Dost thou love me? Pal. Love thee? O, Margaret, when I look on thee, And see the dazzling wealth, with which I hardly Shall scrape to heaven, may God forgive me, love, But I would be for ever pinched in hell, Rather than miss thee. Mar.To me art thou as precious: Therefore be wise. Where is the list of names? Pal. ’Tis here. Mar. What read I here? These are thy captains, 1411Palicio: these thy rivals, Margaret! Why, ’mongst these names—nay, tho’ I here see names Renowned for outrage—there is not one name Of such respect, that I can think it possible Its leadership can bid thee cast away Thy life, my life, our love. Pal.They are all brave men. Mar. They are ignorant, desperate, and reckless men. Pal. ’Tis by such recklessness I come at right. Mar. ’Tis recklessness throughout. See, thou art wounded And weak; a price upon thy head: think of it,— 1421And trust the people’s rights to Manuel; Leave them to the barons: we’ve a better task: Sail o’er to Rome, there reassume thy rank; Let us be married, and await the day That Manuel finds thy pardon. Pal.Tempt me not, Margaret. Mar. Else are we lost. Pal.Nay, fear not: there’s a traitor In the enemy’s camp; from whom I’ll have such tidings As will ensure success. Mar.Who is it? Pal.Blasco. Mar. Blasco! Pal.He hath your money; and for that price 1430Will tell how Hugo may be best surprised. That is my venture, Margaret ... If it fail ... Mar. Thou wilt be slain. Pal.Nay, I may still escape. Mar. And then thou’lt come? Pal.I will. Mar.Promise but that: That if this venture fail, and thou escape, Thou wilt not risk again. Pal.Ay, if I fail. Mar.Promise. Pal. I promise. Mar. Thou wilt lose nothing, for my brother alone Can do much more than thou with these base men, Who stain the cause. One favour more. Pal.What is it? Mar. ’Tis that this evening, love, be spent together. Pal. I mean it should. To-night our fellows meet 1442In various rendezvous, as you may see Upon the paper. There are ten in all They will not need my presence till to-morrow, When the bands join at sundown. O, Margaret: I knew that thou wouldst come. Mar.I think, Giovanni, Thou shouldst have met me first thyself: thy men Are rough. Pal.Was any rude? Mar.Nay, ’twas well meant, But sounded strangely. Pal.Say but who it was. 1450Mar. No, ’tis forgiven. Pal. (going). Kiss me. Mar.Ah, now, Giovanni, Where wilt thou go? Pal.But for one hour, my dearest, I must be absent. Then shall I be yours For all the day. Mar.Farewell. And prithee send Lucia. I will await thee. Pal.Farewell. [Exit. Mar.I have his promise, If this scheme fail. ’Tis mine to make it fail. O, ’tis too dangerous: to trust so far That dollar-ballasted Iscariot, The weather-trimming Blasco.—The paper! the list! I’ll have their names. Where can I write them? Ah! My prayer-book. I will send them straight to Hugo. Poor Constance! Burn the palace! Ay, and thee, For aught they care. Now, who comes first? Bendettu 1463Jacupu ... and your place?—within the cloister Of Santo Spirito. Next, Squarcialupu ... Why, that’s the ruffian who would like a dozen Wives such as I. He’ll find one were too many. Go you to prison, sir, and cool your thoughts. You burn the palace!—Messer Vincentiu Lazaru ... at his peltry shed at Baido. Now there’s two pages of them: the little prayers Will hardly shrive them ... here’s one I cannot read. 1472B-o-n-o-Bononio, now I have him. Why who could trust such men? Set them in power But for a day ... say this next villain here, Fardello ... he’s a murderer—ay, for him I write his death, maybe: but for the rest I’ll take such care that Manuel’s voice shall ease Their accusation. Now I have them all. Lucia! Ho, Lucia! Enter Lucia. See, take this book: 1480Return straight to Palermo: find some friend, Whom thou canst trust: commit it to her hands; Tell her to give it secretly to Livio, Bidding him read what is writ down in the margins; And say ’twas given to her by one she knew not, And with that message. All our happiness Is staked on this. Begone. Haste for thy life. LUCIA. Alas! what’s this? Mar.Why, have I frighted thee? Be brave: I tell thee on this single thread My life is hanging. Lu.Trust me, lady, I’d risk Ten lives for that. 1490Mar.Hide it. I trust thee. Go. I have played a bold stroke here: but if it prosper, For Constance, and Giovanni, and myself, ’Tis not ill done. [Exeunt.

A room in the Palace. Enter HUGO and CONSTANCE. HUGO. Thou hast a daughter’s duty, I a father’s: ’Tis mine to seek thy good, thine to obey. CONSTANCE. I pray thee, father, hear me. Hu.I have heard thee. Thou tellest me nought but what I know. The duke Hath been with me: his purpose to renew His suit hath my support. ’Tis very honourable— 1500It shall be welcome. Though thy words to him Betrayed reluctance, that makes yet no reason To shun him. He will presently be here: Stay and receive him. Con.O, if I do not dream, Heaven help me now! Hu.Constance, I pray, be sober. I am sorry for thee: but what seems thy grief Will be thy comfort, when thou learn’st the cause Which presses me to urge it. Con.What lies behind? What misery? Say! Hu.Manuel, whom late we trusted, Hath turned against me. He hath joined the rebels. 1510Con. Who dares to slander him? Hu.Fact makes no room For slander. The devil himself could not invent A tale to blacken him. First to the court He hath writ of me in secret, in the sense That I have stirred the king’s men to rebellion By my misrule; and all the while at home He feeds the mischief, and most treacherously Favours the rebels, so to magnify The blame on me he charges. Con.The crime’s too great. 1519If this be all I breathe again. The time When thou wilt prove this ’twill away like smoke. Not till ’tis proved question our marriage, father. Hu. The question now with him is not of marriage, But of his head. Con.Shame, shame! if these be words, What is their sense? Hu.To-morrow, or to-day, I shall have proof. Con.I knew ’twas all unproven. Who brought this lie, and propped it with the promise To make it true? Hu.Go, girl, I hear the duke. He must not see thee thus. Con.So far is well. I gladly go.—Dear father! Hu.Go take thy grief 1530Where thou canst comfort it. This Manuel Hath not deceived thee more than me, and me Would have more grossly wronged. Con.Alas! alas! [Exit. Hu. The proof will be to search his house, and so Both knaves are caught at once. Now to that end Lest he get wind of it I have bid him hither, And shall detain him till ’tis done. Enter Philip. Your grace, I have stayed for you. PHILIP. ’Tis well. I bring conviction. Palicio lies in Manuel’s house. His room Is locked and darkened: save for that, and orders 1540That none shall enter, there is no precaution. Hu. The abominable Pharisee! Ph. Now Margaret hath been hurried from the house On plea of health: I bear a letter from her To Constance. Hu.Give’t me. Ph.Pardon, your excellence; I promised I would see it in Constance’s hands. Hu. My hands are hers: a daughter cannot read Letters her father may not. Nay, the more Such right’s resented, more’s the need to use it.— And from a traitor’s house! Ph. (giving).Your privilege, sir, 1550Invades my honour. Hu.Tut, tut, tut, ’tis mine: [Takes it. Be not so squeamish.[Reads. I can write all’s well. Yet, as thou lovest Manuel, breathe no word Of aught I saw. I go from home to-day; Will see thee when returned.—Why, this is nothing. Ph. Taken alone ’twere nothing; but there’s nothing Could better fit our knowledge; nay it adds To what we know. I see that Margaret flies From the discovery that she hath made herself; And fears for Manuel. I grieve but for her. 1560His enmity to you precludes all pity. I have come to see his papers, which contain Charges against your excellence, prepared With such unfriendly skill, that to discredit them, Should ever they reach court, would cost far more Than any price or pains you now might spend In their suppression. Hu.O, the double-faced Pretentious Greek! But in this other matter We have him. I’ll charge the deed to his face. He’ll not Deny it. The embassy delayed last night 1570May sail this evening, and with them aboard Shall Manuel fare to the king with his accusers. We shall at least be rid of him. I will call him. [Rings a bell. Thou hast done me a good service. Ph.Shall I remain? Hu. I beg you. The cursed villain! Enter Servant. I await The chief justiciary. Shew him hither. [Exit servt. Ph. (aside). I shall not face him well. He must not guess My part in this: say he be proved a traitor, And I abhor all such as undermine The fabric of the throne,—yet have I shared 1580His guilt at heart, both in my wish to find it And from my profit in it! ’Twould seem less foul To steal a man’s fair earnings than to glean The waste of his crime. I’ll stand and take what comes. Enter Manuel. MANUEL. My service to your excellence. Hu.Ay, well. ’Tis of thy service I would speak. Attend me. Thou art an honest man; in all Palermo No name so fair as thine. There’s none would dream That thou at any press wouldst blink the right In thine own interest: now for these three years 1590Thou hast done justice honour, holding up Her majesty for worship: we ourselves Have strained or waived opinion oftentimes In trust of thee. ’Twas not then at first hearing We took the tale which strong concurrent proofs Now make me charge thee with. Know that ’tis said That thou hast given a refuge in thy house To John Palicio. Deny’t, I pray thee. Man. ’Tis true, your excellence. Hu.Then first I bid thee Return him into custody. Man.Last night 1600He left me without warning. Hu.Gone! Then, by heaven! Thou’rt doubly guilty. Man.I admit my guilt Upon the point of negligence: for the rest I beg your excellence will hear my plea. Palicio is my kinsman: he was driven Without his purpose, nor with my connivance, To shelter in my house. The claim of nature Withstood the challenge of my royal duty Suspended now in the interregnum ... Hu.Enough! Thou dost admit the act: ’tis downright treason. I’ll hear no answer. Though thou wouldst deny 1611My authority, thou shalt not doubt my power. Thou art my prisoner. To-night the embassy Will sail for Spain. Thou goest with them to plead Thy cause before the king. Man.I shall be ready, sire. Hu. Thou wilt be here detained until thy house Is searched: which done thou wilt go home, and there Resign thy keys. Knowing thy doings, sir, I treat thee as I find thee. We are enemies. 1619Man. I pray your excellence, for your daughter’s sake ... Hu. My daughter! could I wed her to a traitor, Would she herself consent? Enter LIVIO with the book, and BLASCO. Man.Call me not traitor, Ere I be proved one. Hu. (to Bl.). Ho! call in the guard. [Exit Blasco. (To Liv.) What bring you, son? [Talks with him. Man. (to Ph.). Philip, before I go;— Thou see’st my case. Fate would look black upon me, Left I no friend to speak for me: but thee I trust. Tell Constance what thou knowest; the rest Margaret can tell you. Add thereto assurance Both of my innocence and speedy acquittal. Re-enter Blasco with Guards. One word and I am gone. Beware of Blasco. 1630He bears two faces. See he be not trusted With aught of moment. Hu. (to officer of guard). The chief justiciary is your prisoner On charge of treason. Guard him in the palace Till you hear more. Man. (to Ph.). Stand my friend, and God aid thee. [Exit guarded. Ph. (aside). And so I may. I am not yet stepped so far That I must push my purpose, where it wounds Such ample trust. Hu.Philip, see here. Ph.What, sire? Hu. From some most friendly hand we have full tidings Of all the rebels; where they may be seized This very night. Ph. (to Liv.). You bring it? 1640Liv.They are betrayed By some one of themselves. Hu.’Twill end the matter. Ph. How came you by it? Liv.A woman brought it me, Who said ’twas thrust into her hands by one She knew not, who escaped. She hath since confessed That ’twas a maid of Manuel’s. Bl.Look you, tho’, How close this follows the discovery Of Manuel’s treason. It must be that some, On whom he used constraint, smelling his fall Return to loyalty. Hu.Most like. Now, Livio, 1650Seize them to-night. See thou observe in all The dispositions which I have shewn thee. Stay, There’s first a vacancy to fill: I make thee Justiciary in Manuel’s place: in thine I will take Blasco for my secretary. Meanwhile I lend him thee: thou wilt have need Of his experience. Liv.I thank thee, father. Bl. And I, your excellence. Hu.Now to your work. And then to Manuel’s house, and take possession Of all thy office gives thee. [Exeunt Livio and Blasco. Hu. (to Ph.). Thy matter next: I will fetch Constance. 1660Ph.Not now, I pray, not now! Hu. Nay, wherefore wait? This business shall be settled In a few words. I’ll bring her to thee straight. [Exit. Ph. I pray you. Nay, he is gone. I must stand to it. I play to win; and now the stakes are mine; Unless against myself for friendship’s claim I should uphold my rival. And he’s guilty. The papers were his own: them he confessed, And only deepened treason by the excuse Of kinship with the rebel. And then his servants 1670Cognizant.—On the other hand his confidence Staggering the evidence: his trust in me To comfort Constance. How should Margaret know More than the facts, or I deny the facts, Should I plead for him? And yet against the facts The man himself: his soul revealed to me; And my persuasion of him. O, he has fallen To the popular side. Moreover, his acquittal Were Hugo’s ruin. I cannot help him: nay, Not though I would; and Fate, which thrusts him down, Is kind to me. Re-enter Hugo with Constance. 1680Hu.Constance, see here the duke: He hath asked your hand of me: and I most happy In such a match have granted it. Con.I am here Fooled by a promise of evil, but not this. This is not Manuel’s treason. First of that: Where’s the pretended proof? Hu.He hath confessed it. Con. This tale convicts itself. Treason is close, And doth not bare the breast. Though here the man Ye wrong were likelier to confess such crime Than once be guilty of it. Hu.He both is guilty And hath confessed. 1690Con.To what hath he confessed? What deed that hatred thus can magnify? Hu. ’Twas he contrived Palicio’s late escape; And being detected and charged by me therewith, He hath here this hour confessed it. Since which time One of his household hath been traced in league With the conspirators. Con.I believe it not. Would he speak for you, he were here to speak. Hu. But if at least he hath gone out from the palace Under strict guard, and sails to-night for Spain? 1700Con. He is gone? Hu.He is gone. Con.Under constraint? Hu.Most certain, And charged with treason. Con. (turning to Ph.). Now, Philip, I bid thee speak. Ph. Ay, Constance, it is true, but ... Con.Ay? thou too. Ay and but: falsest falsehood, seeking grace In shame. I knew devilry lurked about When I came hither. I’ll go. I’ll not believe. I shall know truth at last. [Going. Hu.Nay, Constance, stay. Philip will answer thee. Thou questionest him; Hear him with patience. I shall leave thee with him. Thou hast been a duteous daughter hitherto, 1710Recover my good grace ere I return. (To Ph.) ’Twas an omission, duke, I gave no order To seize the villain’s servants. I’ll go do it. Use thy occasion. [Exit. Ph.Constance, I beg thy favour. Con. I stay, your grace,—why should I go? My father Hath bid me hear thee: and ’tis nought to me. Say what thou wouldst: speak on, nor be officious To suit thy meaning to me, for there’s nothing I can believe or doubt. Ph.O, Constance, think not That could I end thy sorrow by denial Of what thou hast heard, I would not. All is true. 1721My kindest office is to unmask the ill That this ill hath prevented, and to show thee A balance of good. There lies ’gainst Manuel Far more than we have charged and he confessed: He loves thee, thinkest thou?—He hath used his place To plot against thy father. I here have papers In which thyself mayst see what accusation He hath writ in secret. They are addressed to Spain, And would have been presented ... Con.’Tis his writing. 1730Whence was this filched? Ph.He gave them me himself. Con. O, a most open foe. Did he enjoin thee To bear them to my father? Ph.Nor have I done so. Con. Then this, duke, yet remains for thee to do. Take them at once. I know not what they mean: But if ’tis secret it may be betrayed. Do it, I pray thee, do it. [Exit. Ph.And I could wince At such reproach, had I dissembled further Than loyalty may deign, grappling with treason. 1739Her anger springs but of that nobleness Which makes her love worth winning; and in the end It shall be mine again. [Exit.

On the hills above Monreale, as before. Enter PALICIO and MARGARET. MARGARET. How fresh the morning air is. See how the mist Melts in the sun, and while we look is gone, Leisurely gathered on his sloping beams. And guarded by her angel towers the city Sleeps like an island in the solemn gray: ’Tis beauteous.— PALICIO. I love the city: it holds the stir. To-night I shall be there, and to do something Worthy of thee. Mar.Whate’er thou dost, Giovanni, I could not love thee more. 1750Pal.Beneath yon roofs There’s many a heart that quicker beats and leaps To hear my name. Mar.Thinkest thou still of them? They love thee not. Pal.Not? Mar.Nay; the thousandth part Of my love dealt among them were enough To make each man a hero. Now they are brave Only to cheer thee on: and I that love thee, And love but thee, shall lose thee. Pal.Have better faith, All will be well. Mar.Pray heaven it be. Pal.O, Margaret, Speak not so sadly: I would have thee brave 1760To cheer me on as they. Last night I dreamed That thou hadst turned against me. Mar.What, Giovanni? Pal. Thou didst deride me. Mar.I deride thy dream. Pal. I thought I failed, and lost thy love. Mar.O, faithless, That could not lose my love. If thou succeed Or fail, ’tis one. But tell me, giv’st thou heed To visions? Are they not a fickle fabric, Distorted fancies of the spirit, intruding By night in memory’s darkened cell? Or holdst thou They come from heaven? Pal.Ay. Talk not of them now. Let me not think of it.— 1770Mar.See here the flowers I have plucked. Know’st thou, Giovanni, why they grow? Pal. How meanest thou? Mar.Why in one place one flower Will grow, and not another. Pal.Canst thou tell? Mar. The spirits of good men, allowed to wander After their death about the mortal sites Where once they dwelt, there where they love to rest Shed virtue on the soil, as doth a ray Of sunlight: but the immortal qualities By which their races differ, as they once 1780Differed in blood alive, with various power Favour the various vegetable germs With kindred specialty. This herb, I think, Grows where the Greek hath been. Its beauty shows A subtle and full knowledge, and betrays A genius of contrivance. Seest thou how The fading emerald and azure blent On the white petals are immeshed about With delicate sprigs of green? ’Tis therefore called Love-in-a-mist. Pal.Who is this thistle here? Mar. O, he, with plumèd crest, springing all armed 1791In steely lustre, and erect as Mars, That is the Roman. Pal.Find the Saracen. Mar. This hot gladiolus, with waving swords And crying colour. Pal.And this marigold? Mar. That is the Norman: nay, his furious blood Blazes the secret. ’Tis said where’er he roamed This flower is common; but ’tis in those climes Where he wrought best it wears the strongest hue, And so with us ’tis bravest. Pal.And that’s thy countryman! Dost thou know Greek? 1800Mar.My father ever spoke it; And Manuel made me study in it, because Their learning was the best. Pal.And yet their books Were little thought of till great Frederick’s time,— The infidel. Mar.Was he an infidel? Pal. He loved their heathen books and mocked the Pope: And brought into his court a Scottish wizard, Who trafficked with the devil.—See, Margaret; Their courts are all alike. Here is the letter Fat Blasco writes me. He betrays his master 1810For those few coins thou gav’st me in thy bag. [Mar. takes letter. Gold goeth in at any gate but heaven’s. Ay, ’tis his writing, tho’ it be not signed. It tells how Hugo would escape by ship, And how to intercept him. Enter hastily a Brigand. BRIGAND. Captain, a word. Pal. Speak, Roger. Brig.’Tis for thee, captain, alone. Pal. I am alone, this lady is as I. What is’t? Brig. Thou biddest? Pal.Speak, man, by heav’n! Brig.Our men Are all betrayed. They were in dark of night 1819Closely surrounded at their several trysts By Hugo’s soldiers; bound, and taken to prison. Pal. O, Christ! my dream. Mar. (aside). Now, well done, Livio! Done like a man. Pal.Thou say’st all taken? Brig.All. Mar. (aside). I fear joy will betray me. Pal.It cannot be They are all betrayed. Brig.As many as had assembled At the ten trysts were taken. Pal.Who hath done it? (To Mar.) Take courage, dearest. Mar.Ay, ay. Pal.Nay, thou’rt pale. Mar. I thought that I should faint. (To Pal. aside.) O, fly, Giovanni! Fly now with me! thou see’st this game is lost. Pal. Be still awhile. (To Brigand.) And where wert thou? Brig. In the city, From house to house. Pal.What say they there? 1830Brig.This tale I heard. ’Tis told that ’mongst our men was one Of Benedettu’s band, who, being engirt, Stabbed himself to the heart. Some cried thereon That he was the betrayer. There are others Who dare the thought I would not breathe if thou Couldst think I thought it. Pal.Hold! I know, I see. All hath been like to build it. Who is with thee? Brig. Three, and the boy Federigo. Pal.Go to the hut: There I will join you. [Exit Brigand. Margaret, fare thee well Now for some time. This most untoward treason 1841Demands my care. Lucia is not far. Mar. What wilt thou do? Pal.Whatever may be done: Trust me. Mar.O, while thou’rt safe, Giovanni, fly. I claim thy promise. Remember it: thou wilt see If I deride thee. We will make this ill Our perfect good. Pal.It cannot be. It cannot. Mar. What wilt thou do? Pal.I know not. Thou remain. I will go see these men, and send thee word. Farewell. [Exit. Mar.O, I had betrayed myself but that my fear 1851Took other pretext. Ah! well done, well done! The ruffians caught—Giovanni safe, and mine; Giovanni mine. Ah, Messer Squarcialupu, And all your gang. Lucia, ho, Lucia! [Calling. Yet will I have them treated well. Ay, now, Manuel must know. No drop of their base blood Shall stain my hand. Lucia! Enter Lucia. LUCIA. Here I am. Mar. The men are caught, Lucia; all goes well. There’s none to steal Giovanni from me now. 1860We go to Rome. But first I must see Manuel. Lu. I pray he take all kindly. Mar.I fear him not. Giovanni promised, should this venture fail, To sail to Rome. Lu.And I? shall I to Rome? Mar. See, see! who is it, that gallops down the hill? Why, ’tis Giovanni! Lu.Where, my lady, where? Mar. See’st thou not by the firs? Lu.I hear the hoofs, But cannot see the rider. Mar.There he goes: Now on the road. Lu.I see him. Mar.Look, Lucia; That is his horse. Lu.Maybe a messenger 1870He mounts for speed. He rides to Monreale. Mar. Now we shall see. Nay, nay: he turns to the left. He’s for Palermo: and ’tis he, ’tis he, Giovanni. Enter the Brigand with a letter. Brig. A letter for the lady, from the captain. [Gives and stands aside. Mar. Give’t me. I faint. Lucia, take it, read it. Look! Read it me. I cannot see. The letters dance. Lu. (reading). Margaret, there’s but one course. My men suspect me. Of those who held this secret, I alone Was absent. Manuel’s shelter, my escape, Thy presence here, all point alike at me. 1880 I could not say farewell! When thou hast this I am gone. I ride to join my men in prison. Mar. Ah! ah! I knew it, I knew it! what have I done? [Sinks down. Lu. Mistress, my dearest mistress!