SCENE I.—_A Wood near San Lucar in Andalusia.

_Enter MANUEL and JUANA as travelling._

_Man._ Misfortune on misfortune!

_Jua._ Ay, they call One to another.

_Man._ Ah, my love! That you should wander thus about with me And find no home! Gallicia, that I thought Should be our port, unkindly storm’d us out To Salvatierra, whence before the gale We drive to Andalusia.

_Jua._ Manuel, My home is ever where you are.

_Man._ Oh how Requite such love! but you shall rest awhile Till I and the poor fellow we pick’d up Have found fit resting-place in San Lucar. Pedro!

_Enter PEDRO._

_Ped._ Sir!

_Man._ Come you with me; While you, Juana, underneath those trees—

_Jua._ Weep your departure.

[_Exit JUANA._

_Man._ It shall not be long. Although her grief blindly anticipates A longer separation than she knows!

_Ped._ Alas, and how is that? and how can you Foredoom such pain to one who loves you so? Pardon me who am but your servant, sir, And that but these two days, for saying it.

_Man._ Ah, Pedro, ’tis not I who wills all this, But fate; that, stronger than all human will, Drove me from Portugal to Gallicia, Thence hither; where my fate still urging on, I must to sea, joining the armament That sails to plant the banner of the church Over the golden turrets of the north: Leaving my lady—not, as you surmise, Deserted and dishonour’d here behind, But in some holy house at San Lucar, With all the little substance I possess, Till I return. For to a soldier His sword is property enough. (_Drums within._)

_Ped._ And hark The drum that answers you—

_Man._ No doubt a troop Recruiting for this war.

_Ped._ See, they are coming.

_Man._ I’ll take occasion by the forelock then. Pedro, go, tell the Ensign of the troop Two men would join his ranks. I’ll to Juana.

[_Exit._

_Enter GIL PEREZ with soldiers._

_Ped._ This one looks affable. Pray, sir, can you courteously inform me which is the Ensign?

_Soldier._ There—he with the red sash.

_Ped._ What, he with the lofty presence and broad shoulders?

_Soldier._ Ay!

_Gil_ (_to the soldiers_). Well then, my lads, we shall agree together very well, eh?

_Soldiers._ Long live our noble Ensign!

[_Exeunt soldiers._

_Ped._ Now’s the time!

_Gil_ (_to himself_). ’Fore heaven, this soldiering would be pleasant enough did not that trouble follow and plague me.

_Ped._ Sir!

_Gil._ Leaving Isabel at such a risk—

_Ped._ Sir Ensign!

_Gil._ That as fast as I gain honour here I run the chance of losing more at home.

_Ped._ Noble Sir Ensign!

_Gil._ One good thing, however, my good Manuel keeps guard for me.

_Ped._ He must surely be deaf this side—I’ll try the other. Noble Ensign!

_Gil_ (_turning round_). Who is that?

_Ped._ (_recognising him gradually_). A soldier—no, I only mean one who would be—no soldier. If I said I wish’d to be a soldier, sir, I lied.

_Gil._ Rascal! you here? did I not warn you whenever and wherever—

_Ped._ Oh yes, yes, but how should I ever expect to find you here a soldiering?

_Gil_ (_setting upon him_). I’ll teach you I _am_ here, scoundrel, to whom I owe half my trouble.

_Ped._ Help! murder! help!

_Enter MANUEL._

_Man._ A soldier set upon my servant! stop, sir! how do you dare—Gil Perez!

_Gil._ Manuel!

_Man._ Why, did I not leave you in Portugal?

_Gil._ And I you at Salvatierra, engaged to me by solemn promise and old love to guard my honour there?

_Man._ We both have cause for wonder. I will tell you all; but first we must be alone.

_Gil._ Ay, another wonder; this fellow yours?

_Man._ In travelling hither we found him by the way, and took him.

_Gil._ Well, this saves your life for this time, sir: but, remember, you will not always have a friend at hand to do so much for you.

_Ped._ I know that; I only wish you would be so gracious as to tell me where you are next bound, that I may take good care not to go thither. But I know one place at least to which you cannot follow me—my own estate—and thither I set off immediately.

[_Exit._

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

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

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

_Man._ One Juan Baptista Courted your sister.

_Gil._ Well?

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

_Gil._ Manuel!

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

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

_Enter ALONSO._

Oh, Don Alonso, you are come in time. If aught that I have ever done for you Deserve return, requite me, I beseech you, By giving Manuel here the Ensigncy I must throw up.

_Alon._ But why?

_Gil._ I must at once To Salvatierra, where my honour lies In the utmost peril.

_Alon._ But—

_Gil._ I am resolved.

_Alon._ I fain might try dissuade you, but I know Your honour will not call in vain. Enough: Be ’t as you will—on one condition.

_Gil._ Well?

_Alon._ That I may go with you, and share your risk, Who more than shared, and conquer’d mine.

_Man._ Nay, sir, If any one do that it must be I, His older friend, who bringing this ill news Must see him safely through it.

_Alon._ But ’twas I Who drew him from his home, where, till I came, He lived in peace and quiet, but where now This outrage has grown up in his forced absence. And surely, the world over, ’tis ill manners For one who, having drawn a friend from home, Lets him return alone.

_Man._ Well, be you courteous, I’ll not be cowardly.

_Gil._ Oh, this rivalry Proves the nobility of both! But, friends, Neither must go with me; you both are here Fled in like peril of your lives from home, And how could I avail me of your love At such a price? Nay, I may want you both In greater risks hereafter; and whom look to, If you be lost?

_Alon._ True, but if one of us Went with you now, the other—

_Man._ And that one Must be myself.

_Alon._ You see, sir, one _will_ go. Do you choose which.

_Man._ Content.

_Gil._ How shall I choose, When to choose one must needs the other hurt? But if it needs must be— I say that Don Alonso, so engaged In high and even holy business here, Must not forgo ’t for mine. If one will come, Let it be Manuel.

_Alon._ I live to hear This insult from your lips! But I’ll have vengeance; Neither shall go unless you take with you Thus much at least to compensate For what you leave. These jewels may assist you Where my sword cannot. (_Giving jewels._)

_Gil._ I accept them, sir, As freely as they’re given. Come, embrace me. And now to punish an unworthy sister, And that ill traitor, from whose heart I swear My bleeding honour with this sword to tear.

[_Exeunt._