SCENE I--_A Wood_.

_Enter_ GONSALVO _and a Servant_.

_Gon_. Nay, 'twas a strange as well as cruel storm, To take us almost in the port of Sevile, And drive us up as far as Barcelona; The whole plate fleet was scattered, some part wrecked; There one might see the sailors diligent To cast o'erboard the merchant's envied wealth, While he, all pale and dying, stood in doubt, Whether to ease the burden of the ship, By drowning of his ingots, or himself.

_Serv_. Fortune, sir, is a woman everywhere, But most upon the sea.

_Gons_. Had that been all, I should not have complained; but, ere we could Repair our ship, to drive us back again, Was such a cruelty--

_Serv_. Yet that short time you staid at Barcelona You husbanded so well, I think you left A mistress there.

_Gons_. I made some small essays Of love; what might have been I cannot tell: But, to leave that, upon what part of Spain Are we now cast?

_Serv_. Sir, I take that city to be Alicant.

_Gons_. Some days must of necessity be spent In looking to our ship; then back again For Sevile.

_Serv_. There you're sure you shall be welcome.

_Gons_. Aye, if my brother Rodoric be returned From Flanders; but 'tis now three years since I Have heard from him, and, since I saw him, twelve.

_Serv_. Your growth, and your long absence in the Indies, Have altered you so much, he'll scarcely know you.

_Gons_. I'm sure I should not him, and less my sister; Who, when I with my uncle went this voyage, Was then one of those little prating girls, Of whom fond parents tell such tedious stories: Well, go you back.

_Serv_. I go, sir.

_Gons_. And take care None of the seamen slip ashore.

_Serv_. I shall, sir. [_Exit Servant_.

_Gons_. I'll walk a little while among these trees, Now the fresh evening air blows from the hills, And breathes the sweetness of the orange flowers Upon me, from the gardens hear the city.

_Robbers within_.

_1 Rob_. I say, make sure, and kill him.

_Hip_. For heaven's dear sake have pity on my youth.

[_Within_.

_Gons_. Some violence is offered in the wood By robbers to a traveller: Whoe'er Thou art, humanity obliges me To give thee succour.

_Hip_. Help! ah cruel men! [_Within_.

_Gons_. This way, I think, the voice came; 'tis not far. [_Exit_.

_The_ SCENE _draws, and discovers_ HIPPOLITO _bound to a tree, and two Robbers by him with drawn swords_.

_2 Rob_. Strip him, and let him go.

_1 Rob_. Dispatch him quite; off with his doublet quickly.

_Hip_. Ah me, unfortunate!

_Enter_ GONSALVO, _seizes the sword of one of them, and runs him through; then, after a little resistance, disarms the other_.

_2 Rob_. If you have mercy in you, spare my life; I never was consenting to a deed So black as murder, though my fellow urged me: I only meant to rob, and I am punished Enough, in missing of my wicked aim.

_Gons_. Do they rob angels here? This sweet youth has A face so like one, which I lately saw, It makes your crime of kin to sacrilege: But live; and henceforth Take nobler courses to maintain your life: Here's something that will rescue you from want, 'Till you can find employment. [_Gives him gold, and unbinds_ HIPPOLITO.

_Hip_. What strange adventure's this! How little hoped I, When thus disguised I stole from Barcelona, To be relieved by brave Gonsalvo here? [_Aside_.

_2 Rob_. That life, you have preserved, shall still be yours; And that you may perceive, how much my nature Is wrought upon by this your generous act, That goodness, you have shown to me, I'll use To others for your sake, if you dare trust me A moment from your sight.

_Gons_. Nay, take your sword; I will not so much crush a budding virtue, As to suspect. [_Gives him his sword. Exit Robber_. --Sweet youth, you shall not leave me, Till I have seen you safe.

_Hip_. You need not doubt it: Alas! I find I cannot, if I would: I am but freed to be a greater slave: [_Aside_. How much am I obliged, sir, to your valour!

_Gons_. Rather to your own sweetness, pretty youth; You must have been some way preserved, though I Had not been near; my aid did but prevent Some miracle more slowly setting out To save such excellence.

_Hip_. How much more gladly could I hear those words, If he, that spoke them, knew he spoke to me! [_Aside_.

_Enter the Robber again with Don_ MANUEL, _and_ JULIA, _bound_.

My brother and my sister prisoners too! They cannot sure discover me through this Disguise; however, I'll not venture it. [_Steps behind the trees_.

_2 Rob_. This gentleman and lady [_To_ GONS. _privately_. My fellows bound. [_Exit Robber_.

_Man_. We must prepare to die; This is the captain of the Picarons.

_Jul_. Methinks he looks like one; I have a strange Aversion to that man; he's fatal to me.

_Gons_. I ne'er saw excellence in womankind [_Stares on her_. Till now, and yet discern it at the first: Perfection is discovered in a moment; He, that ne'er saw the sun before, yet knows him.

_Jul_. How the villain stares upon me!

_Gons_. Wonder prepares my soul, and then love enters: But wonder is so close pursued by love, That, like a fire, it warms as soon as born.

_Man_. If we must die, what need these circumstances?

_Jul_. Heaven defend me from him!

_Gons_. Why, madam, can you doubt a rudeness from me? Your very fears and griefs create an awe, Such majesty they bear; methinks, I see Your soul retired within her inmost chamber. Like a fair mourner sit in state, with all The silent pomp of sorrow round about her.

_Man_. Your language does express a man, bred up To worthier ways than those you follow now.

_Gons_. What does he mean? [_Aside_.

_Man_. If (as it seems) you love; love is a passion, Which kindles honour into noble acts: Restore my sister's liberty; oblige her, And see what gratitude will work.

_Gons_. All this is stranger yet.

_Man_. Whate'er a brother's power To-morrow can do for you, claim it boldly.

_Gons_. I know not why you think yourselves my prisoners; This lady's freedom is a thing too precious To be disposed by any but herself: But value this small service as you please, Which you reward too prodigally, by Permitting me to pay her more.

_Jul_. Love from an outlaw? from a villain, love? If I have that power on thee, thou pretend'st, Go and pursue thy mischiefs, but presume not To follow me:--Come, brother. [_Ex_. Jul. _and_ Man.

_Gons_. Those foul names of outlaw and of villain I never did deserve: They raise my wonder. [_Walks_. Dull that I was, not to find this before! She took me for the captain of the robbers; It must be so; I'll tell her her mistake.

[_Goes out hastily, and returns immediately_.

She's gone, she's gone, and who or whence she is I cannot tell; methinks, she should have left A track so bright, I might have followed her; Like setting suns, that vanish in a glory. O villain that I am! O hated villain!

_Enter_ HIPPOLITO _again_.

_Hip_. I cannot suffer you to wrong yourself So much; for, though I do not know your person, Your actions are too fair, too noble, sir, To merit that foul name.

_Gons_. Pr'ythee, do not flatter me; I am a villain; That admirable lady said I was.

_Hip_. I fear, you love her, sir.

_Gons_. No, no, not love her: Love is the name of some more gentle passion; Mine is a fury, grown up in a moment To an extremity, and lasting in it; An heap of powder set on fire, and burning As long as any ordinary fuel.

_Hip_. How could he love so soon? and yet, alas! What cause have I to ask that question, Who loved him the first minute that I saw him? I cannot leave him thus, though I perceive His heart engaged another way. [_Aside_.

Sir, can you have such pity on my youth, [To Him. On my forsaken and my helpless youth, To take me to your service?

_Gons_. Would'st thou serve A madman? how can he take care of thee, Whom fortune and his reason have abandoned? A man, that saw, and loved, and disobliged, Is banished, and is mad, all in a moment.

_Hip_. Yet you alone have title to my service; You make me yours by your preserving me: And that's the title heaven has to mankind.

_Gons_. Pr'ythee, no more.

_Hip_. I know your mistress too.

_Gons_. Ha! dost thou know the person I adore? Answer me quickly; speak, and I'll receive thee: Hast thou no tongue?

_Hip_. Why did I say I knew her? All I can hope for, if I have my wish To live with him, is but to be unhappy. [Aside.

_Gons_. Thou false and lying boy, to say thou knew'st her; Pr'ythee, say something, though thou cozen'st me.

_Hip_. Since you will know, her name is Julia, sir, And that young gentleman you saw, her brother, Don Manuel de Torres.

_Gons_. Say I should take thee, boy, and should employ thee To that fair lady, would'st thou serve me faithfully?

_Hip_. You ask me an hard question: I can die For you; perhaps I cannot woo so well.

_Gons_. I knew thou would'st not do't.

_Hip_. I swear I would: But, sir, I grieve to be the messenger Of more unhappy news; she must be married This day to one Don Roderick de Sylva, Betwixt whom and her brother there has been. A long (and it was thought a mortal) quarrel, But now it must for ever end in peace: For, happening both to love each others sisters, They have concluded it in a cross marriage; Which, in the palace of Don Rodorick, They went to celebrate from their countryhouse, When, taken by the thieves, you rescued them.

_Gons_. Methinks I am grown patient on a sudden, And all my rage is gone: like losing gamesters, Who fret and storm, and swear at little losses; But, when they see all hope of fortune vanished, Submit, and gain a temper by their ruin.

_Hip_. Would you could cast this love, which troubles you, Out of your mind!

_Gons_. I cannot, boy; but since Her brother, with intent to cozen me, Made me the promise of his best assistance, I'll take some course to be revenged of him.

[_Is going out_.

But stay--I charge thee, boy, discover not To any, who I am.

_Hip_. Alas, I cannot, sir; I know you not.

_Gons_. Why, there's it; I am mad again; Oh love!

_Hip_. Oh love! [_Exeunt_.