■■pt')-' '■,-■ 
 
 Bridges 
 Palicio
 
 THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 LOS ANGELES
 
 lp>la^s b^ IRobert ©ribges. 
 
 ^0. ii. palkic.
 
 PALICIO 
 
 A ROMANTIC DRAMA IN FIVE ACTS IN THE 
 ELIZABETHAN MANNER 
 
 BY ; 
 
 ROBERT .BRIDGES. 
 
 'H Kai nAAIKQN iv\6yus fitvil (darij ; 
 
 ^sch. Mtiiita, frag. 
 
 Published by Edward Bumpus, Holborn Bars, London, E.G. 1890.
 
 PALICIO. 
 
 DRAMATIS PERSONS. 
 
 HUGO 
 
 LIVIO 
 
 MANUEL 
 
 PHILIP, Did-e 
 
 FERDINAND 
 
 BLASCO 
 
 MICHAEL ROSSO 
 GIOVANNI PALICIO 
 SQUARCIALUPU ... 
 
 MARGARET 
 
 CONSTANCE 
 
 LUCIA 
 
 Viceroy of Sicily, 
 his son, lover of Margaret. 
 Chief fttsticiary, betrothed to Constance. 
 Spanish conmiissioncr. 
 his secretary, 
 a Sicilian coimt. 
 a surgeon, lover of Margaret, 
 brigand, 
 his lieutenant. 
 
 sister to Manuel, 
 daughter to Hugo, 
 servant to Margaret. 
 
 Brigands, soldiers, messengers, servants. 
 The scene is in PALERMO, and sometimes in the hills above MONREALE. 
 Time, Spanish occupation of Sicily. 
 
 ACT I. 
 
 SCENE I. 
 
 Palermo. Reception-ivom in the Palace. 
 
 Blasco attd Ferdinand. 
 
 Blasco. 
 
 PAVE you not 1)een in Sicily before ? 
 
 Fcr. Never. 
 
 Bl. An<l, sir, wliat tliink you of Pa- 
 lermo? 
 Have you as fine cities in Spain? 
 Fir. 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 mi_s;lit dare shew 
 His face in the streets. 
 Bl. The time is now unquiet. 
 
 Fer. 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. 
 
 Fir. But can you tell me 
 
 The real cause of these disturbances? 
 
 Bl. Nothing is easier, sir. Your viceroy, Hugo, 
 This 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.
 
 m 
 
 'f 
 
 Act I. 
 
 sc, 
 
 i.l 
 
 Palicio. 
 
 39 
 
 Ffr. But how 
 
 Can a mere hnndful of such-ruffians hold 
 The city, when the loyal troops are his ? 
 
 Bi. "fis known to the people that their cause hath 
 found 
 An ear in Spain : and here among the barons 
 Ate many who wisli well to the revolt. 
 Should Hugo push to extremes he might discover 
 Most potent enemies. Remember, sir, 
 'Twas a street scuffle in this veiy town, 
 That drave the French from Sicily. 
 
 /•V/'. The thought 
 
 Brings me no comfort. 
 
 Bl. Wherefore 'tis his policy 
 
 To meet the present rage by such concessions 
 As may be popular, and to give forth 
 Tlie king is ill, not dead. 'Tis for this reason 
 No mass is sung nor mourning liveries worn : 
 To-nigln's festivity, such as it is, 
 Ilalh only this pretence. 
 
 Fer. Are the two ladies 
 
 His daughters both? 
 
 Bl. The taller and the fairer, 
 
 Tlie lady Constance, is his only daughter. 
 Your fine duke Philip, who conies now from court 
 With such a mightiness, was once her lover. 
 Far. That doth not single her. 
 B!. But then it did. 
 
 She was his first. 'Twas when duke Philijj's father 
 Was viceroy here ; Hugo was tlien 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. 
 
 /'(■r. 'Twas the other 
 
 I asked of, in white satin, she who sat 
 On Philiji's right at supper ; who is she ? 
 Bl. That, sir, is Margaret. 
 
 F(r. And who is Margaret ? 
 
 Bl. Sister to Manuel. 
 Fcr. 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 heait were but a pine!) of pepper 
 Sprinkled on porridge. Now for full two years 
 Her reign hath made a melancholy madness 
 The fashion 'niongst our youth. 
 
 F'er. I should much like 
 
 To be presented. 
 
 Bl. O, sir, at your will. 
 
 Judge for yourself. See, here they come. [AsiJi.) 
 A^ioth ! 
 Fer. (asiild). A very civil fellow. 
 
 \_Tliey retire to bach. 
 
 Enter R. Hugo, Philip, Manuel, Margaret, 
 Constance and Livio. 
 
 Ifu. I am sorry, your grace, ''' 
 
 We make so small a jiarty. for our poor 
 Reception, and for all shortcomings else, 
 Accuse the occasion. 
 
 Ph. I think, your excellence, 
 
 I cannot play the guest. This house w-as 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 1 have ever been away. 
 
 Man. Five years. 
 
 Ph. Ay, but five years of wandering, 
 
 Such as can but endear one's home the more. 
 My memory still would serve me to \\'alk blindfold 
 From any point of the city to these doors. 
 
 Jilan. What is your memory for our studies, 
 Phdip? 
 
 Ph. Too slippery for my profit. Yet the pleasure 
 Lives very brightly ; — nay, I could but name 
 One'deprivation 1 have more regretted. 
 
 Alar. 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? 
 
 A/ar. And welcome. Manuel, in his deep research 
 For the first cause and harmony of thiiigs. 
 Hit upon both together — they are one : 
 'Tis love. And now, since 1 profess it not, 
 And since 'twas learnt of you . . . 
 
 flian. (to Mar.) Hush, sister, hush ! 
 
 Ph. I am very proud of such a pujiil. (Asitie.) 
 Since 
 He has learned my love so readily, it may be 
 That he may catch my jealousy — 
 
 //«. 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, 
 A moment now. All day I have been away, '* 
 
 And yesterday I saw you not at all. 
 Can you forgive a lover so remiss ? 
 
 Con. If I could think it negligence, No. 
 
 Man. The time 
 
 Can be but short, but it shall make amends. 
 
 [ They talk together. 
 
 Bl. [coming forward with Fer.). Fair lady Mar- 
 garet, 
 Count Ferdinand of Vergas ; I present him 
 At his desire. 
 
 Fer. Your ladyship's true servant. 
 
 Mar. I am mucli honoured. 
 
 Fer. Lady, 'tis worth the pains 
 
 To cross from Spain to see you. 
 
 Mar. From that I guess 
 
 That 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 Ijlanie 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 fir you, sir, 
 If noises in the street keep you indoors. 
 
 Liv. Take warning, count ; Sicily's fairest rose 
 Blooms on an angry plant. 
 
 iMar. But we can boast 
 
 Of warriors that for fragrance shame the rose. 
 
 ( To Liv.) Is't musk to-day ? 
 
 Liv. (to L'er.). I told you. 
 
 i3Goir;i
 
 4° 
 
 Palh 
 
 CIO. 
 
 [Act I. 
 
 SC. 1. 
 
 Enter Messenger R., crosses to Hugo L. 
 
 Mes. This paper, sire, is posted thro' the town. 
 
 Nil. Eh, eh ! what have we here ? [JieaJs. 
 
 Citizens of Palermo, A'iiig J'eJro is dead. God rest 
 his soul I The office of Viceroy being vacant, the 
 Parliamejit of tinonsmen, 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 ? 
 
 Man. I know 
 
 No more than doth your excellence. But 'tis plain 
 That tliey are orclerers 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 De- 
 spatches ! "] 
 
 Ph. Here conies the parliament. 
 
 Hu. Now this is what I feared. Manuel, 1 pray 
 you. 
 Go to the balcony, you have their ear ; 
 Use then your credit. 
 
 Afan. What, sire, shall I say ? 
 
 Hu. Well, you should know. 
 
 Liz'. (to Man.). Look, if they ask to hear 
 
 The last despatches, gull them with some |)aper ; 
 Wliich 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 
 Cannot 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 liaslily away : 
 Then the next ranks shed ofl", and then the next 
 Loosened and followed them ; till ^he voice came 
 To the very midst and huddle, where they pressed 
 Witli upturned faces ; then all heads went down. 
 And with a cry tliey tied. 
 
 Hu. Whither? 
 
 Man. I think 
 
 To tile prison, my lord. 
 
 Enter a Soldier. 
 Hu. What now ? give me thy matter. 
 
 Sold. The prisoner Palicio is escaped. 
 He killed his guards, and fled beyond pursuit. 
 
 Ph. fto Liv.). Wliy, is not this the man you spoke 
 
 of? 
 Liv. Ay, 
 That is the man. 
 //«. 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. 
 Blasco, go see to it : he must not escape. 
 
 Bl. (aside). But if he be escaped, who's viceroy 
 then ? [E.Tcit -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 
 But 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 ? 
 
 Tliey 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. [£.r// Ferdinand. 
 
 Hu. 'Tis but truth, your grace, 
 
 We may be driven hence. The people's cry 
 Is .S"(7<";^ 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 : 
 But 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. W'hy, no. Be generous. 
 
 If I be wrong, what makes you ill at ease 
 When this man's free ? Palicio is in prison, 
 And 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 ? »
 
 Act I. sc. ii.] 
 
 Pali 
 
 CH). 
 
 41 
 
 JiJiin. Enouyh. We take our leave. 
 
 We pass by a private way, duke. 
 
 F/t. I come with you. 
 
 Good-night. 
 
 All, Good-night. 
 
 [Exfiinl Fhili/', Manuel, ami Margaret. 
 
 Hu. (to Con.). And you to bed. 
 
 Con. I pray tliere's nought to fear? 
 
 Hu. Nay, nay. Good-night, child ; sleep you 
 sound. 
 
 Con. Dear father, 
 
 Ile.Tven 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 tilings go worse will be to sail for Spain 
 And face them boldly there. 'Tis an extremity 
 "I'were best to avoid : but since my hands are tied 
 I may be forced ; and am so far resolved. 
 That 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 wnll, 
 Whence by a covered pass.ige I can reach 
 The harbour, where I keep a ship prepared. 
 Thee I must leave. But let this news be spread, 
 That I'hilip is with Manuel ; it may serve 
 To draw the people thither — his being here 
 Would have impeded my escape. Antl first 
 We'll go the rounds, and see that at all points 
 The watch is strong and wakeful. Come with me. 
 
 \E.xeiint. 
 
 SCENE II. 
 
 Hall ill Marnier s house. Enter Palicio in 
 ivoiiian's clothes, bleeding, a dagger in his 
 hand. 
 
 Pal. No one, no sound. Can I hide here I am 
 safe. =^ 
 
 I have given the curs the slip, if T 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 st.ab. 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 (Jod ! this llip-flaji gear 
 Shackling my knees — Over ! ha, ha ! the fools 
 Will never guess that leap. Hut 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. [Nn/es. 
 
 Enter Manuel, Pkilifi, Margaret, and Sen-ant. 
 Man. {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 wakelulness. 
 
 P/i. This is the flower 
 
 Of hospitality. Now, for old sakes, 
 
 I'd beg some meaner shift, to prove me mindful 
 
 Of ancient benefits. 
 
 Afar. 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 sei-vant, 
 
 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. 
 
 Man. Nay, what's that ? 
 
 Yet 'twas ill said, and may have wounded Philip ; 
 Though he must wish us to assume there's nothing 
 'Tvvixt 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, 
 
 Your praise of John Palicio. See you not 
 'Twill injure me with Iliigo? Our relations 
 Are tried by public matters : 'tis in the scope 
 Of private intercourse to ease the strain. 
 Or force the rupture. 
 
 Alar. Brother, I am very sorry. 
 
 I thought . . . 
 
 Alan. I do not blame your thoui^ht. 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 
 Even to the bone l>y cruelty and raj^ine. 
 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. 
 
 Afar. Then you forgive me, brother? 
 
 Afan. Well, well, good-night ! 
 
 Afar. Good-night I [Exit. 
 
 Afan. Giuseppe, prepare 
 
 The little room at the end of the corridor ; "^ 
 
 I will sleep there. I shall not want thee more. 
 
 [Exit Servant. 
 It matters not what happens, day by day 
 The rupture grows. 'Tis ])Iain Hugo and I 
 Are foes at heart — and what a pitiful trick 
 To put the question of my marriage by, 
 Wiiliholding his consent just for the thought. 
 That while my happiness hangs on his nod, 
 I must be closer buinul to seive his interest. 
 Now, when his credit loiters. Doth he not know 
 That honourable minds, thro' very fear 
 Of their self-interest, are thrust away
 
 42 
 
 Palicio. 
 
 [Act II. 
 
 SC. 1. 
 
 Beyond their countei-jiidgnient ? Nay, 'lis clear 
 He falls, he falls ; and wcre't not now for Constance, 
 I'd gladly see him fall. 
 
 Palicio comes foniiard. 
 
 A woman here ! 
 Why, who art thou ? 
 
 Pal. Hush, hush ! I am no woman, 
 
 [/.fly.i 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. 
 
 ISlan. Thou here ! 
 Pal. Vou see. 
 
 ,'1/«H. From prison ? 
 
 Pal. Escaped, thank God ! 
 
 I skirmished with my guards, and being pursued 
 Came thro' your orange garden. Here none will 
 
 seek me. 
 Hide me! 
 
 Man. Thee, madman, here? 
 /',;/. 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. '^ 
 
 J/an. Art thou much hurt? 
 
 /'(/. A thrust in the arm, a petty prick, which yet 
 Bleeds uncontroUedly. 
 
 Man. Undo it. It spurts. 
 
 Hold here thy hand, while with thy handkerchief 
 I bind thy arm. 
 
 /',//. 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 shotdd end. Call in the hirelings ; 
 They'll not be far. 1 will go back with them. 
 And 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, 
 .\nd let me forth to try my fortune ! 
 
 Man. Nay. 
 
 Pal. Then if I take my dagger and venture out . . 
 
 [ Taies 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? 
 
 Pal. 'Twas ps 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. 
 
 A/an. 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 
 Are 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, 
 Tliou 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 ? 
 
 A/an. Ay, true enough. 
 
 /':/. Then are you free. I am safe. 
 
 [Puts dagger in his hosom. 
 Man. I say this is thy hope. The king being dead, 
 Such 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 fiom a servant 
 Discredited, contending that they hang 
 Upon my judgment, for my deeds to give 
 .»\fter-account. See, 'tis a subtle point 
 I strain for thee, rather than hurt the claim 
 Of kinship. Thou shall 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. 
 
 ACT II. 
 
 SCENE I. 
 
 Hall in Manuel s house. Margat-et and 
 
 Constance. 
 A/ar. Sweet, happy Constance, tell me why thou 
 sighest. ^*' 
 
 What canst thou lack ? 
 
 Con. 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.
 
 Act II. sc. i.] 
 
 Pol 
 
 lao. 
 
 4-.] 
 
 Margaret ! 
 
 Well mayst thou siijh : 
 
 Colt. 
 
 Mar. 
 I can sigh for thee. 
 
 Con. I should love to hear thee. 
 
 Thou owest me sighs, for mine were tlioughts of thee. 
 
 A/ar. Because I love not? Hast tliou forgot 
 already *- 
 
 Life may be tolerable for a woman 
 Without thy joy? 
 
 Con. You treat poor Livio 
 
 Unkindly, Margaret. 
 
 Mar. Now, if tliat's the grief. 
 
 We have threshed it out before. 
 
 Con. I shall not spare you. 
 
 Till you are kinder. 
 
 3/(ir. 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 tlian the others ; 
 
 Than 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 ? 
 
 Mar. 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 ot 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 
 Across the court. There as I stood last night, 
 Watching the moon awhile, ere I shut out 
 The sleepless spknilour 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 ihc back, — for I'liilip 
 Had his ;— but, for some strangeness in the step 
 I'ricked my attention, and to content my thought, 
 I lent my car to the sound, until it reached 
 The door at the end : there, standing by the window 
 I s.aw him i-lain : '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 b.'>ck. 
 
 Con. A woman ! art ihou 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. 
 
 Con. AVhat dost thou think to learn ? 
 
 Mar. 1 have neither guess nor hope ; I lay 
 awake ■*'' 
 
 An hour, and thought of fifty things, not one 
 Of any likelihood. In all romance 
 No l.ady in distress ere came at midnight 
 To the houae of the chief justice. I cmild wish 
 This beauteous maiden were a young pirincess 
 Kled 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. 
 
 Mar. Of course she is young 
 
 And beautiful. Why, — you are not jealous, Constance? 
 
 Con. Not jealous, no. 
 
 Ma7: 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 shouldsl thou 
 
 fancy 
 Impossibilities ? 
 
 Coil. What is impossible ? 
 
 Mar. I fear now that the sight of thy old love, 
 Philip the false, halh turned thy happier trust. 
 Thim'rt changed. 
 
 Con. Nay, nay : I am not : and yet 'tis true 
 
 His coming is my trouble. [ll'icj's. 
 
 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 
 The 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 gall.Tntries. All that sad time 
 I leaned on you, and 'twas your friendship gave 
 The occasions whence my love with Manuel sprung. 
 ^'ou led me still, )'ou gave me confidence ; 
 Your comfort turned to joy, Manuel was mine. 
 When suddenly on some mysterious cause 
 He holds aloof; my joy is bid await.
 
 44 
 
 Palicid 
 
 [Act II. 
 
 SC. 11. 
 
 O, Margaret, if you understood love's joy, 
 
 How closely 'tis inwoven with fear to lose, 
 
 Vou wovild 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. 
 
 I'hilip 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. T doubt him not : and yet 
 
 If I speak of my brother you only laugh, 
 But if you speak of yours . . . 
 
 Mar. Kound, round again. 
 
 Betwixt our brothers grant some difference. 
 Thy Livio is a boy of slender parts, 
 Led by his passions. Manuel is a man 
 Austere and stern ; he is above suspicion. 
 
 Con. I do not doubt lu» truth, but find such stern- 
 ness 
 Unkind to love. My brother's love for you 
 Is simple : Manuel's love hath some reserve ; 
 A veil, I'jehind 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, 
 To which I am an object as another ; 
 Until he sighs, as conscious of the change. 
 The disappointment of our marriage brings 
 .Scarce a legret 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, 
 
 Ay, 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 encourai:e it. Indeed, 
 I am come to think there's cause, and thy suspicion 
 Hath much enhanced my mystery. Go thou home ; 
 There 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. 
 
 I cannot pity thee, and till thou goest 
 I can do nothing. 
 
 Con. Promise me to send. 
 
 A/ar. I have promised that. P'arcwell ! 
 
 Con , To-day ? 
 
 Mar. To-day. 
 
 Trust me, I go at once. [Examl. 
 
 SCENE II. 
 
 Room in the Palace. Enter Blasco. 
 
 Bl. I have sucked this Ferdinand. Duke Philip 
 bears ^ 
 
 Secret desp.atches 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? 
 Packed 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 
 He 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. 
 
 Fh. Good mon'ow, Blasco. 
 
 Bl. I served thy father well. 
 
 Ph. I know it, Blasco. 
 
 What of it now? 
 
 /)'/. I do not urge my service 
 
 Looking for recompense ; I do not ask 
 So 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 mc 
 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 
 I know where Hugo fails, where Manuel leans; 
 Could blow upon the flame or snuff it out, 
 Could bring you to the leaders. 
 
 Pli. Honest Blasco, 
 
 Thou know'st the world. 
 
 Bl. J I know that one who come
 
 Act II. sc. iii.] 
 
 Palic, 
 
 10. 
 
 45 
 
 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 sei-ve me thus 
 
 I'll take instruction. 
 
 Bl. Let your grace now prove me 
 
 In any question. 
 
 Ph. This, then. We in Spain «** 
 
 Supposed that your revolt stood on two legs, 
 Over-t.axation 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. 
 
 What 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 
 May be punctilious ; but in Manuel's instance 
 There's no excuse. 
 
 Ph. I care not what men say. 
 
 And now it hurt"; 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 (^ivcs it); thou mayst 
 
 have need 
 To spend so much for me. 
 
 Bl. I thank your grace. 
 
 I shun no obligation, and I am poor. 
 
 /'//. True, all men are so. Come now to my 
 chamber. 
 Where we may talk in private. 
 
 Bl. [asiJi:). 'Tis well begim. 
 
 SCENE III. 
 
 A room in MamuPs house. Palicio reclining 
 on a long chair half-dressed. Daylight 
 nearly excluded : one candle burns. 
 
 Pal, 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 
 
 As I have done, breeds fancies much akin 
 
 To death ; else would my spirit more revolt 
 
 'Gainst this enforced 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. (/Oiociin^ heard). Some 
 
 one knocks. 
 Nay, the key turns. 'Tis Manuel. 
 
 A/ar. (al door). May I come in ? 
 
 Pal. (aside). Ah ! who is this ? Who's there ? 
 
 [Co'Mring himself. 
 
 Mar. {entcn'ug). 'Tis only I, 
 
 Manuel's sister. I have come to see 
 If I can do you any serace, lady. ^^ 
 
 J\il. He did not send you ? 
 
 Mar. Nay, but I may hope 
 
 I shall not seem to intntde, 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. 
 
 Afar. Then lying here 
 
 In pain you must want help and company. 
 'Tis well I came. May I draw back the curtains ? 
 
 Pal. 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 
 From the discovery? and how to tell her? 
 
 Mar. Now while I sit. [Pinds g07vn on the ehair. 
 . . Why, oh ! 'tis drenched with blood, 
 Your gown. Are you so hurt ? 
 
 Pal. A sword-thrust, lady. 
 
 Mar. A sword-lhrust. Ah'! 
 
 Pal. Thou camest unadvised, 
 
 Lady : I wore the gown ; if that deceived thee. 
 Y'et '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. 
 
 Afar. I pray thy pardon. 
 
 'Tw.is not mere idle curiosity 
 That 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.
 
 46 
 
 Falicio. 
 
 [Act II. 
 
 SC. 111. 
 
 jVar. Why, sir, the ihiiig 
 
 My brother means to hide is liiddeii to me. 
 
 Pa/. 'Tis not alone my life . . . 
 
 M.ir. Ah ! see the blood is trickling down thy 
 hand ! 
 
 Pii/. i'est ! it hath started freshly. 
 
 Mar. Cannot I help thee? 
 
 Pa/. Ay, 'tis the bandage on this arm. 
 
 Mar. To tie it ? 
 
 Pa/. My moving hath displaced it. 
 
 Afar. See, alas ! 
 
 The ill I have done. .Sit, I will bind it for thee. 
 
 Pa/. Myself I cannot. 
 
 Afar. Nay. Tell thou me how. 
 
 /';/. Here, round this pad. As tightly as thou 
 wilt. 
 Nay, tighter yet. 
 
 A/ar. Sliall I not harm thee ? 
 
 Pa/. Tighter. 
 
 Afar. I cannot pull it tighter. 
 
 Pa/. Knot it so. 
 
 'Twill do : the blood hath ceased. 
 
 A/ar. Oh, I am glad. 
 
 Do not thou stir : see, now, to wash thine arm 
 I'll bring thee water. \Goes for it. 
 
 Pa/, {aside). By heaven, wliere have I lived. 
 
 Like a wild beast beneath the open skies, ''"' 
 
 In dens and cave';, and never known the taste 
 Of this soft ravishment ? The rich of the earth 
 Are right : their bars and bolts aie wisely wrought 
 Having such treasure in their closed chambers. 
 
 Alar. Here 'tis. Reach forth thine arm. 
 
 Pa/, Nay, give 't to me. 
 
 Stain not thy hands. 
 
 Afar. I pray thee. 
 
 Pa/. As thou wilt. 
 
 Afar. How did it happen ? 
 
 Pa/. Wouldst thou hear it ? 
 
 Afar. Tell me. 
 
 y*a/. I had been two days in prison . . . 
 
 Afar. Tell me, first. 
 
 How could they catch thee? 
 
 /'<»/. Treachery : I was taken 
 
 l!y Hugo's soldiers as I knelt at mass. 
 Three 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. Tliey 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. 
 
 Alar. Hugo would have killed thee. 
 
 Pa/. Or let me starve ; or else some gentle mercy ; 
 Gouged my live eyeballs out, or lopped my hands. 
 
 Mar. How couldst thou 'scape? 
 
 Pa/. Now thou wilt see our people 
 
 Have their account. Tlie second niglit my gaoler 
 IJrnught in a woman with a deed to sign. 
 I knew my hope, and to her feigned reproach 
 .Vnswercd in anger back : but when she bade 
 I took the deed, and felt, beneath the paper 
 A da-.rger'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. 
 
 .Stooped to his death and fell witliout 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, 
 I 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 : 1 fled pursued, and gat me clear. 
 Leaping your garden wall. 
 
 Afar. Who was the woman ? 
 
 Pa/. One of our people. "" 
 
 Afar. May her name be told ? 
 
 f\i/. I never heard it. 
 
 Mar. 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. 
 
 Pa/. O, lady, there are many, women and men, 
 Sworn to riik life in our good cause. 
 
 j\far. Alas, 
 
 That such fine courage should be so misled ! 
 
 Pa/. Misled? how, if I lead it? 
 
 Afar. I had forgot. 
 
 Pardon me, sir. It was my brother's word. 
 
 Pa/. Ay, 'tis his word. And yet I honour Manuel. 
 Were't not for him there scarce would be a man 
 Of 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 
 ^Vhere he can take our tyrants by the arm 
 And show them baits of righteousness, and lead them 
 \Vhere they should go, shall we who lie beneath 
 Forbe.ar 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 
 He finds offence in outcry and disorder: 
 To such as without loss or shame outride 
 The storms of shifting fortune this is easy. 
 
 Alar. What dost thou but exasperate ill-will? 
 
 Pa/. Already our bread has been unta.\ed two 
 d.ays. 
 
 Afar. And may be two days more. 
 
 Pai. I have better hope, 
 
 Or had : for if I had once provoked the Spaniard 
 To set his troops against us, all the nobles, 
 \\'ho now retired hold neutral parliament. 
 Would then have joined the people, and compelled 
 The justice of our claim by force of arms. 
 
 Afar. All, say'st thou ? 
 
 Pa/. All save one or two, who are bought 
 
 With Hugo's money. 
 
 Afar. Say'st thou bought ? 
 
 Pa/. O lady. 
 
 Unto their great dishonour they are bought. 
 Even with the amassed duties our poor folk ]:ay.
 
 Act II. sc. iv.] 
 
 Palicio. 
 
 47 
 
 Ere they can bake a loaf to feed their children 
 Out of the corn their hands have sown and reaped. 
 Is not this shame ? 
 
 A/ar. 'Tis shame. 
 
 Pal. And shall Palicio 
 
 See this thing done, because he hath not office, 
 Or those few paltry florins, which miyht turn 
 The scale for poor Sicilians ? 
 
 Mar. Ah, indeed, 
 
 I knew, I felt that thou wert right ; and now 
 I see it : I never blamed thee. 
 
 Pal. No, nor Manuel 
 
 Blaines me at heart, tho* he forbid my means. 
 Tliink, 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 sufTering 
 Of them we pity ranks above redress. 
 I am come to envy thee. 
 
 Pal. And certain it is, *"" 
 
 They 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. 
 
 Jilar. 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 
 To find out and to biiul the wounded vessel. 
 Which, being unhclped of art, may run to death. 
 
 Afar. 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. 
 
 Ptil. It cannot be. 
 
 Mar. Thou mayst believe there's none 
 
 In all I'alcrmo but myself could do it : 
 Yet can 1 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 ? 
 
 Mar. Be sure, be sure. 
 
 \i\<\ with the leech. \Exit. 
 
 l\il. She is gone. 
 
 \Sccne shuts across. 
 
 SCENE IV. 
 
 Jn Manners house. Mars^arct and AFanuel 
 meeting. 
 
 Mar. Brother, what wilt thou say ? Wilt thou 
 forgive me ? 
 
 Hear me confess. 
 
 Man. What now, my mischief-maker? 
 
 Mar. I have seen Palicio. 
 
 Man. Hey ! 'twas thy evil genius 
 
 Led thee that way. 
 
 Alar. I thinking him a woman, 
 
 Offered some service : whereupon he told me 
 Who he was, all his story, and of his wound. 
 
 Mall. 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. 
 
 Mar. 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 losin of Justice while she sleeps. 
 For fear a thief should rob her : to this, moreover, 
 The claim of kinship binds me, — nay, be patient, 
 And hear me out. — Already our disorders 
 Have been reported at the .Spanish court ; 
 '1 he 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 ? 
 
 Man. 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 ? 
 
 Afan. Eh I 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. 
 
 A/an. I had thought of him, 
 
 But shrank from taxing his good-will. And yet — 
 {.■Isidi.) For his own sake 'twere kind . . . and 
 
 Margaret asks it . . . 
 Secrets, they say, discover sympathies. — 
 [Alniid.) Ay, 'lis well thought of. 
 
 A/ar. I can answer for him. 
 
 A/iin. 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. 
 'Twcre best he should not know. 
 
 A/ar. O, brother, I thank thee. 
 
 A/an. Why, girl, thou'rt crazed. 
 
 A/ar. May I not go at once ? 
 
 A/an. Nay, wait till dusk ; and see, take here 
 my seal. 
 Since thou must go alone : 'twill be thy freedom
 
 48 
 
 Palicio. 
 
 [Act II. sc. V. 
 
 From any questionings of any people. 
 Use all precautions, and impose on Rosso 
 Sacredest secrecy : 'tis thou and he 
 Must carry it thro'. Be careful. 
 
 Afar. I will put on 
 
 Some common clothing, and disguise my face. 
 I thank thee. [Exit. 
 
 Mill!. 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 
 Which comes not in nine years. 'Tis very true, 
 Fancy resenis all judgment, and another's 
 Will often kill it quite. Now, when I looked 
 Rather for anything than my own wish, — heigh-ho I 
 'Tis I tliat stand in the way. I must discourage it. 
 
 Enter Philip {-luilh some papers). 
 Ah, Philip. 
 
 Ph. Let me give you back the papers. 
 
 I have read them. 
 
 Af.in. Well ? 
 
 Ph. The viceroy's guilt is plain. 
 
 Your purpose cannot be to press this count. 
 
 Man. If the complaints, which I liave already 
 made. 
 Be quashed at court, I shall. 
 
 Ph. 'Tis peculation 
 
 So 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. W^ould 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 : 
 He 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. 
 
 Con. {to servt.). If she be not within, prithee en- 
 quire 
 Where 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. (kneelinn). 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 ! 
 
 Ph. 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 
 Wert, 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 ananjury, and to-day thou addest 
 Another worse. Knowing me now betrothed, 
 How canst thou offer to renew thy love ? 
 
 Ph. 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 
 ■\nd 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 nile with case. 
 The papers ! By heav'n, I had left them lying! [Stoops. 
 
 Ha! 
 Blood ! blood upon the floor ! I have knelt in blood. — 
 Here 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. 
 
 SCENE V. 
 
 Room in Manuel's house. Palicio as before 
 {sitting). 
 
 Pal. To stand true to a cause because 'tis noble, 
 Tho' 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
 
 Act II. sc. v.] 
 
 Falici 
 
 0. 
 
 49 
 
 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, 
 
 Take life at ease? Nay, when 'tis reasoned so, 
 
 'Tis hideous. — But, oh ! thou treacherous enemy, 
 
 Thou selfish and unanswerable passion. 
 
 That bluntest resolution, and cnest down 
 
 The voice of virtue ! Margaret, Margaret ! 
 
 Would 1 had never seen thee, or believed 
 
 I could not win thee. If 1 now could lly, 
 
 I might go free. 
 
 Sqtiarcialufti, who has appeartd at the windmv, 
 gradually thrusting his head between the cur- 
 tains, atid peering round, enters. 
 
 Sq. Captain ! 
 
 Pal. Ha ! Squarcialupu ! 
 
 Why, what ! how com'st thou here? what dost thou? 
 
 S,j. Hush ! 
 
 Pal. Begone, 1 pray. 
 
 Sq. Nay, now I have found thee, captain. 
 
 Thine arm is it only ? 
 
 Pal. A prick in the arm. 
 
 Sij. So, so I 
 Then thou canst come. 
 
 Pal. Tell me, how didst thou leam 
 
 That I was here ? 
 
 Sq. We guessed it from ihy 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. 
 
 Sq. 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. 
 Hut if thou lliest . . . 
 
 Pal. I may not. 
 
 Sq. That's no word 
 
 Where life's at stake. What shalJ 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 
 To 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 
 P.alicio licth 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. Tl-.en I think 
 
 If Manuel knew of this . . . Hark, I will come. 
 Go thou and tell my men that I will come. 
 To-inorrow morning let them look to find me 
 At Monreale. If 1 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 ivindo-M 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 ? 
 Fool 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. 
 
 Mar, [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, 
 
 Ros. {wi bandaging). Coming hither, 
 
 I thought 'twould make a pretty poem to tell 
 Of one, whose cruel mistress ne'er allowed 
 Tlie 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 . . . 
 
 Afar. Now, sir Apollo, come. Here lies your 
 patient. 
 Give him your aid, and tell your poem after. 
 
 Ros. Well, letcus see. Ay, here is all I need. 
 Set them thus on the table, and here the light. 
 So. [arranging.) 'Tis the right arm. (unbinding.) 
 Ah ! wdien was this done ? 
 
 Mar. Have you forgot, sir? questions are for- 
 bidden. 
 
 Ros. See, thou must hold his arm for me. Press 
 here 
 Thy fingers ; firmly, — so. Thou dost not faint 
 At sight of blood ? 
 
 Afar. Nay, n.iy. 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 court'eous to invite the telling : — 
 But chiefly— that it stablishes his judgment — ■ 
 Built on appearances, — and banishes '"^ 
 
 Conjecture from experience ; — as 'twould now 
 For me, — should this man s.iy, — 'twas yestcrd.ay 
 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, —
 
 5° 
 
 Pa/icio. 
 
 [Act II. 
 
 SC. V. 
 
 Thrust with— a svvor.l. — Stir not, 'tis nearly done. — 
 But I withdrew my arm ere he his weapon. — 
 Loose not thy grasp : loose not ! 
 
 Afar. Sir, my attention 
 
 Was taken liy your story. Never speak : 
 'Twilt mar your work. 
 
 J\os. '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. 
 
 lios. Nay, inference. 'Twere guess to say, the 
 skill 
 Which staunched the running blood, but could no 
 
 more, 
 Might be thy brotlier's : that this sunburnt arm, 
 Fnie 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 : 
 There must it rest until tlie wound be healed. 
 
 Mar. You have guessed the secret, sir, which we 
 withheld 
 In your respect. This is my brother's house ; 
 This is I'alicio. 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 Giovann Palicio ; 
 To whom I s.ay he need not ask of me 
 Promise or oath. The good I ajn proud to have 
 
 done 
 I shall not spoil by blabbing. ^'^ 
 
 Pal. Thank thee. Rosso. 
 
 Rjs. Noble and brave Palicio, mayst thou prosper. 
 [BaiiJaging 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. {lilintijotii). Come, lady, and lead me forth. 
 
 Mar. Wliy, 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 trille. 
 
 Ros. • And thou 
 
 Refuses! me in a trifle? Then I will d.are (imian- 
 
 daging) 
 To raise my terms. If I may kiss thy hand 
 I'll be content. 
 
 Mar. 'Tis I, sir, shoidd kiss yours. 
 
 'Tis that h.ath earned the homage ; and I'll be kind. 
 That hath done well ; and thus I kiss it. {R'isses 
 
 Rossti's hand.) Now, 
 Go, go in peace : thou'rt paid. [Making him go out. 
 
 [E.xit Rosso. 
 
 Pal. (silting). Why didst tliou that ? 
 
 Afar. He loves me. 
 
 Pal. Wouldst thou be as kind to me, 
 
 If I should love thee ? 
 
 Afar. But he sends me sonnets. 
 
 /'//. I could write sonnets. 
 
 Alar. Ah, but his are writ 
 
 In pure Sicilian. 
 
 Pal. 'Tis my proper tongue. 
 
 Alar. I have kept my promise, sir, and now mu';t 
 
 - leave. »'"" 
 
 Your wound is healed. 
 
 Pal. I fear I scarce can thank thee, 
 
 If 'tis thy word to go. Or, if thou stnyest 
 But to cure wounds, — I have another wound 
 I shewed thee not, v/hich hath a deeper seat : 
 This hand may cure it. 
 
 A/ar. Nay, what mean you, sir? 
 
 Pal. Marraret, 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. 
 
 Mar. Giovanni. 
 
 Pal. O, 'tis tme, there's nothing noble, 
 
 Beautiful, sacred, dear, familiar to me, 
 I hold now at a straw's h orth : body and soul 
 I am thine, Margaret, I am thine. O, answer me ! 
 
 Alar. Giovanni, 'lis so strange. 'Tis best I go. 
 
 /'//. Thou didst kiss Rosso's hand. 
 
 Afar. For love of thee. 
 
 Didst thou not guess? 
 
 /'../. O, then, my dearest, kiss me 
 
 Now for myself. Can it be true thou lovest me ? 
 
 Afar. Alas I 'tis learned loo quickly. 
 
 Pal. Can I think it. 
 
 Spite of my sav.age life, my outlawry. 
 My poverty ? 
 
 Afar. O, what are these ? 
 
 Pal. Indeed, 
 
 My blood is noble. 
 
 Afar. 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. 
 
 /';/. But canst thou share my life ? 
 
 Afar. I am restless for it. 
 
 Pal. Leave thy rank ? thy wealth ? 
 
 Afar. I have lived too long that counterfeit of life. 
 I'll strive like thee : something I'll do, like thee, 
 To lessen misery. Nay, if man's curse 
 Hang in necessity, I have the heart 
 To combat that, and find if in some p.art 
 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? 
 
 Afar. There's none can hinder it. 
 
 Pal. O, blessed joy ! 
 
 Yet how can I be sure, love, that thou knowest, 
 Finding the word so ea.sy, what a mountain 
 Tlicre 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_
 
 Act II. sc. v.] 
 
 Palicio. 
 
 51 
 
 Mar. Try me, Giovanni. 
 
 Pal. Wilt thou aid nie, love, 
 
 To fly to-night? By morning I may meet 
 My men at ."-an Martino : all my scliemes 
 May yet be saved. 
 
 A/a?: Ah ! will thou go, Giovanni ? 
 
 Thou'rt yet loo weak. 
 
 J"al. My presence, not my strength. 
 
 Is needed. 
 
 Mar. Alas ! I fear. 
 
 Pa/. What, i\rargaref, dost thou fear? 
 
 Mai: Only for tliee. Yet go ; I can be with thee 
 By 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. 
 
 Pal. What do I owe thee ! 
 
 Freedom, and life, and love, — thy love . . O, Mar- 
 garet, 
 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. I 
 
 Pal. ' Say at what hour 
 
 I may go hence ; and how. 
 
 Mar. At dead of night : 
 
 'Tis safest then. 
 
 Pal. And will thou come thyself? 
 
 Mar. When the church bell with double stroke 
 hath tolled 
 The death-knell of to-morrow's second hour, 
 While its last jar yet shelters in the car. 
 Listen : and at thy door when thou shall catch 
 A small and wakeful noise, such as is made 
 By the sharp teeth of an unvcnturous ]nouse, 
 -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 ihou must send me tidings. Now, farewell. 
 
 Pal. Yet not farewell. 
 
 Mar. To-night I shall not see thee : 
 
 Nor 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 Ihee. 
 
 Pal. Ay, for the giver ever 
 
 If aih the best share. And thus I kiss thee, love. 
 Farewell. 
 
 Mar. Be ready. 
 
 Pal. Trust me. 
 
 Mar. And take thy dagger. 
 
 Farewell. iGoiiig. 
 
 ACT III. 
 
 SCENE I. 
 
 Hall in Manuel's house. Manuel and 
 Margaret. 
 
 Man, Nay, 'twas ill done. The often window 
 shews 
 He made a breakneck leap into the street. 
 I searched the room, in case he might have left 
 Some explanation written : there was none. 
 I am vexed. 'Tis a most graceless breach of trust. 
 
 Mar. What promise made he? 
 
 Man. None was asked. The knowledge 
 
 Of duty were enougli to bind a man 
 Far less obliged. And then 'tis thankless, Margaret. 
 Twice have we saved his life : first I, then thou : 
 .\nd while we sleep he files. I blame myself, 
 I should have pledged his word. 
 
 Mar. lladst 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. 
 We must forget the matter. I have summons '-'"' 
 From Hugo, and must leave. 
 
 Mar. And when I have done 
 
 Thy bidding m.ay I go to Monreale ? 
 
 Man. You wish it? 
 
 Alar. Yes. 
 
 Man. What calls you there? 
 
 Mar. A visit. 
 
 I'll take Lucia, and can ride Rosamund. 
 
 Alan. 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. Mannel, I promise — 
 
 Alan. I want no promises ; but if thuu gocst 
 Remember . . . 
 
 Alar. Why, I'll promise . . . 
 
 Man. Nay, I bid. 
 
 Only be wi-;e. Wilt thou be back to-night? 
 
 Alar. To-morrow, may I stay so long. 
 
 Alan. Ay, stay. 
 
 Have good care of thyself. Farewell. \^Exit, 
 
 Alar. Farewell. 
 
 {Calling.) Lucia, Lucia ;'"come, Lucia, come! 
 
 Enter Lucia. 
 
 Lti. My lady. 
 
 Alar. To horse, Lucia! we start at once. 
 
 Order the horses. 
 
 Lu. Holy Mary, defend us ! 
 
 It cannot be thou meanest . . . 
 
 Alar. What is this, now ? 
 
 Last night didst thou not promise ? 
 
 Ln. If I did, 
 
 'Twas madness : think of the risk. 
 
 Mar. I take the risk. 
 
 Ln. Consider. 
 
 A/ar. I have considered. 
 
 Lu. O, dear mistress,
 
 52 
 
 Palicio. 
 
 [Act III. sc. ii. 
 
 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 ! 
 
 X.H. 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. 
 
 Mar. 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, 
 H.ad he not read it in my heart's delight 
 I 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 : 
 For, oh, tlie 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. 
 Ph. 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. 
 
 Mar. 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. (AsiiJe. ) 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 tlie track. There has 
 been 
 
 At 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. 
 
 SCENE II. 
 
 On the hills above Monreale. Brigands fan- 
 tasiically dressed and armed are seated 
 about on the rocks, ivitk drinking cups 
 and remains of feast. Palicio, in a black 
 suit, his right arm in a sling. Much talk- 
 ing and singing, or the scene may open 
 with the follo'wing song — 
 
 SONG. 
 
 I would not change the hills that I range 
 
 For a house iai 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.) 
 
 Sij. Long live Lord Palicio I 
 
 All. Huzzah ! Huzzah ! 
 
 Pal. 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. 
 
 L'al. See ye the sun is on this side of the city. 
 
 Brigands. 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. 
 
 Si/. I know 
 
 What they would have. 
 
 Pal. Sing then : and cut it short. 
 
 Sf/. Nay, that lies with the chorus. W'ho 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.) 
 
 Edod 1 and I have mine. '*'" 
 
 If you'd see me fight, 
 IVhy let me taste good cheer. 
 Was not I as good as my word? 
 Edod ! am I not here ? 
 CHOR. Am I not lure? (ad lib.) 
 
 (Palicio gets up as before.) 
 
 Sg. 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.
 
 Act III. sc. ii.] 
 
 Palicio. 
 
 53 
 
 Gather your companies at tryst to-night ; 
 Acquaint them of our plans. Once, ere ye go, 
 Looli on those tyrannous lowers, and swear revenge. 
 Revenge on them that grind the people down ! 
 That tax our bread and wine ! To-morrow night 
 Hugo sliall need no candles. 
 
 I>rii;iUids. 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. 
 
 Pal. 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, 
 
 Brigands. Huzzah ! 
 
 During follmiiing scene the brigands going, carrying 
 off things to cave. 
 
 Sq. Come, help clear off this gear to the cave. 
 
 A brig. Any wine in yon skin, good Scjuarcia? 
 
 Sq. Ay, for the chewing. 
 
 Brig. Thank ye. I'm off. Good-day, lads. 
 
 [Exit. 
 
 Sq. Did I not well, I say? 
 
 A brig. But how didst thou find him ? — tell us. 
 
 Si/. 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 in- 
 stinct. 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 
 bandaged . . . 
 
 Brig. Is his arm broke? 
 
 S(i. Ay, and where the nerve runs to tlie 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 thnu 
 see 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. 
 A 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 brig. Well, he would. 
 
 Another. 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. 
 
 Mar. 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? 
 
 /';/. 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. Tliey hold together 
 
 On certain claims that toucli their own estate. 
 But in their hale of Hugo they will join us 
 At first report of our success ; and that 
 I'll make llame forth. 
 
 A/ar. Alas ! what canst thou do, 
 
 Having so little means? 
 
 Pal. To-morrow night 
 
 We 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. 
 
 Alar. Nay, but you force him . . 
 
 The viceroy to yield up his power to a rebel ! 
 Hugo, his person to your hated hands I 
 
 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 I ask what ! Methinks 
 the world 
 Holds but one treasure— thee : and thou dost wrong 
 Creation, 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 ? 
 
 /*;/. Love thee? O, Margaret, when I look on 
 thee, 
 And see the d.izzling wealth, with which I hardly 
 Shall scrape to heaven, may God forgive me, love. 
 But I would be for ever pinched in htll. 
 Rather than miss thee.
 
 54 
 
 Palicio. 
 
 [Act III. sc. iii. 
 
 To me art thou as precious : 
 Where is the list of names ? 
 
 Wliat read I here ? These are ihy 
 
 Mar. 
 Theiefore be wise. 
 
 I'al. 'Tis here. 
 
 Mar. 
 
 captains, 
 Palicio : these thy rivals, Margaret ! 
 Why, 'mongst these names — nay, tho' I here see 
 
 names 
 Renowned for outrage — there is not one name 
 (If such respect, that I can think it possible 
 Its lca<lership 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, — 
 And trust the people's rights to Manuel ; 
 Leave them to the barons : we've a belter 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. 
 
 Alar. Else are we lost. 
 
 Pal. Nay, fear not : there's a traitor 
 
 In the enemy's camp ; from whom I'll have sucli 
 
 tidings 
 As will ensure success. 
 
 Mar. Who is it ? 
 
 Pal. Blasco. 
 
 Mar. Blasco ! • 
 
 Pal. He hath your money ; and for 
 
 that price 
 Will 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 to- 
 gether. 
 
 Pal. I mean it should. To-night our fellows meet 
 In various rendezvous, as you may see 
 Upon the paper. There are ten in all. 
 They will not need my jiresence 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. 
 
 Mar. No, 'tis forgiven. 
 
 Pal. (going). Kiss me. 
 
 Mar. Ah, now, Giovanni, 
 
 WHiere wilt tliou go ? 
 
 J'al. 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. 1 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 ? Ben- 
 
 dettu 
 Jacupu . . and your place ? — within the cloister 
 Of Santo Spirito. Next, Squarcialiipu . . . 
 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. 
 Vou 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 1 caimot read. 
 B-o-n-o-liononio, 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 : 
 Return 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. 
 
 Lu. 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. 
 
 Mar. 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. 
 
 SCENE III. 
 
 A room in the palace. Enter Hugo and 
 Constance. 
 
 Hu. Thou hast a daughter's duty, I a father's : 
 'Tis mine to seek thy good, thine to obey. 
 Con. I pray thee, father, hear me.
 
 Act III. sc. iii.] 
 
 Pali 
 
 CIO. 
 
 55 
 
 Hh. I liave 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 — 
 It shall be welcome. Though tliy words to him 
 ISetrayed 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 ! 
 
 Hti. Constance, I pray, be sober. 
 
 I am sorry for thee : but what seems thy grief 
 Will be thy comfort, vvlien thou learn'st the cause 
 Which presses me to urge it. 
 
 Con. What lies behind ? 
 
 W'hat misery? Say ! 
 
 Hit. Manuel, whom late we trusted, 
 
 Hath turned against rae. He hath joined the 
 rebels. "'" 
 
 Con. 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 1 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. 
 
 If this be all I breathe again. The time 
 When thou wilt prove this 'twill away like smoke. 
 Not tUl 'tis proved question our marriage, father. 
 
 Hu. '!'he question now with him is not of marriage, 
 But of his head. 
 
 Con. Shame, shame ! if these be words, 
 
 What is their sense ? 
 
 Hh. 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 
 
 Where 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 
 Hoth 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. 
 
 Enkr Philip. 
 
 Your grace, 
 I have stayed for you. 
 
 J'k. 'Tis well. I bring conviction. 
 
 Palicio lies in Manuel's house. His room 
 Is locked and darkened : save for that, and orders 
 That none shall enter, there is no precaution. 
 Hu. The abominable Pharisee 1 
 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. N.ay, the more 
 Such right's resented, niore's the need to use it. — 
 And from a traitor's house ! 
 
 Ph. (giving). Your privilege, sir. 
 
 Invades my honour. 
 
 Hu. Tut, tut, tut, 'tis mine : [Takes i/. 
 
 Be not so squeamish. [Kcculs. 
 
 I can wri/c all's -well. 
 Yd, as thou Icrvest Manuel, breathe no word 
 Of aught I saw. I go from home to-day ; 
 Will see thee iLihai returned. — Why, this is nothing. 
 
 Ph. Taken alone 'twere nothing ; but there's 
 nothing 
 Could better fit our knowledge ; nay it adds j 
 To what we know. I see that Margaret Ilies 
 From the discovery that she hath made herself; 
 And fears for Manuel. I grieve but for her. 
 His enmity to you precludes all pity. i^"" 
 
 I have come to see his papers, which contain 
 Charges against your excellence, preparefl 
 With such unfriendly skill, that to discredit lliem, 
 Should ever they reach couit, would cost far more 
 Than any price or pains you now mi.L;lit 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 
 May sail this evening, and with them aboaid 
 .Shall Manuel fare to the king with his accusers. 
 We shall at least be rid of him. I will call him. 
 
 [Kings a bell. 
 Thou hast done me a good service. 
 
 Ph. Shall I remain? 
 
 Hu. I beg you. The cursed villain ! 
 
 Enter Sei-vant. 
 _ I await 
 
 The chief justiciary. Shew him hither. [Exit ser7'!. 
 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 uiuiermine 
 The fabric of the throne, — yet have I shared 
 His 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. 
 
 Afan. 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 
 Thou hast done justice honour, holding up 
 Her majesty for worship: we ourselves
 
 56 
 
 Palicio. 
 
 [Act III. sc. iii. 
 
 Have strained cr 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 Jolm PaMcio. Deny 't I pray thee. 
 
 Man. 'Tis true, your excellence. 
 
 Nu. Then first I bid thee 
 
 Return him into custody. 
 
 J\/iui. Last night 
 
 He left me without wanting. '"'"' 
 
 Hii. Gone ! Then, by heaven ! 
 
 Thou'rt doubly guilty. 
 
 Man, I admit my guilt 
 
 Upon the point of negligence : for the rest 
 1 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 . . . 
 
 Hit. Enough ! 
 
 Thou dost admit the act : 'tis downright treason. 
 I'll hear no answer. Thou;^h thou wouldst deny 
 My authority, thou shalt not doubt my power. 
 Thou art my prisoner. To-night the embassy 
 \Vill sail for Spain. Thou goest with them to plead 
 Thy cause before the king. 
 
 Man. I shall be ready, sire. 
 
 Hii. 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. 
 
 3Ian. I pray your excellence, for your daughter's 
 sake . . . 
 
 Hii. My daughter ! could I wed her to a traitor. 
 Would she herself consent ? 
 
 Enter Livio ivilh the l<ool\ and Blanco. 
 
 Man. Call me not traitor. 
 
 Ere I be proved one. 
 
 Hii. (to /)/.). Ho ! call in the guard. \F.xit Blasco. 
 {To Lk>.) What bring you, son? [Tn/is with him. 
 
 Man. (to Ph. ). Philip, before I go ; — 
 
 Thou see'st my case. Fate would look black upon nie. 
 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. 
 
 Enter Blasco with Guards. 
 One word and I am gone. Beware of Blasco. 
 He bears two faces. See he be not trusted 
 With aught of moment. 
 
 Hu. (ta officer of guard). The chief justiciary is your 
 prisoner 
 On charge of treason. Guard him in the palace 
 Till you hear more. 
 
 Afan, (to Ph.). Stand my friend, and God aid thee. 
 
 [Exit guarded. 
 
 Ph. (nsitie). And so I may. I am not yet stepped 
 so far 
 That I must push my purpose, where it wounds 
 Such ample trust. 
 
 I/ii. Philip, see here. 
 
 Ph. \\'hat, 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 ? 
 
 Liv. 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 thnist 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, 
 
 Seize 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. 
 
 Ph. 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. 
 
 I'h. I pray you. Nay, he is gone. I must stand 
 to it. 
 I play to win ; .and now the st.akcs 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 
 Cognizant. — 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. 
 
 Enter Hugo with Constance. 
 
 Hu. 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.
 
 Act III. sc. iii.] 
 
 Palicio. 
 
 57 
 
 This is not Manuel's treason. First of that : 
 Where's the pretended proof? 
 //k. He hath confessed it. 
 
 Cofi. 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. 
 
 //«. He both is guilty 
 
 And hath confessed. 
 
 Coil. To what hath he confessed? 
 
 What deed that hatred thus can magnify ? 
 
 J/it. '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 leagtie 
 With the conspirators. 
 
 Ci'H. I believe it not. 
 
 Would he speak for you, he were here to spe.ak. 
 //ir But if at least he hath gone out from the 
 palace 
 Under strict guard, and sails to-night for Spain ? 
 Con. He is gone ? 
 J/ii. He is gone. 
 
 Con. ^ Under constraint ? 
 
 //u. Most certain, 
 
 And charged with treason. 
 
 Con. {burning to Ph.). Now, Philip, I bid thee 
 speak. 1™ 
 
 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. 
 
 Hii. 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, 
 Recover 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 
 filher 
 Ilalh 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. 
 
 /'/;. O, Constance, think not 
 
 That could I end thy sorrow by denial 
 Of what thou hast heard, I would not. All is true. 
 My 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 h!ith writ in secret. They are addressed to Spain, 
 And would have been presented . . . 
 
 Con. 'Tis his writing. 
 
 Whence 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. \E.xit. 
 
 Ph. And I could wince 
 
 At such reproach, had I dissembled further 
 Than loyalty may deign, grappling with treason. 
 Her anger springs but of that nobleness 
 Which makes her love worth winning ; and in the 
 
 end 
 It shall be mine again. \Exit. 
 
 SCENE IV. 
 
 On the hills above Moureale, as be/ore. Enter 
 Falicio and Margaret. 
 
 Mar. How fresh the morning air is. See how 
 the mist 
 Melts in the sun, and while we look is gone, 
 Leisurely leathered on his sloping beams. 
 And guarded by her angel towers the city 
 Sleeps like an island in the solemn gray : 
 'Tis beauteous. — 
 
 Pal. 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. 
 
 Pal. 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 failh. 
 
 All will be well. 
 
 Mar. Pray heaven it be. 
 
 Pal. O, Margaret, 
 
 Speak not so sadly : I would have thee brave 
 To clieer me on as they. Last night I dreamed 
 That thou hadst turned against me. 
 
 Mar. What, Giovanni ? 
 
 I'al. Thou didst deride me. 
 
 Mar. I deride thy dream. 
 
 /';/. 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. — 
 
 Mar. See here the flowers 
 
 I h.ave plucked. Know'st thou, Giovanni, why they 
 grow ?
 
 5« 
 
 Palicio. 
 
 [Act 111. sc. iv. 
 
 Pal. How meanest thou ? 
 
 Mar. Why in one place one flower 
 
 Will grow, and not another. 
 
 Fat. 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 
 Differed in blood alive, with various power 
 Favour the various vegetable germs 
 With kindred specialty. This herb, I think. 
 Grows where the Greek liath 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 while petals are immeshed about 
 With delicate sprigs of green ? 'Tis therefore called 
 Love-in-a-mist. 
 
 Pal. Who is this thistle liere ? 
 
 Mar. O, he, with plumed crest, springing all 
 armed 
 In steely lustre, and erect as Mars, 
 That is the Roman. 
 
 J'al, Find the Saracen. 
 
 Mar. This hot gladiolus, with waving swords 
 And crying colour. 
 
 Pal. And this marigold ? 
 
 iMar. That is the Nonnan ; nay, his furious blood 
 Blazes the secret. 'Tis said where'er he roamed 
 Tliis 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 ? '»"" 
 
 Mar. 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. W.as 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 
 For those few coins thou gav'st me in thy bag. 
 
 {Mar. lakes letter. 
 Gold goeth in at any gate but heaven's.' 
 Ay, 'tis his writing, tho' it be not signetl. 
 It tells how Hugo would escajie by ship, 
 And how to intercept him. 
 
 Enter hastily a Brigand. 
 
 Brig. 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 
 
 Closely surrounded at their several trysts 
 
 By Hugo's soldiers ; bound, and taken to prison. 
 
 Pal. O, Christ ! my dream. 
 
 Mar. [ojide). Now, well done, Livio ! 
 
 Done like a man. 
 
 ]\il. Thou say'st all taken ? 
 
 Brig. All. 
 
 Mar. iiiside). I fear joy will Ijelray me. 
 
 Pal. It caimot be 
 
 They are all betrayed. 
 
 Brig. As many as had assendjied 
 
 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. ('Po Pal. 
 aside.) O, fly, Giovanni ! 
 Fly now with me ! thou see'st this game is lost. 
 
 J\il. Be still awhile. {To Brigand.) And where 
 wert thou ? 
 
 Brig. In the city, 
 
 From house to house. 
 
 Pal. What say they there ? 
 
 Bn'g. 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. 
 
 /',;/. Go to the hut : 
 
 There I will join you. [E^:it Brigand. 
 
 Margaret, fare thee well 
 Now for some time. This most untoward treason 
 Demands my care. Lucia is not far. 
 
 Mar. What wilt thou do ? 
 
 Pal. Whatever may be done : 
 
 Trust me. 
 
 .'\/ar. 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. \E.xil. 
 
 Alar. O, I had betrayed myself but that my 
 fear "*^'" 
 
 Took other pretext. Ah ! well done, well done ! 
 The ruffians caught — Giovanni safe, and mine ; 
 Giovanni mine. Ah, Messer Squareialupu, 
 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. 
 
 Lit. Here I am. 
 
 J/(»-. The men are caught, Lucia ; all goes well. 
 There's none to take Giovanni from me now. 
 We go to Rome. But first I must see Manuel. .
 
 Act IV. sc. i.] 
 
 I'a/icio. 
 
 59 
 
 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 
 
 He mounts for speed. He rides to Monreale. 
 
 Alar. Now we sliall 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 ami 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. Afy men suspect me. 
 0/ those who held this secret, 1 alone 
 Was absent. Manuel's shelter, my escape, 
 Thy presence here, all point alike at me. 
 I could not say farewell ! H'hcn thou hast this 
 I am gone. J ride to join my men in prison. 
 
 i\lar. Ah ! ah I 1 knew it, I knew it ! what have 
 I done ? \Siiiks doion. 
 
 Lu. Mistress, my dearest mistress ! '"** 
 
 ACT IV. 
 
 SCENE I. 
 
 The hall in AIa7iuer s house : it is hung with 
 black. Philip and Livio ; the latter dressed 
 in black, at a desk. 
 
 Ph. Argue not with me, Livio: Manuel's death 
 Lies at my door. This last calastrojihe 
 Followed on his disgrace, which I was main 
 To bring about. 
 
 Liv. But since his guilt was clear. 
 
 Your deed was honourable. 
 
 Bh. I am not sure. 
 
 I was too hasty. How can I quit myself 
 In the ill I have done thy sister ? 
 
 Liv. Her fever, duke. 
 
 Cannot be laid to you. 
 
 Ph. 'Twas the three shocks 
 
 Following so fast. Manuel's disgrace, and then 
 My suit urged out of time, and lasl his death : 
 'Twill be no wonder if her mind give way. 
 
 Liv. Please heaven it pass. I never thought she 
 loved him 
 So well. 
 
 /'/;. Nor I, be .sure. Where is that Blasco? 
 
 Liv. He went to gather what the sailors know 
 Of Manuel's end. 
 
 Ph. No hope but that he's drowned. 
 
 I go now to the palace. Should I meet 
 With Blasco, it may be I shall detain him. \_Going. 
 
 Liv. Ah ! 
 
 Ph. He has lied to me. 
 
 Liv. If there be better tidings 
 
 Of Constance, send them hither. 
 
 Ph. Indeed I will. 
 
 Is there no news of Margaret ? 
 
 Liv. Not a word. 
 
 \Exit Philip. 
 She knows I am here, no doubt : but when she hears 
 Of Manuel's death she must return. — I think 
 That when her brother lived to do his worst, 
 My suit had fairer chance. 
 
 Enter Blasco. 
 
 Well, count, what news ? 
 
 Bl. Excellent. ^Manuel was drowned, drowned 
 like a dog. 
 I have seen the captain of the ship that 'scaped. 
 He tells that, putting forth at night, they kept 
 Their course till dawn, when in a fog they drave 
 On the French fleet, some two-and-twenty sail. 
 Of our five vessels three were taken : one, 
 His own, escaped, and the other — that's the one 
 On which ."iailtd Manuel — by a tall ship, 
 Which Hew the admiral's pennon, was run down, 
 And sunk in sight. 
 
 Liv. The news will please my father, 
 
 As it doth thee. For me 'tis ruin : my hnpe' 
 I might please Margaret working for her brother 
 Is gone. Now will she hate me more than ever. 
 
 Bl. You never could have won her while he livcil. 
 
 Liv. Well, take these papers. There are lure 
 the orders ^'•'-■^ 
 
 For the execution of Palicio 
 To-morrow, in the public square, at noon. 
 See them in proper hands. They need a seal. 
 
 Bl. 'Twill be a pleasure. 'Twas the kindest 
 freak, 
 This self-surrender. 
 
 Liv. He was strangely dashed. 
 
 Looking for Manuel, to find me here. 
 
 Bl. He'll find that friend no more. 
 
 Lii'. Take them and go. 
 
 And for the present, count, avoid the duke : 
 He is angry with thee. \Exit Blasco. 
 
 I shall not leave this house 
 Till I be sure Margaret means not to come. 
 The unkindest tempers are broke down by grief: 
 And since she cannot blame me, she may find 
 Comfort in my compassion, ^ay, and thank me 
 For some consideration. — She will see 
 I have put on black, and set the house in mourning, 
 Have ordered mass, have had his room shut up . . . 
 Is there now nothing more ? Why, who is this ? 
 
 Enter Margaret, thro7ving off a veil. 
 Mar. Livio ! thou here ! Where is my brother?
 
 6o 
 
 I'alicio. 
 
 [Act IV. sc. i. 
 
 Oh! 
 
 Lit: 
 Margaret ! 
 
 Mar. Where is my brother ? I am come 
 
 To speak with him. Where is he ? 
 
 Liv. Hast thou heard nothing? 
 
 Mar. Heard what ? Where is he ? 
 
 Liz>. O, if thou knowest not . . 
 
 Mar. What is it ? speak. Why is the house in 
 black? 
 What means it ? say. 
 
 Liv. Nayi let it not be me 
 
 To tell thee. 
 
 Mar. Thinkest thou my fancy's horror 
 
 Is gentler than thy bluntest tale ? Speak quickly. 
 
 Liv. 'Twas on his own confession of connivance 
 In John Palicio's shelter and escape, '^^ 
 
 My father put him from his place, and sent him 
 To answer to this charge before the king. 
 He sailed two nights ago. The ship . . . 
 
 Mar. Go on, sir ! 
 
 Liv. Our ships fell in with the enemy, and all 
 But two were captured, one on which he sailed, 
 And one which brought the news. 
 
 Mar. And Manuel's ship ? 
 
 ■ Liv. 'Tis said the ship on which he sailed was 
 sunk. 
 
 Mar. (falUng on a cliair). Sunk, say you, and 
 he? . . . , 
 
 Liv. My sister at the tidings straight fell ill, 
 And her mind wanders. Bear a braver heart. 
 
 Mar. O, fatal day. 'Tis I, 'tis 1 have done it. — 
 And did none see him ? 
 
 Liv. Margaret, dearest Margaret, 
 
 Take courage. I have shared thy sorrow, Margaret : 
 Cannot I comfort thee? O, sweetest Margaret, 
 Thou dost not know my love. 
 
 Mar. [standing, ami sheaving the dagger). Kvia:^ ! 
 away ! 
 
 Liv. Nay, wherefore tieat me thus ? 
 
 Mar. Is this an hour 
 
 To force thy love upon me ? 
 
 Liv. Margaret, 
 
 Ilast thou no pity? 
 
 Mar. Think if I have pity 
 
 To spend on thee. 
 
 Liv. If thou wouldst slay me, Margaret, 
 
 Thou need'st no dagger. 
 
 Mar. Sir, stand back, I say : 
 
 And first tell plainly what thou knowest. One ship 
 Of three escaped ? 
 
 Liv. The hindmost 'twas, that fled . . 
 
 Mar. And brought the tidings ? 
 
 Liv. Ay. 
 
 Mar. And was none saved 
 
 Out of the ship which sunk ? 
 
 Liv. 1 know not. 
 
 Mar. Know'stnot? 
 
 There's hope, thank God. And thou !— Why, if in 
 
 thy heart 
 Lurked the least feeling, 'twould have shewn this 
 
 side, 
 Not leapt to the worst . . . Come, sir, I'll keep 
 
 this sorrow : 
 'Tis not with thee I'd share my fear for Manuel . . . 
 Nor any other ; tho' my need compels me, 
 If thou'rt the man sits in his place. 
 
 Liv. I am. 
 
 Mar. lie would have aided me. 
 
 Liv. But I will aid thee 
 
 More than a brother. Thou canst ask no favour 
 I will not grant. 
 
 Mar. Sir, I shall ask no favour : 
 
 Nor aught but what it is thy part to grant, 
 Unless it be promise of secrecy. 
 
 Liv. O, but one secret with thee ! there's no jewel 
 In all the world I would esteem as that. 
 
 ]Mar. Where's Giovanni Palicio, sir? 
 
 Liv. Palicio ! 
 
 Mar. Ay, he's my kinsman. 
 
 Liv. He is in the palace dungeon, 
 
 Awaiting death. 
 
 Mar. He's my near kinsman, Livio, 
 
 And must not die : and, being condemned to die, 
 I, as his kinswoman, desire a pass ^""^ 
 
 To visit him in prison when I choose. [Livio writes. 
 My purpose with him is to extort a pledge 
 That he will leave the country, on which condition 
 I look for his release. 
 
 Liv. Here is the order. 
 
 And use it as thou wilt. 
 
 Mar. (taking). I thank you for it. 
 
 Liv. If 'tis so near thee he go quit, what means 
 Better than mine to work it ? 
 
 Mar. I have means. 
 
 Liv. With whom ? 
 
 Mar. I have the means. ' 
 
 Liv. Believe it not. 
 
 There's none could win this favour of my father. 
 Hath not his cry been Death to Hugo ? 
 He's more than rebel. There's a private hate 
 Which makes his sentence grateful. 
 
 Mar. I have means. 
 
 Liv. 'Twere easier wouldst thou trust me. See, 
 'tis done 
 Without more words. Margaret, I'll risk this thing 
 For thee. Palicio shall escape to .Spain, 
 To Naples, where thou wilt, if thou . . . 
 
 Mar. If what ? 
 
 Liv. Margaret, accept my love. 
 
 Mar. O, Livio, 
 
 I am too sad to be angi-y with thee now. 
 But know if ever thou wouldst merit love 
 By generosity, thou must not beg 
 A bargain. "Do this and I'll love thee,'' ay, 
 That may be said, but not " I'll do this thing 
 If thou wilt love me": and thou, Livio, 
 A chief justiciary ! 
 
 Enter Blasco. 
 Liv. Hush, I pray thee ! 
 
 Bl. The lady Margaret ! We are very hapjiy 
 In this return. 
 
 Mar. (aside to Blasco). What hadst thou of 
 
 Palicio? 
 Bl. Ha ! Sayst thou ? . . 
 Mar. {aside). Meet me at the palace, count. 
 I have thy letter. [To Liv.) I see there is no place 
 
 here 
 In my house for me. I have still a hope, and in it 
 Shall fortify my comfort . . . If aught is heard 
 I shall be with thy sister. Thou and Blasco 
 May serve me if ye will. [Exit.
 
 Act IV. sc. ii.] 
 
 Palicio. 
 
 6i 
 
 Liv. What said slie to you ? 
 
 Bl. Alt not thou too accustomed to her wit ? 
 I bring ill news. Thy sister still is worse, 
 And calls for thee, and Rosso thinks 'tis well 
 That thou shouldst go. 
 
 Liv. Bide thou here in my place . . . 
 
 Bl. Nay, I must go with thee. [Extuiil. 
 
 SCENE II. 
 
 A public place. Manuel disguised as a friar 
 tneeimg Rosso. 
 
 Man. 'Tis doctor Rosso. 
 
 Ros. At your service, father. 
 
 Man. May I speak with thee ? 
 
 Ros. With pleasure. 
 
 Man. Stand we aside. 
 
 Hast thou forgotten me ? 
 
 Ros. Nay, for I think 
 
 I have never seen thee ... or I ask thy pardon. 
 
 Man. Now thou shouldst know me well. 
 
 Ros. Thy voice I think 
 
 I do remember. 
 
 Man. (Jiscovering). Do you know me now ? 
 
 Ros. Manuel ! Thank God ! 
 
 Man. Is it a good disguise ? 
 
 Ros. Metamorphosis . . if indeed 'tis thou, 
 In such a husk. Then thou'rt not drowned ! 
 
 Man. Indeed, 
 
 There was a time when I had some fear to be ; 
 But how came you to know it? ^^ 
 
 Ros. Of the ships 
 
 One returned home with news that thine was sunk. 
 Was not that true ? 
 
 Man. Ay, ay. 
 
 Ros. How didst thou 'scape ? 
 
 Man. I took my only chance, leapt overboard 
 And swam to the enemy. By heavenly fortune 
 The ship that ran us down was Raymond's, he 
 Who served so long with us. I had left my foes 
 To find old friends : and when the fight was o'er, 
 I told him in what hapless case I stood, 
 And promising to hold myself no less 
 His prisoner, and surrender to his master 
 At Naples if need were, I bade him land me 
 By niglit at Cefaledi ; there arrived, 
 By the good sailor friars I was clad 
 In the disguise you see, and came in speed 
 To look to matters here. 
 
 Ros. There is great need. 
 
 Man. Ay, my affairs with Constance ? 
 
 Ros. I grieve to tell 
 
 Constance is lying ill. 
 
 A/an. She is in your hands ? 
 
 Ros. Ay. 
 
 Man. Doth she doubt of me ? 
 
 Ros. At your committal 
 
 A fever must have seized her. Then your death. 
 Which should have been concealed, was urged upon 
 
 her, 
 In countenance of duke Philip's suit . . . 
 
 Man. How? Philip I 
 
 Ros. Did you not guess ? 
 
 Man. Is't possible ? 
 
 Ros. At that 
 
 Her mind gave way : 'tis question of her life. 
 
 Mati. I bring the medicine to work her cure. 
 Is't not enough ? 
 
 Ros. I trust so. 
 
 Man. And I think it. 
 
 How blind I have been I I trusted Philip, and he 
 Was playing against me. Time will right me. 
 
 Rosso, 
 In this as in the other. Patience. And what 
 Of your affairs . . 
 
 Ros. How mine? 
 
 Man. Your love affairs. 
 
 Ros. My love affairs ? 
 
 Man. Ay, — Margaret. 
 
 Ros. Margaret ? 
 
 Man. Can I be wrong? Her head was turned 
 the day 
 She brought you to Palicio. 
 
 Ros. O, Manuel, 
 
 This makes it sure. 
 
 Man. Yes, and I'm glad of it. 
 
 Ros. Nay, nay : pray hear me. On the very day 
 Palicio left your house, she went, 'twas said, 
 To Monreale : there she hath not been seen. 
 Was't to Palicio? 
 
 Man. Now, please God, thou'rt wrong. 
 
 Say, where is he ? 
 
 Ros. Stranger than all, he has made 
 
 Surrender of himself to Livio, 
 Our new justiciaiy, and awaits his death 
 In Hugo's dungeon. 
 
 Man. How ! And Margaret ? 
 
 Ros. She hath now this morn returned, full of 
 distraction 
 As well might be, but firm beyond her wont. 
 She is in the palace, where she nurses Constance 
 With the cool skill of one that hath his stake 
 Ventured elsewhere . . . 
 
 Man. Good God ! Now if thou'rt right. 
 
 Rosso, this matter needs me more than the other. 
 Thank heaven I am here. Constance is in thy 
 
 hands : 
 Thou hast her cure. Yet use it with discretion, 
 Knowing my hazard. I shall visit at once "'*' 
 
 The archbishop ; he will stand my friend, and give me 
 Commission in the habit of a priest 
 To see Palicio. Nay, there's not a moment 
 To lose. Thou mayst contrive that Constance too 
 Should send for me ; maybe I thus might see her. 
 Farewell. I go, yet must I take a name ; 
 Let it be Thomas, father Thomas. To-night 
 Can I rest at thy house ? 
 
 Ros. I pray you will. 
 
 Man. An hour hence couldst thou meet me there ? 
 
 Ros. I will. 
 
 God speed you. 
 
 Man. O, Rosso, Rosso, I fear thou'rt right . . . 
 
 [Exit. 
 
 Ros. Ay, ay. I'm right. Alas for Manuel. 
 'Tis almost pity he is escaped from death. 
 I would tell Constance, but her throbbing brain 
 Hath no interpreter, and in her ear 
 All words are meaningless, or mean alike 
 Something insane, which in her eager dreaming 
 -Steals the world's place. I have no power to tell. 
 
 [Exit.
 
 Palicio. 
 
 [Act IV. sc. iii. 
 
 SCENE III. 
 Room in the palace. Hugo and Philip meeting. 
 
 Hit. No cheer. Thy questioning looks may not 
 be answer'd , ■ » 
 
 With any brightness, duke : and yet take heart. 
 The fever of our climate is in the onset 
 Oft overmasked as this. 'Twill clear and pass. 
 'Twere quite incredible she should so sicken 
 Of mere affection. The compacted body 
 Hath its machinery for health and .action, 
 Its appetites for food and rest, too him 
 To be unfixed by fancy. Like a river 
 Our life flows on, whose surface storms nmy vex, 
 But never move the current from its bed. 
 
 rh. I heartily repent my part in this. 
 I wronged poor Manuel. 
 
 y,y^^ ^ " Now thou wrong st me. 
 
 Him being dead thou canst not wrong. 'Tis plain 
 The objection falls. If once there was a motive 
 That might have stayed thee ... 
 
 yy^ ^ Nay, upbraid me not. 
 
 //«. How, X upbraid thee ? 
 
 p^ That I pressed my suit. 
 
 //ii. Rather for slackness in it. 
 
 p^ If she recover 
 
 'Tis all I pray for. . 
 
 //,i Not so. This will pass. 
 
 'Twill' be forgotten. All will be forgotten. 
 Look but on Margaret, doth her brother s death 
 
 Craze her? , , . . , ,. . , , 
 
 PA. Indeed, I think she is nigh distracted ; 
 
 And if she bear up better there's a reason : 
 She hath a comforter. Nay, I may tell you 
 I saw your doctor here take her aside. 
 And when he spoke, her face of woe lit up. 
 She loves him. 'Twas a match that Manuel wished 
 Hii. Nay, nay ! what ! Rosso, the apothecary ! 
 
 EnUr Livio and Blasco. 
 Ah, Livio ; Constance calls thy name, 'tis hoped 
 Th.at she may know thee. ^ , ^ .. . , 
 
 ^,j, Is she better, sire ? 
 
 Hu. Nay : but she asked for thee, and Rosso said 
 Thou'shouldst be sent for. Come within. 
 
 Ph. M^y ^,„„ 
 
 Far as the door ? 
 
 ffu Ay, come. 
 
 Bl. ' (aside to Liv. ). Tell Margaret, 
 
 Who hath some matter for me, that I am here 
 
 \Exeniit Hugo and Livio. 
 
 Ph Count, thou hast lied to me. If that suffice 
 To raise thy temper, meet me when thou wilt : 
 If not, and Constance die, I'll use thee worse. {Exxt. 
 
 Bl Ay ay No doubt there may be danger for me 
 Even from' that quarter : but I have a foe 
 That threats me more. H^w came she by the letter? 
 Only Palicio and his messenger 
 Could know 'twas mine. 
 
 Enter Margaret, 
 ^j^jy. 'Tis business with thee, count : 
 
 Therefore few words. I have thy treasonous letter 
 And other proofs, which I shall bring against thee 
 Unless thou do my bidding. 
 
 j^l What is that, 
 
 My lady Peremptory ? speak thy will. 
 
 Mar. Attend. Palicio is condemned to die 
 At noon to-morrow. I require th.it thou 
 Contrive that he escape, ay, and go clear 
 Three hours before that time. 
 
 PI Impossible. 
 
 Mar. 'Tis not so, count. For Livio had promised 
 me . , 
 
 The very thing ; but since his price exceeds 
 What I need pay to thee ... 
 
 PI My price, how mean you i 
 
 Mar. I will give back thy letter to thy hands, 
 And promise secrecy m every matter 
 I had against thee. 
 
 PI Give me now the letter, 
 
 And I will do it. „ , . ^ 
 
 ^lar. Nay. Thou It do it first. 
 
 Bl. Then say that if at nine to-morrow mom 
 I have a friendly guard— 
 
 ]/,j^_ Keep to that hour : 
 
 'Twill do. I shall be there to see it done. 
 I'll bring the letter with me. I can provide 
 His further safety. If thuu fail, the enquiry, 
 Which I can set on foot, delays his death, 
 Till I find other means. 
 
 pi_ But still I see not 
 
 My own security. 
 
 Mar. Thou hast my promise : 
 
 And thy security is only this, _ 
 
 To keep to thine. I go. Remember, nine. \E.xit 
 
 Bl. Wheu ! wheu ! Who hath the secret now .' 
 Indeed, 
 I see this dainty lady hath a lover 
 We little dreamed of Therefore was he housed 
 With Manuel. O, Giovann Palicio : 
 Thus Livio's rival. And thou blab of me 
 To mistress Margaret, dost thou? well, well, well ! 
 I'll see thee die for that. Die now thou must. 
 I have, sir, but to tell this tale in the ear 
 Of the chief justiciary, and I am saved. 
 
 Enter Livio. 
 
 Livio, thou hast a rival. 
 
 Liv I know. 
 
 PI ' Thou knowest ? 
 
 Liv My father saith Margaret will marry Rosso. 
 
 Bli Rosso! Rosso be hanged ! 'Tis J ohn Palicio 
 
 Liv. Palicio ! 
 
 PI Yes, Palicio. 
 
 Tiv Nay. 
 
 ^'/- I'll tell thee. 
 
 Hark.— Was he not concealed in Manuel's house? 
 
 Liii. Well? , . ^ , . ,, 
 
 Bl, And escaping from his house by nigjj^ 
 
 The next day where was Margaret ? 
 
 47' And then 
 
 til. 
 'Twas she betrayed the rebels. 
 
 Liv ^^ ' 
 
 ,,, ■ We traced 
 
 The little book to her servant. 
 
 y.-^ That's against It. 
 
 Bl.' Nay: it explains why all the names were 
 
 there. 
 
 Only not his.
 
 Act IV. sc. iv.] 
 
 Palicio. 
 
 63 
 
 I 
 
 Liv. But then . . nay, wliy should he 
 
 Surrender ? 
 
 Bl, That's but madness any way. 
 
 But now she comes demanding his deHverance. 
 
 Liv. Ay, she dotli. O, the villain ! he shall die. 
 
 Bl. He shall ; but haik, I have promised Margaret 
 To set Palicio free at nine to-morrow. 
 Say that we go together. Margaret comes 
 To see her lover freed. Her we will take 
 And keep confined until his execution ; 
 Which for our purpose may be hurried on. 
 Or if .. . . 
 
 Liv. Stay ; why this promise? In the course 
 Of justice he must die. 
 
 Bl. Not so. My promise 
 
 To set him free was made for two good reasons. 
 First hearing thou hadst offered her the like : 
 Next for the knowledge that on my refu^-al 
 She could find other means. Beside all which 
 She bargains to restore me certain letters 
 I sent her years ago, which I confess 
 I am now ashamed of: (asiiie.) — Any lie will serve 
 To smooth this idiot. — These she brings with her. 
 And I can take them from her. My object gained 
 I hand her o'er to thee. For all her scorns 
 Repay her as thou wilt. 
 
 Liv. I fear her. 
 
 Bl. Nay, 
 
 I can secure thee. Come. [Exeunt. 
 
 SCENE IV. 
 
 Dungeon of tlie palace. Palicio discovered. 
 A door at back of prisoti is L. of centre. 
 
 Pal. I cannot think of death. Imagination 
 Is barren on that point, and hath no picture ; — 
 To be so near should better prick the fancy. — 
 I see a grave — but stand beside tlie grave . . . 
 Nothing. — And yet I am so near. — I judge 
 From this how dizzily deep rides the clivision 
 'Twixt this world and the next ; tho' in Time's face 
 'Tis thin, ay, more invisibly sharp than is 
 The axe's edge, which makes it. — Is our life's stuff 
 So different ? All the joys and hopes of earth 
 Wrought of too coarse a fibre to invest 
 An inkling of that other unseen world, 
 Which hath this only entrance? Wherefore my mind 
 Wanders in wasteful contemplation back 
 O'er what I have done, pitifully seeking 
 To wear renewed the robe of those proud deeds, 
 To dream again her disappointed dreams ; 
 And over all is Margaret, ever Margaret ; 
 Floating before these vain soul-treacherous eyes, — 
 My tempter and tormentor. -^f 
 
 Enter Gaoler. 
 Gaoler. A priest sent from the archbishop. Shall 
 
 he enter? 
 I'al. Yea : bid him enter. But I pray thee now, 
 Thuu execrable minion of that devil 
 Who sucks our people's blood, come not thyself: 
 Kach time I see thee I must wish to kill thee. 
 Thou art my soul's l.ast peril. Keep away. 
 
 Gaoler. Whate'er I be, I can be civil, sir. [Exit. 
 Pal. Ay, I was wrong. Now must I ask his 
 pardon. 
 
 I am not yet fit to die. Yet is't not written 
 
 ' ' If hand or foot offend thee, eut it off; 
 
 If thine eye, pluck it out " .? I have done all this ; 
 
 Yet lurks there something in the accusing balance 
 
 Which my soul sickens at. What if I have lost 
 
 My world and soul ? This good priest conies in time. 
 
 Enter Manuel disguised as priest. 
 Father, if thou be come to shrive my soul, 
 I need thee sorely. 
 
 Man. I am here for that. 
 
 Pal. There's comfort in thy face. I have much to 
 tell. 
 Thou know'st me, who I am ? 
 
 Man. Ay, son. 
 
 Pal. I pray 
 
 What said the archbishop of me ? 
 
 Man. Pause not now 
 
 To ask and weigh man's judgment, who so soon 
 Must answer to the Judge of all. 
 
 Pal. Nay, nay. 
 
 If thou bring hither such a thought of me. 
 What can I tell thee? How shall I begin? 
 
 Man. If there be any one thing on your mind. 
 More than another, which now brings you shame. 
 Begin with that. 
 
 Pal. Ay : such a thing there is. 
 
 Man. What is't ? 
 
 P'^l. 'Tis the story of the njischief. 
 
 Which makes me need thee ; which hath sent mo 
 
 here. 
 For I was single-hearted, single-eyed. 
 As thou or .my of the saints, who hold 
 Their place in heaven secure, three d.ays ago, — 
 But three days : If thou then hadst come to me 
 I should have said. My sins are all forgiven ; 
 I only beg of thee the heavenly bread 
 To be my passport to my home prep.ired. 
 My earthly sword hath won a heavenly crown. 
 I have not left undone aught, save where God's will 
 Forbade accomplishment, and if I have done 
 Aught unpermitted 'twas in zeal's excess. 
 My errors are the saints' — three days ago . . 
 And now my boast is gone, my soul is stained. 
 I lark, while I tell. Satan, who saw me thus 
 Pure-hearted and elect, an envied prey, 
 Used all his skill to take me : Ay, he came 
 And showed me, in the room where I lay sick. 
 Wounded, and weak and faint, a beauteous woman. 
 And all love's world. He said. Take this ; but I 
 Was ready awhile, and answered. Not for me. 
 1 thread the namnv 7vay ; I elinili at heaven. 
 If I touch this, I perish. But he said, 
 Not so, 'tis thy due prize. Tate it, Palicio! 
 'Twas the old tale — " Thou shalt not surely die." 
 I took it. God deserted me that hour : '-*"' 
 
 My friends suspected me : all things went ill : 
 And now . . . 
 
 Man. Stay. First, this woman, who misled you. 
 Is she your wife ? 
 
 Pat. Nay, 'tis but now three days . . . 
 
 Mati. You say she is not your wife. Is then 
 your sin 
 To have leapt the bounds which hold unmarried 
 lovers ? 
 
 Pal. O, father, thou couldst never ask such thing
 
 64 
 
 Palicio. 
 
 [Act V. 
 
 SC. 1. 
 
 If thou didst know who 'twas. Nay, thou mayst 
 
 know : 
 'Twas Manuel's sister, — Margaret of Palermo. 
 
 Man. {partly JiscoT/eriiig). See, I am Manuel. 
 • • » » » Ay, and so far is well. 
 Now say, did Margaret contrive thy flight ? 
 
 Pal. , . . (assents), 
 
 Man. And after followed thee to Monreale? 
 And met thee on the hills ? 
 
 Pal. . . . (assails). 
 
 Man. Then tell me now 
 
 Why hast thou left her? 
 
 Pal. Nay. Question me not. 
 
 Man. Why hast thou left her ? 
 
 Pal. Why come to me thus ? 
 
 I needed but a priest to comfort me, 
 And show me on death's road : thou drag'st me back 
 To torture me. Thou canst not understand. 
 
 Man. Thou ow'st to me more than to any priest, 
 Who for thy sake might hear, to tell me true. 
 Why hast thou left her ? 
 
 Pal. If thou wert a priest, 
 
 Then wouldst thou see how well the stalking fiend 
 Snared for my soul. I planned for yesternight 
 To storm the palace : and I had promised Margaret 
 To make no further venture if tliat failed. 
 But sail with her to Rome and there be married, 
 Using thy interest to reclaim my rank. 
 But on the day I gave that word, my men 
 Were all betrayed, taken, and led to prison. 
 I was with Margaret, as well they knew : 
 My love for her, my shelter at thy house, 
 My flight permitted, set them on the thought 
 That I had been corrupted, was the traitor. 
 ply with me, then cried Margaret. Ay, the fiend too 
 Said, ply : go safe. I foiled him. I came here. 
 That was my only answer. 
 
 Man. And didst thou not 
 
 Betray them ? 
 
 Pal. I ! Palicio ! when did I 
 
 Betray ? 
 
 3Ian. Stay, while in turn I shew to thee 
 Another tale made of the self-same matter. — 
 A price set on thy head, pursued by justice. 
 Bleeding to death, thou earnest to my house 
 Asking for shelter, begging but for life. ^" 
 
 I gave it at my risk, — how great that risk 
 I'll shew thee soon ; — there at my house my sister 
 Secretly tended thee, and won thy cure. 
 Thou in return didst, all unknown to me, 
 Obtain her love, and use it to break trust, 
 Flying by stealth at night : and then, being fled, 
 Didst scruple not to use thy flight, to work 
 The very thing for which thy life was owed. 
 Further, when that went wrong, merely for fear 
 Men should think ill of thee, thou didst desert 
 Her, to whose love was due that thou wert free ; 
 Wronging her then again, as me before . . . 
 
 Pal. Manuel, forbear ; thee I confess I wronged : 
 For the rest thy taunts are vain. 
 
 Man. Wait: there is more. — 
 
 Thy refuge being discovered, I was charged 
 With treason, and in course shipped hence for Spain. 
 My ship was sunk, and I, but for God's mercy. 
 Drowned. My disgrace and rumoured death so 
 wrought 
 
 On Constance, that she lies in life's last hope. 
 To all of us thou hast done unmeasured ill : 
 What is thy plea ? 
 
 Pal. Though God himself should curse me, 
 
 My purpose hath been good. 
 
 Man. Ay, that I'll grant : 
 
 Thou'rt for the right, but being too hot upon it 
 Mistakest right. Thou art numbered with the 
 
 madmen 
 Who, thinking the whole world's unhappiness 
 Hangs on one string, tread all else underfoot 
 So they may reach to cut it. — And where's the good? 
 Thyself, too, in what plight, that after all 
 This sacrifice of others' rights, thou rushest 
 To die to save thine honour from a stain. 
 That needs no washing ! 
 
 Pal. Enough : there let it end : 
 
 I die to-morrow. 
 
 Man. Nay, thou must escape : 
 
 Retrieve all that thou canst. I now shall go 
 To Margaret, whom before I feared to meet. 
 She will be working for thee. If she fail. 
 The archbishop yet hath power to stay thy death 
 Till I can serve thee. If thy love for her. 
 And hers for thee abide, you must be married. 
 Nay, all she urged was good. 
 
 Pal. O, 'tis impossible. 
 
 Work not for my escape : 'tis best I die. 
 
 Man. Nay, nay. Thou that canst fight, fight with 
 thyself. 
 The brave despair that fear not : that's the shock 
 The strongest suffer. Thou wast ill of late ; 
 Wert thou now strong, shame would not crush thy 
 spirit. [Going. 
 
 Pal. Manuel, go not ! 
 
 Man. Yes, I must go. Remember 
 
 My name is Father Thomas. None must guess 
 Who hath been with thee. — Farewell. Fight with 
 
 thyself, 
 Palicio, with thyself. Thou shall be saved. [Exit. 
 
 ACT V. 
 
 SCENE I. 
 
 T/ie same. Palicio as before. 
 
 Pal. Three hours have fully passed since first I 
 marked 
 Yon grated hole grow rosy, and exchange 
 Moonlight for dawn. Now soon will Margaret come : 
 And I must go forth to the world disgraced, 
 To fly my country or hide : ay, at the cue 
 Of the chief justiciai^y, led by a woman. 
 Hast thou the heart, Giovann Palicio, 
 To call this freedom ? Nay, since thy right hand 
 Was raised 'gainst wrong in vain, and thou thyself 
 Art charged with wrong, and must admit the wrong, 
 Were't not now best to end, and shroud thy fortune 
 In veils of death ? Thou that hast led the people, 
 Hast thou a knee for favours ? Will thy tongue 
 Confess I wronged thee, Manuel, I come forth 
 To be thy prisoner : and I wronged thee, Margaret : 
 I will come forth to be thy pensioner ? 
 Shame : rather would I die. *"*
 
 Act V. sc. i.] 
 
 Palicio. 
 
 65 
 
 Enter Margaret. 
 
 Mar. 'Tis I, Giovanni : all is well : thou'rt safe, 
 Manuel has told me all. Thou dost repent. 
 All is prepared. Ask not my pardon : give me 
 One kiss — I have forgiven thee. Be not sad. 
 'Twas like thee as I love thee, nobly done : 
 And being so cruel to thyself 'twas easy 
 Thou shouldst forget what I too now forget, 
 Recovering thee. I saw thee ride away, 
 And guessed before the letter. O, Giovanni, 
 Thank God, thou'rt, safe. Look, I have brought the 
 
 money 
 To serve thee on thy journey till the day 
 We meet again ; and more. Thy ship will sail 
 But to Messina : there thou wilt disbark. 
 Nay, take the money ; thou wilt need it, love, 
 'Tis Manuel's gift, not mine. 
 
 Pal. {taking). I have no heart, 
 
 Margaret, for what is done on my behalf. 
 1 thank him, but . . . 
 
 Mar. Alas, alas ! Giovanni : 
 
 I looked to find thee glad of heart and happy. 
 Our troubles all are over. Manuel lives. 
 Whom we thought drowned : Constance, who lay in 
 
 death, 
 Hath risen from her bed : and even our marriage 
 Is furthered by my brother. How can it be 
 Thou art so dismal, and thy kiss as cold 
 As is this prison? 
 
 Pal. I would not leave this prison. 
 
 Mar. Thou wouldst not leave it ? 
 Pal. No : dankness and darkness 
 
 Are now my friends. I have failed. How can I wish 
 To step in the light of heaven ? 
 
 Mar. O, then I see 
 
 This death-delivering dungeon hath o'ercome thee. 
 
 There's news. This morn tlie ships arrived from 
 
 Spain. 
 They must bring tidings of the king's accession. 
 We shall learn all to-day. When he's proclaimed. 
 There's nought that thou couldst do if thou wcrt free. 
 What thou hast done may have determined much. 
 Pal. When shall I hear of it ? 
 Mar. Love, thou must sail 
 
 Quickly and secretly : and canst not hear 
 Until tliou come to land. But then if I 
 Should meet thee there with Manuel, oh, what joy, 
 Could I be first to tell thee. 
 
 Pal. Dost thou think 
 
 That Manuel hath forgiven me for the wrong 
 I did him, stealing from his house by night ? 
 
 Mar. That was my theft, Giovanni ; and he 
 forgives : 
 Cry not thou forfeit. — See, I bring thy dagger. 
 
 Pal. But, Margaret, I wronged thee too. I fled 
 From thee ; canst thou forgive me ? 
 
 Mar. Ask not me 
 
 If I have forgiven. Hearken, I will tell thee, — 
 This dagger is the dagger which the woman. 
 Whose name thou didst not know, brought thee in 
 prison : ^^^ 
 
 By help of this thou niadest thy first escape. 
 'Tis I that bring it now. These two days past, 
 These days of misery, I have held and worn it 
 But for one purpose ; that if thou shouldst die. 
 
 I might have something which had once been thine 
 To end my life with. 
 
 /',;/. Thou 1 
 
 Mar. Ay. I had promised 
 
 This caseless blade my empty heart for sheath. 
 
 J'al. Margaret ! 
 
 Mar. Now take it. I have better hope. 
 
 [Palicio takes dagger, and puts it in his breast. 
 Thou shouldst be armed. 
 
 Pal. And thou hast thought of death ? 
 
 Mar. Only if thou hadst died. 
 
 Pal. O, Margaret, 
 
 Margaret, I am not worthy of thy love. 
 Thou seest I am not. Look how poor a heart 
 I bring to take thee : 'tis too base. I thought 
 I loved thee overmuch. Now, fool, I see 
 I love too little. 
 
 Mar. 'Tis this hateful prison 
 
 Hath chilled thy spirits. When again thou'rt free 
 Thou'lt be Giovanni. 
 
 Pal. Canst thou love me so ? 
 
 Mar. O, what hath come to thee ? Did I not love 
 The hour I bound thy wound : the day I brought 
 Rosso to heal thee, and led thee by the hand. 
 Threading the blindest midnight silently. 
 To set thee free ? Dost thou forget ? 
 
 Pal. But then. 
 
 Then I was brave, a leader of the people 
 Against their tyrant : thou didst hold of me 
 As of a hero : now I have failed, I am shamed. 
 
 Mar. O, no, Giovanni ; thou mistakest sadly 
 My love for thee. 
 
 Pal. I am no more myself. 
 
 Mar. Then dare I prove to thee how I love thee, 
 How little thy renown. Remember, thou didst 
 
 scheme 
 To burn the palace. 
 
 Pal. Ay. 
 
 Mar. Didst thou not promise 
 
 Me, trembling for thy life, that if that failed. 
 Thou wouldst to Rome with me ? 
 
 Pal. My scheme miscarried : 
 
 I broke my promise. 
 
 Mar. The cause of that miscarriage 
 
 Was the betrayal ? 
 
 Pal. How should I forget ? 
 
 Mar. Now wilt thou say I love but thy success? 
 'Twas I betrayed thy men. 
 
 Pal. Ha ! thou was't ! was't thou ? 
 
 (Leaping up from Margaret, who stat;gers against the 
 
 wall. ) 
 From me, .sorceress, thou viper, go from me I 
 Traitress, was't thou ? Thou wast my secret curse ! 
 Sent by the devil, wast thou, to destroy me. 
 To kill my soul ? And bringest now thy money 
 
 \Strews it about. 
 To buy thy happiness : and of thy love 
 Pratest, and sayst. Come forth with me ! With thee? 
 Rather all deaths, a thousand deaths of shame, — 
 The a,\e, the gallows. (_), my faithful men. 
 My brave men ! and for them ! — Ah ! I will love 
 My executioner more than thee. Love thee I 
 There is not any tyr.ant or crowned fiend '™' 
 
 Whom I will hate like thee. 
 
 Mar. Then kill me, Giovanni. 
 
 [S'u'oons falling.
 
 66 
 
 Palicio. 
 
 [Act V. sc. ii. 
 
 Pal. {laking out dagger). This dajjger in my heart, 
 
 and I am avenged. 
 Nay, nay, O God, I am adding wrong to wrong. 
 
 [riilling dagger back. 
 And Manuel. Alas ! what have I done ? 
 
 \^J\uits to Margaret. 
 I spake too roughly, Margaret ; I was angry : 
 I knew not wliat I said. Margaret, I am sorry. 
 Forgive me, Margaret. Nay, I meant it not. 
 I am not angry with thee now. I think 
 I can forgive thee. Hear me ! She doth not hear me. 
 She dotli not breathe. Her eyes are fixed and 
 
 sightless. 
 Her hands are cold. 
 
 My God, oh, if I have killed her! Margaret, Margaret! 
 Dost thou not hear ? — I have killed her. — Margaret ! 
 I do forgive thee. I forgive thee all. 
 
 God, she is dead, she is dead. — Now if I kiss her. 
 If she can feel (iissing). She stirs. O, Margaret, 
 Hear me. I do forgive thee all. 
 
 Mar. Giovanni : 
 
 1 did it for thy love. 
 
 Pal. Thank God, thank God. 
 
 Now ihou dost breathe and speak. O, I was cruel ; 
 I was too angry. — Margaret, forgive me. 
 Kiss me, forgive. [Noise at door. 
 
 Mar. Hark, at the door they come ; 
 'Tis now thy time to lly- 
 
 /';/. How can I leave tliee ? 
 
 I cannot thus. 
 
 Enter Plaseo 7uit/t sword drawn, Livio and two 
 soldiers. 
 
 Mar. Go for thy life, Giovanni : 
 Ply, fly : think not of me ! 
 
 Bl. Stay, not so fast, 
 
 You pretty pair of loving turtle-doves. 
 Cooing your sweet faresvells in such a cote ; 
 We shall not separate you yet so far. 
 
 Mar. Ah me I 
 
 Pal. What means this insult ? 
 
 /)'/. Forward, fellows. 
 
 Take ye the lady to the cell I shewed. 
 And bind her arms. ■^^'' 
 
 Pal. \Vho dares ? 
 
 Bl. Fool, stand aside ! 
 
 Seest thou my sword ? 
 
 Pal. Ho ! villain, die ! ~1 Palicio springs on Blasco 
 
 Bl. God ! I am 
 
 slain. [palls. 
 
 Pal. And thou, 
 
 Thinking to find me here 
 unarmed, go thou ! 
 Soldier. Ah ! 
 
 [Dies . . the rest fly. 
 Pal. Two are es- 
 
 sitddeuly'j and stabs him 
 with dagger in his left. 
 Seizing Biased s sword in 
 his right, whieh he has 
 disengaged from the sling, 
 he kills another with that ; 
 and when the rest fly is 
 left standing with a bloody 
 caped. J weapon in each hand. 
 
 Mar. And one was Livio. 
 
 Pal. What means this damnable design ? 
 Mar. Giovanni, 
 
 I see, I know. Fly now — take thou the sword. 
 Give me the dagger. Follow. I know the way. 
 There will be none to stay thee. If there be. 
 Serve them as Blasco. Come, come ; follow quickly. 
 
 [Exit. 
 Pal. (follo^ving). Margaret, Margaret. [E.xit. 
 
 SCENE II. 
 
 Hoom 171 the palace. Manuel, disguised as 
 priest, meeting Rosso. 
 
 Pos. In good time, Manuel : welcome. All is 
 well. 
 . Man. Thank God. And doth she know ? 
 
 Pos. Ay, thou shall hear. 
 
 'Twas Margaret's doing : all night long she sat 
 By Constance' bed, and there with gentlest presence 
 And soft accustomed voice most gradually 
 She soothed and won the wandering spirit back. 
 But, oh, the sweetest skill ! — she,*as she saw 
 Constance take note of her, made no discovery, 
 But spoke of thee and all things else, as if 
 There never had been change : and that so well, 
 Th.at Constance, who lay gazing on the wall. 
 And questioning of her error, whence it grew. 
 Soon laid it on herself, and by and by 
 Told Margaret of her dream, and asked how long 
 She had lain so sick in bed ; nor ever learned 
 How real had her woe been, till she knew 
 That all was over. 
 
 Man. I thank God, — and thee. 
 
 Rosso, thee too. Margaret ha.s had some cause 
 To blame herself, — to have helped in the repair 
 Will ease her heart of much. May I see Constance ? 
 
 Pos. At once. But come prepared to find her 
 weak. 
 
 Enter Philip. 
 
 Ph. Father, a word. 
 
 Man. I pray you excuse me now. 
 
 Ph. 'Tis that I know thy errand that I ask. 
 I would speak through thee to the lady Constance. 
 
 Man. What would you say ? 
 
 Ph. Let me be private with thee. 
 
 Man. (to Ros.). Doctor, I'll follow. (Aside.) Now 
 to act my best. [Exit Rosso. 
 
 Ph. Thou seest in me the man who wrought this 
 ill. 
 I'd have thee use thine office with the lady. 
 To win her grace, that I may make confession 
 Of that which burdens me. , ^"" 
 
 .Man. How ! what is this ? 
 
 What should I say ? 
 
 Ph. I'll tell thee : and thou must know 
 
 Firet, that I once was Manuel's friend and pupil, — 
 My pride, alas ! self- wrested to my shame — 
 And in those early days loved her, whom he 
 Should at this time have married. Five years 
 
 spent 
 In graceless life meanwhile had far removed 
 My heart from my first love, nor had my thought 
 Once ventured b.ack to think or wish her mine : 
 But, as it happened, — and being at the timej 
 Stung by the sharp remorse of idle hours, — 
 Chance sent me hither, and her presence soon 
 Awaked those memories that I had thought were 
 
 dead. 
 Then vainly felt I worthier than T was, 
 Seeing my better part desired to win 
 What I too surely had deserved to lose. 
 Constance denied me : — but now hear my crime. 
 I won her father's ear ; and then, being lodged
 
 Act V. sc. iii.] 
 
 Palicio. 
 
 67 
 
 In Manuel's house, I lit on a discovery 
 Of some suspicion, and contrived thereby — 
 Betraying him who was my friend and host — • 
 His absence and disgrace : whence by ill fate 
 His death and all this lady's trouble sprung. 
 
 Man. 'Tis a sad tale you tell. 
 
 Ph. I was misled 
 
 To think he loved the lady less than 1. 
 Yet urge I no excuse, nor look for pardon : 
 But if 'twould not add sorrow to her sorrow, 
 I would discharge this burden from my soul. 
 
 Man. Do so : for you shall find pity and pardon. 
 
 P/i. Nay, nay : that could not be. 
 
 Man. Though hard it seem, 
 
 Ay, and may force awhile some generous tears ; 
 Siie cannot yet fail in tlie foremost duty "*" 
 
 Of all that sin. I shall prepare her well. 
 
 Ph. I thank tliee, father. {Exil Manuel. 
 
 There is in these men 
 A quiet strength, which shames our self-esteem. 
 
 Enter Ferdinand and I/u^o with despatches. 
 
 Hu. Philip, we have the news. Frederick is 
 crowned. 
 See, here's for thee, (dues a despatch.) It bears the 
 new king's seal. 
 
 Ph. Well, 'twill help nought. (Opens.) 
 
 Hu. I pray there may be nothing 
 
 That meddles with my place. 
 
 Ph. Read here, your excellence. \^Reads. 
 
 By reason of advices late received. 
 The kin^s commands are that the sealed despatch 
 Writ for emergency be nmv held valid, 
 And put in force by you. 
 
 Hu. Where's the despatch ? 
 
 Per. 'Tis in my keeping. 
 
 Hu. (to Philip). Know'st thou its contents ? 
 
 Ph. Nay, sir ; not I. 
 
 Hu. Pray let us see it, straight. 
 
 Ph. Adjourn we to my secretary's chamber : 
 A moment will discover it. \^Exeunt. 
 
 SCENE III. 
 
 Reception-room at the palace. As first scene 
 of first act. Constance, Rosso, and Manuel 
 disguised. 
 
 Con. Nay, I can walk. I am very well. See, 
 Manuel, 
 There's no one here : thou mayst be Manuel 
 Yet awhile. Is not this, love, a recovery 
 To make the memories of sickness glad ? 
 The days seem years since I stood here. But now 
 Must I see Philip? 
 
 Man. Be kind to him, Constance. 
 
 The self-condemned need more than full forgiveness 
 Ere they forgive themselves. 
 
 Con. I am too happy 
 
 To be unkind. And where is Margaret ? 
 I long to rally her about her lover. 
 Sweet Margaret caught : Margaret who mocked us 
 
 all. 
 Hath she not chosen a madcap brother for us ? 
 
 Man. Well, I had wished for Rosso, love ; but 
 women 
 
 Favour strange fellows. 
 
 Ros. She was difficult 
 
 To win, and now at least she has met her match. 
 
 Man. I pray all may go well. Indeed I have hope 
 That Hugo is by this possessed of orders 
 Which will resolve all trouble. 
 
 Con. Hush, father Thomas ; 
 
 See, here they come. 
 
 Enter Hugo, Philip, Livio, and Ferdinand. 
 
 Hu. My dearest daughter, 'tis a happy day. 
 Thy health and safety — Ay, I am glad to see 
 Thy face of happiness, and I can add 
 Now to thy joy. King Frederick is crowned. 
 And I shall rule in Sicily. 
 
 Man. (aside). How is this ? 
 
 Con. Then for this happy news grant me, dear 
 father, 
 One favour. Philip here will join in asking. 
 
 Ph. Ere it be asked, I wish before all here 
 To say some words. Good father, hast thou won 
 The lady's ear for me ? 
 
 Man. I have, your grace. 
 
 Ph. May I speak, Constance ? 
 
 Con. Phdip, you may speak. 
 
 Ph. Once I asked this, and thou didst bid me then 
 Speak and end all. Hear while I speak my last. 
 I have wronged thee, Constance. 
 
 Con. That is now forgiven. 
 
 Hu. O, well done, Constance. 
 
 Ph. And I wronged Manuel. 
 
 I violated friendship, and the bond -^' 
 
 Of hospitality. 
 
 Con. All that I know, 
 
 And all forgive. 
 
 Hu. Forgive him, and forget it. 
 
 So should it be. 
 
 Ph. Vet if thou sayest that. 
 
 Thou dost not know that 'twas my treachery 
 Procured his exile, whence ensued his death. 
 
 Con. All this I know, and I forgive it all. 
 
 Hu. (aiii/e). This is too soft. Doth her mintl 
 wander still? 
 
 Ph. Thou understandest ? Knowest thou that did 
 he live 
 To-day he were the ruler of his country ? 
 
 Con. Nay ; now, sir, this is new. How came 
 you by it ? 
 
 Ph. In a despatch I hold, his full appointment 
 Is writ and sealed. 
 
 Con. He will be very glad 
 
 To hear of this. 
 
 Ph. What sayst thou, then ? 
 
 Hu. (aside). O misery ! 
 
 Con. I know you call him dead ; but still to me 
 He makes his visitations, I have seen him 
 This morning in my chamber. Nay, I say, 
 I see him now. 
 
 Hu. What saith she? (To Livio.) Alas, alas ! 
 Thy sister's mind is gone. This was the reason 
 Of lier strange cheerfulness. 
 
 /'//. May God forgive us 
 
 Our fatal mischief. 
 
 Con. Give me the despatch : 
 
 I'll shew it him, sirs, else he might not believe me : 
 But if I take it . . .
 
 68 
 
 Palicio. 
 
 [Act V. sc. iii. 
 
 Ph. (to Hu.). .What, sir, shall I do? 
 
 Hos. Humour her fancy, I will lead her out. 
 
 Hu. Ferdinand, give it to her. Alas, alas ! 
 
 Con. (taking). I thank thee, sir. (To Man.) Now, 
 father, here's a matter 
 To make us laugh within. 
 
 [Exeunt Rosso, Constance, and Manuel. 
 
 Hu. Philip, she is mad. 
 
 PA. I see it, and I the cause. 
 
 Hu. A laughing idiot. O, cruel heavens, 
 Ye had no stroke more fearful. Would to God 
 That Manuel yet were living, tho' I hate him, 
 Rather than this. 
 
 [Shouting without of" Palicio," etc.] 
 
 What noise is that ? 
 Liv. The rebels, sir, again. 
 
 Enter an Officer. 
 
 Officer. The city, sire, is risen ; and the people. 
 With John Palicio at their head, demand 
 The king's despatches. 
 
 Hu. John Palicio ! 
 
 Is he escaped again ? Send Blasco hither. 
 Livio, where is he? 
 
 Liv. Sir, I do not know. 
 
 Hu. 'Tis this accursed rebellion hath done all : 
 I have been too merciful. I tell thee, Philip, 
 That was the cause of all, of Constance's madness, 
 Of Manuel's death. By heaven, the sword shall fall. 
 I will have blood for blood, and wail for wail. 
 None of these vill.iins whom I hold in prison 
 Shall see the sunset. Send me Blasco hither. 
 Call out the troops. 
 
 Ph. Pray you remember, sire, 
 
 Pardon to all is urged in the despatch. 
 
 Hu. Send p.irdon to the devil. Oppose me not ! 
 I'll teach these rebels I am master now. 
 
 [ Cries heard without. 
 
 Enter Manuel (as himself, with paper in hand) and 
 Constance. Margaret, Lucia, and Rosso follo^uing. 
 
 Manuel ! why, Manuel ! 
 
 Ph. O, Manuel, 
 
 My friend, I am saved. 
 
 Con. My father, ^<^ 
 
 Let me present to you my ghostly father ; 
 And at your will my loving living husband. 
 
 Hu. Why, what ! How's this ? Is't thou ? Is 
 this a trick ? 
 
 Man. .\y : but a trick of fortune. Let my escape, 
 Which makes you wonder, be explained hereafter. 
 But now, since here I hold my title, jiire, 
 I'll fill my place at once. Philip, I pray thee 
 Go to the window, and make known to all 
 These latest tidings. Send the people home. 
 
 [Philip goes to window. 
 Meanwhile, sir ; if before thou hadst some warrant 
 For anger shewn against me, now I ask 
 Thy pardon ; and for wrongs against me done 
 Assure thee, that if freely thou make over 
 Thy d.-iughter for my wife, there is in my love 
 Means for full reconcilement. May I say 
 Constance is mine? 
 
 Hu. I see that she is thine. 
 
 Man. I pray thou never shall regret this day. 
 
 Ph. (returning from window). There is John 
 Palicio, with half the town 
 At their old cries. I can make nothing of him. 
 
 Man. Bid him surrender as my prisoner. 
 I will receive him here. 
 
 Hu. Thou must not think 
 
 He comes at asking thus. 
 
 Man. He will obey. 
 
 But I will show myself [Goes to windmu, 
 
 Hu. How comes he out of prison? 
 
 Mar. That I can tell. 
 
 Your secretary Blasco promised me. 
 Who desired nothing more than the release 
 Of John Palicio, that he would contrive 
 To free him, if on my part I returned 
 A certain letter to his hands, wherein, [Showing. 
 
 As you may read, he had betrayed your person 
 To John Palicio for a price. Then I, 
 As holder of this written ransom, came 
 To see my kinsman freed ; when in the dungeon 
 False Blasco, with two villains and another. 
 Who was your son, appeared before us armed : 
 And thinking there to find Palicio 
 Defenceless, would have slain him, and forced me 
 To give them back this writing : but Palicio 
 Sprang up, slew Blasco, and escaped. 
 
 Ph. His death 
 
 Was due from me. 
 
 Hu. Give me the letter, pray. 
 
 Say, Livio, is this true ? 
 
 Liv. I never knew 
 
 Of this betrayal, sir; I trasted Blasco. 
 
 Mar. He counts for nothing, since he ran away. 
 
 Enter Palicio. 
 
 Hu, Is this the man ? 
 
 Man. Thou art my prisoner. 
 
 Pal. I make submission to your excellence. 
 
 [Offering (Blasco' s) S7U0rd. 
 
 Man. Dost thou surrender of thy own free-will 
 To me, as legal viceroy of this island. 
 Under King Frederick, and now abjuring 
 Thy late rebellion, wilt thou trust henceforth 
 The people's welfare to my lawful hands ? '"*" 
 
 Pal. I do, and all will trust thee as do I. 
 
 Man. That is thy pardon. (Takes sivord.) For 
 the king's good will 
 Is grace to all. Yet there will be for thee 
 Question in Blasco'sde.ith. But now I need 
 Elsewhere thy presence. (Returning sword.) Go 
 
 forth to the people, 
 And make it known that I am their governour : 
 And that for all disorder ere this day 
 There will be pardon, but from this day none. 
 Bid them disperse. 
 
 Pal. Those hundred men of mine. 
 
 Who lie in prison : is their pardon-granted ? 
 
 Mar. 'Tis I should plead for them. 'Twos I 
 betr.ayed them. 
 
 Hu. Thou didst betray them ? 
 
 Mar. Ay, sir. 
 
 Hu. 'Tis nought but wonder. 
 
 Man. (to Pal.). This is a day of grace. None will 
 resent 
 Our stretching mercy. I shall grant their pardon. 
 But not without some cautions ; for among them —
 
 Act V. sc. iii.] 
 
 Pulicio. 
 
 69 
 
 Heav me, Palicio, thou who 50 dost cry 
 
 Against the taxes — many among thy men 
 
 Are a most burdensome and fruitless tax. 
 
 They go free but to work, and with such measures 
 
 As will ensure it. \l\ilicio is goiiis^. 
 
 Now, sir, ere thou goest, 
 Is there none here to whom a word is due ? 
 
 Pal. O, Manuel, I dare not, n.ay, — I pi ay thee, 
 Re not too generous towards me : since my heart 
 Has fallen so far, let me have trial yet 
 That I may win what I but falsely stole, 
 And now woidd leave in thy security. 
 Till I may bring some right to claim it. Yet 
 I lack the worth to ask. But there's one thing 
 Which I will ask {^ocs to Margaret), forgiveness ; and 
 
 for that 
 I kneel. 
 
 J)far. I will not hide it from thee, sir. 
 
 That in the mutual interchange of pardons. 
 Which is our friendly game, I have had some pain 
 .Standing out in the cold, merely for lack 
 Of such a suit as thine. I have looked and longed 
 To find a debtor ; and I will take thee. 
 Rise, sir. I must present thee to a kinsman. 
 
 [Leads Palicio to Hugo. 
 (7t> I{u!;o.) Do you reinember, sir, a cruel saying 
 Spoken to me .against this gentleman ? 
 .Since that I have been his friend, ay, and yours too, 
 For I betrayed his people to your hands. 
 When they were setting forth to burn the palace ; 
 And so prevented Blasco's treachery ; 
 
 From which him too I saved, and for that deed 
 He takes me now in marriage. 
 
 A^«. All tliou sayst 
 
 Margaret, with much of what hath happed to-day 
 Needs explan.ition. I must see so far 
 That Livio by his conduct is cut oft : 
 Hut if you tell me now that you will marry 
 This man . . . 
 
 A/an. Palicio is of noble blood, 
 
 .\Iy lord. Yourself have given him oft such praise 
 As by an enemy must be well deserveil ^"' 
 
 Ere it be spoken. The king's pardon proves 
 Justificalion : he is quit of tre.ason. 
 We shall restore his rank, the loss of which, 
 Due to his grandsire in the civil wars. 
 Brings him no stain : nay, we shall further make him 
 Chief secretary, where his ancient zeal 
 For all the commons' rights may sliU be shewn. 
 
 Con. Margaret, we may be married the same day. 
 
 Hit. I see indeed this is a day of grace. 
 Of wondrous grace : and where I take so much 
 I should be churlish did I not rejoice 
 That I may rank behind no one of you 
 In the free dispensation of my favour. 
 And there's one act would set the balance even, 
 Lay it even lower against nie : it is this, 
 For I will do it : John Palicio, 
 I do forgive thee . . . 
 
 Mar. Now I thank thee, sire. 
 
 Pal. And I, my lord, who never thought to do it. 
 Will forgive thee, do vou forgive us all. 
 
 NOTE. — The fragment of j-Eschyliis on the title suggests a truly aneicnt origin for the fiinily 
 of Palieio: its known history is given in the Nobiiiario viceregio capitani.ile e pretoriano in 
 Palermo nobile. Parte terzadegli annali di Agostino Inveges. Palermo. MDCLI. p. 104. PALI2ZI. 
 Hugo, Squarcialupu and some of the others may be found in Sicilian histories about the year 1500 
 the supposed date of this play : their characters and the political situation are quasi-historical. 
 The incidents connecting Margaret and Palicio are mostly adapted from a bad French story by 
 De Stendhal, called Vanina Vanini, in a book tUted Chroniques Italiennes, published by Michel 
 Levy, in 1855. 
 
 Yattendon, 1883.
 
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