1 i. 
 
 \ 
 
GIRALD A, 
 
 OR, WHICH IS MY HUSBAND? 
 
 A COMIC DRAMA, 
 
 In flTfjr tt 
 
 ADAPTED PROM THE FRENCH OF M. SCRIBE, 
 
 BY MRS. DAVIDSON. 
 
 PRl NTE D FROM THK ACTING COPY, WITH REMARKS, 
 
 BIOGRAPHICAL AND CRITICAL, BY D- G. 
 
 To which arc added, 
 
 A DESCRIPTION OK THE COSTUM E,— CAST OK THK CHARACTERS — • 
 ENTRANCES AND EXITS, — RELATIVE POSITIONS OK THE 
 PERFORMERS ON THE STAGE, AND THE WHOLE 
 OV THK STAGS BUSINESS, 
 
 As performed at the 
 
 THEATRES ROYAL, LONDON. 
 
 EMBELLISHED WITH A FINE ENGRAVING, 
 
 By Mr. P. Cruikshank , from a Drawing taken in the Theatre by 
 Mr. R. Cruikshank. 
 
 LONDON : 
 
 G. H. DAVIDSON, PETER'S HILL, DOCTORS* COMMONS, 
 
 between st . paui.’s and upper Thames street. 
 
REMARKS 
 
 fe4-5S'V3> 
 
 CKtralfca. or tof)td) ts mg 2&tisfu*n<i ? 
 
 * Why encourage the foreign drama and exclude your own? Why 
 import novelties from France when there are plenty to be had in 
 England?’ cries the critic to the manager. ‘Because,’ retorts the 
 manager, ‘ the taste for English dramas is gone by. Authors, in 
 their own defence, have turned translators.* ‘ Such is not the case.* 
 cries the critic; ‘authors (with some rare exceptions), either from 
 incapacity or indolence, have for many years past trusted not to their 
 own wit and invention. Original composition was too troublesome 
 a task. They could not endure the labour of thinking. And as the 
 productions of their continental neighbours were easily attainable, 
 they would not tax native talent for a single scene.’ ‘A word to 
 that!’ replies the manager. ‘ Who among this enlightened genera- 
 tion of play-goers has seen the mirth-moving old English entertain- 
 ments that made our fathers and mothers merry? Garrick, Colman, 
 and O’Keefe are as much novelties to them as any newly fledged 
 playwright of yesterday. Yet, shoud a manager hazard the bold 
 experiment of reviving these by-gone favourites, pit, box, and gallery 
 would go a-begging ! With such facts staring him in the face, what 
 author would run the risk of being damned for his originality? Jf, 
 as an original, he is to be one particle of pudding out of pocket, let 
 him continue to draw upon the French firm of Scribe and Company, 
 and eschew the hungry honour !* 
 
 We propose to act as moderator between critic and manager. 
 Authors without one original idea have long held almost exclusive 
 ’ possession of the stage. With plot, character, and dialogue ready- 
 made to their hands, theirs has only been the task of adaptation, 
 
 - hence very tolerable dramas have been knocked off by the translating 
 tribe with astonishing rapidity. The Athenian thirst for something 
 new on the part of the play-going public has been highly propitious 
 to these gentry. An author may be set down as tolerably prolific if 
 in one season he produce ten respectable acts of tragedy, comedy, 
 opera, or even farce, entirely original. But the novelty loving public 
 are too impatient to wait for this too- tardy process oi literary gesta- 
 tion ; and the manager, w'hose thankful vocation it is to cater for the 
 public’s craving ! naturally takes into his pay the scribe who can 
 most expeditiously appropriate to himself the property of his betters. 
 The wire-drawn and intricate plots of the French stage are extremely 
 amusing, — a fact much in favour of the traducteur ; since to trans- 
 late a plot minutely mapped out is not a difficult matter: whereas to 
 make sparkling thoughts in one language speak in another without 
 losing any of their brilliancy, is not so easy. An audience of 
 moderate capacity can readily comprehend the humour of an en- 
 trance or an exit out at the window, cr up the chimney; the intense 
 comicality of a trap-door, and all that, in stage parlance, is denomi- 
 nated ‘ practicable .* But refined wit, elegant and sprightly dialogue, 
 nicely-discriminated character, and keen sarcasm— nay humour — un- 
 less, of course, it be very coarse, are not quite so palpable to popular 
 intelligences! Not that the modern French stage is deficient in 
 
6 
 
 REMARKS, 
 
 these dramatic requisites ; it beats the modern British stage by many 
 a bar’s length. The translator, having possessed himself of the plot, 
 an outline of the characters, and a smattering of the dialogue, turns 
 the first two to profitable account, and then, considering what buf- 
 foons among the company for whom he scribbles are to burlesque 
 the principal parts, he engrafts his own pertness and vulgarity upon 
 the original text, and leaves the professional Jack-Puddings to gri- 
 mace and interpolate their own nonsense at pleasure ! Now if the 
 pub ic will neither wait nor pay for original compositions, and if 
 authors (worth the having!) will not write them for nothing, the 
 public must put up with translations. And it might be well if such 
 authors would condescend to furnish managers with creditable ver- 
 sions of the best French dramas. It would take the task out of very 
 incompetent hands and do long-delayed justice to our ingenious 
 neightoms. Let the base part of the Parisian stage be adapted and 
 purified by kindred dunces. To them belongs the congenial vocation 
 of filtering muddy water through a cullender. 
 
 They have misused the French press (as Falstaff did the King's!) 
 
 * damnably.’ They need not to have crossed the Channel for a se- 
 ducer, a gamester, or a roue , — for sedition, indecency, and profane- 
 ness ; — these rank weeds are in full flower here. But for an exquisite 
 specimen of cool, sentimental, premeditated scoundrelism — some- 
 thing beyond every-day villany— France, most assuredly, is the 
 native soil. In England, judges, juries, and people shrink with dis- 
 gust and horror from mendacity, when it assumes an unusual and 
 exaggerated form. In France (as we have recently seen), judges, 
 juries, and people palliate, pardon, and applaud it! Is it because 
 Frenchmen behold in such a monster of turpitude no very out- 
 rageously- overdrawn character of themselves? ‘A fellow-feeling* 
 making them ‘wondrous kind !’ 
 
 * Besides, with justice this discerning age 
 Admires their wondrous talents for the stage : 
 
 Well may they venture on the mimic’s art 
 Who play from morn to night a borrow’d part.’ 
 
 And again, 
 
 * Studious to please, and ready to submit, 
 
 The supple Gaul was born a parasite. 
 
 All sciences a fasting Monsieur knows; 
 
 And bid him go to hell, to hell he goes.* 
 
 The junior Colman, Morton, Reynolds, and Tom Dibdin, got a 
 thousand pounds for a successful, and what Mr. Harris was wont to 
 call ‘ a good coat-and-waisteoat’ comedy And this large sum was 
 returned to the theatre with a very considerable profit. ‘The blue 
 coats did the business,’ said that judicious and liberal manager, in 
 reference to the fashionable and favourite dress of the inimitable 
 Lewis. The social disposition of King George the Third inclined 
 him to the theatre, where he saw his subjects in their most intellec- 
 tual and happiest hours. Prirce and people beheld each other with 
 cheerful hearts and smiling faces. The laugh went round. The 
 actor (and what actors then lived !) did not engross the lion’s share 
 of the profit — the pounds— and to the poor playwright leave the 
 pence. He who meritoriously and successfully wrote (and success, 
 at that time, generally waited on merit) was supposed to be entitled 
 to the most liberal remuneration. ‘ Sir,’ said the veteran Morton to 
 the writer, ‘if a manager had dared to offer me the paltry pittance 
 doled out in the present day to the dramatist, I should have invited 
 him to a bruising bout on my bowling-green !’ 
 
REMARKS, 
 
 7 
 
 A member of the Garrick Club (the playwright and player’s ‘ Re- 
 fuge for the Destitute’ !) promised the library of that stage- 
 patronising institution a set of The Modern British Drama; — and 
 the satirical wag kept his word by sending the voluminous works of 
 Messieurs Scribe and Company ! A very appropriate present to such 
 a recondite repository of Monmouth Street literature ! To that pro- 
 lific and popular firm English audiences, for many years past, owe 
 much of their merriment in the way of acknowledged translation, 
 and ( sub rosa !) literary petty larceny. ‘ Giralda, ou la Nouveau 
 Psyche ,’ is a fair specimen of this ingenious and entertaining school. 
 The plot is intricate and intriguing, the characters are full of spirit 
 and gaiety; the language is terse, piquant, and polite, and the de- 
 nouement anything but mock-moral. The over-devout wife who 
 gives to a superstitious zeal the heart that she owes to her husband, 
 her volatile and somewhat libertine lord, the perplexed and pretty 
 heroine, and her mercenary miller are naturally and pleasantly 
 drawn. Two versions of this lively drama have already appeared — 
 one at the Haymarket and one at the Olympic ; neither of which 
 convey the well-bred humour and vivacity of the original. Actors, 
 now-a-days, are too much addicted to buffooning. A dwarfish droll 
 presumes upon his mere dwarfishness, and a man-mountain Mr. Mer- 
 riniiin upon his overgrown bulk. A merry-andrew with a muffin 
 face is not a proper study for an author. The horse-collar should 
 take measure of him. 
 
 The present adaptation of Giralda to the English stage does ample 
 justice to the original author, M. Scribe. It is not a mere literal 
 translation (inasmuch as the Giralda of M. Scribe is an opera), but a 
 free and spirited transfusion of the wit and humour of one language 
 into another. The interpolations (and they are but few) are happily 
 introduced. The drama, in its new dress, will play, as it reads, 
 admirably. It is compact, crisp, and elegant. To the same judicious 
 pen the public is indebted for the English adaptation of Don Caesar 
 de Bazan. 
 
 D G. 
 
 STAGE DIRECTIONS. 
 
 The Conductors of this work print no plays but those which they 
 have seen acted. The Stage Directions are given from personal ob- 
 servations, during the most recent performances. 
 
 EXITS and ENTRANCES. 
 
 R. means Right ; L. Left ; F. the Flat , or Scene running across 
 the back of the Stage; D. F. Door in Flat; R. D. Right Door\; 
 L. D. Left Door ; S. E. Second Entrance; U. E. Upper Entrance; 
 C. D. Centre Door. 
 
 RELATIVE POSITIONS. 
 
 R. means Right; L. Left ; C. Centre; R. C .Right of Centre ; 
 L. C. Left of Centre. 
 
 R. R. C. C. L. C. L. 
 
 *** The Reader is supposed to be on the Stage , facing the Audience. 
 
Cast of Characters. 
 
 Haymarket. Olympic. 
 
 King Mr. H. Hughes. Mr. W. Farren, jun. 
 
 Don Japhet Mr. Paul Bedford. Mr. G. Cooke. 
 
 Don Manuel Mr. Boyce. Mr. Leigh Murray. 
 
 Gil Perez (a miller) . . Mr. Wright. Mr. Cobnpton. 
 
 Queen Miss E. Harding. Mrs. Leigh Murray. 
 
 Giralda Miss K. Fitzwilliam. Mrs. Stirling. 
 
 Lords, Ladies , Bridesmaids, Guards , Villagers , fye. 
 Scene — Laid in Gallicia. Period — 1650. 
 
 Costume. 
 
 KING.— Elegant dark shape — black hoots and spurs — Mark hat 
 and feather — sword. Second Dress: Shoes and jewelled collar. 
 
 DON JAPHET. — Brown shape, trimmed with scarlet— plain 
 black Spanish hat and feather— sword. 
 
 DON MANUEL — Neat drab shape — boots and spurs — brown hat 
 and long red feather — sword — cloak. 
 
 GIL PEREZ. — Wide trunk breeches — red stocking®— shoes — belt 
 and shirt— flaxen wig — wedding coat (drab c oth), trimmed with 
 scarlet — large wedding favour of pink and blue ribands — drab som- 
 brero, with profusion of feathers. 
 
 LORDS. — Handsome shape dresses. 
 
 GUARDS. — riain dresses— half armour — black sombreros — ar- 
 quebuses. 
 
 VILLAGERS. — Picturesque holiday costumes of Spain. 
 
 QUEEN. — Black velvet riding habit— hat and feather— large 
 rosary and beads. Second Dress: Splendid brocade or velvet, open 
 in front — white satin under-dress, embroidered with gold— head- 
 dress of pearls and jewels. 
 
 LADIES. — Plain dark dresses— close-fitting cowls, rosaries, and 
 beads. Second Dress : Rich court costumes. 
 
 GIRALDA. — Very neat white silk bridal dress, trimmed with pale 
 blue— hair plain— white wreath. 
 
 BRIDESMAIDS.— Gay Spanish dresses. , 
 
G I II A L D A 
 
 OR 
 
 WHICH IS MY HUSBAND ? 
 
 ACT I. 
 
 SCENE I. — The front entrance to a Farm-house , r., a 
 Granary , l. At the back , on one side , an open country , 
 and the town of St. Jaques de Compostello , with its 
 Cathedral , on the other. The road rises gradually from 
 the Farm to the Chapel of the Cathedral. The action 
 commences in broad daylight ; as it proceeds , the sun 
 sets , twilight follows , and then the Moon rises. 
 
 Villagers , Male and Female , discovered , dancing a Bolero 
 to the musv of their mandolines and castanets . 
 
 SERENADE. 
 
 Happy and pay, 
 
 On their bridal day, 
 
 Ne’er may they know 
 One feeling of woe, 
 
 But enjoy all the blessings of love ! 
 
 Enter Gil Peres, l., from the Farm-house. 
 
 Gil. Oh, oh ! what will become of me ? 
 
 Peas. Well ! here we've all come to your wedding, and 
 you're not dressed yet ! 
 
 Gil. No, and I’m likely to remain undressed ; — that 
 confounded tailor has not brought my wedding-suit, and 
 I shall be quite laughed at. 
 
 Peas. Poor Gil 1 
 
 Gil. Pity me not— I hate to be pitied. 
 
 Peas. Well, never mind : we’ll brush off the flour, and 
 you must manage somehow. 
 
 Gil. Manage ! perhaps, to lose the girl and her three 
 
10 
 
 giralda. 
 
 [act t. 
 
 hundred ducats. [. Looking off.] Ah ! what do I see ? 
 Tm safe, egad, and so are the ducats. Oh, thou rascally 
 tailor ! 
 
 Enter Tailor , with box, r. 
 
 Where is ray wedding-suit? 
 
 [ Tailor bows 'politely and shows a coat profusely 
 covered with bows of pink and blue ribands . 
 
 Peas. Oh, how elegant ! how superb ! 
 
 Gil. [ Putting it on, and turning about.] Well ! how do 
 I look ? 
 
 Peas. Oh, beautiful 1 
 
 Gil. I'm happy to bear it. [ Turning to Tailor.] Now 
 the bouquet — now the hat — [Putting on the hat , which is 
 smothered in a profusion of feathers.] Well, I fancy that 
 finishes me off, and just in time too, for here comes Gi- 
 ralda. 
 
 Enter Gjralda, l., dressed as a Village Bride, her eyes 
 fixed on the ground . 
 
 Peas. Welcome, welcome, dear Giralda ! we all wish 
 you joy. 
 
 Gir. Thank you, my friends, — go into the farm, and 
 refresh yourselves. [Whispering to Gil.] I wish to speak 
 with you, alone ! 
 
 Gil. [Aside.] Alone ! [Aloud.] Oh ! I've not the 
 slightest objection. [Turning to Peasants.] Pray walk 
 in, — you’ll find wine, fowls, everything at your service. 
 [Bows them off, and goes close to Giralda.] Well, my 
 love, what have you to say to me ? we’re quite alone now. 
 
 Gir. [Agitated.] Listen, Mr. Gil : I’ve two little cir- 
 cumstances with which I wish to make you acquainted. 
 
 Gil. [Starting.] Two little circumstances l You surely 
 don’t mean — eh ? two little — oh, dear l 
 
 Gir. Patience ! I tremble so, I scarce can tell the tale. 
 You know that you, the rich miller, are about to be mar- 
 ried to me, a poor orphan 
 
 Gil. Don’t mention it. Three hundred ducats, money 
 down, are not so bad. [Shaking his pocket. 
 
 Gir. And that my father having been, during the civil 
 wars, proscribed and exiled, you would very likely be im- 
 plicated, were it known you had married me. 
 
 Gil . I don’t see that ! — my marrying you will not make 
 me your father, any more than your mother ! 
 
 Gir. Pray, Gil, be serious — I’ve not yet disclosed the 
 worst. 
 
G1R ALDA. 
 
 SCENE I.] 
 
 11 
 
 Gil. Now, don’t be embellishing our wedding-day in 
 this style. What can it matter, so that I love you and 
 you love me? 
 
 Gir. [Starting.] Ah! but I don’t — [ Gil contemplates 
 her with stupid astonishment] — and, oh think, Gil — think 
 what a horrible thing it would be to have a wife who loves 
 another ! 
 
 Gil . [After a pause.] Well, I do think it would not be 
 quite pleasant, even with three hundred ducats in pocket ; 
 but, you can’t possibly love another, for I’m the only 
 bachelor in the village. 
 
 Gir. But he whom I love, and who loves me, doesn’t 
 belong to the village, nor the neighbourhood either. No, 
 Gil — you shall know all ; and then, if you persist, I shall 
 say you love the ducats, but that you have neither love 
 nor compassion for the poor unhappy Giralda. 
 
 Gil . But have you not always been looked upon as a 
 paragon of virtue ? 
 
 Gir. I ? 
 
 Gil. Oh ! if you dispute it, I give up the point ; — but 
 pray who is this lover ? 
 
 Gir. [Looking innocently up into GiVs face.] I don’t 
 know. 
 
 * Gil. What is he ? 
 
 Gir. I don’t know. 
 
 Gil . Has he no name ? 
 
 Gir. He has never told me one. 
 
 Gil. Is he a good figure ? 
 
 Gir. I’ve never seen it. 
 
 Gil. [Looking complacently on his own figure.] Now 
 I’ll be bound he’s as ugly as 
 
 Gir. No, that I’m sure he’s not; — for he loves me so. 
 
 Gil. Well, and can no one love but him ? I flatter my- 
 self I could make a woman happy ; I’m a man of sub- 
 stance, and surely better than half a dozen invisible hus- 
 bands. 
 
 Gir. Nay, be serious. You know, Gil, ever since my 
 uncle has had the gout 1 go every Wednesday to market 
 to sell the produce of the farm ; and, in order to be there 
 by the early morning, I’m obliged to start late at night. 
 
 Gil. That’s true ; — you rise with the owl instead of 
 the lark : but you must have a lonely ride — you and the 
 donkey ! 
 
 Gir . I was going to tell you that, about three months 
 
12 
 
 GIRALDA. 
 
 [act I. 
 
 since, as I was riding through the wood, at that part where 
 the sycamores are thickest, I suddenly heard the tramp of 
 horses, and in the next moment I was seized 
 
 Gil . By that invisible lover of yours ? 
 
 Gir. No ; by a ruffian’s grasp. I was whirled from my 
 seat ; but I gave a good shriek, and in the next moment, a 
 cavalier who had heard my cry for help rushed to my 
 assistance, and struck down the man who had seized me, 
 his sword flashing like lightning around us. The villains, 
 panic-struck, made their escape, leaving me alone with my 
 preserver, whose features I could not discover, but whose 
 voice was — oh, so sweet ! 4 Fear not/ he said ; and, while 
 I was trembling with affright, he gently placed me before 
 him on his horse, and thus we trotted along. 
 
 Gil. Very pleasantly, no doubt ? 
 
 Gir. [ With a deep sigh .] Oh yes, very ! I told him who I 
 was, and what I was, and where 1 was going, and all about it. 
 
 Gil. No doubt you did 1 
 
 Gir. Well, when we had arrived at the end of the wood, 
 he gently lifted me to the ground, and disappeared. In the 
 fulness of my heart, I offered up a prayer 
 
 Gil. For your wonderful escape 1 
 
 Gir. No, Gil ; — that I might see him again ! And my 
 prayer was heard : for ever since, as sure as market-day 
 comes round, he meets me at the same spot, and in the 
 same kind and gentlemanly manner guards me to the end 
 of the wood. 
 
 Gil. Giralda, you seem very much pleased with this gal- 
 lant’s attentions. 
 
 Gir . And so would you be, Gil, if you loved him as I do. 
 
 Gil. I’m not likely to do anything so foolish. 
 
 Gir. So, now you are quite certain that somebody loves 
 me, and that I love somebody, and that that somebody is 
 not you, you will not surely persist in making me your 
 wife ! But if you do, Gil, every market-day I shall be on 
 the road to the wood. [ Exit hastily into Farm-house , l. 
 
 Gil. But I’ve got the ducats 1 I’ve been paid, and, as 
 a man of honour, I must keep the money and fulfil the 
 contract. [Seeing Don Japhet.] Ah! who have we here ? 
 
 Enter Don Japhet, r. u. e., looking about pompously , 
 folloived by Attendants. 
 
 DonJ. [To Attendants. ] Now, look about, and see if 
 this wretched place contains a single habitation befitting 
 royalty. [To Gil.~\ Come hither, dolt. [Exeunt Attendants. 
 
SCENE I.] GIRALDA. 13 
 
 Gil. He must be some grandee— -he speaks as familiarly 
 as though he knew me. 
 
 Don J. Does this farm belong to you ? 
 
 Gil . [ Taking off his hat , which he holds behind, him .] 
 No, your highness ; I keep the mill a league-and-a-half 
 off. Happy to supply your highness. 
 
 Don J. [. Pointing to Farm.'] This house, the best in 
 this miserable locality, to whom does it belong ? 
 
 Gil. To Nicholo Almeda, sire, my honoured fathei - in-law 
 that is to be. 
 
 Don J . Going to be married, are you ? Better hang 
 yourself ! 
 
 Gil. Oh, then, you are married ? 
 
 Don J . [Sharply.] Certainly not ; and I will thank you 
 to intimate to your father-in-law that is to be that I shall 
 require the use of his house for to-night, for the accommo- 
 dation of their Majesties the Queen of Spain and Prince of 
 Aragon. 
 
 Gil. Is it possible ? Their Majesties ! 
 
 Don J. Yes : they cannot possibly reach Saint Jaques 
 de Compostello before to-morrow, and they will therefore 
 remain here for the night. 
 
 Gil. Then I shall be turned out of my bed on my wed- 
 ding-night ? 
 
 Don J. Sir, you will have that honour. 
 
 Gil. That's very fine; but how would your highness like 
 to pass your wedding-night in the mountains, at this season 
 of the year ? 
 
 Don J. Not at all ; but it is not often that a peasant 
 gets his nuptials so dignified, and you may go and tell 
 your father-in-law of what honour awaits him and you ! 
 Fly, sirrah ! 
 
 Gil. I’m off! [Aside.] A rare commencement of con- 
 nubial bliss ! [Exit, l. 
 
 Don J. [To himself.] Really, when any one speaks of 
 marriage, it quite unnerves me ; but I must turn my se- 
 rious attention to seeing our suite properly lodged. Let 
 me see — [Taking out pocket-book.] — a chamber for the 
 King, another for the Queen. Then there are the pages, 
 the maids of honour, and the gentlemen of the bedchamber. 
 How am I to separate them in a royal residence of perhaps 
 three rooms ? [Reflecting. 
 
 Enter Don Manuel from the back, r. u. e. 
 
 Don M. What could have kept her from the forest yes- 
 u 
 
14 
 
 GIRALDA. 
 
 [act I. 
 
 terdav ? It is now eight days since I beheld her sweet 
 face. Ah ! this is Nicholo Almedo's farm ; — I know some- 
 what of him, and will make an excuse. 
 
 [He turns , and finds himself face to face with Don Japhet . 
 
 Don J. Don Manuel l 
 
 Don M. [Aside.] Confusion ! Don Japhet ! You know 
 me. 
 
 Don J. You precede their Majesties ? 
 
 Don M. You are right. 
 
 Don J. The Court will not reach Santiago, of which 
 you are the governor, until to-morrow. The Queen is 
 anxious to perform her devotions at the shrine of Saint 
 Jaques le Majeur. Our pious Queen, who would fain 
 convert her cousin, Philip of Aragon, is as particular in 
 her piety, and as eminent for her virtues, as her lord is— 
 
 [ Looking significantly . 
 
 Don M. For his follies. 
 
 Don J. [Putting his finger on his lip.] I did not say so. 
 
 Don M. No, but you thought so. Well, his only fault 
 is 
 
 Don /. That he falls in love with every pretty woman 
 he meets. 
 
 Don M. Ah ! but he loves his wife, and thus disarms 
 her jealousy. 
 
 Don J. There you’re wrong; for I am commanded by 
 her Majesty to keep strict watch over the Prince, and report 
 to her everything that I can learn. 
 
 Don M. Indeed 1 
 
 Don J. True, I assure you; and some one apprized his 
 Majesty of the fact. So, to be revenged, he said to some 
 of his friends, loud enough for ine to hear — * Ah, ah ! 
 Don Japhet, I find, has been mixing himself up with my 
 family affairs ; now mark me — if ev6r he marries, he shall 
 find me mixed up with his.’ 
 
 Don M. Indeed 1 But as you are not very likely to 
 marry just now 
 
 Don J . No, truly ; for ’tis done already. I am married 
 to Rosina de Pontevedra, one of her Majesty's maids of 
 honour ; but I keep it a secret, for fear the King should 
 fulfil his royal promise. 
 
 Don M. You may be well assured that, in matters of 
 that sort at least, his royal word may be depended on. 
 
 Don J. But with your influence with the Queen, you 
 could warn her to keep a sharp look-out on the Prince, 
 and thus make her jealousy my safeguard. By-the-by, 
 
GIRALDA. 
 
 SCENE I.] 
 
 15 
 
 this farm will be the resting-place of their Majesties to- 
 night. 
 
 Don M. To-night ? 
 
 Don J. Yes ; I must see to the requisite preparations. 
 You’ll not fail to arouse the jealousy of the Queen ? 
 
 Don M. I'll consider of it. 
 
 [Exit Don Japhet into the Farm , r. 
 
 Don M. So, the King is to pass the night here ! Should 
 he catch a glimpse of the charming Giralda, I may be 
 robbed of my dearest treasure. 
 
 AIR — Don Manuel. 
 
 [Music at Davidson’s, Peter’s Hill, Doctors’ Commons, London— 3d.] 
 Oh ! brightest flower the breeze e’er fann’d. 
 
 Thou blossom fresh and fair ! 
 
 Thy form, once planted in my heart, 
 
 Must bloom for ever there. 
 
 No pow’r can dim, no time efface 
 The love that burns for thee : 
 
 Thy virtue is the guiding-star 
 That brightly beams for me. 
 
 [The sJcy has become gradually dark , and shouts of 
 laughter are heard from within the Farm. 
 
 Don M. Ah ! what mean those shouts ? Pray heaven, 
 their Majesties have not yet arrived. [Retires up , c. 
 
 Re-enter Gil Peres from the Farm-house , r., in his wed - 
 ding-suit, enveloped in a large cloak , and hat pulled over 
 his eyes . 
 
 Gil. Ay, laugh if you like ; but I don't see anything to 
 laugh at. I'm not to sleep in my bridal bed, and I sup- 
 pose the next joke will be to set aside my marriage alto- 
 gether. 
 
 Don M. [ Coming down , c.] What's the matter, friend? 
 Gil. [In an ill-humour . ] Everything 's the matter, and 
 on the happiest day of my life I’m the most miserable 
 dog breathing. 
 
 Don M. Indeed 1 
 
 Gil. Yes, sir, I’m Gil Per£s, the miller, at your service, 
 
 about to be happily married, and 
 
 Don M. A wedding ! [Aside . ] So much the better ; 
 Giralda will in all probability be here. 
 
 Gil. Our bridal chamber has been mis-appropriated to 
 the King and Queen. 
 
 Don M. But think of the honour, Gil Peres ! 
 
 Gil. I should better like the honour if it had been 
 accompanied with a douceur of a hundred ducats. I think 
 b 2 
 
16 
 
 GIRALDA. 
 
 [act I. 
 
 I could then make up my mind to connubialise in my 
 mill, of which here is the key ; — but there's no telling : 
 perhaps they’ll want that next. 
 
 Don M. Why, good Gil ? 
 
 Gil. The priest who was to have married us is ordered 
 to pray with the Queen instead, and we are to be spliced 
 by old Gregory, in a dismal cavern of a chapel among the 
 rocks, with just light enough to enable him to count his 
 fees : while the Queen and her court are being shrived by 
 the blaze of the very candles I have paid for, and amidst 
 the flowers and decorations that were intended to grace the 
 nuptials of the unfortunate Gil ! 
 
 Don M. Never mind, Gil : so that you love one 
 another 
 
 . Gil. Ah 1 there's the rub — we don’t; — that is, I’m 
 bound to love her; I’ve had three hundred ducats on pur- 
 pose that I might love her ; but she don’t love me, nor 
 she won’t, she says. Oh, Giralda ! 
 
 Don M. [ Starting .] Giralda ! Is it Giralda you are to 
 marry ? who would marry you ? 
 
 Gil. She ! Not at all l If she were not afraid of her 
 uncle, the farmer, she’d say no — right out at once ; but, 
 as I’ve got the money, I say yes. 
 
 Don M. [Aside.] Thank heaven, I may yet save her 
 from such a mercenary buffoon. You say you are to be 
 married in yonder little chapel ? 
 
 Gil . Yes ! we are to start almost directly. 
 
 Don M. And where is she you would marry ? 
 
 Gil . [Ruminating , with his hand in his pocket.] Three 
 hundred ducats — the money in hand, that's the main 
 thing — and Giralda 
 
 Don M. Ah 1 a thought. [To Gil.] I’ll give you 
 double that sum on condition of your allowing me to take 
 your place, and be married to her instead of you. 
 
 Gil. You will ? 
 
 Don M. [Producing a purse.] Yes ; will you make the 
 bargain ? 
 
 Gil. What shall I do ? [Aside.] He must be the 
 devil. 
 
 Don M. See ! six hundred ducats ! — here they are — all 
 in gold ! 
 
 Gil. In gold ! [ Touching the purse.] Well, that’s 
 
 not so bad either ; — I shall get six hundred ducats for a 
 wife that don’t want to have me. 
 
 [ Holds out his hand for the money. 
 
SCENE I.] GIRALDA. 17 
 
 Don M. Stay, I must have your hat and cloak ; and 
 mind — not a word ; and keep yourself out of sight. 
 
 ■ Gil . [ Reluctantly eyeing his hat and feathers , as Don 
 Manuel takes them off his person .] There 1 
 
 Don. M. Yes ; under this disguise I shall this night 
 conduct her to the mill, as my wife — my wife l 
 
 Gil. Your pardon, sir ! you spoke of 
 
 Don M. Ah 1 by the way, that's well thought of — give 
 me the key. 
 
 Gil. ( Hesitating .] The key of my mill ? 
 
 Don M. After we're married — its all easy enough. Look 
 at this. [ Shaking the purse in Gil's face. 
 
 Gil . [Seizing it .] Yes, but I’d rather it should be mine 
 before you’ve got possession. Six hundred ducats for a 
 wife that don't belong to me 1 There are hundreds would 
 give double that sum to get rid of one that did ! 
 
 [Exit hastily into the Granary — Don Manuel en- 
 veloped in the cloak , and his features hidden by 
 the feathers in his hat f remains in the centre of 
 the Stage. 
 
 Re-enter Giralda from the Farm-house , r., accompanied 
 by Bridesmaids , Sfc. 
 
 Bridesmaid. Cheer up, Giralda ! 
 
 Don M. [ Starting , and seeing Giralda in her bridal 
 drew.] Oh, happiness 1 Heaven assist me. 
 
 [ Giralda takes Don Manuel's hand , whom she mis- 
 takes for Gil. 
 
 AIR — Giralda. 
 
 [Music at Davidson’s, Peter’s Hill, Doctors* Commons, London — 3d.} 
 
 Oh ! think, before thou rend’st a heart 
 With purest love that glows. 
 
 That when the storm has o’er it passed, 
 
 No longer blooms the rose ! 
 
 Remember, too, there’s One above 
 Who, merciful and meek, 
 
 Will, tho’ he strike the oppressor low, 
 
 Find shelter for the weak ! 
 
 Condemn me not to endless woe, 
 
 But set a prisoner free ; 
 
 For know, this heart can never feel 
 One pang of love for thee ! 
 
 Gir. Ob, hear me, ere it be too late ! Do not force me 
 to utter vows which I cannot fulfil, — oh, in mercy release 
 me ! 
 
 Don M. [Aside.] Then she loves him not. [Aloud.] 
 Come ! 
 
 B 3 
 
18 
 
 GIRALDA. 
 
 [act r. 
 
 Gir. Oh, I would rather die ! 
 
 [Exit Don Manuel , leading Giralda , who follows 
 reluctantly , casting imploring looks at her Com- 
 panions : all wend their way towards the Chapel , 
 r. u. e., to slow music. 
 
 Re-enter Gil Peres, from the Granary , l., with the 
 purse in his hand , looking after the Wedding -procession. 
 
 Gil. Well, it’s plain she didn’t love me ; and I decidedly 
 think I’ve got the best of the bargain. [Starting.] Ah, 
 the Queen ! I must be missing, and leave the coast 
 clear for my substitute. 
 
 Enter Officers of the Guard , carrying flambeaux ; the 
 
 King and Queen, attended by Courtiers — the Queen 
 
 leaning on the arm of her Chamberlain , Don Japhet, 
 
 r. u. E. 
 
 The King. [Coming forward , aside.] Youth, they say, is 
 the time for pleasure ; and as I am in duty bound to wear 
 the chains that link me to her devout Majesty, I must do 
 the best I can to cover them with roses. [Turning to the 
 Queen , and offering her his arm.] Your Majesty is, I fear, 
 fatigued with the journey ? 
 
 The Queen • Rather ; and nothing but a long night of 
 prayer at the shrine of Santiago will recruit me. 
 
 The King. A long night ! [Aside.] So much the 
 better. 
 
 DonJ. [To the Queen.] I have prepared the best apart- 
 ments for your Majesties that this humble farm-house 
 affords. 
 
 The King. Farm-house ! delightful ! after the formali- 
 ties of a palace, this rural retreat will be delicious. [To 
 Don Japhet.] We’ll have a rustic supper ! 
 
 Don J. [Apart to the King.] Nothing shall be wanting 
 in the way of good cheer ; your Majesty may depend on me. 
 
 The King. [To the Gentlemen of the Court. ] We invite 
 you to drink the health of these honest peasants ; we will 
 have a f6te in honour of them ; while — [Looking at the 
 Queen] — the Queen will be better engaged. 
 
 The Queen. [Haughtily.] Philip, you forget yourself. 
 
 The King. [Turning to Don Japhet.] 1 would know 
 more of this place ; are there many inhabitants ? 
 
 Don J. Apparently not, your Majesty ; but as there is 
 to be a wedding here this evening, doubtless that event may 
 tendsto add to the population. 
 
GIR ALDA* 
 
 19 
 
 SCENE I.] 
 
 The King. A wedding, — a village bride, — I must see her. 
 
 The Queen. [ To Don Japhet .] This spot is ill-chosen, 
 Don Japhet — this wedding-party 
 
 Don J. Pardon me, your Majesty — I have desired them 
 not to presume to be happy here ; so they will retire to their 
 homes, some distance hence. 
 
 The Queen. All the better 
 
 The King. Ail the worse l A meddling old fool. 
 
 Don J. Yes ; after the ceremony the bridegroom will 
 conduct his bride to his mill on the mountain. 
 
 The King. [. Aside .] Ah ! I must remember that 1 
 
 The Queen. [Apart to Don Japhet .] See that you 
 occupy the apartment next to the one prepared for Don 
 Philip. 
 
 Don J. [. Bowing .] You honour me, most gracious 
 Queen. 
 
 The Queen. [ Significantly .] And in the morning you 
 will be able to tell me how his Majesty has slept 1 [ Turns 
 to the Gentlemen in waiting.'] You, gentlemen 
 
 Don J. Her Majesty would give the pass word. 
 
 [ The Gentlemen surround the Queen, who appears 
 to give orders, when Giralda and Don Manuel 
 enter on the l. side. 
 
 Gir. Why did you bring me so hurriedly from the 
 chapel ? We have left our companions ever so far behind. 
 
 [ Disengaging herself from Don Manuel , she turns 
 suddenly, and runs against the King. 
 
 Gir. Pardon, sire. [Seeing the Gentlemen in waiting.] 
 Oh ! what fine gentlemen ! See, Gil ! 
 
 Don M. [Looking round.] Heavens 1 the King ! 
 
 [He suddenly throws off his cloak and hat, and dis- 
 appears into the Granary — at the same moment 
 Giralda is joined by her Bridesmaids and party . 
 
 Don J. [To the King.] That is the wedding-party. 
 [Aside.] How unfortunate ! 
 
 The King. What surpassing beauty ! [Taking Giralda' s 
 hand.] You, then, are the bride? 
 
 Gir. [Courts eying.] Yes, sire, and foster-daughter of 
 Almedo, the farmer here ! 
 
 The Queen. And before heaven’s altar you have pledged 
 your vows ? 
 
 Gir. [Again courtseying.] To Gil Peres, the miller, lady. 
 
 The King. Who lives not far hence ? 
 
 Gir. At the Mill de Tambra, sire. 
 
 The King . f Aside.] This information will be useful. 
 
20 GIRALDA. [ACT I. 
 
 The Queen. I would see your husband ; let him ap- 
 proach. 
 
 Gir. [ Turning to where Don Manuel was standing.'] 
 Here, Gil. [ Finding he has gone.] Ah! only a moment 
 since he was here I 
 
 Peasants. [ Seeing the hat and cloak on the ground.] 
 Well, he must have undergone severe pressure if he's here 
 now. [. Raising the hat. 
 
 Gir. He must have gone into the farm, then. [ Calling :] 
 Gil! Gil! 
 
 Gil. [ Putting his head out of the loft-window over the 
 Granary door.] Well, who wants me i Bless me, what a 
 posse of line folks ! 
 
 Peas. Come down this instant, — ’tis the Queen demands 
 to speak with you. 
 
 The King. What a boor ; methinks I need not fear him 
 for a rival. 
 
 Enter Gil Peres, hurriedly , from the Granary , l. 
 
 Gil. The Queen ? me 1 [Bowing.] Oh, I could not 
 possibly refuse. I hope your Majesty is well ? 
 
 The Queen. [To Giralda.] And is this your husband l , 
 
 Gir. Alas ! yes. 
 
 Gil. How ! she owns me ? 
 
 Gir. At present he is not quite himself, — he's confused. 
 
 Gil. No ! I think I’m not quite myself. [Feeling his 
 pocket.] The money's safe, however 1 but where can my 
 substitute be ? 
 
 The King. Accept my congratulations, sweet 
 
 The Queen. [To Don Japhet.] Don Philip seems quite 
 taken with this girl. [Sharply , to Gil.] You will imme- 
 diately conduct your wife to your home ; to your mill — 
 
 Gil. [Looking anxiously about for Don Matiuel] Me 1 
 [Aside.] Where can he be ? What will become of me ? 
 [Turning to the Queen.] Me, madam? 
 
 The Queen. [Haughtily .] I believe I spoke plainly. 
 
 The King. [Aside,] I must remember — the Mill de 
 Tambra, and the mountain. 
 
 Gil. [Apart to Giralda .J But do you consent? 
 
 Gir. [In a melancholy tone.] I must, Gil — I've no 
 choice now ! 
 
 Gil. [Aside.] Here’s a pretty position to be in ! Where 
 can my substitute be ? 
 
 Peas. Begone 1 the Queen is impatient ; take your cloak 
 and your hat. 
 
GIRALDA. 
 
 21 
 
 SCENE I.] 
 
 Gil. [. Astonished .] My cloak and hat ? He must have 
 been the devil ! 
 
 The Queen. [To her Retinue.'] Now to the chapel. [To 
 the King.] You will to the farm. 
 
 The King. [Aside.] Or to the mill. 
 
 Gil. [Looking at Giralda.] Well, she consents, and if 
 my substitute chooses to leave me the ducats and the lady 
 too, I must endeavour to make the best of both — I resign 
 myself to fate. 
 
 [Exeunt, the King and Don Japhet into Farm, r. 
 The Queen and her Suite wind gently up the 
 Mountain to the Chapel, l. u. e., to Organ 
 Music ; and Gil , reluctantly followed by Giralda, 
 takes his way towards the Mill , R. u. e., as the 
 Curtain falls. 
 
 END OF ACT I. 
 
 ACT II. 
 
 SCENE I. — Interior of a Mill; doors r. and, l. and 
 small secret door next to the one \.. ; a window , with 
 folding doors in flat, opening into the balcony ; on r. of 
 window , the chief entrance leading down the Mountain. 
 In the centre of the floor, a trap -door ; and to the left 
 of it, a small table , on which is a lighted candle . 
 
 Enter Bridesmaids, conducting Giralda and Gil, at the 
 principal entrance. 
 
 Gil. Thank you, my friends ; thank you— now we shall 
 do. A good night to you all. 
 
 Bridesmaids. No, no, Mr. Gil ; you must conform to 
 etiquette : we must finish our duties — so “don’t be im- 
 patient. 
 
 Gir. [To Bridesmaids.] Oh, do not leave me ! 
 Bridesmaids. No, no ! Come along with us, Giralda. 
 
 [Exeunt Giralda and Bridesmaids , into Room, k. 
 Gil. [Soliloquising .] They all seem to have come to the 
 decision]that I am her husband. The girls of the village bring 
 her here, and insist upon leaving her alone with me — quite 
 alone. By-the-by, not quite — [Opening trap , and calling:] 
 
22 
 
 GIRALDA. 
 
 [act II. 
 
 — Antonio, you may go : I shall not want you any more 
 to-night ; and, Antonio, you need not come till pretty late 
 in the morning. As — [ Shuts the trap.] — late as you like, 
 Antonio. Instead of the click-clack of my mill, I hear my 
 heart beating pit-a-pat against my side — for mine is a 
 peculiar position just now — what's better still, I but hear — 
 [Shaking his purse.] — the musical jingle of six hundred 
 ducats. 
 
 Enter Don Manuel stealthily from the secret door , l. — 
 He blows out the candle : the Stage is darkened. 
 
 Gil. What the deuce has put out the candle ? — the wind ? 
 [ Hearing footsteps.] No ; that has wings, not feet. 
 [ Groping about.] Who goes there ? 
 
 Don M. [Seizing him.] ’Tis I ! 
 
 Gil. And who may * 1’ be ? 
 
 Don M. One who comes to claim his lawful wife. 
 
 Gil. The devil ! 
 
 Don M. [Seizing him by the hand.] Do you not know 
 me ? 
 
 Gil. Yes, i’faith ! I should know that voice a mile off : 
 it put me very much in mind of Beelzebub’s ! \ 
 
 Don M. Ah ! you may well tremble — you have broken 
 your word, sirrah ! 
 
 Gil . No, on my honour I Will that satisfy you? 
 
 Don M. Why are you here, then ? 
 
 Gil. I came with my wife. 
 
 Don M. Dare you ! 
 
 Gil. I mean our — that is — your wife ! 
 
 Don M. But you brought her here ? 
 
 Gil . In spite of myself, but only to keep your secret ; 
 and now I resign her. I am an honourable dealer : I have 
 the ducats, and you are entitled to the consideration ; — 
 but where have you been ail the while ? 
 
 Don M. Silence ! I’m here now, so you may go — no, 
 stop : I may want you. 
 
 Gil. That wasn’t in our bargain, though. 
 
 Don M. True. [Giving him a purse.] Here are fifty 
 more ducats. 
 
 Gil. Oh, most liberal sir 1 [Aside, as he puts the purse 
 in his pocket. J Egad! he must be somebody — [Pointing 
 down.] — or the Bank itself. [Aloud.] I shall be here below 
 [Pointing to trap , c.] and should you want me 
 
 Don M. [Impatiently .] Begone ! Stay ; — what noise 
 was that ? J 
 
SCENE I.] GIRALDA. 23 
 
 Gil. Oh, it’s only the young girls who accompanied my 
 —that is to say — your wife : they are going. 
 
 Don M. Remain a moment. 
 
 Re-enter Giralda, r. s. e. (who has taken off her wreath 
 
 and part of her bridal-dress ), accompanied by the 
 
 Bridesmaids . 
 
 Bridesmaids . Oh, how dark it is ! 
 
 Gir. [Alarmed.] Gil ! Gil ! 
 
 Don M. [To Gil.] Answer. 
 
 Gil. [Aloud.] Here I am. 
 
 Don M. [To Gil.] Tell them you can see better in the 
 dark. 
 
 Gil. I'm fond of the dark ; and as I’m master here, I 
 shall remain in the dark. 
 
 Bridesmaids. Oh, certainly, if you please ! Well, good 
 night ; — take care of our dear Giralda. 
 
 Gil. She’s in excellent hands — never fear. 
 
 [Exeunt Bridesmaids , r. c. 
 
 Don M. Good I They are gone at last. 
 
 [Shuts the trap , and gropes about till he slightly 
 touches Giralda . 
 
 Gir. [Aside.] How I tremble ! But courage ! [Aloud.] 
 Approach me not ; — [Drawing a poniard.] — come but one 
 step nearer, and this poniard will teach you that, if need be, 
 I will die ! 
 
 Don M. Oh, Heaven ! 
 
 Gir . [Firmly.] My heart is another’s! Him I have 
 vowed to love ; and, for him, I will protect my honour with 
 my life. 
 
 Don M. Beautiful Giralda ! listen 
 
 Gir. [Springing towards him.] Ah, that voice ! 
 
 Don M. Gil Peres is far from us : ’tis I, your lover, — 
 ’twas I who received your vows at the altar, — I am your 
 husband. 
 
 Gir. [Identifying the voice of her lover.] ’Tis he ! 
 
 Don M. Thy husband, dearest, by the most sacred ties ! 
 
 Gir. And my stupid heart never told me that I was 
 repulsing my preserver ! 
 
 Don M. Even so. 
 
 Gir. And it was from you I received the ring — you 
 whom I vowed to love ? 
 
 Don M. The same. 
 
 Gir. The hand of heaven has indeed been over me ! 
 
 Don M. And since heaven has ordained our union, 
 
24 
 
 GIRALDA. 
 
 [act IT. 
 
 nothing shall part ns. But, in case of danger, remember 
 this signal, by which we shall be able to recognize each 
 other. 
 
 Gir. What signal ? 
 
 Don M. Love and mystery. 
 
 Gir. [ Repeating .] Love and mystery ! 
 
 Don M. After which, a kiss. 
 
 Gir. A kiss ! 
 
 Don M. You’ll not forget ? 
 
 Gir. [Timidly.'] Oh, no ! it’s very, very easy! 
 
 Don M. Let me see if you recollect the lesson. 
 
 Gir . Love and mystery— — 
 
 Don. M. Good ; and the rest ? 
 
 Gir. [Looking towards the ground.] The rest is, I 
 think 
 
 Don M. Ah ! I must remind you. [Kisses her. 
 
 Gir. Enough — 1 shall not forget again. But there is 
 one important question 1 would like to ask : — pray, my 
 dear husband, who are you ? 
 
 Don M. If I tell you, you will perhaps blame me for 
 involving you in the risk 1 run ; for. were the Queen or the 
 Inquisition to know that I am married, it would be death — 
 certain death to us both. 
 
 Gir. I fear not to die, since I’m beloved by you! 
 
 Don M. Well, some day, — but if I find I cannot remove 
 the scruples of the Queen, we will secretly quit the king- 
 dom. Together, our kingdom would be anywhere. 
 
 Gir. Yes ; but there is something still : I should like 
 to see the face of my beloved lord and master, — I’m sure 
 you will not refuse me that. Why have you always con- 
 cealed your features ? 
 
 Don M. Hitherto from prudence, now from fear. Oh ! 
 Giralda, I fear I shall never realize the picture which your 
 generous heart may have pourtrayed ! 
 
 Gir. Your kind heart and your sweet voice have assisted 
 me in drawing your portrait here. [Placing her hand on her 
 heart.] I but want to compare it with the original. 
 
 Don M. And then, should you love me less ? 
 
 Gir. That is impossible ! [Looking into the Chamber , r.] 
 There are still a few embers ; — let me fetch a light. Shall 
 I, dear husband? Ah ! you do not answer — you consent. 
 
 [She feels for the door , and exit , r. 
 
 Don M. Sweet girl! who could help loving thee? 
 Hark, some one approaches. 
 
 [He retires up, l. 
 
SCENE I.] 
 
 GIR ALDA. 
 
 25 
 
 Enter the King, muffled in a cloak, through the window , 
 
 I,, c., followed by Don Japhet, who stumbles as he 
 
 crosses the sill . 
 
 The King. What was that ? 
 
 Don J. That infernal ladder, sire, has slipped down. 
 
 The King. Deuce take you I retreat will be now im- 
 possible. 
 
 Don M. [. Aside .] Ah ! the King ! 
 
 The King. [To Don Japhet.] Stay, and keep watch on 
 the balcony. 
 
 Don J. What 1 out of doors in this freezing'night ? 
 
 The King. The air is all the clearer for a little frost, — - 
 you will be better able to discover danger at a distance. 
 
 Don Japhet is getting out of window in pur- 
 suance of this command , the wind carries away 
 his hat. 
 
 Don J. There, the wind has taken my hat off. [ Sneezes .] 
 Only think, your Highness, 
 
 The King. Begone 1 here, take my cloak. 
 
 [Don Japhet disappears , sneezing . 
 
 The King. It strikes me I’ve managed matters very 
 cleverly — Don Japhet having been placed so that I could 
 not possibly escape without disturbing him, I have made 
 him an accomplice. I’ll be bound he’ll give the Queen a 
 very good account of me. Well ! I’m as full of devotion 
 as she is, only the objects are not precisely the same — 
 every one to his taste ; so, while she’s at her prayers, I’ll 
 endeavour to find the miller’s pretty wife. I wonder where 
 the door of her chamber is. [ Gropes about. 
 
 Don M. So, so ! that’s your purpose, is it ? even as I 
 expected l 
 
 The King. I’ve desired Don Japhet to adjust matters 
 with her husband, and practice has made him perfect in 
 these affairs. [Still groping about.] Ah 1 I think I feel 
 the wind — here must be the door. 
 
 Don M. [Watching him and gliding about to avoid a 
 collision.] Yes, it is the King 1 
 
 [The King goes through door , l. 
 
 Don M. [Rushing to the trap , which he opens.] Gil, 
 Gil, are you asleep ? 
 
 Gil. [Instantly thrusting his head up.] No, nor are you 
 either, seemingly. 
 
 Don M. Would you earn— not fifty ducats, but fifty 
 pistoles. 
 
 c 
 
26 GIRALDA. [ACT II. 
 
 Gil. I should rather think so, and the sooner the better. 
 
 Don M. Fly, then, this instant ! 
 
 Gil. But where am I to fly to ? 
 
 Don M. To the Chapel de Nova. — Tell the officers on 
 guard immediately to acquaint the Queen that the King is 
 here in this mill — that his life is in danger. — Away ! 
 
 GiL The King, and in danger ! — What does it all 
 mean ? 
 
 Don M. Would you have the pistoles ? [ Showing purse. 
 
 GiL I go. 
 
 Don M. There’s no telling what her Majesty may give 
 you. 
 
 GiL I’m gone. [ Disappears down trap . 
 
 The King. [Returning.'] That leads to the moat — I must 
 try the other side. 
 
 Don J. [Putting his head in at the window.] B-r-r ! 
 b-r-r ! Oh, I’m frozen — what would my dear wife — my 
 Rosina de Pontevedra, say, if she could feel my frozen 
 nose ! — B-r-r ! b-r-r ! tgw&gj&ft 
 
 The King. Fool, what are you doing there ? 
 
 Don J. Pardon, sire ! but is it really necessary that I 
 should remain longer out here ? 
 
 The King. Certainly ! 
 
 Don J. What, all night ? 
 
 The King. Probably. 
 
 Don J. Consider, sir, my years. 
 
 The King. Silence, — a good soldier never deserts his 
 post. 
 
 Don J. True, sire, and I am not 'likely to desert mine, 
 for I shall be frozen to it. [/Sneezes.] B-r-r ! b-r-r ! 
 
 [He shuts the window , but intending to return , he 
 softly opens it again immediately . 
 
 The King. Dolt, what imprudence would you commit, — 
 begone! [Apart.] Some one comes ! I’ve seen nothing 
 like the miller’s wife yet. [Looking off \ r.] As I live, 
 here she comes, though. Ah ! how beautiful she is. How 
 she glides, on tiptoe, with the lamp in her pretty little 
 hands. By Saint Jago, I must be prudent, or I shall ruin 
 all. [Withdraws a little , to let her pass. 
 
 Enter Giralda, cautiously , r., with the Lamp f which she 
 shades with her hand. 
 
 Gir. I’ve got it at last ; but the fire was every spark 
 out ; and I have so knocked ray poor fingers with that 
 flint and steel; — the more haste the worse speed, they 
 
GIRALDA. 
 
 SCEXIi I.] 
 
 27 
 
 say. [ Turning about.] But where are you, my dear 
 husband ? 
 
 [. During this time the King has crept noiselessly be- 
 hind Giralda, and seizing her right hand , makes 
 her drop the lamp , which is thus extinguished. 
 
 Gir. Oh ! how you did frighten me ! and there’s the 
 lamp upset — and I shan’t see you, after all — let me run and 
 light it again. 
 
 The King. What can she mean ? 
 
 Gir . [ Trying to disengage, herself.] Do let me go and 
 try again — will you ? 
 
 The King, [r., holding her hands.] Nay, love, — we don’t 
 want the light. 
 
 Gir. [c., starting from him.] Great heaven ! 
 
 The King. [Regaining her hand.] Why do you start ? 
 
 Gir. That’s not his voice — it’s not soft, nor sweet. 
 
 The King. I swear that 
 
 Gir. [Violently releasing herself .] No! no! you are 
 not my husband 1 
 
 The King. Yes ! really. 
 
 Gir. [Terrified.] No, no, no ! Approach me not. 
 
 Don M. [Aside, l.] Oh, what torture ! 
 
 The King. Believe me, I am your husband. 
 
 Gir. You ! [Aside, suddenly recollecting.] Ah ! I’ll 
 just try. [Coming close to him — aloud.] Well, if you are 
 my husband what’s the sign. 
 
 The King. [Embarrassed.] The sign ? 
 
 Gir. Yes[; you ought to know. 
 
 The King. [Still puzzled.] Certainly : but — I am your 
 husband — your master, — I may surely have a kiss. 
 
 Gir. No, no, that’s the end ; — what’s the beginning ? 
 
 The King. [Aside.] What shall I say ? [Aloud.] Why, 
 that I adore you. 
 
 Gir. Oh, no, that’s not it; and you’re not my husband. 
 
 [Retreating from him. 
 
 The King. [Groping furiously about the room.] It is 
 in vain you try to escape me, 
 
 Gir. [Avoiding him.] Oh, how I tremble ! 
 
 Don M. [l. c., apart to Giralda , taking her hand.] 
 Giralda, fear not, I am near thee. 
 
 Gir. Ah 1 that voice. 
 
 Don M . Love ! 
 
 Gir. Love 1 
 
 Don M. And mystery ! 
 
 Gir. And mystery ! ’Tis he — ’tis my husband. 
 
28 
 
 GIRALDA. 
 
 [act it. 
 
 Don M. What’s next ? 
 
 [ They embrace , and are heard by the King. 
 
 The King. What was that ? 
 
 Gir . [To the King.] You were right, my husband is here. 
 
 Don M. Hush ! 
 
 The King. Ah, happiness, what do I hear I [ Don Manuel 
 hisses Giralda.] Egad ! that sounded very like a kiss. 
 [Running against Giralda , and seizing both her hands.] 
 This time you shall not escape me. 
 
 Don M. [Aside.] What shall I do ? [Retires up. 
 
 Gir. [Struggling.] Unhand me, sir. 
 
 The King. [Hearing a noise, ivhich is occasioned by Gil 
 opening the trap.] It seems I must. — Who comes there ? 
 
 [.4s the King releases his hold, Don Manuel takes 
 Giralda'' s hand, and carefully conducts her out, l. 
 
 Enter Gil, up the trap-door, c. 
 
 Gil. [Out of breath.] It’s I — here I am. 
 
 The King. Who’s 4 1 ?’ 
 
 Gil. Why, Gil the miller, stupid ! 
 
 The King. [Aside.] So, so, the husband ! — that alters 
 the case. [Looking towards the window.] I shall imme- 
 diately beat a retreat. [/Is he crosses the Stage, Gil ascends 
 from the trap, and, in letting down the door, catches the 
 King f s toe in it slightly, so as to make him shout.] No, 
 that’s impossible ; for here’s the enemy. 
 
 Gil. How’s this ? you here still ? — Why, you ought to 
 be in bed with my wife — [Correcting himself.] — that is to 
 say, your wife. 
 
 The King. What do I hear ? [In an under-tone.] Why, 
 certainly, I am a married man. 
 
 Gil. Why dont you speak out, — you’re at home, you 
 know ; and so is your wife. 
 
 The King. [Aside.] Well, it’s all a mystery to me ; but 
 never mind. [Aloud.] Yes, I’m married, certainly, if that 
 mends my title to the damsel. 
 
 The King. Nobody doubts your title to what you have 
 so handsomely paid for. But now for the fifty pistoles. 
 
 The King. Before I give you fifty pistoles, I should like 
 to know what I am to have for them. 
 
 Gil. Didn’t you promise them to me for doing your 
 bidding, and haven’t I run myself out of breath ? I found 
 the chapel where the Queen was at prayers, and desired the 
 officer on guard to inform her that the King was here, in 
 my mill, and in danger. 
 
GIRALDA. 
 
 2g 
 
 SCENE I.] 
 
 The King. [ Aside .] The devil you did ! 
 
 Gil. I told them to come immediately. 
 
 The King. And, pray, who bade you tell them so ? 
 
 Gil. Why, you yourself, not an hour ago. 
 
 The King, i! [Aside.] * It’s clear there’s a third per- 
 son here ! but who it^is I have not time now to learn ; — 
 the Queen will be here, and „ 
 
 Gil. Come, my fifty pistoles. 
 
 The King. Nay, I'll make it a hundred if you’ll help me 
 to get quickly out of this place. 
 
 Gil. And your wife, too ? 
 
 The King. [In an agony.] No ; it is she whom I dread. 
 
 Gil. [Apart.] So, he’s soon tired of my — his wife, 
 then; — his voice, too, even seems changed since he promised 
 me the fifty pistoles. [Aloud.] Come, I’ll show you the path : 
 it leads to the chapel of Noya, and you’ll be sure to know 
 it by the Queen’s suite, which is now winding up the path. 
 
 The King. [Affrighted.] Is there no other way ? 
 
 Gil. There’s the river ; but you’ll have to swim it, for 
 the boat is leaky, and full of water. I’ll just go now and 
 see. [is going off \ but returns .] You’ll not forget the 
 hundred pistoles ? 
 
 The King . Away ! 
 
 Gil. [Aside.] I declare, he’s a regular gold mine. 
 
 [Goes hurriedly out , r. d. f. 
 
 Enter Eon Manuel from Room , l., unobserved by the 
 t . King . 
 
 The King. How unfortunate, to have to give up the 
 prize just at the most interesting moment I But who can 
 have betrayed me ? 
 
 Don J. [At the window.] Sire ! sire ! 
 
 The King, (c ) Ah, Don Japhet ! ’Twas he, no doubt. 
 
 Don J. [Having entered.] You are in danger ! 
 
 The King. Serve me right. 
 
 Don J. From the balcony I descried the cortege of the 
 Queen ; — it appears to be winding its way hither ; and, oh! 
 if her Majesty should find that we’ve quitted the farm, I 
 
 shall be lost, ruined ! and my poor Rosina 
 
 [Looking from the window. 
 
 The King. He dissembles well — he who has 
 
 betrayed me. [Aloud.] I know not how to get out of this 
 place ; J and if Gil Peres does not return. 
 
 Don M. [Who has crept softly to the side of the King.] 
 Trust to me, sire. 
 
 C 3 
 
30 
 
 GIRALDA. 
 
 [act II. 
 
 The King, (c.) Who art thou? 
 
 Don M What matter, so I save you, — come ! 
 
 The King. [Following.] Ah ! how can I repay you ? 
 
 Don M. I will accept of nothing. 
 
 The King. [Giving him the riband off his neck.] Take 
 this, and should you at a future time s require any favour 
 at my hands, it shall be granted freely — thankfully. 
 
 [Exit through small secret door , l. followed by Don Manuel. 
 
 Enter Don Japhet at window , c., groping about . 
 
 Don J , Sire, sire, what will you do ? where are you ? 
 
 Re-enter Gil Peres, r. d. f. 
 
 Gil. [Meeting Don Japhet.] No escape, by land or by 
 water : the Queen has just gained the top of the hill, 
 and the boat’s swamped. 
 
 Don J. Which way shall I fly ? where conceal myself? 
 
 Gil. Why — there, in your wife’s chamber, to be sure. 
 
 Don J. [Astonished.] My wife, did he say ? My wife 
 in this mill ; and the King 1 Ah ! I see it all. Where is 
 the chamber ? where is she ? Oh ! Rosina. 
 
 Gil. [Guiding him.] Here — this way. 
 
 Don J. [Aside, while being led off. ] Marvels will never 
 cease ! My wife ! 
 
 [Gil, after much trouble, succeeds in getting him into 
 the Room , r., where he supposes Giralda to be. 
 
 Gil. [Returning to front.] His voice has changed again 
 within the last half hour ! but I suppose Giralda will re- 
 cognise it. [The Suite of the Queen is heard in the dis- 
 tance, at which Giralda rushes out of the Room, l.] How ! 
 why are you not in the other room, with your husband ? 
 
 Gir. Mv husband ! where is he ? 
 
 Gil. Why, where should he be, but in your chamber ? 
 
 Gir. Thank heaven ! 
 
 Enter the Queen, accompanied by her Equerries — Don 
 
 Manuel as one of the Queen's Suite ; Pages , Maids of 
 
 Honour ; and Villagers , with lighted torches , r. d. f. 
 
 The Queen. I ask pardon, my good people, for thus in- 
 truding on the night of your nuptials ; but having been 
 informed that the King is in danger here, we would pro- 
 tect him. 
 
 Gir. There must be some mistake ; I’ve neither seen nor 
 heard of 
 
 The Queen. No matter. [Turning to the Equerries.] 
 Gentlemen, let the entire mill be searched. [Attendants 
 
GIRALDA. 
 
 31 
 
 SCENE /,] 
 
 go in different directions ; the Queen comes forward , c.] I 
 tremble lest they should find him, and prove him faithless. 
 
 Attendants. [Returning .] There is no one here ; — we 
 have searched in every part. 
 
 The Queen. No ? [ Seeing Room , r,] That room has not 
 been searched. Let it be instantly examined. 
 
 Gir. [. Embarrassed , and placing herself before the door.] 
 No, no, no : that’s my chamber. 
 
 The Queen. And why should you object ? Never mind — 
 open it. 
 
 Gir , I conjure you, do not insist ! 
 
 The Queen. I have particular reasons for insisting, and 
 my orders shall be obeyed. 
 
 Gir. [Again rushing to the door.'] Mercy ! 
 
 Enter the King, at the principal entrance , r. d . f. 
 
 The King. What’s all this ? 
 
 All. The King ! 
 
 The Queen, (c.) Can I believe my eyes ? What a relief ! 
 
 The King. (r. c.) While sleeping quietly at yonder farm, 
 
 I was suddenly aroused by the sounds of a departure. On 
 looking out, I perceived your Majesty’s litter, and, fearing 
 for your safety, I followed with all speed, i 
 
 The Queen. Is it possible ? They told me you were 
 here, and in danger. 
 
 The King. Who could have devised such a falsehood ? 
 
 Off. [Pointing to Gil.] This man. 
 
 The Queen. He ? 
 
 Gil. Yes, madam ; I took the message. 
 
 The King. And pray who gave you the message to take? 
 
 Gil. Who gave it me ? Why, my wife’s husband 1 
 
 All. His wife’s husband ! 
 
 The Queen. Why, the fellow’s a fool ! 
 
 The King. [Aside.] The murder’s coming out. [To 
 the Queen.] Allow me to sift this matter. 
 
 The Queen . [ Persisting .] But your wife’s husband must 
 be yourself. 
 
 Gil . [l., much embarrassed.] Yes, at first it would 
 appear so — that is, it was to have been — but some one has 
 taken my place— -I resigned. 
 
 The King . [Aside.] ’Twas the other I met, then. 
 
 The Queen. Did you give up your wife for gold or from 
 threats ? 
 
 Git. Both. 
 
 The Qpeen. And where is this substitute husband, pray ? 
 
32 
 
 GIRALDA. 
 
 [act II, 
 
 Gil. [ Pointing .] There, in my — his wife’s room. 
 
 The King. [ Turning to Giralda .] Your room ? 
 
 Gir. Yes, sire! 
 
 The King . And who is he ? 
 
 Gir. [. Despairingly .] I don’t know — I have never seen him. 
 
 The Queen. That’s more strange still. 
 
 Gir. I only know that, by his marriage with me, he has 
 run the risk of offending your Majesties. Oh, pardon 
 him, I implore you 1 let him not suffer through me ! 
 
 The Queen. We will be merciful ; but we must see him. 
 
 The King. Yes, we would see him. 
 
 [The door is thrown open , and DonJaphet appears. 
 
 All. How! DonJaphet! 
 
 [ Giralda utters a cry of despair , on seeing him , 
 and would fall , but for the support of those 
 about her. Don Manuel leads her to a seat 
 behind the Queen and Courtiers. 
 
 The Queen. [. Astonished and enraged .] How is it we 
 find our chamberlain in such a place — and married, too? * 
 
 Don J. Oh, your Majesty, pardon ! 
 
 The King. Ay — and secretly. 
 
 Don J. [Aside.] He knows all. [Alou d, to the Queen.] 
 Will your Majesty deign to listen ? 
 
 The Queen. You confess, then ? 
 
 Don J. [Hesitating, and looking at the King.] Well — yes. 
 
 The King. [Aside.] Ah! this is fortunate; — he has 
 really married her, has he ? 
 
 Don J . [r., aside, eyeing the King.] I know by his looks, 
 I’m lost. Oh, Rosina ! 
 
 The Queen. Chance has introduced us to your wife. 
 [Pointing to Giralda , who has recovered , and has come 
 forward.] Here she is. 
 
 Don J. [Aside, on seeing Giralda.] I’m saved. [To the 
 King ] Yes, sire, that is she. [To the Queen.] Yes, 
 madam. [Aside, looking at Giralda.] She’s my guardian 
 angel, at any rate, if she’s not my wife. 
 
 The Queen. [Aside.] Better this handsome peasant be 
 Don Japhet’s wife than the King’s inamorata ! 
 
 Gir. [Horrified.] Oh, wretched Giralda ! To be linked 
 to such a husband is worse than death. Heaven grant me 
 strength ! 
 
 Gil . Well, if it wasn’t for his money, Giralda had better 
 have had me ; she would have had a tolerably good-looking 
 husband then ; — [Self- complacently exhibiting his person.] 
 but he 
 
 '■i-V 
 
SCENE I.] GIRALDA. 33 
 
 The King. [Aside to Don Japhet.] You have my par- 
 don, and I’ll not forget your wife. [Don Japhet starts . 
 
 The Queen. Yes, we pardon you, and you will conduct 
 your wife to some place more befitting her station. 
 
 Don J. [Bowing assent. — Aside.'] My wife 1 
 
 Don M. [To Don Japhet.] What do I hear ! 
 
 Don J. I do but obey her Majesty’s orders. 
 
 Gil. [Looking intently at Don Japhet .] It’s very 
 strange, but his voice is altered again ! I wonder what it 
 will be like when I go to him for my hundred pistoles to- 
 morrow. 
 
 Don J. [Aside, and looking at Giralda.] I’ve got a 
 pretty little wife, sure enough ; but confound me if I can 
 fathom the mystery that has made her mine. 
 
 The Queen. [To her Suite.] I would return, gentlemen— 
 [Aside] — with a heart much lighter than when I came. 
 Oh. jealousy ! 
 
 Don J. This time, at any rate, I may thank the King 
 for my escape. 
 
 Don M. ’Tis well. 
 
 [At a sign from the Queen , Don Japhet offers his 
 arm to Giralda , who reluctantly accepts it. 
 The King does the like to the Queen , and head- 
 ing the cortege , exeunt , r. d. f. Don Manuel , 
 
 stealthily follows Don Japhet and Giralda , r.d.f. 
 
 END OF ACT II. 
 
 ACT III. 
 
 SCENE I . — A grand Saloon in the Queen’s Palace at 
 Saint Jago de Compostello. A grand Arch , opening 
 on to a Gallery , the steps from which lead to the Gar- 
 den, whence the Suite is seen to arrive. — On the left is 
 the Queen's Oratory. — On either side of the Saloon , 
 are couches , chairs , and tables on which are small golden 
 hand-bells. 
 
 Giralda discovered , seated near the table , l. 
 
 Gir. All here is mystery ! Oh, would that I were once 
 more amongst my humble village companions ! 
 
34 
 
 GIRAI.DA, 
 
 [act III. 
 
 Enter the Queen, Don Manuel, and two Maids of Ho- 
 nour, c. from l., with whom the Queen speaks apart . 
 
 The Queen. Giralda, y ou will await me in the oratory : 
 I have something to say to Don Manuel. 
 
 [Maids of Honour and Giralda retire , l. u. e. 
 
 Don M. [Apart.] Does she suspect ? 
 
 The Queen . (r.c.) [In an air of authority .] Don Manuel, 
 you are aware that, for state reasons, you were condemned 
 from your infancy, as belonging to a family who had dared 
 to aspire to the throne of Spain, and you were only spared 
 at my intercession, and a pledge on my part, that you 
 should be the last of your race ; and, to that end, that 
 you should take holy orders. The time for the fulfilment 
 of this compact has now arrived, and. an opportunity has 
 occurred which enables me to confer on you one of the 
 highest dignities of our most holy church. 
 
 Don M. [Astonished and affrighted.] Oh, madam, I 
 do not deserve 
 
 The Queen. Nay, you will, I am sure, do honour to 
 your patroness. The recent death of the Grand Master 
 of the Order of Santiago enables me to appoint you to 
 that office : to-morrow you shall be installed. 
 
 Don M. I — I fear, madam — [Aside.] — What the devil 
 shall I say? [Aloud.] I fear B I am too worldly-minded 
 to 
 
 The Queen. Nay, no more. And now 1 have something 
 to say concerning myself. 
 
 Don M. Your Majesty does me great honour. 
 
 The Queen. Know, Don Manuel, that Don Japhet’s 
 secret marriage to a farmer’s niece has much disconcerted 
 me. I had hoped that no one of our court was capable of 
 so sullying the Spanish blood. 
 
 Don M. Giralda, madam, is the daughter of a noble 
 hidalgo, although ruined and proscribed ; and 
 
 The. Queen. You seem to know her history marvellously 
 well, Manuel ! 
 
 Don M. I only meant to say that her virtues — her 
 
 The Queen. [Interrupting.] Again so warm in her 
 praise. But no matter — I shall object to her admission to 
 court. 
 
 Don M. Upon what ground, may I inquire ? 
 
 The Queen. One that I dare only mention to yourself. 
 1 observe that Don Philip pays her particular attention. A 
 
 Don M. Indeed ! if so, that alters the case, entirely. 
 
GIRALDA. 
 
 35 
 
 SCENE!.] 
 
 The Queen. You think so ? 
 
 Don M. I do, most certainly. 
 
 * The Queen. You, Manuel, I know, can feel forme. The 
 occurrences of yesterday at the mill, have, I confess, made 
 me very uneasy.: it is not quite clear to me that the King had 
 so little connexion with them as he would have me believe. 
 
 Don M. Indeed ! 
 
 Enter Don Japhet and Gil, in altercation, from the 
 
 Garden, c. Simultaneously, the King enters , preceeded 
 
 by two Pages , from the Apartment, l. 
 
 Gil. But I will come in, and I will have the hundred 
 pistoles. 
 
 Don J. [Aside to Gil.] Silence, sirrah ! Do you not see 
 that you are intruding on_their Majesties ? 
 
 Gil . So much the better : Kings and Queens would 
 more generally do justice if people would oftener give them 
 the opportunity. 
 
 The Queen . [ Observing the altercation .] What’s the 
 matter, my good man ? 
 
 Don J. [Endeavouring to push Gil off.] You cannot be 
 admitted to an audience with the Queen in that dress. 
 
 The Queen. Let him approach, — I will hear what he has 
 to say. : • 
 
 Don J." 2 [In alarm.] But, first, I would speak with your 
 Majesty — may it please your Majesty — your most gracious 
 Majesty 
 
 The Queen. Tush, man ! — Let the miller approach ! 
 
 [ The Queen seats herself with great formality , r.c., 
 and motions Gil to begin. 
 
 Gil. [. Advancing , l.c.] I just wish to tell your Majesty, in 
 as few words as possible, that I verily believe I’ve had 
 dealings with the devil. He has appeared to me in three 
 different forms. In the first instance, I agreed to sell him 
 my wife, and my name, and to let him my mill to pass the 
 honeymoon in. At that time he appeared as a gentleman, 
 soft spoken and agreeable. 
 
 Don M. [Aside, r ] He must not hear my voice ! 
 
 Gil. The next time he appeared, he rushed suddenly on 
 me, and seizing me by the arm, * Save me,’ he cried, in 
 a voice that I^cannot describe, but that I should know again 
 anywhere ! 
 
 The King. [Aside, l.] I must be dumb ! 
 
 Gil. On his third appearance, it was in the form of this 
 gentleman — [Pointing to Don Japhet.] — but, on my de- 
 
GIRALDA. 
 
 36 
 
 [act IIK 
 
 manding the hundred pistoles he promised to pay me, he 
 denies the debt in toto, and in a totally different voice, too. 
 
 The Queen. [Looking searchingly into the King's face.] 
 This is a very singular tale 1 Don’t you think so, sire ? 
 
 The King, [Aside.] Heavens! what shall I do ? [To 
 the Queen , with a shrug of his shoulders .] Hum-m-m. 
 
 The Queen. [Turning to Don Manuel .] Come, you shall 
 decide. Do you believe this man’s story ? 
 
 Don M. [Endeavouring to express doubt without speak- 
 ing .] Hum-m-m. 
 
 The Queen. You think Don Japhet owes him the money ? 
 
 Don M. (r.) Oh-h 
 
 The Queen. [Impatiently .] I must decide, I see ; but is 
 the affair of so much import, that neither will venture an 
 opinion ? Well, we will take means to arrive at the truth. 
 [To the King.] Your Majesty will please to give an order 
 for this man’s arrest. 
 
 The King, [l., confused , crossing to Don Manuel , speaks 
 in a whisper .] Don Manuel, 1 depute you to give the 
 order for the man’s arrest. 
 
 Don M. [Replying in a whisper.] Oh ! I could not pre- 
 sume to give orders while your Majesty is present. 
 
 The Queen. I see ; you hesitate. 
 
 The King . [In an under -tone to the Queen.] Would it 
 not be well that he should be further examined before I 
 give the order ? He may confess. [Aside.] As he knows 
 nothing, there’s no fear of his telling too much. 
 
 Don M. [While the King is speaking to the Queen , slips 
 a purse into Gil's hand.] Take that — be dumb, or tremble 1 
 
 Git. [Taking the purse , and trembling as he recognises 
 the voice.] Never fear — gold work’s wonders l 
 
 The King. [As he turns from the Queen to Gil.] A 
 hundred pistoles, did you say ? Here they are ; but silence, 
 or you shall be hanged. 
 
 Gil. [Looking all astonishment , with a purse in each 
 hand.] Well, our California’s nothingto the California below. 
 
 [First pointing below , and then raising the purses to 
 his nose to try whether he can distinguish any 
 sulphureous smell. 
 
 The Queen. [After a pause.] Right ! we will question 
 him. [To Gil.] Come here, and answer me. Are you 
 sure you have been speaking the truth ? 
 
 Gil. [r. c., looking first at the Queen, then at Don 
 Manuel.] He 1 he ! he ! 
 
 The Queen. Do you mock me, sirrah ? 
 
SCENE I.] GIRALDA. 37 
 
 Enter a Page , who announces that her Majesty's toilet is 
 prepared . 
 
 The Queen . [ Impatiently .] Yes ; and Giralda awaits 
 
 me in the Oratory, while I’m wasting my time on a fellow 
 who doesn't choose to speak what he must know. 
 
 The King. [. Persuasively .] But etiquette requires that— 
 
 The Queen. [Ironically.] You are not always so par- 
 ticular, sire, about the requirements of etiquette ! [To Don 
 Manuel.] Don Manuel, you will take charge of this man ; 
 — I will see him and Giralda anon. [To the King.] You, 
 sire, will accompany me ? 
 
 The King. [Kissing the Queen's hand as she goes out.] 
 Madam, I’ll follow. 
 
 [Don Manuel and Gil go out, r. u. e. The Queen 
 and Maids of Honour, l. u. e. 
 
 The King. [To DonJaphet , who is going.] A word with 
 you, Don Japhet, about the affairs of yesterday — I com- 
 prehend them all. 
 
 Don J. Your Majesty is peculiarly fortunate, then. 
 
 The King. I was not aware, when we went to the mill, 
 that the miller’s wife was your wife. Your mode of revenge 
 was natural enough in sending for the Queen, that she 
 might catch me there. 
 
 Don J. I, sire— I swear ! 
 
 The King. There’s no occasion — I forgive you — all’s fair 
 in love and war, you know. But I cheerfully give up the 
 pursuit, in favour of one for whom I have a much more 
 decided penchant — Rosina de Pontevedra, one of the maids 
 of honour ! 
 
 Don J. [Aghast.] Oh 1 I shall faint. [Aloud, affecting 
 to laugh.] Oh, indeed l 
 
 The King. Yes : and I think it bids fair to be a much 
 less fatiguing conquest. 
 
 Don J. But, sire, that lady is said to be so very rigid — 
 so very virtuous 
 
 The King . [Laughing and shrugging his shoulders.] 
 Not so very. 
 
 Don J. Oh, your Majesty must be mistaken. 
 
 The King. Oh, no, no : there is but one difficulty that 
 I experience — she is kept so constantly in waiting on her 
 Majesty. So I’ve written this note, without name or ad- 
 dress — 
 
 Don J. But think what a risk your Majesty will run in 
 delivering it to her. 
 
 D 
 
3S GIRALDA. [aCT II! 
 
 The King . My delivering it to her is impossible ; there- 
 fore you shall do it, Don Japhet. 
 
 Don J. [With suppressed indignation .] Was ever such 
 an office deputed in such a way, I wonder ! [Aloud.] Well, 
 if I must. 
 
 The King. You can slip it into her hand as she goes to 
 matins. 
 
 Don J. [Aside.] What an honour ! 
 
 The King. Here, take it — quickly ! The Queen ap- 
 proaches. 
 
 Enter the Queen, hurriedly , l. u. e. 
 
 The Queen . [In great anger.] This scandal is not to be 
 borne, — in my court, too, so celebrated for its purity ! 
 
 The King. What is it thus agitates your Majesty ? 
 What can have occurred to justify so much anger ? 
 
 The Queen. Judge, sire. — While I was recounting to 
 my ladies in waiting the extraordinary marriage of Don 
 Japhet D’Atocha with the niece of a farmer, one of the 
 maids of honour, turning deadly pale — pale as Don Japhet 
 is now — fell fainting from her seat. It was Rosina de 
 Pontevedra 1 
 
 Don J. [Aside.] My wife ! I knew there would be an 
 explosion — it was only a question of time when it would 
 take place. 
 
 The Queen . When she had somewhat recovered, she 
 threw herself at my feet, prayed for justice at my hands, 
 and confessed that, three months since, she had been se- 
 cretly married to Don Japhet. 
 
 The King. It is for another of his wives, then, 
 
 that I have given him the letter ! 
 
 The Queen. Is it not disgraceful ? 
 
 The King. [To Don Japhet .] Allow me to wish you joy 
 of your double nuptials. 
 
 The Queen. Philip, it is no jesting matter ; — bigamy, 
 and in my very palace ! 
 
 Don J. [Rushing imploringly to the Queen.] Indeed I 
 am not guilty — deign to listen ! 
 
 The Queen. I will listen to nothing ; — such crimes are 
 not to be endured. — [Rings a bell which is on the table, 
 at the sound of which Don Manuel and Courtiers enter i 
 r. u. e.] — Don Manuel, Grand Master of Santiago, the 
 Duke d’Atocha is your prisoner. I charge you to hand 
 him over to the office of the Holy Inquisition. 
 
 Don J. [In despair.] No one will listen to me ; and I 
 
SCENE I.] Gift ALDA. 39 
 
 shall be burned alive fora crime I have never even dreamed 
 cf ! 
 
 The Queen . Do you dare to deny it ? 
 
 Don J. [ Much excited.] Certainly ! most decidedly ! and 
 the truth of my assertion can be proved. What I s y to 
 your Majesty I will attest before all the world. I confess 
 I was secretly married to Rosina de Ponte vedra — she is my 
 "wife, my only wife ; but I deny that I was ever married to 
 Giralda, the miller’s wife, — Never ! never ! 
 
 The Queen. Then how did you become so intimate with 
 her ? 
 
 The King. You were found in her chamber 1 
 1 The Queen. You brought her but now to the palacel 
 
 Don J. [To the King.] No, sire! [To the Queen.] No, 
 your Majesty 1 Appearances are, I confess, against me ; 
 but I am no more her husband than his Majesty is ; and, 
 if Giralda were here 
 
 The Queen. She is here ! ‘ ; 
 
 Don J. How ? 
 
 The Queen. [Pointing to the door of the Oratory . j 
 There, in the oratory. 
 
 f [At a sign from the Queen, the Pages go for Giralda. 
 
 Don J. I’m glad of it ; for she can prove that, if I have 
 a wife, it is not she. — I’ve only one, I’ll swear to that ! 
 
 Enter Giralda, l.u.e, looking alarmed. — The King meets 
 her, and brings her before the Queen. 
 
 The Queen. [Kindly.] Come hither : I wish to hear from 
 yourself everything that passed from the time of our meeting 
 last evening. — How came you here? 
 
 Gir. As your Majesty commanded. 
 
 The Queen. Did you not enter a carriage with the Duke 
 d’Atocha last evening ? 
 
 Gir. I did, your Majesty. 
 
 Don J. [Interposing .] Yes : but the carriage had not 
 proceeded many yards through the Sycamore Grove when it 
 was stopped by a band of armed ruffians — fifty, at the least. 
 
 The Queen . Is that true, Giralda ? 
 
 Gir. [Curtsying.] There might have been fifty, your 
 Majesty, but I saw only one ! 
 
 Don J. Pardon me, the fright must have impaired your 
 eyesight. One of the band of ruffians shouted— 4 Giralda, 
 Don Japhet is an impostor! he is not your husband!’ 
 while another, placing a poniard to my throat, exclaimed — 
 4 Your wife or your life P 
 
40 
 
 GIRALDA. 
 
 [act III. 
 
 All. Well ? 
 
 Don J . Oh, T chose my life, of course ! I was seized, 
 rudely hurled from the carriage, and left in the middle of 
 the wood, whence I have had to come hither on foot, — 
 while the brigand rode off, tete-a-t&te with Giralda ; — and 
 that’s all I know. 
 
 The Queen. [To Giralda. ] Has he spoken the truth? 
 
 Gir. Yes, madam ; but he has not told you how this 
 terrible unknown soothed my fears, and with his sweet 
 voice promised to place me in the Queen's palace, where I 
 should be safe and happy. Having faithfully performed 
 his promise, he pressed me to his bosom, and vanished as 
 we entered the palace gates. I trembled violently, for my 
 heart told me that he was indeed my husband ! 
 
 The King. [To the Courtiers.'] There's something re- 
 markably mysterious in this affair, gentlemen. 
 
 Gir. [Starting.) Ah! that voice ! 
 
 The Queen. What alarms you ? 
 
 Gir . Pardon, your Majesty : that voice reminded me of 
 one I heard for a few minutes yesterday. 
 
 The Queen. [Anxiously.) Which — whose voice ? 
 
 Gir . [ Hesitating , on observing the Queen's anxiety.) I 
 don’t know — perhaps — I dare say I am mistaken. 
 
 Don M. Most likely ! 
 
 Gir . [With redoubled emotion.) Heavens, that voice! 
 
 The Queen. [ Turning to Courtiers.) Oh! it’s too ridi- 
 culous ; every body’s voice seems to electrify her. 
 
 Gir. Ah ! forgive me — I own it is weak. 
 
 [Keeping her eye steadily fixed on Don Manuel. 
 
 The Queen. [To Don Japhet.) The more I think of the 
 scene of yesterday, the more I am persuaded all was not 
 right. You must go with me to-day to the mill : the matter 
 shall be cleared up. 
 
 Don J. [Aside.) And leave my wife with the King ; — 
 no, never ! [The Queeti takes her seat at the table, l., 
 surrounded by Courtiers — the King and some of 
 the Gentlemen of the Court play at chess at the 
 table , R., during which Don Manuel goes up to 
 Giralda, who is standing in the centre of the 
 stage , absorbed in grief. 
 
 Don M. [To Giralda.) Why do you suppose that the 
 bandit and the person who rescued you in the forest are 
 the same person ? 
 
 Gir . [Aside.) Ah! if my heart tells me truly ! [Aloud.) 
 Pa! don, sir, but [Looking scrutinizing ly in his face. 
 
G1RALDA. 
 
 41 
 
 SCENE I.] 
 
 Don M. [Drawing himself up.] Well, senora ? 
 
 Gir. [Looking affectionately at him ] Yes, ’tis surely 
 be! [Timidly.] Let me ask you a little question — of 
 course with ait respect — if you are sure — if you are not — 
 
 Don M. I do not understand ! 
 
 Gir. [Still watching the expression of his face.] Ah, 
 true 1 I must give you the sign before you can under- 
 stand : a word — no, I had forgotten, two — that I heard 
 pronounced yesterday, which will, perhaps, explain. — 
 [Raising her mouth close to his ear.] Love — and — mystery ! 
 [Looking anxiously in his face] He neither starts, nor 
 moves a muscle 1 
 
 Don M. [Aside] The Queen’s observing me 1 [Coldly.] 
 Well, madam, what next ? 
 
 Gir. [ Sorroivfully .] What next ! Ah 1 I dare not tell 
 him the rest. 
 
 Enter Servant , l . } from the Oratory. 
 
 Serv. The Cardinal awaits your Majesty in the oratory. 
 
 [Exit, R. U. E. 
 
 The Queen. The cardinal! ’Tis heaven invites! f To 
 the Gentlemen in waiting .] My lords, I shall no longer 
 require your attendance. [To Giralda.] You may re- 
 main. [Exeunt Gentlemen in waiting , r. 
 
 The King . I will await your Majesty here. 
 
 The Queen. Indeed! [Aside .] So, he’ll remain ; — he 
 avows this fearlessly. [Apart to Don Manuel.] Don Ma- 
 nuel, while I am engaged with the Cardinal, I command you 
 not to quit Giralda for one moment. And should she need 
 protection— you understand ? 
 
 Don M. Your Majesty may depend on me — [Aside] — 
 that is, for my own sake! 
 
 The Queen. Don Japhet, my missal. 
 
 Don J. [Aside.] A good thought ! Now to be revenged 
 on the King. [Taking the book from the table , he slips the 
 note which the King has given him , between the 
 leaves , and hands it to the Queen. 
 
 The Queen. [To Don Manuel.] At three, you will at- 
 tend me in the cathedral. 
 
 Don J. [Aside.] And I will go and console my poor 
 little Rosina. [Exeunt the Queen , l.u.e., Don Japhet, r.u.e. 
 
 The King. [To Don Manuel.] This is a very romantic 
 affair — this missing husband. 
 
 Don M. It is, sire. [Apart.] Not quite so far away, 
 though, as you could wish. 
 
42 giralda. [act iii. 
 
 The King. An anonymous husband leaves a beautiful 
 wife wholly unprotected — it’s very wrong ! 
 
 Don M. Yes — very wrong ! 
 
 The King. It’s extremely wrong. Our royal duty it shall 
 be to console her in his absence. 
 
 Don M. Yours, sire ! 
 
 The King. [ Looking at Giralda.'] Yes : I would not 
 let slip this auspicious moment. If you love me, Don 
 Manuel, depart I 
 
 Don M. [ Shaking his head.] Impossible. 
 
 The King. How ? 
 
 Don M.fln an under -tone.] I have received the Queen’s 
 orders to remain. 
 
 The King. I understand ! [Pointing to the table.] But 
 you can sit down there : you can contrive, [perhaps, to read, 
 or sleep. [Seats Don Manuel at table , l. During the fol- 
 lowing , Giralda keeps her eyes constantly fixed on 
 Don Manuel. 
 
 The King. [Passionately taking her hand , and passing 
 his arm round her waist.] At length, then, I may press 
 you to my ionging heart ; at length I may feel the sweet 
 breath that — [Giralda struggles.] Surely you will not 
 refuse ! Has not the husband, who should protect, de- 
 s rted you ? Spurn not, then, the love that is burning 
 for you here 
 
 Gir. [Aside.] How he’s suffering ! — It must be he ! 
 
 Don M. [Aside.] Scarcely can I restrain myself ! 
 
 Gir . [Aside.] Ah 1 his misery is now my happiness ! 
 
 Don M. [Aside.] I cannot but listen — be still, my 
 heart ! 
 
 Gir. [Aside.] Ah! he’s listening — he trembles ! 
 
 The King. Why should you preserve your constancy for 
 one who values it not? 
 
 Gir. [ Watching Don Manuel.] He rises ! 
 
 The King. [Holding Giralda’ s hands.] Come — I’m 
 sure you will no longer refuse. — Nay, I will. [Struggling. 
 
 Gir. Ah, he comes ! ’tis he, ’tis he! 
 
 [^4a‘ the King and Giralda are struggling , Don 
 Manuel draws his poniard , and , quietly passing it 
 between the two , separates them , at the moment 
 that an Officer of the Inquistion enters from the 
 Oratory , l . — all three stand motionless. 
 
 The King. [Attributing Don Manuel’s interference to 
 his having observed the approach of the Officer.] Thanks, 
 thanks ’twas a narrow escape. 
 
GIRALDA. 
 
 43 
 
 SCENE I.] 
 
 Officer. Sire, I would speak with you. 
 
 The King, [Apart.] An officer of the inquisition 1 what 
 can he have to say to me ? 
 
 Officer, [. Aside .] A billet-doux of your Majesty's has 
 been found in the Queen's missal 1 
 
 The King. [Apart, and confused .] Then Don Japhet 
 has betrayed me. [To Giralda.] Excuse me for a moment, 
 senora — I will return. [ Aside.] At this moment, too, 
 how annoying ! [To Don Manuel.'] Play my part for me 
 during my absence. Keep up the — you understand. 
 [Apart.] Don Japhet, Don Japhet, this is a fine way of 
 keeping a secret ! 
 
 [. Exit , l. u. e., followed by Officer of the Inquisition. 
 
 Don M. [To Giralda , in a passion . ] Oh! thou most 
 perfidious one ! 'Tis thus you repay the love of an adoring, 
 faithful husband ? 
 
 Gir. [Apart, delighted.] Jealous, jealous ! 
 
 Don M. The attention of the King seemed wonderfully 
 acceptable. 
 
 Gir. Who would not be proud of being loved by a prince. 
 
 Don M. Do you confess, then ? 
 
 Gir. [In a very marked manner.] That I love one who 
 is of noble birth, but who loves me not in return, or he 
 would not desert me. 
 
 Don M. Ah ! you know me — I'm sure you know me. 
 
 Gir. [Drawing herself up.] How should I know you ? 
 
 Don M. [Drawing close to her side , and whispering in 
 her ear. J By the sign- — you have not forgotten — love — and 
 —mystery ! 
 
 Gir. [Mimicking the sangfroid of Don Manuel in the 
 previous scene.] Well, what next? 
 
 Don M. Oh ! I see. Then, I dare not yield to my 
 feelings ; now I may perfect the sign. 
 
 [Kisses her passionately. 
 
 Gir. You are indeed my husband ! [Clasps him tenderly , 
 and raising her eyes.] Heaven, grant that this may not 
 be a dream I 
 
 Don M . No, dearest, you are mine for ever — let this 
 bear witness. [Fervently kissing her forehead.] My dearest 
 wife 1 
 
 Enter the King, suddenly , r. 
 
 The King. What do I see ! —You, the Grand Master of 
 the Most Holy Order of Santiago, this is keeping up the — 
 with a vengeance. 
 
44 
 
 GIRALDA. 
 
 [act m. 
 
 j Don M. I have kept it up, your Majesty, but on my own 
 account : Giralda is my wife — I am her invisible husband. 
 
 The King. [Laughing.] You her husband ! Decidedly 
 this is not one of my lucky days ! This is the second time I 
 have set a gentleman to make love for me to his own wife ! 
 
 Don M. Nothing now remains but to procure the pardon 
 of the Queen. May I hope that this riband will induce 
 your Majesty to plead for me ? [Showing the riband.] 
 
 He from whom I received it, promised to 
 
 The King. No more : He who made the promise will 
 assuredly keep it ! All he will ask in return will be one kiss 
 from your sweet bride, whose pardon he would also ask. 
 
 [He takes the hands of Giralda and Don Manuel , 
 and , having joined them, with mock solemnity , 
 kisses Giralda on the forehead ; at that moment — 
 
 Enter the Queen, l. 
 
 The Queen. Don Philip ! 
 
 The King. 
 
 Gir. 
 
 Don M. 
 
 The Queen. What treason’s this ? Sanctioned, too, by Don 
 Manuel ! This explains why the King wished to remain. 
 
 The King. [Pointing to Giralda and Don Manuel , who 
 have joined their hands.] To protect two unfortunate 
 lovers — nothing more, I assure you. 
 
 The Queen. [2o Don Manuel.] At the very moment the 
 church is waiting to receive your vows ? 
 
 The King. For his fair bride, however, he will decline 
 the vows and their empty honours. 
 
 The Queen, ’Tis false ! [To Don Manuel.] How have 
 you dared to contravene my commands, at the moment J 
 had destined you for high ecclesiastical distinction ? 
 
 The King. Consider, madam, the lovers are devotedly 
 attached — are now man and wife. Dreading your anger, 
 they have appealed to me. and I have promised to crave 
 your Majesty’s forgiveness for them. 
 
 The Queen. [Looking spitefully at Giralda , and addres- 
 sing the King.] And have condescended also to embrace 
 the bride ! 
 
 The King. As a Platonic earnest of the forgiveness which 
 I know your Christian feelings will not allow you to with- 
 hold. — Ask them yourself. 
 
 The Queen. Yes ; and they will answer me as truly as 
 you will. For whom was this letter intended ? 
 
 j>The Queen 1 
 
SCENE I.] GIRALDA. 45 
 
 The King. [i Confused , apart. ] Now, invention befriend 
 me ! That letter — that letter was intended for your royal 
 self ! Do you imagine Don Japhet would have placed it in 
 your missal otherwise than on my instigation ? 
 
 The Queen [Looking pleased.] And did you really mean 
 this billet-doux for me ? 
 
 The King. Can you doubt it, since it but expresses my 
 real sentiments! I caused it to be introduced into that 
 holy manuel, hoping through your piety to reach your 
 heart. 
 
 The Queen. [Apart.] How culpable have I been in 
 having given to a mistaken zeal the love and devotion I 
 owed to|my husband. [Turns to the King.] Philip, 
 husband, forgive me 1 I confess I have been cold and indiffe- 
 rent towards you ; but this young couple, in their deep 
 attachment, have taught me a lesson by which it shall be 
 my study to profit. 
 
 The King. [Apart.] I suppose now I must forgive her ! 
 [Aloud.] Nay, your Majesty is too severe. 
 
 The Queen. [Turning to Don Manuel.] I would cele- 
 brate my own happiness by ensuring happiness to others. 
 You shall be united, and I will be present at the wedding. 
 [Turning to Don Japhet.] And if Don Japhet will join 
 the party, he will no longer be .under suspicion. 
 
 Gir. [Looking affectionately in Don ManueVs face.] 
 Now, I shall indeed be happy ; and this time we will be 
 married by daylight. 
 
 Enter Gil, r ., fixing his eyes on Giralda and Don Manuel • 
 
 Gil. It strikes me I ought to have had Giralda, after all — 
 she’ll make a splendid Grand Mistress of the Order of 
 1 Santiago. [Coming forward.] But when the wind blows, 
 then the mill goes ; and if the mill always goes as merrily as 
 it has gone to-day — [Shaking his pocket.] — I shall realise, 
 rejoicingly, the old saw — ‘It’s an ill wind that blows 
 nobody good !* 
 
 DISPOSITION OF THE CHARACTERS AT THE 
 FALL OF THE CURTAIN. 
 
 R. C. : L. 
 
 Gentlemen in Waiting. Pages and Maids of Honour. 
 
 Don Japhet. < Don Philip. 
 
 Don Manuel. Giralda. Gil. Queen. 
 
 THE END.