_Pal._ (_aside_). Ah! who is this? Who’s there?
[_Covering himself._
_Mar._ (_entering_). ’Tis only I,
Manuël’s sister. I have come to see
If I can do you any service, lady.
_Pal._ He did not send you?
_Mar._ Nay, but I may hope
I shall not seem to intrude, thus waiting on you.
_Pal._ (_aside_). What’s to be done?
_Mar._ The room is dark. I fear you are ill.
_Pal._ I am hurt and must not stir.
_Mar._ Then lying here
In pain you must want help and company.
’Tis well I came. May I draw back the curtains?
_Pal._ Nay, there was reason, madam, why your brother 660
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? 670
_Mar._ Now while I sit. [_Finds gown on the chair._
... Why, oh! ’tis drenched with blood,
Your gown. Are you so hurt?
_Pal._ A sword-thrust, lady.
_Mar._ A sword-thrust. Ah!
_Pal._ Thou earnest unadvised,
Lady: I wore the gown; if that deceived thee.
Yet ’twas but a disguise to save my life.
I am Palicio.
_Mar._ Sir!
_Pal._ Escaped from prison
And my pursuers hither. Thy brother’s kindness
Hides me from death awhile.
_Mar._ I pray thy pardon.
’Twas not mere idle curiosity
That made my fault; but made I’ll mend it, sir, 680
As soon as may be. [_Going._
_Pal._ (_springing up_). Stay, nay, put down that key.
I bid thee stay. Thou hast forced my secret. Hear
The whole, and when thou hast heard I shall not fear
The unlocking of thy lips.
_Mar._ Why, sir, the thing
My brother means to hide is hidden to me.
_Pal._ ’Tis not alone my life ...
_Mar._ Ah! see the blood is trickling down thy hand!
_Pal._ Pest! it hath started freshly.
_Mar._ Cannot I help thee?
_Pal._ Ay, ’tis the bandage on this arm.
_Mar._ To tie it?
_Pal._ My moving hath displaced it.
_Mar._ See, alas! 690
The ill I have done. Sit, I will bind it for thee.
_Pal._ Myself I cannot.
_Mar._ Nay. Tell thou me how.
_Pal._ Here, round this pad. As tightly as thou wilt.
Nay, tighter yet.
_Mar._ Shall I not harm thee?
_Pal._ Tighter.
_Mar._ I cannot pull it tighter.
_Pal._ Knot it so.
’Twill do: the blood hath ceased.
_Mar._ Oh, I am glad.
Do not thou stir: see, now, to wash thine arm,
I’ll bring thee water. [_Goes for it._
_Pal._ (_aside_). By heaven, where have I lived,
Like a wild beast beneath the open skies,
In dens and caves, and never known the taste 700
Of this soft ravishment? The rich of the earth
Are right: their bars and bolts are wisely wrought,
Having such treasure in their closed chambers.
_Mar._ Here ’tis. Reach forth thine arm.
_Pal._ Nay, give’t to me.
Stain not thy hands.
_Mar._ I pray thee.
_Pal._ As thou wilt.
_Mar._ How did it happen?
_Pal._ Wouldst thou hear it?
_Mar._ Tell me.
_Pal._ I had been two days in prison ...
_Mar._ Tell me, first,
How could they catch thee?
_Pal._ Treachery: I was taken
By Hugo’s soldiers as I knelt at mass.
Three stole behind me, seized me by the arms, 710
And dragged me forth. I knew I was betrayed;
I had entered but that morning in the town;
I was not known to them, nor did the hirelings
Look on my face. They led me straight to prison,
Thrust me in a cell so dank and dark and small,
That to be built alive into the grave
Were not more horrible.
_Mar._ Hugo would have killed thee.
_Pal._ Or let me starve; or else some gentle mercy;
Gouged my live eyeballs out, or lopped my hands.
_Mar._ How couldst thou ’scape?
_Pal._ Now thou wilt see our people
Have their account. The second night my gaoler 721
Brought in a woman with a deed to sign.
I knew my hope, and to her feigned reproach
Answered in anger back: but when she bade
I took the deed, and felt beneath the paper
A dagger’s edge. That was my key to heaven,
Could I strike silently. To make occasion,
I thrust her from me with an oath: she fell,
As well she knew, against the foe, who stooping,
Stooped to his death and fell without a groan. 730
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, 740
Who wore the habit of the soldier slain:
And she went clear: but I, for some suspicion
Was questioned at the gate. Of those two men,
One I slew straight: the other, as I struck,
Thrust thro’ my arm, yet not so hurtfully
But that he fell for it too. But thence alarm
Was given: I fled pursued, and gat me clear,
Leaping your garden wall.
_Mar._ Who was the woman?
_Pal._ One of our people.
_Mar._ May her name be told?
_Pal._ I never heard it.
_Mar._ Yet she knew thee well. 750
I had been proud to have done her deed. I think
There are not many men as brave as she.
_Pal._ O, lady, there are many, women and men,
Sworn to risk life in our good cause.
_Mar._ Alas,
That such fine courage should be so misled!
_Pal._ Misled? how, if I lead it?
_Mar._ I had forgot.
Pardon me, sir. It was my brother’s word.
_Pal._ Ay, ’tis his word. And yet I honour Manuel.
Were’t not for him there scarce would be a man
Of all our people who would reverence 760
Justice and order, and those other names
Of social welfare. ’Tis to him alone
We have looked to give us these. But if he stand
Where he can take our tyrants by the arm
And show them baits of righteousness, and lead them
Where they should go, shall we who lie beneath
Forbear to sting the laggard heel of justice,
Or think it crime to obstruct the path of wrong?
I blame not him that from his higher place
He finds offence in outcry and disorder: 770
To such as without loss or shame outride
The storms of shifting fortune this is easy.
_Mar._ What dost thou but exasperate ill-will?
_Pal._ Already our bread has been untaxed two days.
_Mar._ And may be two days more.
_Pal._ I have better hope,
Or had: for if I had once provoked the Spaniard
To set his troops against us, all the nobles,
Who now retired hold neutral parliament,
Would then have joined the people, and compelled
The justice of our claim by force of arms. 780
_Mar._ All, say’st thou?
_Pal._ All save one or two, who are bought
With Hugo’s money.
_Mar._ Say’st thou bought?
_Pal._ O lady,
Unto their great dishonour they are bought,
With sweated pence wrung from the labourer,
Ere he can buy a loaf to feed his children
Out of the corn his hands have sown and reaped.
Is not this shame?
_Mar._ ’Tis shame.
_Pal._ And shall Palicio
See this thing done, because he hath not office,
Or those few paltry florins, which might turn
The scale for poor Sicilians?
_Mar._ Ah, indeed, 790
I knew, I felt that thou wert right; and now
I see it: I never blamed thee.
_Pal._ No, nor Manuel
Blames me at heart, tho’ he forbid my means.
Think, had I kept my old estate, and he
Had fallen as I, should I not do as he,
And he as I am doing?
_Mar._ Oh, I think
’Tis nobler to be poor. To share the suffering
Of them we pity ranks above redress.
I am come to envy thee.
_Pal._ And certain it is,
They who have least to lose will venture most. 800
_Mar._ Yet those that have can give. What’s the best hope
Of this rebellion?
_Pal._ We would make thy brother
Viceroy in place of Hugo.
_Mar._ Will that be?
_Pal._ Here I know nothing, save that nought is done.
_Mar._ Is there no leader then but thee?
_Pal._ The people
Are limbs without a head.
_Mar._ When will thy wound
Be healed?
_Pal._ Thy brother says that any surgeon
Could mend it quickly, but that his own skill,
Which knows the injury, was never practised
To find out and to bind the wounded vessel, 810
Which, being unhelped of art, may run to death.
_Mar._ To death! And hath he sent no surgeon?
_Pal._ Nay,
That were the greater risk for him and me.
_Mar._ Not so, if he could cure thee. I shall bring one. [_As going._
_Pal._ It cannot be.
_Mar._ Thou mayst believe there’s none
In all Palermo but myself could do it:
Yet can I do it.
_Pal._ Speak with Manuel first.
_Mar._ Oh! I shall tell him all. He will consent.
’Tis well I came. No surgeon for thee! Ah!
I go.
_Pal._ Thou wilt return?
_Mar._ Be sure, be sure. 820
And with the leech. [_Exit._
_Pal._ She is gone.
[_Scene shuts across._