University of Virginia Library

Scene I.

—The Station of St. Elmo in the Forest.—Silisco in pilgrim's weeds.
Silisco.
Full many from the Holy Land return
Less holy than they went; my pilgrimage,
In gratitude and earthly love begun,
To heavenly, let me hope, shall lead at last;
For 'twas not ended when I westward turn'd,
Nor was I more in Palestine, methinks,
A pilgrim and a stranger in the land
Than here in Sicily I feel myself.
Hark! there are voices! travellers, no doubt;
This shelter then will not be all mine own.
Why should it be? So churlish am I now
That nothing pleases me but Solitude,
She that for shadows keeps an open house
And entertains the Future and the Past.
Yes—there are voices—from which side I know not;
And through the mist is nothing to be seen
But apparitions thin—the ghosts of trees.
Enter the Provost and Marshalsmen, with Ruggiero as a Prisoner.
God's mercy! 'Tis Ruggiero! Hush, be still,
Unruly tongue! In custody, I think.

Provost.

Foul ways, foul ways! When a bog, a fog, and
a forest conspire, 'tis well for travellers to be housed
betimes. Hey! but here's a Pilgrim before us! Light
a fire, my lads. Ha! here's the blood of old Guffo on
the hearth-stone still. He resisted to the death and we
were forced to slay him. God save you, Sir Pilgrim!

Silisco.

Save you, Sir!

Provost.

You see here a great man, Sir, that was
once. But we will say no more. The course of justice,
Sir.

Silisco.

I have heard that greatness and justice come
together more often as opposites than allies.

Provost.

Hey! How is that? Seek about, lads, in
the wood for the driest sticks you can find, and I'll fetch
down the rushes from the loft—looking to locks and bars
though first.

[Exeunt Provost and Marshalsmen.
Silisco.
Ruggiero!

Ruggiero.
Sir, you know my name; what more?

Silisco.
Much more, Ruggiero. Am I then so changed
You know me not? Were you as changed as I
I scarce can think that beard or gown or hood,
Or tawny paintings of the Syrian sun,
Or inward alteration working out,
Could hide Ruggiero from Silisco.

Ruggiero.
Ha!
Silisco! Grace defend us! whence art thou?

Silisco.
From Palestine. But is it thus we meet?
What courtly perfidy or princely lapse
Hath brought these cursed fetters upon hands
That might have preach'd with Paul?

Ruggiero.
Of that anon;
'Tis but the chafing of the love-sick King
At losing of Lisana. And you come
From Palestine? Then the good Count is dead?

Silisco.
No care could save him. To my charge he gave
A priceless relic for Rosalba's hands,
Wherewith I now repair to Malespina.

Ruggiero.
Hush! here's the Provost.

Re-enter the Provost from above.
Silisco.
Did you hear a cry?
A howling as of wolves? no, did you not?
Where be your men?

Provost.
What! wolves Sir? Blockheads! dolts!
If there be wolves, why come they not within?

[Exit.
Silisco.
Go, seek thy fellow-blockheads in the fog
And spare us time to speak. Lisana, said you?
Was she the cause of quarrel?

Ruggiero.
She it was;
Seeing I hid her from his amorous quest,
And where, he cannot to this day divine.
'Tis in the convent of San Paolo,
Whereof my aunt is Abbess. She fulfils
The time of her noviciate there, which past
She takes the veil. I kept myself conceal'd
Till that were done; and now the day draws near,
St. Michael's Eve, and, luckless that I am!
These marshalsmen have clutch'd me.

Silisco.
Luckless? No;
When we two come together, I deny
That Fortune can be adverse. Two to four?
What could we wish? Ruggiero, by my life
My blood is bounding in me at the thought
As wildly as an unbroken Barbary horse.
Hark! are they coming?

Ruggiero.
Now I know thee well;
Thy blooming, gay, ungovernable youth
Comes back upon thy face; but rein it in,
Rein in, Silisco, the wild Barbary horse;
These marshalsmen, untoward as they are,
But execute the service that they owe;
I would not harm them.

Silisco.
Circumvent them then;
By stratagem we'll spare to break their bones:
Yes, yes, I see; by stratagem we'll work;
We'll touch them not; we will not lift a hand;
Yet shall they fly like madmen through the wood
And leave you free. My wits have been to school
In many an exigency exercised
Since last we met, and scarce shall find their match
In clowns like these.

Re-enter the Provost and the Marshalsmen, the first carrying rushes and utensils for cooking, the others dry sticks.
Provost.

Ay, put a light to these and we shall soon
have a blaze.

Silisco.

Oh, Sir! I pray you, Sir, do not step upon the
hearth-stone; nor you, Sir, nor you.

1st Marshalsman.

What should hinder us? what's in
the hearth-stone?

Silisco.

I beseech you, do not. See now! they have
trampled over it, all three of them.

Provost.

Why what, Sir? what then?

Silisco.

Why, did you not say that stain on it was from
the blood of some malefactor?

Provost.

Ay, it was old Guffo. How hard he died,
the old fool! He was hacked and chopped from nape
to chine before he fell, and the blood streaming down
his white beard! Ugh! it makes me shudder to think
of it!

Silisco.

And know ye not, then, that this is the night
of the release of Barabbas?

Provost.

I knew it not; but what if it be?

Silisco.

Must a man travel to the Holy Land to know
that? Surely ye are not so ignorant but ye know that

there is this night a jubilee of all the malefactors in the
regions below, and that if any one shall have trodden
this day on the blood of a malefactor, his ghost is
permitted to rise at twelve o'clock of the night, on the spot
where his blood was trampled.

Provost.

Where heard'st thou that, Sir
Pilgrim?

Silisco.

What is there!

[Starts back and overturns the table. The Marshalsmen rush out of the house, the Provost following and calling them back.

Did I not tell you that their wits were weak? I'll
warrant them to run three miles through bog and briar,
before they stop to take breath.

Ruggiero.

An easy riddance so far; but the Provost
is a shrewd fellow and ere long will bethink himself of
his charge.

Silisco.

Should he waylay us, we have but to trip up
his heels and bind him to a tree; and if he hath upon
him the key which unlocks these fetters, there is the edge
of a file saved. But whither shall we go?

Ruggiero.

The convent of San Paolo is not far distant;
St. Michael's Eve is at hand; and I would fain bid
Lisana farewell, and see her take the veil. We will not
seek harbour there before that day, lest we should be
tracked and she be hindered; but if thou wilt, let us
live like wild hunters in the woods till St. Michael's Eve.

Silisco.

Have with you! there's no roof-tree that I love
Like the live roof-tree of the forest. Come.