University of Virginia Library

SCENE I.

—THE OPEN SPACE BEFORE THE CATHEDRAL OF SEVILLE—PEOPLE COMING OUT OF THE CATHEDRAL, AS FROM MASS.
Enter Curio, Valentine, and others.
Valentine
(singing.)

“O Filii et Filiæ!” that's a pleasant psalm, I like the
tune on't.

CURIO.

Peace, listen to these news. Well, sir, how then?

FIRST GENTLEMAN.

Don Carlos, sir, has confessed himself guilty of the
deed; but holds unbroken silence on all else, as motives,
provocations.

SECOND GENTLEMAN.

The trial is to come on at two in the afternoon.

VALENTINE.

Why is the matter so hurried to a hearing?

FIRST GENTLEMAN.

Reasons are given as plenty as chestnuts; none may
be the right, though.

SECOND GENTLEMAN.

Being a nobleman of so much note and importance in
Seville, the presence of the King's high counsellors
is deemed a welcome addition in the trial to our city
officers.

SECOND GENTLEMAN.

'Tis rumoured that the King, who loves Don Carlos
exceedingly, hath already questioned with his nearest
counsellors to have the trial private.

VALENTINE.

Don Pedro's friends will scarce cry content to that.

SECOND GENTLEMAN.

O no; besides, the old Lord Gomez, whose son was
killed in the streets of Saragossa much in the same
fashion, presses the matter to a bloody issue, and seems
to bear a sympathy to the deceased for the sake of his
own murdered heir.

CURIO.

I know of one will not be sorry for this chance.

VALENTINE.

Don Arias?

CURIO.

The same: you recollect the landing. If Don Carlos
pay not now for riding over the black Duke's bastard—
I am no Spaniard!

VALENTINE.

Poor Don Carlos! he hath the prayers of many good
hearts in Seville! This is the history of last night's riddle.
And by that same token where shall we meet tonight,
gentlemen?

SECOND GENTLEMAN.

O at the Anchor again—'tis a good house, and near
the council-room; we can go thither after the trial, for if
it be public I shall attend it.

OMNES.

And I! and I! and I!

CURIO.

O if all go, there will be no supper bespoken.

VALENTINE.

Come thou, and do that now.

CURIO.

We will—farewell, till to-night, gentlemen.

[Exeunt severally.
Enter Hyacinth, and Sancho supporting him.
HYACINTH.

What the foul fiend makest thou hanging on mine
arm, varlet?

SANCHO.

Sir, I'm upholding you.

HYACINTH.

What! I am not drunk.

SANCHO.

Are you quite sure of that, sir? Let me see you stand.
Lo! you, sir, indeed you cannot stand,—you are not
sober yet.

HYACINTH.

If thou do come one inch nearer to me than thou art,
I will show thee which of us can't stand. Peace, get
thee behind me, here be ladies coming out of church.
Wilt thou get thee from me?

SANCHO.

Sir, if you do make your bow in the prostrate form,
it is no fault of mine.

Enter from the Cathedral Florilla and Isabel.
FLORILLA.

Ha! ha! ha! ha! didst mark the lady Julia? for all
the world I would not wear such a mantle.

ISABEL.

It did to hide her face; 'twas a sufficiently good
mantle.

FLORILLA.

How, all prayer time, Donna Maria kept simpering at
the Cavalier in the blue cloak.

ISABEL.

O! a scandal! it hindered me from holy thoughts.

FLORILLA.

So it put no ill ones into thy head—

ISABEL.

Nay, then should I have had an empty skull!

FLORILLA.

What's yonder, strutting up and down in the
sun?

ISABEL.

The rainbow incarnate. Mercy! 'tis a man-peacock!

HYACINTH.

Sancho, do the fair ladies look at me?

SANCHO.

I think they be gazing at one of us, sir.

HYACINTH.

They're sweet-favour'd ladies, Sancho.

SANCHO.

O! sir, to my mind not half so goodly as Patience, the
fat baker's daughter your honour liked before your honour
grew a gentleman.

HYACINTH.

Faugh, tripe!

SANCHO.

There was a deal more of her than of these, sir;
these two would not make a quarter of her.

HYACINTH.

Peace, dolt! think'st thou women be like flesh of
beeves and muttons priz'd by the pound.—I will accost
them.

[He bows, Florilla and Isabel laugh.
FLORILLA.

Do, I beseech thee!

ISABEL.

O that I dared!

FLORILLA.

No harm shall come of it, but infinite sport.

HYACINTH.

Most beauteous fair ones—happy is the earth that
carries you!—the sky that lights you!—the air you
breathe! and the life that dwells within you!

[Florilla and Isabel draw up and exeunt haughtily.
SANCHO.

Most disdainful puppets! very ill mannerly and
dull!

HYACINTH.

O Sancho, these be ladies of great rank and quality—
the first, the tall one, did throw me such a look! Didst
mark how her eye fell on my proportions?

SANCHO.

Where, sir?

HYACINTH.

I shall hear of these again, be sure. Lo! Hyacinthus,
thou'rt the very fondling of Venus—said I not so?

Enter Isabel, laughing.
ISABEL.

Save you, fair sir! my mistress, sir, the lady your
lordship did salute so sweetly but now, has bid me
come back in all haste to you, sir—she is a noble maid
of high estate, greatly woo'd for her beauty and wealth;
but, as your lordship may have noted, she was much
taken with your courtesy, and bade me invite your
honour to her house.

HYACINTH.

O my sweet Iris, tell thy Juno, Hyacinth shall be
her slave, now for ever, here and hereafter, in this
and in all things!

ISABEL.

Our dwelling, sir, is the large house, close here by the
cathedral.

HYACINTH.

I shall not fail to find it. And the hour?

ISABEL.

Come at vespers; my lady will be alone then, and
I will be waiting to admit your lordship.

HYACINTH.

May freckles mar my skin if I come not at the very
hour. Rest you fair, sweet maiden! [Exit Isabel.]

Sancho, Sancho, am not I fortune's minion, thinkest
thou, that such sweet and noble ladies do bear me affection?

SANCHO.

Beshrew me, but I think they be neither more nor
less than—

HYACINTH.

Sancho!

SANCHO.

Well, sir, you recollect what your mother said to you
—it was the third article of her parting discourse,
which had in it many and wise clauses—that you
should never keep company with—

HYACINTH.

Sancho!

SANCHO.

No, sir, not with me, who am an honest man, but
with ill women, sir.

HYACINTH.

Be dumb, and follow me. Hark thee, varlet, if thou
be'st not more modest in thy bearing, and more sparing
of thy moralities henceforth, I will provide me with
another man.

SANCHO.

And let that other man be provided with another
coat, sir; I have now worn this the better half of
Jacob's serving time; also touching my wages, sir—

HYACINTH.

Hark, thee, good Sancho, I am benign, and will forgive
thee; love lies like a warm sop at my heart,
comforting my spirit with an unbounded charity. I
do forgive thee. Get home, Sancho, to our inn; get
me an ounce of civet; I will be sweet as the rosy month
of June; get me my scarlet cloak, that shall describe to
her the ardour of love; get me my blue hose, they
shall bespeak the constancy of the same; put me a green

plume in my bonnet, Sancho, for, o'ertopping all, hope
crowns my love, foretelling me success in my amorous
campaign; and anon follow me to Vasco's; I must excuse
myself from a supper at the Anchor, to which I
was bid. Some say that Love and Fortune are blind;
I cannot tell,—I do not think they be:—pshaw, 'tis
only those on whom they never look, who say, for
spite, that they have got no eyes.

[Exeunt severally.