_Man._ Giuseppe, prepare The little room at the end of the corridor; I will sleep there. I shall not want thee more. 300
It matters not what happens, day by day The rupture grows. ’Tis plain Hugo and I Are foes at heart—and what a pitiful trick To put the question of my marriage by, Withholding his consent just for the thought, That while my happiness hangs on his nod, I must be closer bound to serve his interest, Now, when his credit totters. Doth he not know That honourable minds, thro’ very fear Of their self-interest, are thrust away 310 Beyond their counter-judgment? Nay, ’tis clear He falls, he falls; and were’t not now for Constance, I’d gladly see him fall.
_Pal._ Let me bar the door. [_Goes to door._
_Pal._ Escaped, thank God! I skirmished with my guards, and being pursued Came thro’ your orange garden. Here none will seek me. 320 Hide me!
_Pal._ Ay, call me madman. I am mad, and praise God for it ... if to hate tyrants Be madness, I’m past cure: or if ’tis madness To escape from prison ...
_Man._ Nay, neither. I blamed thee not In these; but that thou thinkest to overbear The troops of Spain with thy small brigand crew: To escape from justice flying to my house,— The chief justiciary.
_Pal._ First, I beseech you, Help me to bind my wound.
_Pal._ A thrust in the arm, a petty prick, which yet Bleeds uncontrolledly.
_Man._ Undo it. It spurts. Hold here thy hand, while with thy handkerchief I bind thy arm.
_Man._ Peace, man! ’Twill stay the blood to bind thee here. Hast thou no other hurt?
_Pal._ Nay, none but this. And see, ’tis staunched already. I must thank you, Tho’ here your help should end. Call in the hirelings; They’ll not be far. I will go back with them. And yet ’twere pity; for ’tis certain death: 340 I have killed three of them. Manuel, I pray you— I pray you, Manuel, crush not all my hopes, My just cause. Give me a sword and a man’s dress, And let me forth to try my fortune!
_Pal._ Then if I take my dagger and venture out ...
I’ll yet escape. Deny me not this chance. See, I’ll not ask your leave, but only go. _Going._
_Man._ Giovanni, stay. Thou hast done me a great wrong In flying here. Why didst thou choose my house?
_Pal._ ’Twas as I fled for life: the hue-and-cry 350 Came gathering faster round me: being still clear, And seeing your wall, it seemed my safety lay In that leap, could I make it.