Act I

SCENE I.--A Wood.

Enter GONSALVO and a Servant.

Gons: Nay, 'twas a strange as well as cruel storm,
To take us almost in the port of Sevile,
And drive us up as far as Barcelona;
The whole plate fleet was scattered, some part wrecked;
There one might see the sailors diligent
To cast o'erboard the merchant's envied wealth,
While he, all pale and dying, stood in doubt,
Whether to ease the burden of the ship,
By drowning of his ingots, or himself.

Serv: Fortune, sir, is a woman everywhere,
But most upon the sea.

Gons: Had that been all,
I should not have complained; but, ere we could
Repair our ship, to drive us back again,
Was such a cruelty--

Serv: Yet that short time you staid at Barcelona
You husbanded so well, I think you left
A mistress there.

Gons: I made some small essays
Of love; what might have been I cannot tell:
But, to leave that, upon what part of Spain
Are we now cast?

Serv: Sir, I take that city to be Alicant.

Gons: Some days must of necessity be spent
In looking to our ship; then back again
For Sevile.

Serv: There you're sure you shall be welcome.

Gons: Aye, if my brother Rodoric be returned
From Flanders; but 'tis now three years since I
Have heard from him, and, since I saw him, twelve.

Serv: Your growth, and your long absence in the Indies,
Have altered you so much, he'll scarcely know you.

Gons: I'm sure I should not him, and less my sister;
Who, when I with my uncle went this voyage,
Was then one of those little prating girls,
Of whom fond parents tell such tedious stories:
Well, go you back.

Serv: I go, sir.

Gons: And take care
None of the seamen slip ashore.

Serv: I shall, sir. [Exit Servant.

Gons: I'll walk a little while among these trees,
Now the fresh evening air blows from the hills,
And breathes the sweetness of the orange flowers
Upon me, from the gardens hear the city.

Robbers within.

1 Rob: I say, make sure, and kill him.

Hip: For heaven's dear sake have pity on my youth.

[Within.

Gons: Some violence is offered in the wood
By robbers to a traveller: Whoe'er
Thou art, humanity obliges me
To give thee succour.

Hip: Help! ah cruel men! [Within.

Gons: This way, I think, the voice came; 'tis not far. [Exit.

The SCENE draws, and discovers HIPPOLITO bound to a tree, and two Robbers by him with drawn swords.

2 Rob: Strip him, and let him go.

1 Rob: Dispatch him quite; off with his doublet quickly.

Hip: Ah me, unfortunate!

Enter GONSALVO, seizes the sword of one of them, and runs
him through; then, after a little resistance, disarms the other.