Act First
S ANCHO. You noble pastures of Galicia,
Under the shadow of these mountain sides,
Whose skirts the Sil amid his rushes green
Would kiss, sustenance to the marshalled host
Of flowers, varied in a thousand hues, you give.
You birds that sing of love, you beasts that roam
Untrammeled of restraint, where have you seen
More tender love in birds or beasts or flowers?
But since it is impossible to see
Aught else of all the sun looks down upon
More beautiful than my Elvira is,
Nor aught else may be born, so, being born,
Of her great beauty by necessity
My love is sprung, which from her favor draws
Its brightest glory; no greater beauty is,
No greater beauty and no greater love.
Alas, sweet lady, may your beauty grow
That so in me may grow the love I bear!
But ah! Most beautiful of them that toil,
Since beauty cannot find in thee increase,
Nor loving in my heart betimes, then know
I love you for the beauty that you show,
There is naught else to such endearment binds.
The pallid sands of this swift rivulet
You turned but yesterday to gleaming pearls,
Setting your feet therein, lilies of snow;
While I cried out, because I scarce could see,
Unto the sun, your face, wherewith you shed
Such radiance of light—who would not stay—
That he should look upon the water there,
So all your beauty might be visible.
Linen, Elvira, you were washing linen,
Which all your labor never could make white
For magic of the hands you laid thereon,
And I, behind these chestnuts, gazeDon you
With trembling, till suddenly I saw that love
Had handed you the bandage from his eyes,
In his rich favor given you to lave.
But heaven forbids that love should go unblinded
I' the world! … Oh God! But when shall come that day
(On which I too must die), when at the last
I say to her: “Elvira, you are mine!”
What gifts and presents I shall shower on you!
I am no fool not to esteem your worth,
Each year more priceless dear in my affection.
Know in the realms of my heart's rich possession,
There are no provinces of mean disdain.
E LVIRA. Either Sancho came down this way, or else my hopes deceive me. In faith, there he is now! I knew my heart would find him out. He was looking in the brook where he surprised me yesterday. Does he think, I wonder, my shadow stays behind? Ah, but I was angry when I saw him looking at me in the water!
What are you looking for, Sancho—whom God bless!—in the sands of these swift mountain brooks, every time that you come out to the pasture? Have you found the corals which I lost here by the bank?
S ANCHO. I was looking for myself—I lost myself here yesterday, but now I begin to find myself again, because I find myself with you.
E LVIRA. I know you have come to help me find them.
S ANCHO. A pretty thing to do, to look for what you are bringing with you in your cheeks. I wonder is it modesty or disdain? But I have found the jewels.
E LVIRA. Where?
S ANCHO. There on your lips—and look out!
All bordered about with silver!
E LVIRA. Let me go!
S ANCHO. Always ungrateful for my faith and loyalty!
E LVIRA. Sancho, you are too bold. What more would you do, tell me that, if by any chance it were the eve of your wedding day?
S ANCHO. But whose fault was it?
E LVIRA. Yours, by my faith!
S ANCHO. Mine? No, because I warned you; my heart spoke but you said nothing.
E LVIRA. What better answer could you want than to have me say nothing?
S ANCHO. We are both to blame.
E LVIRA. Since you are so cautious, Sancho, let me tell you that we women say most when we are silent. We give when we deny. Judge by this and by what you see and never believe us, whether we are cruel or kind. For everything we do is to be taken by opposites.
S ANCHO. Then if that is so, you give me permission to ask Nuño to let us marry. You say nothing? You say yes then. Good! I have mastered the science.
E LVIRA. You have, but you must never tell him that I love you.
S ANCHO. Here he comes.
E LVIRA. I will hide behind this elm and wait his answer.
S ANCHO. Oh God! If it might be that we should marry! If not, I die!
N UÑO. You serve me in such sort, Pelayo, it would be better for me to find some one who would keep a sharper watch over my flocks along the river bank. Are you discontented in my house?
P ELAYO. God knows I am.
N UÑO. Then your employment ends to-day; service is not marriage.
P ELAYO. It ought to come before it.
N UÑO. You have lost my hogs.
P ELAYO. But with my mind where it was, what else was I to do? Listen; I want to become one of the family.
N UÑO. Why not? By all means do. But never blame then your hoggishness on me.
P ELAYO. Wait; it's not easy to explain …
N UÑO. Wait, and it will be harder to do.
P ELAYO. As she was coming out of the house yesterday, Elvira called to me: “Hello, Pelayo! Your pigs are fat.”
N UÑO. Well, what did you answer?
P ELAYO. Amen, like the sacristan.
N UÑO. You did? But what do you make of this?
P ELAYO. Don't you see?
N UÑO. How should I?
P ELAYO. She has lost all sense of shame.
S ANCHO. Will the blockhead never go?
P ELAYO. Don't you see she loves me, and this is the way she takes to let me know that she wants to marry?
N UÑO. God bless us!
P ELAYO. I didn't tell you, though, so as to make you angry at our happiness.
N UÑO. Sancho! You here?
S ANCHO. Waiting to speak with you.
N UÑO. At once.—Pelayo, a moment. Wait.
S ANCHO. Nuño, my fathers ever as you know
Were humble laborers, who bore no stain;
Honest in station, in custom grave and slow.
P ELAYO. Sancho, you know what tricks these lovers feign.
To have a rich and pretty woman say
To a poor fellow fresh as flowers of Spain,
“Your pigs are fat”—would she not mean, I pray,
She'd like to marry somehow with that man?
S ANCHO. Her thoughts indeed might tend the marriage way!
N UÑO. Out, rascal, out! Begone!
S ANCHO. You know how ran
Their fame and their integrity. My love
Will not offend your honor; no true love can.
I burn for my Elvira, consumed above,
Below.
P ELAYO. A friend of mine he had a herd
So thin—jerked beef hung up above the stove!
When I take my pigs out you'd cry absurd—
N UÑO. You here yet, booby? Now by all the blue! …
P ELAYO. Shall we talk of Elvira or swap word
About the pigs?
S ANCHO. Sir, since you know how true
My love——
P ELAYO. Sir, since you know how far she'd go—
N UÑO. What ruder savage ever Indies grew?
S ANCHO. Approve our marriage with due rites and show.
P ELAYO. I led a hog along the bank here past her …
N UÑO. The wretched fool will split my head, I know.
P ELAYO. Who would have made a perfect chapel master,
The voice he had it was so harsh and rude.
While going in and out the grunts came faster …
N UÑO. What does Elvira say?
S ANCHO. She has been wooed
And won, and gives consent. I ask her hand.
N UÑO. Happy her fortune with such love endued!
Sancho, she knows what simple virtues stand
Within your heart, well meriting in meed
The noblest lady that e'er graced the land.
P ELAYO. With four or five hogs such as now I feed—
Which would beget yet others in six years—
I'd soon be having horses from the breed.
N UÑO. You serve Don Tello in his flocks, who rears
His power over these lands, and is supreme
Through all Galicia, nor aught he fears
In foreign realms. His servant, Sancho, I deem
It fit you lay perforce your full intent
Before him. Rich and bounteous in extreme
He might bestow a portion of his rent
On you, of these the flocks you tend. So poor
Elvira's dowry is, that her consent
Is all its sum. See this rude house, whose door
Is set amid these pastures; its rafters bare
The thick smoke blackens, finding no vent. Four
Far distant fields I have, waiting the share—
Ten or a dozen chestnuts. All is naught,
Unless the master of these lands should add
Some gift with clothing or employment fraught.
S ANCHO. To put my love in doubt makes my heart sad!
P ELAYO. Sunshine and heaven! He marry
Elvira? Tiring!
Well, I abandon her; my love turns bad.
S ANCHO. What more could any lover ask, expiring
For her great beauty than her beauty's store?
Celestial wonder with the world admiring!
My mind is not so low, so crabbed, sore
But her great virtue moves me more than dower.
N UÑO. It is no shame to speak with your señor,
Nor need you fear to supplicate his power.
He and his sister else might easily
Withdraw their favor, Sancho, in ill hour.
S ANCHO. I go against my judgment; finally
I go since you command it.
N UÑO. May God bless,
Sancho, both you and your posterity.
Pelayo, come with me.
P ELAYO. What foolishness
To give him to Elvira and not me!
N UÑO. Sancho is young and honest, noble no less.
P ELAYO. And for a countryman you shall not see
His equal. That's the truth, to put it mild.
But in the house far better let me be,
And every month count on a fresh grandchild.
S ANCHO. Come forth, Elvira of my eyes! Oh come
My priceless, beauteous treasure!
E LVIRA. O God! What doubts
Love harbors hiding, and trembles in distrust!
My anxious hopes hang only by a hair.
S ANCHO. Your father says that he has pledged your hand
To a youth in service of Don Tello here.
Alas! What strange extremity of fate!
E LVIRA. Then not in vain did love hang all my hopes
Upon a hair. You say my father, Sancho,
Would give me to a squire in service? Then
To-day I end my life, I die to-day.
Ah live, sweet sorrow, live! I take my life.
S ANCHO. An end, Elvira, this is jesting only.
See how my soul leaps up into my eyes
And yield you to their plain sincerity.
Because he answered yes a thousand times
Without delay.
E LVIRA. I do not weep for you.
No, Sancho, it is going to the Palace.
My bringing-up upon this humble farm
Will be a source of shame continually.
You know it is the truth.
S ANCHO. Foolish love deceived me!
Ah live, my foolish care! I end my life.
All was deception of Elvira only,
In whose pure snows I burn!
E LVIRA. An end then, Sancho, this is jesting only;
See how my soul leaps up into my eyes,
For love and a too anxious expectation
Have taught this lesson by quick definition:—
True love is but reprisal and disdain.
S ANCHO. But then I am your husband?
E LVIRA. Did you not say
It was arranged?
S ANCHO. Elvira, without my asking
Your father yet has proffered his advice.
It is his wish I go and seek consent
Of Lord Don Tello, since he is my master
As of these lands, in peace and war supreme.
Although, Elvira, I have gained in you
The summed and sovereign treasure of the world
(The sun beholds in you both Indian realms
Mirrored in beauty), yet Nuño wills it so,
Because he is my master. He, in sooth,
Is old in the world, experienced and wise;
So his opinion must command respect.
Besides he is your father. Light of my eyes,
I go to speak with him!
E LVIRA. I wait you here.
S ANCHO. May heaven grant a thousand happy gifts
From him and from his sister!
E LVIRA. It is enough
That he should know.
S ANCHO. I leave my life and soul
Within these tender hands. But grant me one!
E LVIRA. They both are yours. Take and look on them there.
S ANCHO. With these in mine, what can fate do against me?
Now you shall know the steadfast heart I bear
After such priceless favor. I learn of love
To see, to value and to understand!
Don T ELLO. Take in the spear.
C ELIO. What sport we had to-day!
J ULIO. It was a famous chase.
Don T ELLO. Every field
Lies brilliant in the sun, so beautiful
To sense the hues is like a holiday.
C ELIO. How softly winding the rivulets creep up
To kiss the blossom's feet!
Don T ELLO. Go feed the dogs,
Celio, as you love God.
C ELIO. How well they rose
Over the crests and ridges of the mountains!
J ULIO. Two famous dogs.
C ELIO. And Florisel's the flower
Of all the country.
Don T ELLO. Galaor does well.
J ULIO. He is a famous hound.
C ELIO. My lady, sir—
Your sister hears you come.
Don T ELLO. What loving care!
And how repaid by me, Feliciana,
This watchfulness in you!
F ELICIANA. When you are gone,
I am in such disquiet for you, my lord,
As God knows. Nothing but vexes me;
I cannot sleep, I am deprived of rest;
Nor hare nor rabbit, puny howsoe'er,
But is as fearsome to me as wild beast.
Don T ELLO. Among the mountains of Galicia
There are no wild beasts, sister, though blood of youth
Is avid of the wild. Sometimes, mayhap,
A boar runs out from the thick mountain cover,
Whose marvellous exploits time and again
Myself have seen performed. They are wild beasts
That with the tusk, e'en at the horses croup,
Will rive the armored collar from the hound,
And yet therewith so ill appease their rage,
To sum destruction at its savage full,
They barter their hot and fiercely foaming breath
For the gushing blood which from his flank is drawn.
There is beside the roving bear, which falls
Upon the huntsman as he roams along,
With such resistless, ungovernable rage
As ofttimes bears him lifeless to the ground.
But day by day the ordinary chase
Is humble though various, not to tempt heaven.
It is right worthy of the gentleman,
Of princes even, for in it are taught
The precepts of high war; it whets the steel
And skills the body in the use of arms.
F ELICIANA. I should not give myself this anxious care
Were you but married, losing all my sleep.
Don T ELLO. I know no equal, being so powerful here.
F ELICIANA. The daughter of some prosperous gentleman
Living nearby, would suit you well enough.
Don T ELLO. I believe you chide me for my want of thought
About your marriage—a care that's ever born
With women.
F ELICIANA. On your life you are deceived!
I only seek your good.
P ELAYO. Soft! Come in. They are alone. No one is here who will prevent you.
S ANCHO. You are right, for those who are with them are all of the house.
P ELAYO. Now you will see what they give you.
S ANCHO. I but comply with the demands of duty.
Most noble and illustrious Don Tello,
And you, O beautiful Feliciana,
Who are the lords and masters of these lands
Whom I have oft-repeated cause to love,
Grant Sancho your most generous feet to kiss—
Sancho who herds your flocks and tends your pasture,
An office humble in so high a house.
But in Galicia, great lords and masters,
Each man is so high born, only in this
That he is in the service of the rich,
The poor man yields to him. Know I am poor,
And in the simple office of my speech,
Most plain you should not note me; for your train
Passes a hundred thirty persons serving,
Who eat your food and wait upon your bounty.
Yet sometimes in the chase I make so bold
To think you must have seen me.
Don T ELLO. I have indeed,
And with your bearing I have been well pleased
And I esteem you well.
S ANCHO. A thousand times
I kiss your feet in payment of such favor.
Don T ELLO. What would you?
S ANCHO. Great my Lord, the years pass by
With such relentless pace, it seems post-haste
They rush with letters to the realms of death,
While life holds but brief lodging through the night,
Death coming in the morning. My days are lonely;
My father was a man of worth, who died
Ere he knew service. The line of our poor house
In me is ended. So I fain would wed
An honorable maid, who is the child
Of Nuño of Aibar, who tills your fields
But yet can point to the emblazoned shields
Upon the time-scarred scutcheon of his door,
And still retains with them from that proud day
Some lances. These—and the virtues of Elvira,
For so the bride is called—have won my heart.
She loves me and her father gives consent,
Though not without your license. Only to-day
He bade me learn it was the lord's to know
All that is done or happens in his house,
From deed of humblest vassal to his most proud
That fattens on his revenues; and kings
Are much at fault if they attend not this,
Which seldom they attend. I took his counsel
And here am come, my lord, as he commands
To tell you of my marriage.
Don T ELLO. Nuño is wise,
Nor may such excellent advice be paid
In moderation.—Celio!
C ELIO. Señor?
Don T ELLO. Give Sancho twenty cows, a hundred sheep
Add you thereto. I and my sister both
Honor this wedding.
S ANCHO. Such favor!
P ELAYO. Favor such?
S ANCHO. Such great bounty!
P ELAYO. Such bounty? Great!
S ANCHO. Oh rare virtue!
P ELAYO. Virtue—Oh rare!
S ANCHO. Lordly mien!
P ELAYO. Mean? Lordly!
S ANCHO. And pity, saintly lady!
P ELAYO. Saintly lady? Pity!
Don T ELLO. Who is this boor who mimics what you speak
And keeps you company?
P ELAYO. I am the one
Who puts hind-end first whatever he can say.
S ANCHO. He is, my lord, in Nuño's service.
P ELAYO. My lord,
I am indeed a prodigy of Nuño's!
Don T ELLO. What?
P ELAYO. Why, the man who tends his pigs, of course!
I come to ask a favor of you too.
Don T ELLO. Whom would you marry?
P ELAYO. Señor, no one just now;
But lest the devil get the best of me,
I'd like to ask you for a calf or two,
In case I need it. In Masalanca once
An old astrologer he told me this:
“Beware of bulls. There's always trouble with them.”
He predicted water too was dangerous;
Since when I've never had the least desire
Either to marry or take a drink of water,
So as to avoid all trouble.
F ELICIANA. Simple fellow!
Don T ELLO. No niggard of his wit.
F ELICIANA. Sancho, begone
In happy hour.—And you look to it well.
The cows and sheep be driven to his cot.
S ANCHO. My poor rude tongue can never celebrate
Your towering glory.
Don T ELLO. When do you marry?
S ANCHO. This very night, for so my love commands.
Don T ELLO. See where the sun shuts off his faltering light!
Amid his clouds of gold he sudden sinks
Into the West. Go then prepare the feast;
I and my sister grace it with our presence.
Ho there! Make ready the coach!
S ANCHO. My heart and tongue
Are bound, great Lord, in your eternal praise.
F ELICIANA. But are you sure you will not marry too?
P ELAYO. I was to marry, lady, too, the bride
Of this same fellow, who's a shapely lass
If ever one was in Galicia.
She knew though I kept pigs, and so she up
And turned me down for one.
F ELICIANA. God keep you, friend,
For she was not deceived.
P ELAYO. No more she was;
All of us are, Señora, what …
F ELICIANA. Well, what?
P ELAYO. Well what our parents passed along.
F ELICIANA. The fellow pleases me.
C ELIO. Now by my troth
The rustic is no fool in what he speaks;
Thereon Your Lordship may indeed rely.
The girl is first in all Galicia
In beauty—one who both by form and feature,
By rare discretion and by honesty,
With added virtues thereto infinite,
Might well shed lustre on the noblest scion
Of all the land of Spain.
F ELICIANA. Is she so fair?
C ELIO. She is an angel.
Don T ELLO. How easy 'tis to see
You speak, Celio, from the heart!
C ELIO. I do.
I had some feeling once, anDon my life
I could not be deceived.
Don T ELLO. Some country girls there are, devoid of paint
Or ornament, who draw all eyes to them,
And with the eyes the soul; but they are coy
And so uncommon disdainful of their favors,
The pretense wearies me.
F ELICIANA. Rather meseems
Those who defend themselves are more esteemed.
N UÑO. Did Don Tello say that?
S ANCHO. He did, sir.
N UÑO. Surely he answers in a manner befitting his great worth.
S ANCHO. He commanded them to give me the flock as I have told you.
N UÑO. May he live a thousand years!
S ANCHO. And although it is too great a gift, I value the honor he does me by coming to be my sponsor more.
N UÑO. But is his sister to be with him too?
S ANCHO. She is.
N UÑO. Such a generous disposition is the direct gift of heaven.
S ANCHO. They are liberal masters.
N UÑO. Oh that this house might be a splendid palace, since it is to entertain the richest and the most powerful guests in all the kingdom!
S ANCHO. Make no trouble about that. It will be the same in their eyes as if it covered infinite space. In short, they will presently be here.
N UÑO. What good advice I gave you!
S ANCHO. I have certainly found in Don Tello a complete and perfect master. Take generosity away from the master, in which he is most like to God, and he is no more a master; but that he is one is seen both in his giving and his bestowing honor. Since it is God's will to make his sovereign virtue known by giving, without giving and without bestowing honor, no master can be master.
N UÑO. A hundred sheep! Twenty cows! It will be a goodly fortune as you lead them out along the pastures of the Sil in the springtime. May God reward Don Tello for so rich a gift and such priceless favor!
S ANCHO. Where is Elvira, sir?
N UÑO. Busy with her hair or some frippery of her wedding dress.
S ANCHO. As long as she retains her smile, she can dispense with curls and ornaments, for it is all sunshine.
N UÑO. You are no rustic lover.
S ANCHO. I shall bring to her, sir, the steadfastness of the laborer and the devotion of the courtier.
N UÑO. No man can love worthily who is deficient in understanding; for the very essence of love is this—that we feel what we feel. I rejoice that it is so with you. Call in the men! I will have this gentleman to know I too am someone here—I am or I have been.
S ANCHO. I think I hear my masters draw near; and they will follow them. Tell Elvira to leave her hair and make ready to receive their blessing.
Don T ELLO. Where is my sister?
J UANA. She has gone in to the bride.
S ANCHO. Señor! …
Don T ELLO. Sancho!
S ANCHO. It would be madness, with my rude wit, to attempt to return thanks for this great honor.
Don T ELLO. Where is the father of the bride?
N UÑO. Where his years have already been enriched by your unbounded favor.
Don T ELLO. Come to my arms!
N UÑO. Would that my house were a world, and you lord of that world!
Don T ELLO. What is your name, little one?
P ELAYO. Pelayo, sir.
Don T ELLO. I did not speak to you.
P ELAYO. You did not speak to me?
J UANA. Juana, at your service.
Don T ELLO. Well said!
P ELAYO. Even if he doesn't know it. But if a man gets after her in the kitchen, I tell you she hits him a blow with the ladle that's enough to curdle his wits. Once when I got as far as the olla , there was nothing left of me for two whole months together.
Don T ELLO. And what is your name?
P ELAYO. Pelayo, sir.
Don T ELLO. I did not speak to you.
P ELAYO. I thought you did speak to me.
Don T ELLO. What is your name?
L EONOR. Mine? Leonor.
P ELAYO. Why is he questioning the girls all the time, and never a word to us young fellows?
I am Pelayo, sir.
Don T ELLO. Well? What have you to do with them?
P ELAYO. I am the swineherd, yes sir.
Don T ELLO. I mean are you a husband, a brother?
N UÑO. What a blockhead you are!
S ANCHO. What an ignorant clown!
P ELAYO. As my mother made me.
S ANCHO. Here come your sister and the bride.
F ELICIANA. Brother, show them favor. Happy the masters who can count such vassals!
Don T ELLO. You are right, in God's name! A beautiful girl!
F ELICIANA. And spirited as well.
E LVIRA. Modesty overcomes me—it is the first time—
I never looked upon Your Lordship before.
N UÑO. My Lords, sit down; these chairs are all I have.
Don T ELLO. I never saw such loveliness. What heavenly perfection! Their praise has been too small. Happy the hope that waits on such possession!
P ELAYO. Give Sancho permission to sit down.
Don T ELLO. Sit down.
S ANCHO. No, my Lord.
Don T ELLO. Sit down!
S ANCHO. Such an honor to me in the presence of my Lady?
F ELICIANA. Sit down by the bride; there is no one now to dispute the place with you.
Don T ELLO. In all my life I never thought to see such strange, surpassing beauty.
P ELAYO. And I? Where shall I sit?
S ANCHO. Out there in the stable, there you can solemnize the feast.
Don T ELLO. In God's name, I am on fire!
What is your name?
P ELAYO. Pelayo, sir.
N UÑO. Will you be silent? He was talking to the women, and you were counting yourself in with the girls. Elvira is her name, my Lord.
Don T ELLO. By God then, but Elvira is beautiful and worthy, however great a miracle it seem, of a husband nobly born!
N UÑO. Girls, let the wedding be merry.
Don T ELLO. What rare beauty!
N UÑO. Dance until the priest comes, as you are wont to do.
J UANA. The priest is already here.
Don T ELLO. Then tell the priest that he shall not come in.
Such heavenly beauty steals my heart away!
S ANCHO. But why, Señor?
Don T ELLO. Because it is my will,
Knowing you further, to honor you the more.
S ANCHO. I wish no other honor than to win Elvira, and I expect none other.
Don T ELLO. To-morrow will do better.
S ANCHO. Do not delay, my Lord, such priceless blessing;
But see my eager pain! An accident,
A trifle even betwixt this hour and morning
May snatch from me the good which now I hold,
Wherewith the present richly overflows.
For if philosophers speak any truth
Well spoke the sage who said it was the sun
Which brought all change and passing to the world.
How then can I tell,
Subject to his spell,
What untoward thing
The dawn will bring
From other worlds to-morrow?
Don T ELLO. Low in mind
And in condition low!
I would do him honor
And make a holiday, but he, poor fool,
Before your face persists, dear sister mine,
In his dishonest purpose.—Nuño, I say!
Take her away! Rest all in peace to-night!
N UÑO. I do your bidding.
N UÑO. This is unjust, meseems.
What is't should cause Don Tello such offense?
E LVIRA. I dare not answer, not to brand my thoughts
As evil.
N UÑO. To them both . I do not understand his purpose
Nor what he fain would do. He is my master,
But in my heart is irks me that he came.
S ANCHO. How much the more it must irk me,
Though I conceal my mind!
P ELAYO. No wedding to-night?
J UANA. No.
P ELAYO. Why not?
J UANA. Don Tello does not wish it.
P ELAYO. Don Tello? What has he to do with it?
J UANA. He must have something; it was his command.
P ELAYO. Upon my word, before the priest comes in
We shall be leaping over these obstructions!
S ANCHO. A word, Elvira.
E LVIRA. Sancho, woe is me!
Alas, but I am little fortunate!
S ANCHO. What would the master that he puts us off
Until to-morrow?
E LVIRA. I know not what he would.
But ah, it must be love!
S ANCHO. Is it in reason that he bars from me,
O beautiful my eyes, this very night
The peace and solace which my burning heart
Has craved so long?
E LVIRA. You are my husband;
Sancho, come to my door to-night.
S ANCHO. My all! …
Will it stand open?
E LVIRA. Will it not?
S ANCHO. Be thou
My remedy and cure! Hadst thou said no,
Then I had slain myself.
E LVIRA. I too had slain myself.
S ANCHO. The priest arrived but he could not come in.
E LVIRA. He would not have the priest come in.
S ANCHO. Relent
And open—our hearts a better way shall prove;
No clumsy priest to heal desire is love!
Don T ELLO. You understand me well enough.
C ELIO. I hardly think a very subtle understanding is required to understand you, great my Lord.
Don T ELLO. Go in then; Elvira and the old man are alone.
C ELIO. The people went to their homes in notable displeasure to see the wedding so delayed.
Don T ELLO. I acted, Celio, upon the first counsel which love gave to me. It would have been infamous in my passion to have suffered a peasant to possess the beauty which I crave. After I am tired of her, this country fool can marry her, and I will grant him a flock and a grange, with money enough for him to live. It is a compensation which comes to many, as we have both of us seen in the world. Finally, I have the power, and I will avail me of it while I may, since the fellow is not married. Put on your masks.
C ELIO. Shall we knock?
Don T ELLO. Do.
A TTENDANT. They open now.
E LVIRA. Enter, Sancho, my soul!
C ELIO. Elvira?
E LVIRA. Yes.
A N A TTENDANT. Fortunate encounter!
E LVIRA. It is not you, Sancho?—Woe is me! Father!
Señor! Nuño! Help me, heaven! They seize me!
They carry me away!
Don T ELLO. Away now!
N UÑO. What is this?
E LVIRA. Father!
Don T ELLO. Cover her mouth.
N UÑO. Daughter! Now I hear and see you! But my feeble age and tottering strength—what can they do against the might of a young and powerful man? I know now who it is.
S ANCHO. I thought I heard cries in the valley in the direction of the Master's house.
P ELAYO. Speak low; don't let the servants hear.
S ANCHO. While I am inside, remember—you must not fall asleep.
P ELAYO. I shall not; I understand. I have had my opportunity already.
S ANCHO. When the morning star rises to beg alms of the dawn, I shall come out; but the dawn need expect none from me, for it will be driving me out of paradise.
P ELAYO. While you are inside, do you know what I shall be like? Like a doctor's ass, chewing on his bit by the door.
S ANCHO. Knock.
P ELAYO. I'll lay you that Elvira is peeping through the keyhole.
S ANCHO. Here I stand and knock.
N UÑO. I shall lose my reason.
S ANCHO. Who goes there?
N UÑO. A man!
S ANCHO. Nuño?
N UÑO. Sancho?
S ANCHO. But you in the street? What is this?
N UÑO. What is this, you say?
S ANCHO. Yes, but what is the matter? I fear some harm.
N UÑO. The greatest that can befall; some would be too little.
S ANCHO. How?
N UÑO. A body of armed men broke down these doors and bore her off.
S ANCHO. No more! My hope is ended!
N UÑO. I sought to track them by the pale and fitful moon;
They would not stay nor have their faces seen,
Covering their features sudden up with masks,
Wherefore I could not know them.
S ANCHO. To what end, Nuño?
How should it profit us? What good were served?
All, all are servants in Don Tello's train
To whom you bade me speak:
An evil counsel and I say amen!
There are ten houses standing in this vale—
All ten of simple folk, who gather here
About this chapel. It could be none of them.
It is the Master rather bore her off
To his own town and close, whereof the sign
Most sure and certain this:—he has refused
To let us marry. What justice shall I find
This side of heaven, he being a powerful man
And richest in the kingdom? God knows I …
I die! … It cannot be another thought
Lurks in his head
N UÑO. Hold, Sancho!
P ELAYO. By the river bank
If I can catch his pigs out on the meadow—
Yes, though they have a guard along—I'll stone them!
N UÑO. Now is the time to profit by your wisdom,
My son.
S ANCHO. How can I, father and señor?
You advised the hurt, advise the remedy.
N UÑO. To-morrow we shall speak with the Señor;
For well I know, since what was done was done
In heat of youth, repentance will have come
With morning. I trust Elvira, Sancho;
Nor force nor prayers can overcome her.
S ANCHO. I know and do believe it.
Alack! I die of love!
Ah me! I burn with jealousy!
On what unhappy human head till now
Has fallen ever such hideous mischance?
But how? To lead and welcome to my house
The fierce and sanguinary lion, to seize
My white, my tender lamb? Say was I blind?
Yes, yes, I was! Let never high-born knight
Enter the humble dwellings of the poor
Wherein rich treasures lie!
I seem to see her face streaming with tears,
Coursing like pearls adown her scarlet cheeks,
While she defends her honor. I seem to hear—
Unhappy thought!—her sad, protesting moans,
While the cruel tyrant whispers in her ear
Outrageous profanation. I see her locks
Make of themselves close, friendly lattices,
Disheveled falling from her pallid brow,
To screen her from his hot and fierce desires.
Unhand me, Nuño! I will take my life!
I lose the very sense and touch of reason!
Alack! I die of love!
Ah me! I burn with jealousy!
N UÑO. Sancho, you are well born.
Where is your courage now?
S ANCHO. I fear such things
As once imagined, madden the very soul;
Yet have no hope nor power of remedy.
Show me Elvira's room.
P ELAYO. Show me the kitchen,
Or hunger, sir, will be the death of me;
You know I had no supper. All of us
Were horribly put out.
N UÑO. Enter and rest,
So may we all take comfort till the morning.
Don Tello is no wild man.
S ANCHO. Alack! I die of love!
Ah me! I am consumed with jealousy!
Under the shadow of these mountain sides,
Whose skirts the Sil amid his rushes green
Would kiss, sustenance to the marshalled host
Of flowers, varied in a thousand hues, you give.
You birds that sing of love, you beasts that roam
Untrammeled of restraint, where have you seen
More tender love in birds or beasts or flowers?
But since it is impossible to see
Aught else of all the sun looks down upon
More beautiful than my Elvira is,
Nor aught else may be born, so, being born,
Of her great beauty by necessity
My love is sprung, which from her favor draws
Its brightest glory; no greater beauty is,
No greater beauty and no greater love.
Alas, sweet lady, may your beauty grow
That so in me may grow the love I bear!
But ah! Most beautiful of them that toil,
Since beauty cannot find in thee increase,
Nor loving in my heart betimes, then know
I love you for the beauty that you show,
There is naught else to such endearment binds.
The pallid sands of this swift rivulet
You turned but yesterday to gleaming pearls,
Setting your feet therein, lilies of snow;
While I cried out, because I scarce could see,
Unto the sun, your face, wherewith you shed
Such radiance of light—who would not stay—
That he should look upon the water there,
So all your beauty might be visible.
Linen, Elvira, you were washing linen,
Which all your labor never could make white
For magic of the hands you laid thereon,
And I, behind these chestnuts, gazeDon you
With trembling, till suddenly I saw that love
Had handed you the bandage from his eyes,
In his rich favor given you to lave.
But heaven forbids that love should go unblinded
I' the world! … Oh God! But when shall come that day
(On which I too must die), when at the last
I say to her: “Elvira, you are mine!”
What gifts and presents I shall shower on you!
I am no fool not to esteem your worth,
Each year more priceless dear in my affection.
Know in the realms of my heart's rich possession,
There are no provinces of mean disdain.
E LVIRA. Either Sancho came down this way, or else my hopes deceive me. In faith, there he is now! I knew my heart would find him out. He was looking in the brook where he surprised me yesterday. Does he think, I wonder, my shadow stays behind? Ah, but I was angry when I saw him looking at me in the water!
What are you looking for, Sancho—whom God bless!—in the sands of these swift mountain brooks, every time that you come out to the pasture? Have you found the corals which I lost here by the bank?
S ANCHO. I was looking for myself—I lost myself here yesterday, but now I begin to find myself again, because I find myself with you.
E LVIRA. I know you have come to help me find them.
S ANCHO. A pretty thing to do, to look for what you are bringing with you in your cheeks. I wonder is it modesty or disdain? But I have found the jewels.
E LVIRA. Where?
S ANCHO. There on your lips—and look out!
All bordered about with silver!
E LVIRA. Let me go!
S ANCHO. Always ungrateful for my faith and loyalty!
E LVIRA. Sancho, you are too bold. What more would you do, tell me that, if by any chance it were the eve of your wedding day?
S ANCHO. But whose fault was it?
E LVIRA. Yours, by my faith!
S ANCHO. Mine? No, because I warned you; my heart spoke but you said nothing.
E LVIRA. What better answer could you want than to have me say nothing?
S ANCHO. We are both to blame.
E LVIRA. Since you are so cautious, Sancho, let me tell you that we women say most when we are silent. We give when we deny. Judge by this and by what you see and never believe us, whether we are cruel or kind. For everything we do is to be taken by opposites.
S ANCHO. Then if that is so, you give me permission to ask Nuño to let us marry. You say nothing? You say yes then. Good! I have mastered the science.
E LVIRA. You have, but you must never tell him that I love you.
S ANCHO. Here he comes.
E LVIRA. I will hide behind this elm and wait his answer.
S ANCHO. Oh God! If it might be that we should marry! If not, I die!
N UÑO. You serve me in such sort, Pelayo, it would be better for me to find some one who would keep a sharper watch over my flocks along the river bank. Are you discontented in my house?
P ELAYO. God knows I am.
N UÑO. Then your employment ends to-day; service is not marriage.
P ELAYO. It ought to come before it.
N UÑO. You have lost my hogs.
P ELAYO. But with my mind where it was, what else was I to do? Listen; I want to become one of the family.
N UÑO. Why not? By all means do. But never blame then your hoggishness on me.
P ELAYO. Wait; it's not easy to explain …
N UÑO. Wait, and it will be harder to do.
P ELAYO. As she was coming out of the house yesterday, Elvira called to me: “Hello, Pelayo! Your pigs are fat.”
N UÑO. Well, what did you answer?
P ELAYO. Amen, like the sacristan.
N UÑO. You did? But what do you make of this?
P ELAYO. Don't you see?
N UÑO. How should I?
P ELAYO. She has lost all sense of shame.
S ANCHO. Will the blockhead never go?
P ELAYO. Don't you see she loves me, and this is the way she takes to let me know that she wants to marry?
N UÑO. God bless us!
P ELAYO. I didn't tell you, though, so as to make you angry at our happiness.
N UÑO. Sancho! You here?
S ANCHO. Waiting to speak with you.
N UÑO. At once.—Pelayo, a moment. Wait.
S ANCHO. Nuño, my fathers ever as you know
Were humble laborers, who bore no stain;
Honest in station, in custom grave and slow.
P ELAYO. Sancho, you know what tricks these lovers feign.
To have a rich and pretty woman say
To a poor fellow fresh as flowers of Spain,
“Your pigs are fat”—would she not mean, I pray,
She'd like to marry somehow with that man?
S ANCHO. Her thoughts indeed might tend the marriage way!
N UÑO. Out, rascal, out! Begone!
S ANCHO. You know how ran
Their fame and their integrity. My love
Will not offend your honor; no true love can.
I burn for my Elvira, consumed above,
Below.
P ELAYO. A friend of mine he had a herd
So thin—jerked beef hung up above the stove!
When I take my pigs out you'd cry absurd—
N UÑO. You here yet, booby? Now by all the blue! …
P ELAYO. Shall we talk of Elvira or swap word
About the pigs?
S ANCHO. Sir, since you know how true
My love——
P ELAYO. Sir, since you know how far she'd go—
N UÑO. What ruder savage ever Indies grew?
S ANCHO. Approve our marriage with due rites and show.
P ELAYO. I led a hog along the bank here past her …
N UÑO. The wretched fool will split my head, I know.
P ELAYO. Who would have made a perfect chapel master,
The voice he had it was so harsh and rude.
While going in and out the grunts came faster …
N UÑO. What does Elvira say?
S ANCHO. She has been wooed
And won, and gives consent. I ask her hand.
N UÑO. Happy her fortune with such love endued!
Sancho, she knows what simple virtues stand
Within your heart, well meriting in meed
The noblest lady that e'er graced the land.
P ELAYO. With four or five hogs such as now I feed—
Which would beget yet others in six years—
I'd soon be having horses from the breed.
N UÑO. You serve Don Tello in his flocks, who rears
His power over these lands, and is supreme
Through all Galicia, nor aught he fears
In foreign realms. His servant, Sancho, I deem
It fit you lay perforce your full intent
Before him. Rich and bounteous in extreme
He might bestow a portion of his rent
On you, of these the flocks you tend. So poor
Elvira's dowry is, that her consent
Is all its sum. See this rude house, whose door
Is set amid these pastures; its rafters bare
The thick smoke blackens, finding no vent. Four
Far distant fields I have, waiting the share—
Ten or a dozen chestnuts. All is naught,
Unless the master of these lands should add
Some gift with clothing or employment fraught.
S ANCHO. To put my love in doubt makes my heart sad!
P ELAYO. Sunshine and heaven! He marry
Elvira? Tiring!
Well, I abandon her; my love turns bad.
S ANCHO. What more could any lover ask, expiring
For her great beauty than her beauty's store?
Celestial wonder with the world admiring!
My mind is not so low, so crabbed, sore
But her great virtue moves me more than dower.
N UÑO. It is no shame to speak with your señor,
Nor need you fear to supplicate his power.
He and his sister else might easily
Withdraw their favor, Sancho, in ill hour.
S ANCHO. I go against my judgment; finally
I go since you command it.
N UÑO. May God bless,
Sancho, both you and your posterity.
Pelayo, come with me.
P ELAYO. What foolishness
To give him to Elvira and not me!
N UÑO. Sancho is young and honest, noble no less.
P ELAYO. And for a countryman you shall not see
His equal. That's the truth, to put it mild.
But in the house far better let me be,
And every month count on a fresh grandchild.
S ANCHO. Come forth, Elvira of my eyes! Oh come
My priceless, beauteous treasure!
E LVIRA. O God! What doubts
Love harbors hiding, and trembles in distrust!
My anxious hopes hang only by a hair.
S ANCHO. Your father says that he has pledged your hand
To a youth in service of Don Tello here.
Alas! What strange extremity of fate!
E LVIRA. Then not in vain did love hang all my hopes
Upon a hair. You say my father, Sancho,
Would give me to a squire in service? Then
To-day I end my life, I die to-day.
Ah live, sweet sorrow, live! I take my life.
S ANCHO. An end, Elvira, this is jesting only.
See how my soul leaps up into my eyes
And yield you to their plain sincerity.
Because he answered yes a thousand times
Without delay.
E LVIRA. I do not weep for you.
No, Sancho, it is going to the Palace.
My bringing-up upon this humble farm
Will be a source of shame continually.
You know it is the truth.
S ANCHO. Foolish love deceived me!
Ah live, my foolish care! I end my life.
All was deception of Elvira only,
In whose pure snows I burn!
E LVIRA. An end then, Sancho, this is jesting only;
See how my soul leaps up into my eyes,
For love and a too anxious expectation
Have taught this lesson by quick definition:—
True love is but reprisal and disdain.
S ANCHO. But then I am your husband?
E LVIRA. Did you not say
It was arranged?
S ANCHO. Elvira, without my asking
Your father yet has proffered his advice.
It is his wish I go and seek consent
Of Lord Don Tello, since he is my master
As of these lands, in peace and war supreme.
Although, Elvira, I have gained in you
The summed and sovereign treasure of the world
(The sun beholds in you both Indian realms
Mirrored in beauty), yet Nuño wills it so,
Because he is my master. He, in sooth,
Is old in the world, experienced and wise;
So his opinion must command respect.
Besides he is your father. Light of my eyes,
I go to speak with him!
E LVIRA. I wait you here.
S ANCHO. May heaven grant a thousand happy gifts
From him and from his sister!
E LVIRA. It is enough
That he should know.
S ANCHO. I leave my life and soul
Within these tender hands. But grant me one!
E LVIRA. They both are yours. Take and look on them there.
S ANCHO. With these in mine, what can fate do against me?
Now you shall know the steadfast heart I bear
After such priceless favor. I learn of love
To see, to value and to understand!
Don T ELLO. Take in the spear.
C ELIO. What sport we had to-day!
J ULIO. It was a famous chase.
Don T ELLO. Every field
Lies brilliant in the sun, so beautiful
To sense the hues is like a holiday.
C ELIO. How softly winding the rivulets creep up
To kiss the blossom's feet!
Don T ELLO. Go feed the dogs,
Celio, as you love God.
C ELIO. How well they rose
Over the crests and ridges of the mountains!
J ULIO. Two famous dogs.
C ELIO. And Florisel's the flower
Of all the country.
Don T ELLO. Galaor does well.
J ULIO. He is a famous hound.
C ELIO. My lady, sir—
Your sister hears you come.
Don T ELLO. What loving care!
And how repaid by me, Feliciana,
This watchfulness in you!
F ELICIANA. When you are gone,
I am in such disquiet for you, my lord,
As God knows. Nothing but vexes me;
I cannot sleep, I am deprived of rest;
Nor hare nor rabbit, puny howsoe'er,
But is as fearsome to me as wild beast.
Don T ELLO. Among the mountains of Galicia
There are no wild beasts, sister, though blood of youth
Is avid of the wild. Sometimes, mayhap,
A boar runs out from the thick mountain cover,
Whose marvellous exploits time and again
Myself have seen performed. They are wild beasts
That with the tusk, e'en at the horses croup,
Will rive the armored collar from the hound,
And yet therewith so ill appease their rage,
To sum destruction at its savage full,
They barter their hot and fiercely foaming breath
For the gushing blood which from his flank is drawn.
There is beside the roving bear, which falls
Upon the huntsman as he roams along,
With such resistless, ungovernable rage
As ofttimes bears him lifeless to the ground.
But day by day the ordinary chase
Is humble though various, not to tempt heaven.
It is right worthy of the gentleman,
Of princes even, for in it are taught
The precepts of high war; it whets the steel
And skills the body in the use of arms.
F ELICIANA. I should not give myself this anxious care
Were you but married, losing all my sleep.
Don T ELLO. I know no equal, being so powerful here.
F ELICIANA. The daughter of some prosperous gentleman
Living nearby, would suit you well enough.
Don T ELLO. I believe you chide me for my want of thought
About your marriage—a care that's ever born
With women.
F ELICIANA. On your life you are deceived!
I only seek your good.
P ELAYO. Soft! Come in. They are alone. No one is here who will prevent you.
S ANCHO. You are right, for those who are with them are all of the house.
P ELAYO. Now you will see what they give you.
S ANCHO. I but comply with the demands of duty.
Most noble and illustrious Don Tello,
And you, O beautiful Feliciana,
Who are the lords and masters of these lands
Whom I have oft-repeated cause to love,
Grant Sancho your most generous feet to kiss—
Sancho who herds your flocks and tends your pasture,
An office humble in so high a house.
But in Galicia, great lords and masters,
Each man is so high born, only in this
That he is in the service of the rich,
The poor man yields to him. Know I am poor,
And in the simple office of my speech,
Most plain you should not note me; for your train
Passes a hundred thirty persons serving,
Who eat your food and wait upon your bounty.
Yet sometimes in the chase I make so bold
To think you must have seen me.
Don T ELLO. I have indeed,
And with your bearing I have been well pleased
And I esteem you well.
S ANCHO. A thousand times
I kiss your feet in payment of such favor.
Don T ELLO. What would you?
S ANCHO. Great my Lord, the years pass by
With such relentless pace, it seems post-haste
They rush with letters to the realms of death,
While life holds but brief lodging through the night,
Death coming in the morning. My days are lonely;
My father was a man of worth, who died
Ere he knew service. The line of our poor house
In me is ended. So I fain would wed
An honorable maid, who is the child
Of Nuño of Aibar, who tills your fields
But yet can point to the emblazoned shields
Upon the time-scarred scutcheon of his door,
And still retains with them from that proud day
Some lances. These—and the virtues of Elvira,
For so the bride is called—have won my heart.
She loves me and her father gives consent,
Though not without your license. Only to-day
He bade me learn it was the lord's to know
All that is done or happens in his house,
From deed of humblest vassal to his most proud
That fattens on his revenues; and kings
Are much at fault if they attend not this,
Which seldom they attend. I took his counsel
And here am come, my lord, as he commands
To tell you of my marriage.
Don T ELLO. Nuño is wise,
Nor may such excellent advice be paid
In moderation.—Celio!
C ELIO. Señor?
Don T ELLO. Give Sancho twenty cows, a hundred sheep
Add you thereto. I and my sister both
Honor this wedding.
S ANCHO. Such favor!
P ELAYO. Favor such?
S ANCHO. Such great bounty!
P ELAYO. Such bounty? Great!
S ANCHO. Oh rare virtue!
P ELAYO. Virtue—Oh rare!
S ANCHO. Lordly mien!
P ELAYO. Mean? Lordly!
S ANCHO. And pity, saintly lady!
P ELAYO. Saintly lady? Pity!
Don T ELLO. Who is this boor who mimics what you speak
And keeps you company?
P ELAYO. I am the one
Who puts hind-end first whatever he can say.
S ANCHO. He is, my lord, in Nuño's service.
P ELAYO. My lord,
I am indeed a prodigy of Nuño's!
Don T ELLO. What?
P ELAYO. Why, the man who tends his pigs, of course!
I come to ask a favor of you too.
Don T ELLO. Whom would you marry?
P ELAYO. Señor, no one just now;
But lest the devil get the best of me,
I'd like to ask you for a calf or two,
In case I need it. In Masalanca once
An old astrologer he told me this:
“Beware of bulls. There's always trouble with them.”
He predicted water too was dangerous;
Since when I've never had the least desire
Either to marry or take a drink of water,
So as to avoid all trouble.
F ELICIANA. Simple fellow!
Don T ELLO. No niggard of his wit.
F ELICIANA. Sancho, begone
In happy hour.—And you look to it well.
The cows and sheep be driven to his cot.
S ANCHO. My poor rude tongue can never celebrate
Your towering glory.
Don T ELLO. When do you marry?
S ANCHO. This very night, for so my love commands.
Don T ELLO. See where the sun shuts off his faltering light!
Amid his clouds of gold he sudden sinks
Into the West. Go then prepare the feast;
I and my sister grace it with our presence.
Ho there! Make ready the coach!
S ANCHO. My heart and tongue
Are bound, great Lord, in your eternal praise.
F ELICIANA. But are you sure you will not marry too?
P ELAYO. I was to marry, lady, too, the bride
Of this same fellow, who's a shapely lass
If ever one was in Galicia.
She knew though I kept pigs, and so she up
And turned me down for one.
F ELICIANA. God keep you, friend,
For she was not deceived.
P ELAYO. No more she was;
All of us are, Señora, what …
F ELICIANA. Well, what?
P ELAYO. Well what our parents passed along.
F ELICIANA. The fellow pleases me.
C ELIO. Now by my troth
The rustic is no fool in what he speaks;
Thereon Your Lordship may indeed rely.
The girl is first in all Galicia
In beauty—one who both by form and feature,
By rare discretion and by honesty,
With added virtues thereto infinite,
Might well shed lustre on the noblest scion
Of all the land of Spain.
F ELICIANA. Is she so fair?
C ELIO. She is an angel.
Don T ELLO. How easy 'tis to see
You speak, Celio, from the heart!
C ELIO. I do.
I had some feeling once, anDon my life
I could not be deceived.
Don T ELLO. Some country girls there are, devoid of paint
Or ornament, who draw all eyes to them,
And with the eyes the soul; but they are coy
And so uncommon disdainful of their favors,
The pretense wearies me.
F ELICIANA. Rather meseems
Those who defend themselves are more esteemed.
N UÑO. Did Don Tello say that?
S ANCHO. He did, sir.
N UÑO. Surely he answers in a manner befitting his great worth.
S ANCHO. He commanded them to give me the flock as I have told you.
N UÑO. May he live a thousand years!
S ANCHO. And although it is too great a gift, I value the honor he does me by coming to be my sponsor more.
N UÑO. But is his sister to be with him too?
S ANCHO. She is.
N UÑO. Such a generous disposition is the direct gift of heaven.
S ANCHO. They are liberal masters.
N UÑO. Oh that this house might be a splendid palace, since it is to entertain the richest and the most powerful guests in all the kingdom!
S ANCHO. Make no trouble about that. It will be the same in their eyes as if it covered infinite space. In short, they will presently be here.
N UÑO. What good advice I gave you!
S ANCHO. I have certainly found in Don Tello a complete and perfect master. Take generosity away from the master, in which he is most like to God, and he is no more a master; but that he is one is seen both in his giving and his bestowing honor. Since it is God's will to make his sovereign virtue known by giving, without giving and without bestowing honor, no master can be master.
N UÑO. A hundred sheep! Twenty cows! It will be a goodly fortune as you lead them out along the pastures of the Sil in the springtime. May God reward Don Tello for so rich a gift and such priceless favor!
S ANCHO. Where is Elvira, sir?
N UÑO. Busy with her hair or some frippery of her wedding dress.
S ANCHO. As long as she retains her smile, she can dispense with curls and ornaments, for it is all sunshine.
N UÑO. You are no rustic lover.
S ANCHO. I shall bring to her, sir, the steadfastness of the laborer and the devotion of the courtier.
N UÑO. No man can love worthily who is deficient in understanding; for the very essence of love is this—that we feel what we feel. I rejoice that it is so with you. Call in the men! I will have this gentleman to know I too am someone here—I am or I have been.
S ANCHO. I think I hear my masters draw near; and they will follow them. Tell Elvira to leave her hair and make ready to receive their blessing.
Don T ELLO. Where is my sister?
J UANA. She has gone in to the bride.
S ANCHO. Señor! …
Don T ELLO. Sancho!
S ANCHO. It would be madness, with my rude wit, to attempt to return thanks for this great honor.
Don T ELLO. Where is the father of the bride?
N UÑO. Where his years have already been enriched by your unbounded favor.
Don T ELLO. Come to my arms!
N UÑO. Would that my house were a world, and you lord of that world!
Don T ELLO. What is your name, little one?
P ELAYO. Pelayo, sir.
Don T ELLO. I did not speak to you.
P ELAYO. You did not speak to me?
J UANA. Juana, at your service.
Don T ELLO. Well said!
P ELAYO. Even if he doesn't know it. But if a man gets after her in the kitchen, I tell you she hits him a blow with the ladle that's enough to curdle his wits. Once when I got as far as the olla , there was nothing left of me for two whole months together.
Don T ELLO. And what is your name?
P ELAYO. Pelayo, sir.
Don T ELLO. I did not speak to you.
P ELAYO. I thought you did speak to me.
Don T ELLO. What is your name?
L EONOR. Mine? Leonor.
P ELAYO. Why is he questioning the girls all the time, and never a word to us young fellows?
I am Pelayo, sir.
Don T ELLO. Well? What have you to do with them?
P ELAYO. I am the swineherd, yes sir.
Don T ELLO. I mean are you a husband, a brother?
N UÑO. What a blockhead you are!
S ANCHO. What an ignorant clown!
P ELAYO. As my mother made me.
S ANCHO. Here come your sister and the bride.
F ELICIANA. Brother, show them favor. Happy the masters who can count such vassals!
Don T ELLO. You are right, in God's name! A beautiful girl!
F ELICIANA. And spirited as well.
E LVIRA. Modesty overcomes me—it is the first time—
I never looked upon Your Lordship before.
N UÑO. My Lords, sit down; these chairs are all I have.
Don T ELLO. I never saw such loveliness. What heavenly perfection! Their praise has been too small. Happy the hope that waits on such possession!
P ELAYO. Give Sancho permission to sit down.
Don T ELLO. Sit down.
S ANCHO. No, my Lord.
Don T ELLO. Sit down!
S ANCHO. Such an honor to me in the presence of my Lady?
F ELICIANA. Sit down by the bride; there is no one now to dispute the place with you.
Don T ELLO. In all my life I never thought to see such strange, surpassing beauty.
P ELAYO. And I? Where shall I sit?
S ANCHO. Out there in the stable, there you can solemnize the feast.
Don T ELLO. In God's name, I am on fire!
What is your name?
P ELAYO. Pelayo, sir.
N UÑO. Will you be silent? He was talking to the women, and you were counting yourself in with the girls. Elvira is her name, my Lord.
Don T ELLO. By God then, but Elvira is beautiful and worthy, however great a miracle it seem, of a husband nobly born!
N UÑO. Girls, let the wedding be merry.
Don T ELLO. What rare beauty!
N UÑO. Dance until the priest comes, as you are wont to do.
J UANA. The priest is already here.
Don T ELLO. Then tell the priest that he shall not come in.
Such heavenly beauty steals my heart away!
S ANCHO. But why, Señor?
Don T ELLO. Because it is my will,
Knowing you further, to honor you the more.
S ANCHO. I wish no other honor than to win Elvira, and I expect none other.
Don T ELLO. To-morrow will do better.
S ANCHO. Do not delay, my Lord, such priceless blessing;
But see my eager pain! An accident,
A trifle even betwixt this hour and morning
May snatch from me the good which now I hold,
Wherewith the present richly overflows.
For if philosophers speak any truth
Well spoke the sage who said it was the sun
Which brought all change and passing to the world.
How then can I tell,
Subject to his spell,
What untoward thing
The dawn will bring
From other worlds to-morrow?
Don T ELLO. Low in mind
And in condition low!
I would do him honor
And make a holiday, but he, poor fool,
Before your face persists, dear sister mine,
In his dishonest purpose.—Nuño, I say!
Take her away! Rest all in peace to-night!
N UÑO. I do your bidding.
N UÑO. This is unjust, meseems.
What is't should cause Don Tello such offense?
E LVIRA. I dare not answer, not to brand my thoughts
As evil.
N UÑO. To them both . I do not understand his purpose
Nor what he fain would do. He is my master,
But in my heart is irks me that he came.
S ANCHO. How much the more it must irk me,
Though I conceal my mind!
P ELAYO. No wedding to-night?
J UANA. No.
P ELAYO. Why not?
J UANA. Don Tello does not wish it.
P ELAYO. Don Tello? What has he to do with it?
J UANA. He must have something; it was his command.
P ELAYO. Upon my word, before the priest comes in
We shall be leaping over these obstructions!
S ANCHO. A word, Elvira.
E LVIRA. Sancho, woe is me!
Alas, but I am little fortunate!
S ANCHO. What would the master that he puts us off
Until to-morrow?
E LVIRA. I know not what he would.
But ah, it must be love!
S ANCHO. Is it in reason that he bars from me,
O beautiful my eyes, this very night
The peace and solace which my burning heart
Has craved so long?
E LVIRA. You are my husband;
Sancho, come to my door to-night.
S ANCHO. My all! …
Will it stand open?
E LVIRA. Will it not?
S ANCHO. Be thou
My remedy and cure! Hadst thou said no,
Then I had slain myself.
E LVIRA. I too had slain myself.
S ANCHO. The priest arrived but he could not come in.
E LVIRA. He would not have the priest come in.
S ANCHO. Relent
And open—our hearts a better way shall prove;
No clumsy priest to heal desire is love!
Don T ELLO. You understand me well enough.
C ELIO. I hardly think a very subtle understanding is required to understand you, great my Lord.
Don T ELLO. Go in then; Elvira and the old man are alone.
C ELIO. The people went to their homes in notable displeasure to see the wedding so delayed.
Don T ELLO. I acted, Celio, upon the first counsel which love gave to me. It would have been infamous in my passion to have suffered a peasant to possess the beauty which I crave. After I am tired of her, this country fool can marry her, and I will grant him a flock and a grange, with money enough for him to live. It is a compensation which comes to many, as we have both of us seen in the world. Finally, I have the power, and I will avail me of it while I may, since the fellow is not married. Put on your masks.
C ELIO. Shall we knock?
Don T ELLO. Do.
A TTENDANT. They open now.
E LVIRA. Enter, Sancho, my soul!
C ELIO. Elvira?
E LVIRA. Yes.
A N A TTENDANT. Fortunate encounter!
E LVIRA. It is not you, Sancho?—Woe is me! Father!
Señor! Nuño! Help me, heaven! They seize me!
They carry me away!
Don T ELLO. Away now!
N UÑO. What is this?
E LVIRA. Father!
Don T ELLO. Cover her mouth.
N UÑO. Daughter! Now I hear and see you! But my feeble age and tottering strength—what can they do against the might of a young and powerful man? I know now who it is.
S ANCHO. I thought I heard cries in the valley in the direction of the Master's house.
P ELAYO. Speak low; don't let the servants hear.
S ANCHO. While I am inside, remember—you must not fall asleep.
P ELAYO. I shall not; I understand. I have had my opportunity already.
S ANCHO. When the morning star rises to beg alms of the dawn, I shall come out; but the dawn need expect none from me, for it will be driving me out of paradise.
P ELAYO. While you are inside, do you know what I shall be like? Like a doctor's ass, chewing on his bit by the door.
S ANCHO. Knock.
P ELAYO. I'll lay you that Elvira is peeping through the keyhole.
S ANCHO. Here I stand and knock.
N UÑO. I shall lose my reason.
S ANCHO. Who goes there?
N UÑO. A man!
S ANCHO. Nuño?
N UÑO. Sancho?
S ANCHO. But you in the street? What is this?
N UÑO. What is this, you say?
S ANCHO. Yes, but what is the matter? I fear some harm.
N UÑO. The greatest that can befall; some would be too little.
S ANCHO. How?
N UÑO. A body of armed men broke down these doors and bore her off.
S ANCHO. No more! My hope is ended!
N UÑO. I sought to track them by the pale and fitful moon;
They would not stay nor have their faces seen,
Covering their features sudden up with masks,
Wherefore I could not know them.
S ANCHO. To what end, Nuño?
How should it profit us? What good were served?
All, all are servants in Don Tello's train
To whom you bade me speak:
An evil counsel and I say amen!
There are ten houses standing in this vale—
All ten of simple folk, who gather here
About this chapel. It could be none of them.
It is the Master rather bore her off
To his own town and close, whereof the sign
Most sure and certain this:—he has refused
To let us marry. What justice shall I find
This side of heaven, he being a powerful man
And richest in the kingdom? God knows I …
I die! … It cannot be another thought
Lurks in his head
N UÑO. Hold, Sancho!
P ELAYO. By the river bank
If I can catch his pigs out on the meadow—
Yes, though they have a guard along—I'll stone them!
N UÑO. Now is the time to profit by your wisdom,
My son.
S ANCHO. How can I, father and señor?
You advised the hurt, advise the remedy.
N UÑO. To-morrow we shall speak with the Señor;
For well I know, since what was done was done
In heat of youth, repentance will have come
With morning. I trust Elvira, Sancho;
Nor force nor prayers can overcome her.
S ANCHO. I know and do believe it.
Alack! I die of love!
Ah me! I burn with jealousy!
On what unhappy human head till now
Has fallen ever such hideous mischance?
But how? To lead and welcome to my house
The fierce and sanguinary lion, to seize
My white, my tender lamb? Say was I blind?
Yes, yes, I was! Let never high-born knight
Enter the humble dwellings of the poor
Wherein rich treasures lie!
I seem to see her face streaming with tears,
Coursing like pearls adown her scarlet cheeks,
While she defends her honor. I seem to hear—
Unhappy thought!—her sad, protesting moans,
While the cruel tyrant whispers in her ear
Outrageous profanation. I see her locks
Make of themselves close, friendly lattices,
Disheveled falling from her pallid brow,
To screen her from his hot and fierce desires.
Unhand me, Nuño! I will take my life!
I lose the very sense and touch of reason!
Alack! I die of love!
Ah me! I burn with jealousy!
N UÑO. Sancho, you are well born.
Where is your courage now?
S ANCHO. I fear such things
As once imagined, madden the very soul;
Yet have no hope nor power of remedy.
Show me Elvira's room.
P ELAYO. Show me the kitchen,
Or hunger, sir, will be the death of me;
You know I had no supper. All of us
Were horribly put out.
N UÑO. Enter and rest,
So may we all take comfort till the morning.
Don Tello is no wild man.
S ANCHO. Alack! I die of love!
Ah me! I am consumed with jealousy!
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