im to
The turning of the street, and stepped before
To tell you of it.

_Man_. You o'erjoy me.

_Serv_. This, sir, is he.

_Enter_ GONSALVO. DON MANUEL _is running to
embrace him, and stops_.

_Man_.--The captain of the robbers!

_Gons_. As such, indeed, you promised me your
sister.

_Man_. I promised all the interest I should have;
Because I thought, before you came to claim it,
A husband's right would take my title from me.

_Gons_. I come to see if any manly virtue
Can dwell with falsehood: Draw, thou'st injured me.

_Man_. You say already I have done you wrong,
And yet would have me right you by a greater.

_Gons_. Poor abject thing!

_Man_. Who doubts another's courage
Wants it himself; but I, who know my own,
Will not receive a law from you to fight,
Or to forbear: for then I grant your courage
To master mine, when I am forced to do
What of myself I would not.

_Gons_. Your reason?

_Man_. You saved my life.

_Gons_. I'll quit that debt, to be
In a capacity of forcing you
To keep your promise with me; for I come
To learn, your sister is not yet disposed.

_Man_. I've lost all privilege to defend my life;
And, if you take it now, 'tis no new conquest;
Like fish, first taken in a river, then
Bestowed in ponds to catch a second time.

_Gons_. Mark but how partially you plead your
cause,
Pretending breach of honour if you fight,
Yet think it none to violate your word.

_Man_. I cannot give my sister to a robber.

_Gons_. You shall not; I am none, but born of blood
As noble as yourself; my fortunes equal
At least with yours, my reputation yet,
I think, unstained.

_Man_. I wish, sir, it may prove so;
I never had so strong an inclination
To believe any man as you--But yet--

_Gons_. All things shall be so clear, there shall be left
No room for any scruple. I was born
In Seville, of the best house in that city;
My name Gonsalvo de Peralta: Being
A younger brother, 'twas my uncle's care
To take me with him in a voyage to
The Indies, where since dying, he has left me
A fortune not contemptible; returning
From thence with all my wealth in the plate fleet,
A furious storm almost within the port
Of Seville took us, scattered all the navy.
My ship, by the unruly tempest borne
Quite through the Streights, as far as Barcelona,
There first cast anchor; there I stept ashore:
Three days I staid, in which small time I made
A little love, which vanished as it came.

_Man_. But were you not