GIL PEREZ, THE GALLICIAN Essay Example For Students

GIL PEREZ, THE GALLICIAN Essay A monologue from the play by Pedro Calderon de la Barca NOTE: This monologue is reprinted from Eight Dramas of Calderon. Trans. Edward Fitzgerald. London: Macmillan Co., 1906. MANUEL: Listen, Gil.You, I am sure, remember (time and absenceCannot have washed so much from memory)The pleasant time when you were last at Lisbon,And graced my house by making it your home.I need not tell of all we did and talkd,Save what concerns me now; of the fair ladyYou knew me then enamourd of, (how deeplyI need not saybeing a Portuguese,Which saying, all is said)Donna Juana,At whose mere name I tremble, as some seerSmit with the sudden presence of his God.Two years we lived in the securityOf mutual love, with so much jealousy(Without which love is scarcely love at all)As served to freshen up its sleeping surface,But not to stir its depths. Ah, dangerousTo warm the viper, or, for idle sport,Trust to the treacherous seasooner or laterThey turn upon us; so these jealousiesI liked to toy with first turnd upon me;When suddenly a rich young cavalier,Well graced with all that does and ought to please,(For I would not revenge me with my tongueUpon his name, but with my sword in s bl ood,)Demanded her in marriage of her father;Who being poor, and bargains quickly madeTwixt avarice and wealth, quickly agreed.The wedding day drew nigh that was to beThe day of funeral toomixed dance and dirge,And grave the bridal chamber both in one.The guests were met; already night beganLoose the full tide of noisy merriment,When I strode in; straight through the wedding throngUp to the bride and bridegroom where they were,And, seizing her with one hand, with the otherStruck him a corpse; and daring all, to dieFighting, or fighting carry off my prize,Carried her off; lifted her on a horseI had outside; struck spur; and lightning-likeAway, until we reachd the boundaryOf Portugal, and, safe on Spanish ground,At last drew breath and bridle. Then on hither,Where I was sure of refuge in the armsOf my old friend Gil Perez; whom I prayNot so much on the score of an old friendship,So long and warm, but as a fugitiveAsking protection at his generous handsA plea the noble never hear in vai n.Nor for myself alone, but for my ladyWho comes with me, and whom I just have leftUnder the poplars by the river-side,Till I had told my news, and heard your answer.A servant whom we met with on the way,Pointed your house outwhither, travel-tired,Pressd for my life, and deep in love with herI bring, as curst by those I left behind,And trusting him I come to.