_Man._ Stay. First, this woman, who misled you, Is she your wife?
_Man._ You say she is not your wife. Is then your sin To have leapt the bounds which hold unmarried lovers?
_Pal._ O, father, thou couldst never ask such thing If thou didst know who ’twas. Nay, thou mayst know: ’Twas Manuel’s sister,—Margaret of Palermo.
_Man._ (_partly discovering_). See, I am Manuel. * * * * * * Ay, and so far is well. Now say, did Margaret contrive thy flight? 2300
_Man._ And after followed thee to Monreale? And met thee on the hills?
_Man._ Then tell me now Why hast thou left her?
_Pal._ Why come to me thus? I needed but a priest to comfort me, And show me on death’s road: thou drag’st me back To torture me. Thou canst not understand.
_Man._ Thou ow’st to me more than to any priest, Who for thy sake might hear, to tell me true. Why hast thou left her?
_Pal._ If thou wert a priest, 2310 Then wouldst thou see how well the stalking fiend Snared for my soul. I planned for yesternight To storm the palace: and I had promised Margaret To make no further venture if that failed, But sail with her to Rome and there be married, Using thy interest to reclaim my rank. But on the day I gave that word, my men Were all betrayed, taken, and led to prison. I was with Margaret, as well they knew: My love for her, my shelter at thy house, 2320 My flight permitted, set them on the thought That I had been corrupted, was the traitor. _Fly with me_, then cried Margaret. Ay, the fiend too Said, _Fly: go safe_. I foiled him. I came here. That was my only answer.
_Man._ Stay, while in turn I shew to thee Another tale made of the self-same matter.— A price set on thy head, pursued by justice, Bleeding to death, thou camest to my house 2330 Asking for shelter, begging but for life. I gave it at my risk,—how great that risk I’ll shew thee soon;—there at my house my sister Secretly tended thee, and won thy cure. Thou in return didst, all unknown to me, Obtain her love, and use it to break trust, Flying by stealth at night: and then, being fled, Didst scruple not to use thy flight, to work The very thing for which thy life was owed. Further, when that went wrong, merely for fear 2340 Men should think ill of thee, thou didst desert Her, to whose love was due that thou wert free; Wronging her then again, as me before ...