Whither his ship was bound, but never came—
Beside the very messenger that brought
The gleam of hope, premised the tragedy—
A little piece of wreck,
That floated to the coast of Spain, and thence
Sent to my hands, with these words scratcht upon ’t—
‘Escaped alive, Alvaro.’
Juan. When was this?
Luis. Oh, months ago, and since no tidings heard,
In spite of all inquiry. But we will hope.