II:4:53 KING.

And my daughter too!

O most unhappy pair!

II:4:54 ALAR.

There is a way.

To cure such woes, one only.

II:4:55 KING.

'Tis my thought.

II:4:56 ALAR.

No cloister shall entomb this life; the grave Shall be my refuge,

II:4:57 KING.

Yet to die were witless, When Death, who with his fatal finger taps At princely doors, as freely as he gives His summons to the serf, may at this instant Have sealed the only life that throws a shade Between us and the sun.

II:4:58 ALAR.

She's very young.

II:4:59 KING.

And may live long, as I do hope she will; Yet have I known as blooming as she die, And that most suddenly. The air of cities To unaccustomed lungs is very fatal; Perchance the absence of her accustomed sports, The presence of strange faces, and a longing For those she has been bred among: I've known This most pernicious: she might droop and pine, And when they fail, they sink most rapidly.

G.o.d grant she may not; yet I do remind thee Of this wild chance, when speaking of thy lot.

In truth 'tis sharp, and yet I would not die When Time, the great enchanter, may change all, By bringing somewhat earlier to thy gate A doom that must arrive.

II:4:60 ALAR.

Would it were there!

II:4:61 KING.

'Twould be the day thy hand should clasp my daughter's, That thou hast loved so Ion; 'twould be the day My crown, the crown of all my realms, Alarcos, Should bind thy royal brow. Is this the morn Breaks in our chamber? Why, I did but mean To say good night unto my gentle cousin So long unseen. O, we have gossiped, coz, So cheering dreams!

[Exeunt.]

END OF THE SECOND ACT.

ACT III

SCENE 1

Interior of the Cathedral of Burgos.

The High Altar illuminated; in the distance, various Chapels lighted, and in each of which Ma.s.s is celebrating: in all directions groups of kneeling Worshippers.

Before the High Altar the Prior of Burgos officiates, attended by his Sacerdotal Retinue.

In the front of the Stage, opposite to the Audience, a Confessional.

The chanting of a solemn Ma.s.s here commences; as it ceases,

[Enter ALARCOS.]

III:1:1 ALAR.

Would it were done! and yet I dare not say It should be done. O, that some natural cause, Or superhuman agent, would step in, And save me from its practice! Will no pest Descend upon her blood? Must thousands die Daily, and her charmed life be spared? As young Are hourly plucked from out their hearths. A life!

Why, what's a life? A loan that must return To a capricious creditor; recalled Often as soon as lent. I'd wager mine To-morrow like the dice, were my blood p.r.i.c.ked.

Yet now, When all that endows life with all its price, Hangs on some flickering breath I could puff out, I stand agape. I'll dream 'tis done: what then?

Mercy remains? For ever, not for ever I charge my soul? Will no contrition ransom, Or expiatory torments compensate The awful penalty? Ye kneeling worshippers, That gaze in silent ecstacy before Yon flaming altar, you come here to bow Before a G.o.d of mercy. Is't not so?

[ALARCOS walks towards the High Altar and kneels.]

[A Procession advances front the back of the Scene, singing a solemn Ma.s.s, and preceding the Prior of Burgos, who seats himself in the Confessional his Train filing of on each side of the Scene: the lights of the High Altar are extinguished, but the Chapels remain illuminated.]

III:1:2 THE PRIOR.

Within this chair I sit, and hold the keys That open realms no conqueror can subdue, And where the monarchs of the earth must fain Solicit to be subjects: Heaven and Hades, Lands of Immortal light and sh.o.r.es of gloom.

Eternal as the chorus of their wail, And the dim isthmus of that middle s.p.a.ce, Where the compa.s.sioned soul may purge its sins In pious expiation. Then advance Ye children of all sorrows, and all sins, Doubts that perplex, and hopes that tantalize, All the wild forms the fiend Temptation takes To tamper with the soul! Come with the care That eats your daily life; come with the thought That is conceived in the noon of night, And makes us stare around us though alone; Come with the engendering sin, and with the crime That is full-born. To counsel and to soothe, I sit within this chair.

[ALARCOS advances and kneels by the Confessional.]

III:1:3 ALAR.

O, holy father My soul is burthened with a crime.

III:1:4 PRIOR.

My son, The church awaits thy sin.

III:1:5 ALAR.

It is a sin Most black and terrible. Prepare thine ear For what must make it tremble.

III:1:6 PRIOR.

Thou dost speak To Power above all pa.s.sion, not to man.

III:1:7 ALAR.

There was a lady, father, whom I loved, And with a holy love, and she loved me As holily. Our vows were blessed, if favour Hang on a father's benediction.

III:1:8 PRIOR.

Her Mother?

III:1:9 ALAR.

She had a mother, if to bear Children be all that makes a mother: one Who looked on me, about to be her child, With eyes of l.u.s.t.

III:1:10 PRIOR.

And thou?

III:1:11 ALAR.

O, if to trace But with the memory's too veracious aid This tale be anguish, what must be its life And terrible action? Father, I abjured This lewd she-wolf. But ah! her fatal vengeance Struck to my heart. A banished scatterling I wandered on the earth.

III:1:12 PRIOR.

Thou didst return?