Why dost not smile?

III:2:24 SOL.

I marvel that Alarcos Hath been so mute on this.

III:2:25 KING.

But thou art sure He is most true.

III:2:26 SOL.

Why should I deem him true?

Have I found truth in any? Woe is me, I feel as one quite doomed. I know not why I ever was ill-omened.

III:2:27 KING.

Listen, girl; Probe this same lover to the core; 'tmay be, I think he is, most true; he should be so If there be faith in vows, and men ne'er break The pledge its profits them to keep. And yet--

III:2:28 SOL.

And what?

III:2:29 KING.

To be his Sovereign's cherished friend, And smiled on by the daughter of his King, Why that might profit him, and please so much, His wife's ill humour might be borne withal.

III:2:30 SOL.

You think him false?

III:2:31 KING.

I think he might be true: But when a man's well placed, he loves not change.

[Enter at the back of the Scene Count ALARCOS disguised.

He advances, dropping his Hat and Cloak.]

Ah, gentle cousin, all our thoughts were thine.

III:2:32 ALAR.

I marvel men should think. Lady, I'll hope Thy thoughts are like thyself, most fair.

III:2:33 KING.

Her thoughts Are like her fortunes, lofty, but around The peaks cling vapours.

III:2:34 ALAR.

Eagles live in clouds, And they draw royal breath.

III:2:35 KING.

I'd have her quit, This strange seclusion, cousin. Give thine aid To festive purposes.

III:2:36 ALAR.

A root, an egg, Why there's a feast with a holy mind.

III:2:37 KING.

If ever I find my seat within a hermitage, I'll think the same.

III:2:38 ALAR.

You have built shrines, sweet lady?

III:2:39 SOL.

What then, my lord?

III:2:40 ALAR.

Why then you might be worshipped, If your image were in front; I'd bow down To anything so fair.

III:2:41 KING.

Dost know, my cousin, Who waits me now? The deputies from Murcia.

The realm is ours,

[whispers him]

is thine.

III:2:42 ALAR.

The church has realms Wider than both Castilles. But which of them Will be our lot; that's it.

III:2:43 KING.

Mine own Solisa, They wait me in my cabinet;

[aside to her]

Bethink thee With whom all rests.

[Exit the KING.]

III:2:44 SOL.

You had sport to-day, my lord?

The King was at the chace.

III:2:45 ALAR.

I breathed my barb.

III:2:46 SOL.

They say the chace hath charm to cheer the spirit,

III:2:47 ALAR.

'Tis better than prayers.

III:2:48 SOL.

Indeed, I think I'll hunt.

You and my father seem so pa.s.sing gay.

III:2:49 ALAR.

Why this is no confessional, no shrine Haunted with presaged gloom. I should be gay To look at thee and listen to thy voice; For if fair pictures and sweet sounds enchant The soul of man, that are but artifice, How then am I entranced, this living picture Bright by my side, and listening to this music That nature gave thee. What's eternal life To this inspired mortality! Let priests And pontiffs thunder, still I feel that here Is all my joy.

III:2:50 SOL.