V:2:18 2ND GUEST.

What he so rich?

V:2:19 1ST GUEST.

The same.

V:2:20 2ND GUEST.

The Lara smiles on him.

V:2:21 1ST GUEST.

No worthier quarry

V:2:22 3RD GUEST.

Who has the vacant Mastership?

V:2:23 4TH GUEST.

I'll back The Count of Leon.

V:2:24 3RD GUEST.

Likely; he stands well With the Lord Admiral.

[They move away.]

[The Counts of SIDONIA and LEON come forward.]

V:2:25 LEON.

Doubt as you like, Credulity will come, and in good season.

V:2:26 SIDO.

She is not here that would confirm your tale.

V:2:27 LEON.

'Tis history, my Sidonia. Strange events Have happened, stranger come.

V:2:28 SIDO.

I'll not believe it.

And favoured by the King! What can it mean?

V:2:29 LEON.

What no one dares to say.

V:2:30 SIDO.

A clear divorce.

O that accursed garden! But for that--

V:2:31 LEON.

'Twas not my counsel. Now I'd give a purse To wash good Oran in Arlanzon's wave; The dusk dog needs a cleansing.

V:2:32 SIDO.

Hush! here comes Alarcos and the King.

[They retire: the KING and COUNT ALARCOS advance.]

V:2:33 KING.

Solisa looks A Queen.

V:2:34 ALAR.

The mirror of her earliest youth Ne'er shadowed her so fair!

V:2:35 KING.

I am young again, Myself to-night. It quickens my old blood To see my n.o.bles round me. This goes well.

'Tis Courts like these that make a King feel proud.

Thy future subjects, cousin.

V:2:36 ALAR.

Gracious Sire, I would be one.

V:2:37 KING.

Our past seclusion lends A l.u.s.tre to this revel.

[The KING approaches the Count of LEON; SOLISA advances to ALARCOS.]

V:2:38 SOL.

Why art thou grave?

I came to bid thee smile. In truth, to-night I feel a lightness of the heart to me Hath long been strange.

V:2:39 ALAR.

'Tis pa.s.sion makes me grave.

I muse upon thy beauty. Thus I'd read My oppressed spirit, for in truth these sounds Jar on my humour.

V:2:40 SOL.

Now my brain is vivid With wild and blissful images. Canst guess What laughing thought unbidden, but resistless, Plays o'er my mind to-night? Thou canst not guess: Meseems it is our bridal night.

V:2:41 ALAR.

Thy fancy Outruns the truth but scantly.

V:2:42 SOL.

Not a breath.

Our long-vexed destinies--even now their streams Blend in one tide. It is the hour, Alarcos: There is a spirit whispering in my ear, The hour is come. I would I were a man But for a rapid hour. Should I rest here, Prattling with gladsome revellers, when time, Steered by my hand, might bring me to a port I long had sighed to enter? But, alas!

These are a woman's thoughts.

V:2:43 ALAR.

And yet I share them.

V:2:44 SOL.

Why not to-night? Now, when our hearts are high, Our fancies glowing, pulses fit for kings, And the whole frame and spirit of the man Prepared for daring deeds?

V:2:45 ALAR.

And were it done-- Why then 'twere not to do.