Count Alarcos; a Tragedy. Earl of Beaconsfield Benjamin Disraeli

1ST COURT.

       Hush! hush! a passenger.

       I:1:16 PAGE.

       Most noble Cavaliers, I pray, inform me

       Where the great Count Alarcos holds his quarter.

       I:1:17 2ND COURT.

       In the chief square. His banner tells the roof;

       Your pleasure with the Count, my gentle youth?

       I:1:18 PAGE.

       I were a sorry messenger to tell

       My mission to the first who asks its aim.

       I:1:19 2ND COURT.

       The Count Alarcos is my friend and chief.

       I:1:20 PAGE.

       Then better reason I should trusty be,

       For you can be a witness to my trust.

       I:1:21 1ST COURT.

       A forward youth!

       I:1:22 2ND COURT.

       A page is ever pert

       I:1:23 PAGE.

       Ay! ever pert is youth that baffles age.

       [Exit PAGE.]

       I:1:24 1ST COURT.

       The Count is married?

       I:1:25 2ND COURT.

       To a beauteous lady;

       And blessed with a fair race. A happy man

       Indeed is Count Alarcos.

       [A trumpet sounds.]

       I:1:26 1ST COURT.

       Prithee, see;

       Passes he now?

       I:1:27 2ND COURT.

       Long since. Yon banner tells

       The Count Sidonia. Let us on, and view

       The passage of his pomp. His Moorish steeds,

       They say, are very choice.

       [Exeunt Two Courtiers.]

      SCENE 2.

      A Chamber in the Palace of Alarcos. The COUNTESS seated and

       working at her tapestry; the COUNT pacing the Chamber.

      I:2:1 COUN.

       You are disturbed, Alarcos?

       I:2:2 ALAR.

       ’Tis the stir

       And tumult of this morn. I am not used

       To Courts.

       I:2:3 COUN.

       I know not why, it is a name

       That makes me tremble.

       I:2:4 ALAR.

       Tremble, Florimonde,

       Why should you tremble?

       I:2:5 COUN.

       Sooth I cannot say.

       Methinks the Court but little suits my kind;

       I love our quiet home.

       I:2:6 ALAR.

       This is our home,

       I:2:7 COUN.

       When you are here.

       I:2:8 ALAR.

       I will be always here.

       I:2:9 COUN.

       Thou canst not, sweet Alarcos. Happy hours,

       When we were parted but to hear thy horn

       Sound in our native woods!

       I:2:10 ALAR.

       Why, this is humour!

       We’re courtiers now; and we must smile and smirk.

       I:2:11 COUN.

       Methinks your tongue is gayer than your glance.

       The King, I hope, was gracious?

       I:2:12 ALAR.

       Were he not,

       My frown’s as prompt as his. He was most gracious.

       I:2:13 COUN.

       Something has chafed thee?

       I:2:14 ALAR.

       What should chafe me, child,

       And when should hearts be light, if mine be dull?

       Is not mine exile over? Is it nought

       To breathe in the same house where we were born,

       And sleep where slept our fathers? Should that chafe?

       I:2:15 COUN.

       Yet didst then leave my side this very morn,

       And with a vow this day should ever count

       Amid thy life most happy; when we meet

       Thy brow is clouded.

       I:2:16 ALAR.

       Joy is sometimes grave,

       And deepest when ’tis calm. And I am joyful

       If it be joy, this long forbidden hall

       Once more to pace, and feel each fearless step

       Tread on a baffled foe.

       I:2:17 COUN.

       Hast thou still foes

       I:2:18 ALAR.

       I trust so; I should not be what I am,

       Still less what I will be, if hate did not

       Pursue me as my shadow. Ah! fair wife,

       Thou knowest not Burgos. Thou hast yet to fathom

       The depths of thy new world.

       I:2:19 COUN.

       I do recoil

       As from some unknown woo, from this same world.

       I thought we came for peace.

       I:2:20 ALAR.

       Peace dwells within

       No lordly roof in Burgos. We have come

       For triumph.

       I:2:21 COUN.

       So I share thy lot, Alarcos,

       All feelings are the same.

       I:2:22 ALAR.

       My Florimonde,

       I took thee from a fair and pleasant home

       In a soft land, where, like the air they live in,

       Men’s hearts are mild. This proud and fierce Castille

       Resembles not thy gentle Aquitaine,

       More than the eagle may a dove, and yet

       It is my country. Danger in its bounds

       Weighs more than foreign safety. But why speak

       Of what exists not?

       I:2:23 COUN.

       And I hope may never!

       I:2:24 ALAR.

       And if it come, what then? This chance shall find me

       Not unprepared.

       I:2:25 COUN.

       But why should there be danger?

       And why should’st thou, the foremost prince of Spain,

       Fear or make foes? Thou standest in no light

       Would fall on other shoulders; thou hast no height

       To climb, and nought to gain. Thou art complete;

       The King alone above thee, and thy friend.

       I:2:26 ALAR.

       So I would