Count Alarcos; a Tragedy. Earl of Beaconsfield Benjamin Disraeli

I:2:27 COUN.

       Of danger?

       I:2:28 ALAR.

       That’s delight, when it may lead

       To mighty ends. Ah, Florimonde! thou art too pure;

       Unsoiled in the rough and miry paths

       Of ibis same trampling world; unskilled in heats

       Of fierce and emulous spirits. There’s a rapture

       In the strife of factions, that a woman’s soul

       Can never reach. Men smiled on me to-day

       Would gladly dig my grave; and yet I smiled,

       And gave them coin as ready as their own,

       And not less base.

       I:2:29 COUN.

       And can there be such men,

       And canst thou live with them?

       I:2:30 ALAR.

       Ay! and they saw

       Me ride this morning in my state again;

       The people cried ‘Alarcos and Castille!’

       The shout will dull their feasts.

       I:2:31 COUN.

       There was a time

       Thou didst look back as on a turbulent dream

       On this same life.

       I:2:32 ALAR.

       I was an exile then.

       This stirring Burgos has revived my vein.

       Yea, as I glanced from off the Citadel

       This very morn, and at my feet outspread

       Its amphitheatre of solemn towers

       And groves of golden pinnacles, and marked

       Turrets of friends and foes; or traced the range,

       Spread since my exile, of our city’s walls

       Washed by the swift Arlanzon: all around

       The flash of lances, blaze of banners, rush

       Of hurrying horsemen, and the haughty blast

       Of the soul-stirring trumpet, I renounced

       My old philosophy, and gazed as gazes

       The falcon on his quarry!

       I:2:33 COUN.

       Jesu grant

       The lure will bear no harm!

       [A trumpet sounds.]

       I:2:34 ALAR.

       Whose note is that?

       I hear the tramp of horsemen in the court;

       We have some guests.

       I:2:35 COUN.

       Indeed!

       [Enter the COUNT OF SIDONIA and the COUNT OF LEON.]

       I:2:36 ALAR.

       My noble friends,

       My Countess greets ye!

       I:2:37 SIDO.

       And indeed we pay

       To her our homage.

       I:2:38 LEON.

       Proud our city boasts

       So fair a presence.

       I:2:39 COUN.

       Count Alarcos’ friends

       Are ever welcome here.

       I:2:40 ALAR.

       No common wife.

       Who welcomes with a smile her husband’s friends.

       I:2:41 SIDO.

       Indeed a treasure! When I marry, Count,

       I’ll claim your counsel.

       I:2:42 COUN.

       ’Tis not then your lot?

       I:2:43 SIDO.

       Not yet, sweet dame; tho’ sooth to say, full often

       I dream such things may be.

       I:2:44 COUN.

       Your friend is free?

       I:2:45 LEON.

       And values freedom: with a rosy chain

       I still should feel a captive.

       I:2:46 SIDO.

       Noble Leon

       Is proof against the gentle passion, lady,

       And will ere long, my rapier for a gage,

       Marry a scold.

       I:2:47 LEON.

       In Burgos now, methinks,

       Marriage is scarce the mode. Our princess frowns,

       It seems, upon her suitors.

       I:2:48 SIDO.

       Is it true

       The match is off?

       I:2:49 LEON.

       ’Tis said.

       I:2:50 COUN.

       The match is off

       You did not tell me this strange news, Alarcos.

       I:2:51 SIDO.

       Did he not tell you how—

       I:2:52 ALAR.

       In truth, good sirs,

       My wife and I are somewhat strangers here,

       And things that are of moment to the minds

       That long have dwelt on them, to us are nought.

       [To the Countess.]

       There was a sort of scene to-day at Court;

       The Princess fainted: we were all dismissed,

       Somewhat abruptly; but, in truth, I deem

       These rumours have no source but in the tongues

       Of curious idlers.

       I:2:53 SIDO.

       Faith, I hold them true.

       Indeed they’re very rife.

       I:2:54 LEON.

       Poor man, methinks

       His is a lot forlorn, at once to lose

       A mistress and a crown!

       I:2:55 COUN.

       Yet both may bring

       Sorrow and cares. But little joy, I ween,

       Dwells with a royal bride, too apt to claim

       The homage she should yield.

       I:2:56 SIDO.

       I would all wives

       Hold with your Countess in this pleasing creed.

       I:2:57 ALAR.

       She has her way: it is a cunning wench

       That knows to wheedle. Burgos still maintains

       Its fame for noble fabrics. Since my time

       The city’s spread.

       I:2:58 SIDO.

       Ah! you’re a traveller, Count.

       And yet we have not lagged.

       I:2:59 COUN.

       The Infanta, sirs,

       Was it a kind of swoon?

       I:2:60 ALAR.

       Old Lara lives

       Still in his ancient quarter?

       I:2:61 LEON.

       With the rats