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_ ACT I - SCENE II
A Chamber in the Palace of Alarcos. The COUNTESS seated and
working at her tapestry; the COUNT pacing the Chamber.
COUN.
You are disturbed, Alarcos?
ALAR.
'Tis the stir
And tumult of this morn. I am not used
To Courts.
COUN.
I know not why, it is a name
That makes me tremble.
ALAR.
Tremble, Florimonde,
Why should you tremble?
COUN.
Sooth I cannot say.
Methinks the Court but little suits my kind;
I love our quiet home.
ALAR.
This is our home,
COUN.
When you are here.
ALAR.
I will be always here.
COUN.
Thou canst not, sweet Alarcos. Happy hours,
When we were parted but to hear thy horn
Sound in our native woods!
ALAR.
Why, this is humour!
We're courtiers now; and we must smile and smirk.
COUN.
Methinks your tongue is gayer than your glance.
The King, I hope, was gracious?
ALAR.
Were he not,
My frown's as prompt as his. He was most gracious.
COUN.
Something has chafed thee?
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?
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.
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.
COUN.
Hast thou still foes
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.
COUN.
I do recoil
As from some unknown woo, from this same world.
I thought we came for peace.
ALAR.
Peace dwells within
No lordly roof in Burgos. We have come
For triumph.
COUN.
So I share thy lot, Alarcos,
All feelings are the same.
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?
COUN.
And I hope may never!
ALAR.
And if it come, what then? This chance shall find me
Not unprepared.
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.
ALAR.
So I would deem. I did not speak of fear.
COUN.
Of danger?
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.
COUN.
And can there be such men,
And canst thou live with them?
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.
COUN.
There was a time
Thou didst look back as on a turbulent dream
On this same life.
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!
COUN.
Jesu grant
The lure will bear no harm!
[A trumpet sounds.]
ALAR.
Whose note is that?
I hear the tramp of horsemen in the court;
We have some guests.
COUN.
Indeed!
[Enter the COUNT OF SIDONIA and the COUNT OF LEON.]
ALAR.
My noble friends,
My Countess greets ye!
SIDO.
And indeed we pay
To her our homage.
LEON.
Proud our city boasts
So fair a presence.
COUN.
Count Alarcos' friends
Are ever welcome here.
ALAR.
No common wife.
Who welcomes with a smile her husband's friends.
SIDO.
Indeed a treasure! When I marry, Count,
I'll claim your counsel.
COUN.
'Tis not then your lot?
SIDO.
Not yet, sweet dame; tho' sooth to say, full often
I dream such things may be.
COUN.
Your friend is free?
LEON.
And values freedom: with a rosy chain
I still should feel a captive.
SIDO.
Noble Leon
Is proof against the gentle passion, lady,
And will ere long, my rapier for a gage,
Marry a scold.
LEON.
In Burgos now, methinks,
Marriage is scarce the mode. Our princess frowns,
It seems, upon her suitors.
SIDO.
Is it true
The match is off?
LEON.
'Tis said.
COUN.
The match is off
You did not tell me this strange news, Alarcos.
SIDO.
Did he not tell you how--
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.
SIDO.
Faith, I hold them true.
Indeed they're very rife.
LEON.
Poor man, methinks
His is a lot forlorn, at once to lose
A mistress and a crown!
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.
SIDO.
I would all wives
Hold with your Countess in this pleasing creed.
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.
SIDO.
Ah! you're a traveller, Count.
And yet we have not lagged.
COUN.
The Infanta, sirs,
Was it a kind of swoon?
ALAR.
Old Lara lives
Still in his ancient quarter?
LEON.
With the rats
That share his palace. You spoke, Madam?
COUN.
She
Has dainty health, perhaps?
LEON.
All ladies have.
And yet as little of the fainting mood
As one could fix on--
ALAR.
Mendola left treasure?
SIDO.
Wedges of gold, a chamber of sequins
Sealed up for ages, flocks of Barbary sheep
Might ransom princes, tapestry so rare
The King straight purchased, covering for the price
Each piece with pistoles.
COUN.
Is she very fair
LEON.
As future queens must ever be, and yet
Her face might charm uncrowned.
COUN.
It grieves me much
To hear the Prince departs. 'Tis not the first
Among her suitors
ALAR.
Your good uncle lives--
Nunez de Leon?
LEON.
To my cost, Alarcos;
He owes me much.
SIDO.
Some promises his heir
Would wish fulfilled.
COUN.
In Gascony, they said,
Navarre had sought her hand.
LEON.
He loitered here
But could not pluck the fruit: it was too high.
Sidonia threw him in a tilt one day.
The Infanta has her fancies; unhorsed knights
Count not among them.
[Enter a CHAMBERLAIN who whispers COUNT ALARCOS.]
ALAR.
Urgent, and me alone
Will commune with! A Page! Kind guests, your pardon,
I'll find you here anon. My Florimonde,
Our friends will not desert you, like your spouse.
[Exit ALARCOS.]
COUN.
My Lords, will see our gardens?
SIDO.
We are favoured.
We wait upon your steps.
LEON.
And feel that roses
Will spring beneath them.
COUN.
You are an adept, sir,
In our gay science.
LEON.
Faith, I stole it, lady,
From a loose Troubadour Sidonia keeps
To write his sonnets.
[Exeunt omnes.] _
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