University of Virginia Library

SCENE II.

—A CHAMBER IN THE ARCHBISHOP OF SEVILLE'S PALACE.
The King discovered.
KING.
'Tis not in nature to outgo conceit;
Yet have mine eyes this very day beheld
That which no fancy ever yet did parallel,
Though 'twere the rarest weaving poet's brain
Was ever loom to. Excellent perfection!
That did outshine things brightest at their noon.
The pomp and glittering pride of glowing rubies
Look'd pale by the living colour of her blood,
And, with a glory that outfaced the sun,
Her eyes at mid-day shone like undimmed stars.
Enter Arias.
Ho! welcome, Cousin! welcome, my good Arias!
Answer me briefly, as I question thee.
Didst mark in the high street, as we rode along
This morning, at her balcony, a lady?

ARIAS.
I did.

KING.
Dost know her name?

ARIAS.
I do.

KING.
Estrella?

ARIAS.
The same.

KING.
Dost know her brother, Pedro de Roella?

ARIAS.
I do.

KING.
I love that lady well?

ARIAS.
May 't please you, sir,
Is that a question?

KING.
Psha! ay, a score in one.
How is she to be begged, bought, stolen, wooed, won—
How can I make her mine?

ARIAS.
Sir, you can marry her.

KING.
Marry her, good sooth! That's news. Can I do so?
It is not yet the time of life with me
When I can squeeze myself into the compass
Of that same narrow gold eternity
We wed withal. Come, come, to thy inventions.
I'd give thee a second cousin like thyself,
Born all as out of rule, and make him a duke
Or prince, or perhaps a bishop—

ARIAS.
Please your grace,
There is a sin of which I would forewarn you—
Incontinence, great sir, 's a deadly sin
For which, I take it, we shall make dear account
In flesh and spirit, or I'm ill informed;
And, sir, there is a virtue, christened continence,
Which, like a precious carbuncle, outshines
All other excellencies.

KING.
What's in the moon! art mad!
Sure, thou'st been bit by some half-frozen novice!

ARIAS.
Oh sir! modesty—'tis a sweet-favour'd quality;
And soberness, and temperance, and chastity,
Three goodlier graces than the heathen Venus
Did e'er, in Cyprian groves, disport her with.

KING.
Hark thee, my cousin! thou art out of tune
With my humour, and I counsel thee
To wind thy jangling strings to a better pitch,
Lest we make discord presently, my cousin.
What holy devil art thou plagued withal?
We'll have thee exorcised.

ARIAS.
By black-eyed, laughing saints
Then let it be, my liege! and let them pour
Wine over me instead of the bless'd stream
In the abbey fount:—ha! ha! ha!—oh! my liege,
Did I not do it well? for all the world,
Like a withered abbess who has left all sin,
When sin, forsooth, will have no more of her.

KING.
Too well; for I would now lose not an instant
In the furthering of my wishes; tell me, Arias,
How can I compass my desire?

ARIAS.
Her brother—
Is there no jewelled collar-gilded office—
No bribe of state to muzzle him withal?

KING.
Trust me, I do not think he's such a one
As can be so tied up; there's a cold bearing,
And grave, severe aspect about the man,
That made my spirit pay him such respect
As though he dwelt 'neath age's silvery penthouse,
Despite his unripe years.

ARIAS.
Not to be bought!
That's strange, and much confounds me; 'tisn't in
The line of march I am accustom'd to.
Not to be bribed! Perhaps the lady, sir,
May be as incorruptible as he,
And then our labour's lost i' the hoped-for issue.

KING.
All women have their prices; be 't in gold,
In honours, titles, jewels, gay apparel,
Or in commodities than these less solid,
Flattery, and the light breath of words persuasive.
Do thou but find the means to approach the fortress,
My crown against a straw, it proves no Troy.
There may be one, among ten thousand men,
That would not sell his honour; but the world
Holds not, nor ever did, nor ever will,
A woman framed so hard, impenetrable.
How can we meet?

ARIAS.
Ay, how—when—where—but soft,
I've found it; 'tis an excellent device,
And needs but secresy, and a good wit;
The lady's brother comes to-night to the banquet
Whilst she holds lonely state at home.

KING.
What thence?

ARIAS.
Say that the dance should heat your grace too much;
Some sudden mist, or heady dizziness,
From the quick action of the blood sent up
To the clear brain, infecting it with heaviness,
Might furnish you with reasons to withdraw.
Leave me director of the royal revel,
And while I keep all hearts afloat with mirth,—
Soft music, banqueting, and all delights—
You know the lady's house?

KING.
Oh! on my soul
It shall be thus—but lest on my departure
The feast grow tame, and others should be gone,—
For where the leader moves, the blind herd follow—

ARIAS.
Leave that to me; your highness shall be troubled
With no companion through the streets to-night:
If but one sleepy guest do stir towards home
Till you are to your palace walls returned,
Ne'er trust me for a witless blunderer.

KING.
If this attempt do reach the wish'd-for end,
Be sure thou shalt know something of my joy.
In tokens that shall best become thy zeal,
And the surpassing prize I venture for.

[Exeunt.