Earl of Beaconsfield Benjamin Disraeli

“ Canst answer that, good Sir? O there are women The world deem mad, or worse, whose life but seems One vile caprice, a freakish thing of whims And restless nothingness; yet if we pierce The soul, may be we’ll touch some cause profound For what seems causeless. Early love despised, Or baffled, which is worse; a faith betrayed, For vanity or lucre; chill regards, Where to gain constant glances we have paid Some fearful forfeit: here are many springs, Unmarked by shallow eyes, and some, or all Of these, or none, may prompt my conduct now— But I’ll not have thy prince. ”

“ I:4:61 KING. Woe is me! The doom Falls on our house. I had this daughter left To lavish all my wealth on and my might. I’ve treasured for her; for her I have slain My thousands, conquered provinces, betrayed, Renewed, and broken faith. She was my joy; She has her mother’s eyes, and when she speaks Her voice is like Brunhalda’s. Cursed hour, That a wild fancy touched her brain to cross All my great hopes! I:4:62 SOL. My father, my dear father, Thou call’dst me fondly, but some moments past, Thy gentle child. I call my saint to witness I would be such. To say I love this man Is shallow phrasing. ”

“ It’s not an oath Vowed in our sunshine ease, that shows a friend; ‘Tis the tempestuous mood like this, that calls For faithful service. V:3:47 ORAN. Hah! the Emir’s blood Cries for this judgment. It was sacred seed. V:3:48 ALAR. It flowed to clear thine honour. Art thou he That honour loved so dearly, that he scorned Betrayal of a foe, although that foe Had changed him to a bravo? V:3:49 ORAN. Let me kiss Thy garment’s hem, and grovel it thy feet— I pray, I supplicate—my lord, my lord— Absolve me from that oath! ”

“ IV:3:12 SIDO. Nay, then. IV:3:13 COUN. Unhand me, Sir! IV:3:14 SIDO. But to embrace this delicate waist. Thou art mine: I’ve sighed and thou hast spurned. What is not yielded In war we capture. Ere a flying hour, Thy hated Burgos vanishes. That voice; What, must I stifle it, who fain would listen For ever to its song? In vain thy cry, For none are here but mine. [Enter ORAN.] IV:3:15 ORAN. Turn, robber, turn— IV:3:16 SIDO. Ah! treason in the camp! Thus to thy heart. [They fight. ORAN beats off SIDONIA, they leave the scene fighting; the COUNTESS swoons.] ”

“ III:1:23 ALAR. ‘Tis torture: fathomless I feel the fell incision. III:1:24 PRIOR. There is a lure Thou dost not own, and yet its awful shade Lowers in the back-ground of thy soul: thy tongue Trifles the church’s ear. Beware, my son, And tamper not with Paradise. III:1:25 ALAR. A breath, A shadow, essence subtler far than love: And yet I loved her, and for love had dared All that I ventured for this twin-born lure Cradled with love, for which I soiled my soul. O, father, it was Power. III:1:26 PRIOR. And this dominion Purchased by thy soul’s mortgage, still is’t thine? ”

“ To be confined In body and in soul; to breathe the air Of dark close streets, and never use one’s tongue But for some measured phrase that hath its bent Well gauged and chartered; to find ready smiles When one is sorrowful, or looks demure When one would laugh outright. Never to be Exact but when dissembling. Is this life? I dread this city. As I passed its gates My litter stumbled, and the children shrieked And clung unto my bosom. Pretty babes! I’ll go to them. O! there is innocence Even in Burgos. [Exit COUNTESS.] SCENE 3 A Chamber in the Royal Palace. The INFANTA SOLISA alone. ”

“ Thou hast no daughter. Ah! thou canst not tell What ‘tis to feel a father’s policy Hath dimmed a child’s career. A child so peerless! Our race, though ever comely, veiled to her. A palm tree in its pride of sunny youth Mates not her symmetry; her step was noticed As strangely stately by her nurse. Dost know, I ever deemed that winning smile of hers Mournful, with all its mirth? But ah! no more A father gossips; nay, my weakness ‘tis not. ‘Tis not with all that I would prattle thus; But you, my cousin, know Solisa well, And once you loved her. ”

“ II:4:29 KING. Thou dost know That Hungary leaves us? II:4:30 ALAR. I was grieved to hear There were some crosses. II:4:31 KING. Truth, I am not grieved. Is it such joy this fair Castillian realm, This glowing flower of Spain, be rudely plucked By a strange hand? To see our chambers filled With foreign losels; our rich fiefs and abbeys The prey of each bold scatterling, that finds No heirship in his country? Have I lived And laboured for this end, to swell the sails Of alien fortunes? O my gentle cousin, There was a time we had far other hopes! I suffer for my deeds. ”

“ I tell thee, tyrant, there’s a power abroad E’en now that crashes thee. The storm that raged Blows from a mystic quarter. ‘Tis the hand Of Allah guides the tempest of this night. V:3:44 ALAR. Thine oath, thine oath! V:3:45 ORAN. Accursed be the hour Thou sparedst my life! V:3:46 ALAR. Thine oath, I claim thine oath. Nay, Moor, what is it? ‘Tis a life, and thou Hast learnt to rate existence at its worth. A life, a woman’s life! Why, sack a town, And thousands die like her. My faithful Oran, Come let me love thee, let me find a friend When friends can prove themselves. ”

“ Why the sin Is in the thought, not in the deed; ‘tis not The body pays the penalty, the soul Must clear that awful scot. What palls my arm? It is not pity; trumpet-tongued ambition Stifles her plaintive voice; it is not love, For that inspires the blow! Art thou Solisa? III:2:70 SOL. I am that luckless maiden whom you love. III:2:71 ALAR. You could lie down and die. Who speaks of death? There is no absolution for self-murder. Why ‘tis the greater sin of the two. ”

“ You have learned and know Too much to spare you from my sight, good Oran. With me at once. IV:2:40 ORAN. ‘Tis urgent; well at once, And I will do good service, or I’ll die. For what is life unless to aid the life Has aided thine? IV:2:41 SIDO. On then; with me no eye Will look with jealousy upon thy step. [Exeunt both.] SCENE 3 A retired spot in the Gardens of the Palace. [Enter the COUNTESS.] IV:3:1 COUN. Is’t guilt, that I thus tremble? Why should I Feel like a sinner? I’ll not dare to meet His flashing eye. O, with what scorn, what hate His lightning glance will wither me. ”

“ When the sere has touched Their flowing locks, they prattle less of death, Perchance think more of it. III:2:6 SOL. Why, what is greatness? Will’t give me love, or faith, or tranquil thoughts? No, no, not even justice. III:2:7 KING. ‘Tis thyself That does thyself injustice. Let the world Have other speculation than the breach Of our unfilled vows. They bear too near And fine affinity to what we would, Ay, what we will. I would not choose this moment, Men brood too curiously upon the cause Of the late rupture, for the cause detected May bar the consequence. ”

“ Solisa, that sweet voice, Why should I pity thee? ‘Tis not my office. Go, go to her that cheered thy loneliness, Thy utter loneliness. And had I none? Had I no pangs of solitude? Exile! O! there were moments I’d have gladly given My crown for banishment. A wounded heart Beats freer in a desert; ‘tis the air Of palaces that chokes it. I:3:46 ALAR. Fate has crossed, Not falsehood, our sweet loves. Our lofty passion Is tainted with no vileness. Memory bears Convulsion, not contempt; no palling sting That waits on base affections. It is something To have loved thee ”

“ 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. ”

“ My head is weak, my heart A wilderness of passion. Prayers, thy prayers! [ALARCOS rises suddenly and exit.] SCENE 2 Chamber in the Royal Palace. The INFANTA seated in despondency; the KING standing by her side. III:2:1 KING. Indeed, ‘tis noticed. III:2:2 SOL. Solitude is all I ask; and is it then so great a boon? III:2:3 KING. Nay, solitude’s no princely appanage. Our state’s a pedestal, which men have raised That they may gaze on greatness. III:2:4 SOL. A false idol, And weaker than its worshippers. I’ve lived To feel my station’s vanity. O, Death, Thou endest all! ”

“ III:1:28 PRIOR. Thine is a fearful deed. III:1:29 ALAR. O, is there mercy? III:1:30 PRIOR. Say, is there penitence? III:1:31 ALAR. How shall I gauge it? What temper of contrition might the church Require from such a sinner? III:1:32 PRIOR. Is’t thy wish, Nay, search the very caverns of thy thought, Is it thy wish this deed were now undone? III:1:33 ALAR. Undone, undone! It is; O, say it were, And what am I? O, father, wer’t not done, I should not be less tortured than I’m now; My life less like a dream of haunting thoughts Tempting to unknown enormities. ”

“ Friends beneath cloaks; they’re wanted. Save you, sir? III:3:24 ORAN. And you, sir? III:3:25 ALAR. Not the first time we have met, Or I’ve no eye for lurkers. III:3:26 ORAN. I have tasted Our common heritage, the air, to-day; And if the selfsame beam warmed both our bloods, What then? III:3:27 ALAR. Why nothing; but the sun has set, And honest men should seek their hearths. III:3:28 ORAN. I wait My friends. [The BRAVOs rush in, and assault COUNT ALARCOS, who, dropping his Cloak, shows his Sword already drawn, and keeps them at bay.] So, so! who plays with princes’ blood? No sport for varlets. ”

“ II:1:9 SIDO. ‘Tis not satiety now makes me sad; So check thy mocking tongue, or cure my cares. II:1:10 LEON. Absence cures love. Be off to Aquitaine. II:1:11 SIDO. I chose a jester for my friend, and feel His value now. II:1:12 LEON. You share the lover’s lot When you desire and you despair. What then? You know right well that woman is but one, Though she take many forms, and can confound The young with subtle aspects. Vanity Is her sole being. Make the myriad vows That passionate fancy prompts. At the next tourney Maintain her colours ‘gainst the two Castilles And Aragon to boot. ”

“ III:2:5 KING. Thou art too young to die, And yet may be too happy. Moody youth Toys in its talk with the dark thought of death, As if to die were but to change a robe. It is their present refuge for all cares And each disaster. ”

“ The visage of a hero Stamped with a martyred end! Thou noble Moor! What if thy fate were mine! Thou art at rest: No dark fulfilment waits o’er thee. The tomb Hath many charms. [The COUNTESS calls.] V:3:68 COUN. Alarcos! V:3:69 ALAR. Ay, anon. Why did she tell me that she lived? Methought It was all past. I came to confront death; And we have met. This sacrificial blood— What, bears it no atonement? ‘Twas an offering Fit for the Gods. [The midnight bell.] She waits me now; her hand Extends a diadem; my achieveless arm Would wither at her scorn. ‘Tis thus, Solisa, I gain thy heart and realm! ”

“ Then advance Ye children of all sorrows, and all sins, Doubts that perplex, and hopes that tantalize, All the wild forms the fiend Temptation takes To tamper with the soul! Come with the care That eats your daily life; come with the thought That is conceived in the noon of night, And makes us stare around us though alone ”

“ The air of cities To unaccustomed lungs is very fatal; Perchance the absence of her accustomed sports, The presence of strange faces, and a longing For those she has been bred among: I’ve known This most pernicious: she might droop and pine, And when they fail, they sink most rapidly. God grant she may not; yet I do remind thee Of this wild chance, when speaking of thy lot. In truth ‘tis sharp, and yet I would not die When Time, the great enchanter, may change all, By bringing somewhat earlier to thy gate A doom that must arrive. ”

“ II:4:42 ALAR. Ah, the world III estimates the truth of any lot. Their speculation is too far and reaches Only externals, they are ever fair. There are vile cankers in your gaudiest flowers, But you must pluck and peer within the leaves To catch the pest. II:4:43 KING. Alas! my gentle cousin, To hear thou hast thy sorrows too, like us, It pains me much, and yet I’ll not believe it, For with so fair a wife— II:4:44 ALAR. Torture me not, Although thou art a King. II:4:45 KING. My gentle cousin, f spoke to solace thee. We all do hear Thou art most favoured in a right fair wife. ”

“ II:3:27 SOL. Sancho shall stay. [Exit PAGE.] I hope, ere long, sweet child, Thou too shalt be a page unto a King. I’m glad Alarcos smiled not overmuch; Your smilers please me not. I love a face Pensive, not sad; for where the mood is thoughtful, The passion is most deep and most refined. Gay tempers bear light hearts—are soonest gained And soonest lost; but he who meditates On his own nature, will as deeply scan The mind he meets, and when he loves, he casts His anchor deep. ”

“ Faith! his voice is sweet. II:2:12 COUN. Would that he had not sung! It is a sport In which I find no pastime. II:2:13 ALAR. Marry, come, It gives me great delight. ‘Tis well for thee, On thy first entrance to our world, to find So high a follower. II:2:14 COUN. Wherefore should I need His following? II:2:15 ALAR. Nought’s more excellent for woman, Than to be fixed on as the cynosure Of one whom all do gaze on. ‘Tis a stamp Whose currency, not wealth, rank, blood, can match; These are raw ingots, till they are impressed With fashion’s picture. ”

“ To counsel and to soothe, I sit within this chair. [ALARCOS advances and kneels by the Confessional.] III:1:3 ALAR. O, holy father My soul is burthened with a crime. III:1:4 PRIOR. My son, The church awaits thy sin. III:1:5 ALAR. It is a sin Most black and terrible. Prepare thine ear For what must make it tremble. III:1:6 PRIOR. Thou dost speak To Power above all passion, not to man. III:1:7 ALAR. There was a lady, father, whom I loved, And with a holy love, and she loved me As holily. Our vows were blessed, if favour Hang on a father’s benediction. ”