Count Alarcos; a Tragedy - novelonlinefull.com
You’re read light novel Count Alarcos; a Tragedy Part 21 online at NovelOnlineFull.com. Please use the follow button to get notification about the latest chapter next time when you visit NovelOnlineFull.com. Use F11 button to read novel in full-screen(PC only). Drop by anytime you want to read free – fast – latest novel. It’s great if you could leave a comment, share your opinion about the new chapters, new novel with others on the internet. We’ll do our best to bring you the finest, latest novel everyday. Enjoy
The moon's a sluggard, I think, to-night. How now, the Moor that dodged My steps at vespers. Hem! I like not this.
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 a.s.sault 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. Thus and thus, I'll teach ye To know your station.
III:3:29 1ST BRAVO.
Ah!
III:3:30 2ND BRAVO.
Away!
III:3:31 3RD BRAVO.
Fly, fly!
III:3:32 4TH BRAVO.
No place for quiet men.
[The BRAVOs run off.]
III:3:33 ALAR.
A little breath Is all they have cost me, tho' their blood has stained My damask blade. And still the Moor! What ho!
Why fliest not like thy mates?
III:3:34 ORAN.
Because I wait To fight.
III:3:35 ALAR.
Rash caitiff! knowest thou who I am?
III:3:36 ORAN.
One who I heard was brave, and now has proved it.
III:3:37 ALAR.
Am I thy foe?
III:3:38 ORAN.
No more than all thy race.
III:3:39 ALAR.
Go, save thy life.
III:3:40 ORAN.
Look to thine own, proud lord.
III:3:41 ALAR.
Perdition catch thy base-born insolence.
[They fight: after a long and severe encounter, ALARCOS disarms ORAN, who falls wounded.]
III:3:42 ORAN.
Be brief, dispatch me.
III:3:43 ALAR.
Not a word for mercy?
III:3:44 ORAN.
Why should'st thou give it?
III:3:45 ALAR.
'Tis not merited, Yet might be gained. Who set thee on to this?
My sword is at thy throat. Give me his name, And thine shall live.
III:3:46 ORAN.
I cannot.
III:3:47 ALAR.
What, is life So light a boon? It hangs upon this point.
Bold Moor, is't then thy love to him who fees thee Makes thee so faithful?
III:3:48 ORAN.
No; I hate him.
III:3:49 ALAR.
What Restrains thee, then?
III:3:50 ORAN.
The feeling that restrained My arm from joining stabbers--Honour.
III:3:51 ALAR.
Humph!
An overseer of stabbers for some ducats.
And is that honour?
