Count Alarcos; a Tragedy Part 33

V:2:46 SOL.

The mind grows dull, Dwelling on method of its deeds too long.

Our schemes should brood as gradual as the storm; Their acting should be lightning. How far is't?

V:2:47 ALAR.

An hour.

V:2:48 SOL.

Why it wants two to midnight yet.

O could I see thee but re-enter here, Ere yet the midnight clock strikes on my heart The languish of new hours--I'd not ask thee Why I had missed the mien, that draws to it ever My constant glance. There'd need no speech between us; For I should meet--my husband.

V:2:49 ALAR.

'Tis the burthen Of this unfilled doom weighs on my spirit.

Why am I here? My heart and face but mar This festive hall. To-night, why not to-night?

The night will soon have past: then 'twill be done.

We'll meet again to-night.

[Exit ALARCOS.]

SCENE 3

A Hall in the Castle of ALARCOS; in the back of the Scene a door leading to another Apartment.

V:3:1 ORAN.

Reveal the future, lightnings! Then I'd hail That arrowy flash. O darker than the storm Cowed as the beasts now crouching in their caves, Is my sad soul. Impending o'er this house, I feel some bursting fate, my doomed arm In vain would ward,

[Enter a MAN AT ARMS.]

How now, hast left thy post?

V:3:2 MAN.

O worthy Castellan, the lightnings play Upon our turrets, that no human step Can keep the watch. Each forky flash seems missioned To scathe our roof, and the whole platform flows With a blue sea of flame.

V:3:3 ORAN.

It is thy post.

No peril clears desertion. To thy post.

Mark me, my step will be as prompt as thine; I will relieve thee.

[Exit MAN AT ARMS.]

Let the mischievous fire Wither this head. O Allah! grant no fate More dire awaits me.

[Enter the COUNT ALARCOS.]

Hah! the Count! My lord, In such a night!

V:3:4 ALAR.

A night that's not so wild As this tempestuous breast. How is she, Oran?

V:3:5 ORAN.

Well.

V:3:6 ALAR.

Ever well.

V:3:7 ORAN.

The children--

V:3:8 ALAR.

Wine, I'm wearied, The lightning scared my horse; he's galled my arm.

Get me some wine.

[Exit ORAN.]

The storm was not to stop me.

The mind intent construes each natural act To a personal bias, and so catches judgments In every common course. In truth the flash, Though it seemed opening h.e.l.l, was not so dreadful As that wild glaring hall.

[Re-enter ORAN with a goblet and flagon.]

Ah! this re-mans me!

I think the storm has lulled. Another cup.

Go see, good Oran, how the tempest speeds.

[Exit ORAN.]

An hour ago I did not dare to think I'd drink wine more.

[Re-enter ORAN.]

V:3:9 ORAN.

The storm indeed has lulled As by a miracle; the sky is clear, There's not a breath of air; and from the turret I heard the bell of Huelgas.

V:3:10 ALAR.

Then 'twas nothing.

My spirit vaults! Oran, thou dost remember The night that we first met?

V:3:11 ORAN.

'Tis graven deep Upon my heart.

V:3:12 ALAR.

I think thou lov'st me, Oran?

V:3:13 ORAN.

And all thy house.