COUNT ALARCOS AND THE INFANTA SOLISA.
Retrayda esta la infanta.”
Now the infanta is retired,
She is retired as wont to be;
She was gloomy and discontented,
For her life pass'd gloomily;
And all the spring of her days is fading-
Swiftly the days of spring-time flee-
The king has not espoused his daughter,
Nor cares about her marriage he:—
To whom shall she unveil her sorrow,
To whom confide her misery?
She thought of summoning the monarch—
He her guide was used to be;
And to confess to him her secret
And her wishes openly.
The king he came when he was summon'd,
Thither came he hastily,
He found her desolate and gloomy,
With her grief in
And her lovely face was shaded
With a dark anxiety;
And the monarch soon discover'd
There was woe and misery. "What is this, belov'd infanta ? Daughter! tell thy griefs to me,
Tell me, tell me all thy sorrows,
Whence this strange despondency?
Tell me when I know thy grievance,
I shall find a remedy."
"Worthy king, 'tis hard to find it,
Remedy is none for me.
When my mother died she left me,
Left me with this charge to thee,
That thou shouldst, good king! betroth me.
At my age 'twas meet for me.-
'Tis with shame that I require it,
Shame that strives with modesty;
But these cares are thine, O monarch!
Cares like these belong to thee!”—
When the king had heard his daughter,
Thus his daughter answer'd he:
"This has been thy fault, infanta !
Thine the fault, and blame not me;
Long ago I had espoused thee
With the Prince of Hungary;
But thou turn'dst away disdainful
From his suppliant embassy.
Here among our Spanish Cortes,
There was no nobility:
There was none in all my kingdom
High enough to wed with thee-
Save alone the Count Alarcos
Soon as your repast is over,
Bid him on his fealty,
Bid him all his vows remember,
All his pledged sincerity;
Tell him of his plighted promise-
Promise never forced by me,-
That he would become my husband,
And that I his wife should be:
I was happy then-and never
From that hour repented me--
If he married with the countess,
'Twas his own foul treachery; When for him I had rejected
The young Prince of Hungary.
And if he espoused the countess,
Let him blame himself-not me!"
Hardly could the shuddering monarch
Check his rising agony;
But his outward thoughts repressing,
Thus he answer'd angrily :—
"Far, far different were the counsels
Which thy mother gave to thee,
And my honour, O infanta!
Thou hast wounded cruelly.
And if this be true, thy honour
Thou hast wreck'd unblushingly;
For the countess lives-thou never,
Never canst espoused be;
Honour, justice, my infanta,
In such nuptials ne'er agree;
Scorn will wait thee, shame attack thee,
Scorn, and shame, and infamy.
Give me counsels, I entreat thee,
Mine avail me not-and she-
She thy mother is departed,
Who was wont to counsel me.".
"I will give thee counsel, monarch!
Let thy guide my counsel be-
Bid the count destroy the countess,—
No one shall suspect 'twas he;
Let it all abroad be bruited
That she died of malady;
Then we may arrange our marriage,
As a thing of novelty:
And, good king! my sacred honour
Shall from every stain be free." So the monarch left the infanta, Not, as wonted-cheerfully ;
But his thoughts were dark and gloomy,
Tortured by anxiety.
With his knights he found Alarcos,
Uttering words of gaiety.
Knights! it is a worthless service,
At a mistress' feet to be;
Love is but an idle shadow,
Love-without fidelity.
I at least can claim the honour
Of affection's constancy.
Faithful when I loved the maiden,
Faithful though my wife she be;
And if then I loved her dearly,
Now she is more dear to me.
Knights! there is one faithful union,
Honest love and memory.”—
Here he saw the king approaching,
And he ended-gallantly
Left the crowd of knights around him,
Bending to the king his knee.
"Count Alarcos," said the monarch,
While he hail'd him courteously,
"Thou must be my guest, Alarcos,
And to-morrow let it be :-
Thou must dine with me to-morrow,-
Give me thy good company."
"Proud and honour'd, I attend thee,
Thanks to thy high majesty ;"-
And the royal hands saluting,
Hail their flattering courtesy.-
"Though I had prepared for travel,
That shall be deferr'd for thee,
Though the countess writes to tell me
That she waits me anxiously."
Morrow came-the king retiring
From the mass's mystery,
Sat him down before his table,-
Little appetite had he;
There he sat in anxious trouble,
Looking round him restlessly.
They were served with pomp and honour, As a mighty king should be:
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