One's enough,
You do not love him. That suffices me.
Now let it pass.
[To her other ladies.
I have not seen the Infanta
Yet this morning. Pray bring her, marchioness.
It is not yet the hour, your majesty.
Not yet the hour for me to be a mother!
That's somewhat hard. Forget not, then, to tell me
When the right hour does come.
[A page enters and whispers to the first lady, who
thereupon turns to the QUEEN.
The Marquis Posa!
May it please your majesty.
The Marquis Posa!
He comes from France, and from the Netherlands,
And craves the honor to present some letters
Intrusted to him by your royal mother.
Is this allowed?
A case so unforeseen
Is not provided for in my instructions.
When a Castilian grandee, with despatches
From foreign courts, shall in her garden find
The Queen of Spain, and tender them —
Enough! I'll venture, then, on mine own proper peril.
May I, your majesty, withdraw the while?
E'en as you please, good duchess!
[Exit the DUCHESS, the QUEEN gives the PAGE a sign, who thereupon retires.
SCENE IV
The QUEEN, PRINCESS EBOLI, MARCHIONESS OF MONDECAR, and MARQUIS OF POSA.
I bid you welcome, sir, to Spanish ground!
Ground which I never with so just a pride
Hailed for the country of my sires as now.
The Marquis Posa, ladies, who at Rheims
Coped with my father in the lists, and made
My colors thrice victorious; the first
That made me feel how proud a thing it was
To be the Queen of Spain and Spanish men.
[Turning to the MARQUIS.
When we last parted in the Louvre, Sir,
You scarcely dreamed that I should ever be
Your hostess in Castile.
Most true, my liege!
For at that time I never could have dreamed
That France should lose to us the only thing
We envied her possessing.
How, proud Spaniard!
The only thing! And you can venture this —
This to a daughter of the house of Valois!
I venture now to say it, gracious queen,
Since now you are our own.
Your journey hither
Has led you, as I hear, through France. What news
Have you brought with you from my honored mother
And from my dearest brothers?
I left your royal mother sick at heart,
Bereft of every joy save only this,
To know her daughter happy on the throne
Of our imperial Spain.
Could she be aught
But happy in the dear remembrances
Of relatives so kind – in the sweet thoughts
Of the old time when – Sir, you've visited
Full many a court in these your various travels,
And seen strange lands and customs manifold;
And now, they say, you mean to keep at home
A greater prince in your retired domain
Than is King Philip on his throne – a freer.
You're a philosopher; but much I doubt
If our Madrid will please you. We are so —
So quiet in Madrid.
And that is more
Than all the rest of Europe has to boast.
I've heard as much. But all this world's concerns
Are well-nigh blotted from my memory.
[To PRINCESS EBOLI.
Princess, methinks I see a hyacinth
Yonder in bloom. Wilt bring it to me, sweet?
[The PRINCESS goes towards the palace, the QUEEN
softly to the MARQUIS.
I'm much mistaken, sir, or your arrival
Has made one heart more happy here at court.
I have found a sad one – one that in this world
A ray of sunshine —
As this gentleman
Has seen so many countries, he, no doubt,
Has much of note to tell us.
Doubtless, and
To seek adventures is a knight's first duty —
But his most sacred is to shield the fair.