s officiousness, perhaps,
Might give to them----

KING.
What's this? Officiousness,
And meaning! How? But rise.

QUEEN.
Oh no, my husband!
Not till you bind yourself by sacred promise,
By virtue of your own authority,
To find the offender out, and grant redress,
Or else dismiss my suite, which hides a thief.

KING.
But rise! In such a posture! Pray you, rise.

QUEEN (rises).
'Tis some one of distinction--I know well;
My casket held both diamonds and pearls
Of matchless value, but he only took
My letters.

KING.
May I ask----

QUEEN.
Undoubtedly,
My husband. They were letters from the prince:
His miniature as well.

KING.
From whom?

QUEEN.
The prince,
Your son.

KING.
To you?

QUEEN.
Sent by the prince to me.

KING.
What! From Prince Carlos! Do you tell me that?

QUEEN.
Why not tell you, my husband?

KING.
And not blush.

QUEEN.
What mean you? You must surely recollect
The letters Carlos sent me to St. Germains,
With both courts' full consent. Whether that leave
Extended to the portrait, or alone
His hasty hope dictated such a step,
I cannot now pretend to answer; but
If even rash, it may at least be pardoned
For thus much I may be his pledge--that then
He never thought the gift was for his mother.
[Observes the agitation of the KING.
What moves you? What's the matter?

INFANTA (who has found the miniature on the ground, and has been
playing with it, brings it to the QUEEN).
Look, dear mother!
See what a pretty picture!

QUEEN.
What then my----

[She recognizes the miniature, and remains in speechless
astonishment. They both gaze at each other. After a long pause.

In truth, this mode of trying a wife's heart
Is great and royal, sire! But I should wish
To ask one question?

KING.
'Tis for me to question.

QUEEN.
Let my suspicions spare the innocent.
And if by your command this theft was done----

KING.
It was so done!

QUEEN.
Then I have none to blame,
And none to pity--other than yourself--
Since you possess a wife on whom such schemes
Are thrown away.

KING.
This language is not new--
Nor shall you, madam, now again deceive me
As in the gardens of Aranjuez--
My queen of angel purity, who then
So haughtily my accusation spurned--
I know her better now.

QUEEN.