s! Duke! I need you now
No longer. Leave us.

[ALVA and DOMINGO look at each other with silent
astonishment and retire.

SCENE XII.

The KING, and MARQUIS POSA.

MARQUIS.
That old soldier, sire,
Who has faced death, in twenty battles, for you,
Must hold it thankless to be so dismissed.

KING.
'Tis thus for you to think--for me to act;
In a few hours you have been more to me
Than that man in a lifetime. Nor shall I
Keep my content a secret. On your brow
The lustre of my high and royal favor
Shall shine resplendent--I will make that man
A mark for envy whom I choose my friend.

MARQUIS.
What if the veil of dark obscurity
Were his sole claim to merit such a title?

KING.
What come you now to tell me?

MARQUIS.
As I passed
Along the antechamber a dread rumor
Fell on my ear,--it seemed incredible,--
Of a most angry quarrel--blood--the queen----

KING.
Come you from her?

MARQUIS.
I should be horrified
Were not the rumor false: or should perhaps
Your majesty meantime have done some act--
Discoveries of importance I have made,
Which wholly change the aspect of affairs.

KING.
How now?

MARQUIS.
I found an opportunity
To seize your son's portfolio, with his letters,
Which, as I hope, may throw some light----

[He gives the PRINCE's portfolio to the KING.

KING (looks through it eagerly).
A letter
From the emperor, my father. How I a letter
Of which I ne'er remember to have heard.

[He reads it through, puts it aside, and goes
to the other papers.

A drawing of some fortress--detached thoughts
From Tacitus--and what is here? The hand
I surely recognize--it is a lady's.

[He reads it attentively, partly to himself,
and partly aloud.

"This key--the farthest chamber of the queen's
Pavilion!" Ha! what's this? "The voice of love,--
The timid lover--may--a rich reward."
Satanic treachery! I see it now.
'Tis she--'tis her own writing!

MARQUIS.
The queen's writing!
Impossible!

KING.
The Princess Eboli's.

MARQUIS.
Then, it was true, what the queen's page confessed,
Not long since--that he brought this key and letter.

KING (grasping the MARQUIS' hand in great emotion).
Marquis! I see that I'm in dreadful hands.
This woman--I confess it--'twas this woman
Forced the queen's casket: and my first suspicions
Were breathed by her. Who knows how deep the priest
May be enga