nd pure?

III:1:39 ALAR.
No saint
More chaste than she. Her consecrated shape
She kept as 'twere a shrine, and just as full
Of holy thoughts; her very breath was incense,
And all her gestures sacred as the forms
Of priestly offices!

III:1:40 PRIOR.
I'll save thy soul.
Thou must repent that one so fair and pure,
And loving thee so well--

III:1:41 ALAR.
Father, in vain.
There is a bar betwixt me and repentance.
And yet--

III:1:42 PRIOR.
Ay, yet--

III:1:43 ALAR.
The day may come, I'll kneel
In such a mood, and might there then be hope?

III:1:44 PRIOR.
We hold the keys that bind and loosen all:
But penitence alone is mercy's portal.
The obdurate soul is doomed. Remorseful tears
Are sinners' sole ablution. O, my son,
Bethink thee yet, to die in sin like thine;
Eternal masses profit not thy soul,
Thy consecrated wealth will but upraise
The monument of thy despair. Once more,
Ere yet the vesper lights shall fade away,
I do adjure thee, on the church's bosom
Pour forth thy contrite heart.

III:1:45 ALAR.
A contrite heart!
A stainless hand would count for more. I see
No drops on mine. My head is weak, my heart
A wilderness of passion. Prayers, thy prayers!

[ALARCOS rises suddenly and exit.]

SCENE 2

Chamber in the Royal Palace.

The INFANTA seated in despondency; the KING standing by her side.

III:2:1 KING.
Indeed, 'tis noticed.

III:2:2 SOL.
Solitude is all
I ask; and is it then so great a boon?

III:2:3 KING.
Nay, solitude's no princely appanage.
Our state's a pedestal, which men have raised
That they may gaze on greatness.

III:2:4 SOL.
A false idol,
And weaker than its worshippers. I've liv