King.

I:4:37 KING.
Thou'rt mad!
Thou'rt mad!

I:4:38 SOL.
Is he not mine? Thy very hand,
Did it not consecrate our vows? What claim
So sacred as my own?

I:4:39 KING.
He did conspire--

I:4:40 SOL.
'Tis false, thou know'st 'tis false: against themselves
Men do not plot: I would as soon believe
My hand could hatch a treason 'gainst my sight,
As that Alarcos would conspire to seize
A diadem I would myself have placed
Upon his brow.

I:4:41 KING.

[taking her hand]

Nay, calmness. Say 'tis true
He was not guilty, say perchance he was not--

I:4:42 SOL.
Perchance, O! vile perchance. Thou know'st full well,
Because he did reject her loose desires
And wanton overtures--

I:4:43 KING.
Hush, hush, O hush!

I:4:44 SOL.
The woman called my mother--

I:4:45 KING.
Spare me, spare--

I:4:46 SOL.
Who spared me?
Did not I kneel, and vouch his faith, and bathe
Thy hand with my quick tears, and clutch thy robe
With frantic grasp? Spare, spare indeed? In faith
Thou hast taught me to be merciful, thou hast,--
Thou and my mother!

I:4:47 KING.
Ah! no more, no more!
A crowned King cannot recall the past,
And yet may glad the future. She thou namest,
She was at least thy mother; but to me,
Whate'er her deeds, for truly, there were times
Some spirit did possess her, such as gleams
Now in her daughter's eye, she was a passion,
A witching form that did inflame my life
By a breath or glance. Thou art our child; the link
That binds me to my race; thou host her place
Within my shrined heart, where thou'rt the priest
And others are unhallowed; for, indeed,
Passion and time have so dried up my soul,
And d