My pleasure and his conduct jar; his fate
Baulks our desire. He's married and has heirs.

I:4:54 SOL.
Heirs, didst thou say heirs?

I:4:55 KING.
What ails thee?

I:4:56 SOL.
Heirs, heirs?

I:4:57 KING.
Thou art very pale!

I:4:58 SOL.
The faintness of the morn
Clings to me still; I pray thee, father, grant
Thy child one easy boon.

I:4:59 KING.
She has to speak
But what she wills.

I:4:60 SOL.
Why, then, she would renounce
Her heritage; yes, place our ancient crown
On brows it may become. A veil more suits
This feminine brain; in Huelgas' cloistered shades
I'll find oblivion.

I:4:61 KING.
Woe is me! The doom
Falls on our house. I had this daughter left
To lavish all my wealth on and my might.
I've treasured for her; for her I have slain
My thousands, conquered provinces, betrayed,
Renewed, and broken faith. She was my joy;
She has her mother's eyes, and when she speaks
Her voice is like Brunhalda's. Cursed hour,
That a wild fancy touched her brain to cross
All my great hopes!

I:4:62 SOL.
My father, my dear father,
Thou call'dst me fondly, but some moments past,
Thy gentle child. I call my saint to witness
I would be such. To say I love this man
Is shallow phrasing. Since man's image first
Flung its wild shadow on my virgin soul,
It has borne no other reflex. I know well
Thou deemest he was forgotten; this day's passion
Passed as unused confrontment, and so transient
As it was turbulent. No, no, full oft,
When thinking on him, I have been the same.
Fruitless or barren, this same form is his,
Or it is God's. My father, my dear father,
Remember he was mine, and thou didst pour
Thy blessing