OLIVAREZ.
Why, methinks,
Your majesty, since kings have ruled in Spain,
It hath been still the custom for the court
To pass the summer months alternately
Here and at Pardo,—in Madrid, the winter.
QUEEN.
Well, I suppose it has! Duchess, you know
I've long resigned all argument with you.
MONDECAR.
Next month Madrid will be all life and bustle.
They're fitting up the Plaza Mayor now,
And we shall have rare bull-fights; and, besides,
A grand auto da fe is promised us.
QUEEN.
Promised? This from my gentle Mondecar!
MONDECAR.
Why not? 'Tis only heretics they burn!
QUEEN.
I hope my Eboli thinks otherwise!
EBOLI.
What, I? I beg your majesty may think me
As good a Christian as the marchioness.
QUEEN.
Alas! I had forgotten where I am,—
No more of this! We were speaking, I think,
About the country? And methinks this month
Has flown away with strange rapidity.
I counted on much pleasure, very much,
From our retirement here, and yet I have not
Found that which I expected. Is it thus
With all our hopes? And yet I cannot say
One wish of mine is left ungratified.
OLIVAREZ.
You have not told us, Princess Eboli,
If there be hope for Gomez,—and if we may
Expect ere long to greet you as his bride?
QUEEN.
True—thank you, duchess, for reminding me!
[Addressing the PRINCESS.
I have been asked to urge his suit with you.
But can I do it? The man whom I reward
With my sweet Eboli must be a man
Of noble stamp indeed.