A mighty secret labours in my soul,
And, like a rushing stream, breaks down the dam;
This day must give it vent. It rests in you
To make it end in a tempestuous night,
Or in a glorious evening.
Vera. No more preface.
Xim. You wonder at Alphonso's haughty carriage,
His fiery temper, and his awless mind.
Vera. Too true, Ximena.
Xim. And he wonders more