Earl Henry. Deserve my thanks, Friend! In the sunshine
of Court-favor I could only believe that I loved my Queen and
my Country: now I know it. But why name I my Country or
my Sovereign? I owe all my Wrongs to the private enmity of 15
the Chancellor.
Sandoval. Heaven be praised, you have atchieved [sic]
a delicious revenge upon him!—that the same Courier who
brought the orders for your recall carried back with him the
first tidings of your Victory—it was exquisite good fortune! 20
Earl Henry. Sandoval! my gallant Friend! Let me not
deceive you. To you I have vowed an undisguised openness.
The gloom which overcast me, was occasioned by causes of less
public import.
Sandoval. Connected, I presume, with that Mansion, the 25
spacious pleasure grounds of which we noticed as we were
descending from the mountain. Lawn and Grove, River and
Hillock—it looked within these high walls, like a World of
itself.
Earl Henry. This Wood scarcely conceals these high walls 30
from us. Alas! I know the place too well. . . . Nay, why too
well?—But wherefore spake you, Sandoval, of this Mansion?
What know you?
Sandoval. Nothing. Therefore I spake of it. On our descent
from the mountain I pointed it out to you and asked to whom 35
it belonged—you became suddenly absent, and answered me
only by looks of Disturbance and Anxiety.
Earl Henry. That Mansion once belonged to Manric [sic],
Lord of Valdez.
Sandoval. Alas, poor Man! the same, who had dangerous 40
claims to the Throne of Navarre.
Earl Henry. Claims?—Say rather, pretensions—plausible
only to the unreasoning Multitude.
Sandoval. Pretensions then (with bitterness).