KING. Nay, to Alarcos, friend.
We're for the border, for the war, and so
Make ready only what we need the most.
For in Toledo four eyes threaten me;
Two full of tears, the other two, of fire.
She would not leave my picture here behind,
And bade defiance unto death itself.
And yet there needed but my stern command
To make her put it back where it belonged.
She tried her actress arts on me, that's all;
But did she put it in the frame again?
Since I am leaving here for many moons
Let all be undisturbed as 'twas before;
Of this affair let every trace be gone.
[He goes into the ante-chamber. A pause as one of the servants takes up from the chair the clothes which RACHEL had worn, but holds the crown in his hand. The KING comes back holding RACHEL'S picture.]
KING. My picture gone—and this one in its place!
It is her own, and burns within my hand—
(Throwing the picture on the floor.)
Avaunt! Avaunt! Can boldness go so far?
This may not be, for while I think of her
With just repugnance, this her painted image
Stirs up the burning passion in my breast.
Then, too, within her hands my picture rests!
They talk of magic, unallowèd arts,
Which this folk practises with such-like things
And something as of magic o'er me comes—
(To the servant.)
Here, pick this up and spur thee on until
Thou overtake them.
SERVANT. Whom, my liege?
KING. Whom? Whom?
The girls of course, I mean, and Garceran;
Return this picture to the girls and ask—
SERVANT. What, Sire?