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Disraeli, Benjamin, Earl of Beaconsfield, 1804-1881

"Count Alarcos; a Tragedy"


I:2:29 COUN.
And can there be such men,
And canst thou live with them?
I:2:30 ALAR.
Ay! and they saw
Me ride this morning in my state again;
The people cried 'Alarcos and Castille!'
The shout will dull their feasts.
I:2:31 COUN.
There was a time
Thou didst look back as on a turbulent dream
On this same life.
I:2:32 ALAR.
I was an exile then.
This stirring Burgos has revived my vein.
Yea, as I glanced from off the Citadel
This very morn, and at my feet outspread
Its amphitheatre of solemn towers
And groves of golden pinnacles, and marked
Turrets of friends and foes; or traced the range,
Spread since my exile, of our city's walls
Washed by the swift Arlanzon: all around
The flash of lances, blaze of banners, rush
Of hurrying horsemen, and the haughty blast
Of the soul-stirring trumpet, I renounced
My old philosophy, and gazed as gazes
The falcon on his quarry!
I:2:33 COUN.
Jesu grant
The lure will bear no harm!
[A trumpet sounds.]
I:2:34 ALAR.
Whose note is that?
I hear the tramp of horsemen in the court;
We have some guests.


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