This Saracenic rent will surely touch
Our turbaned neighbours?
II:4:13 KING.
To the very core,
Granada's all a-mourning. Good, my Lords,
One goblet more. We'll give our cousin's health.
Here's to the Count Alarcos.
II:4:14 OMNES.
To the Count Alarcos.
[The Guests rise, pay their homage to the KING, and are retiring.]
II:4:15 KING.
Good night, Lord Admiral; my Lord of Leon,
My Lord Sidonia, and my Lord of Lara,
Gentle adieus; to you, my Lord, and you,
To all and each. Cousin, good night -- and yet
A moment rest awhile; since your return
I've looked on you in crowds, it may become us
To say farewell alone.
[The KING waves his hand to the SENESCHAL -- the Chamber is cleared.]
II:4:16 ALAR.
Most gracious Sire,
You honour your poor servant.
II:4:17 KING.
Prithee, sit.
This scattering of the Saracen, methinks,
Will hold the Moor to his truce?
II:4:18 ALAR.
It would appear
To have that import.
II:4:19 KING.
Should he pass the mountains,
We can receive him.
II:4:20 ALAR.
Where's the crown in Spain
More prompt and more prepared?
II:4:21 KING.
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