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Disraeli, Benjamin, Earl of Beaconsfield, 1804-1881

"Count Alarcos; a Tragedy"


V:3:10 ALAR.
Then 'twas nothing.
My spirit vaults! Oran, thou dost remember
The night that we first met?
V:3:11 ORAN.
'Tis graven deep
Upon my heart.
V:3:12 ALAR.
I think thou lov'st me, Oran?
V:3:13 ORAN.
And all thy house.
V:3:14 ALAR.
Nay, thou shalt love but me.
I'll no divisions in the hearts that are mine.
V:3:15 ORAN.
I have no love but that which knits me to thee
With deeper love.
V:3:16 ALAR.
I found thee, Oran, what --
I will not say. And now thou art, good Oran,
A Prince's Castellan.
V:3:17 ORAN.
I feel thy bounty.
V:3:18 ALAR.
Thou shalt be more. But serve me as I would,
And thou shalt name thy meed.
V:3:19 ORAN.
To serve my lord
Is my sufficient meed.
V:3:20 ALAR.
Come hither, Oran,
Were there a life between me and my life,
And all that makes that life a thing to cling to,
Love, Honour, Power, ay, what I will not name
Nor thou canst image -- yet enough to stir
Ambition in the dead -- I think, good Oran,
Thou would'st not see me foiled?
V:3:21 ORAN.


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