o doth see
That he has err'd, and who the fault condemns?
Then of your nonsense let this be enough!

[_He draws away from the table._]

QUEEN. Only--

KING (_wildly looking at her_).

What is 't?

QUEEN. O God in heav'n!

KING. Be frighted not, good wife! Be sensible!
Repeat not evermore the selfsame thing!
It doth remind me of the difference.

(_Pointing to the table, then to his breast._)

This girl there--no, of course now she is here--
If she was foolish, foolish she would be,
Nor claimed that she was pious, chaste, and wise.
And this is ever virtuous women's way--
They reckon always with their virtue thus;
If you are sad, with virtue comfort they,
If joyous is your mood, virtue again,
To take your cheerfulness at last away,
And show you as your sole salvation, sin.
Virtue's a name for virtues manifold,
And diff'rent, as occasion doth demand--
It is no empty image without fault,
And therefore, too, without all excellence.
I will just doff the chain now from my neck,
For it reminds me--
And, then, Leonore,
That with the vassals thou didst join thyself--
That was not well, was neither wise nor just.
If thou art angry with me, thou art right;
But these men, my dependents, subjects all--
What want they, then? Am I a child, a boy,
Who not yet knows the compass of his place?
They share with me the kingdom's care and toil,
And equal care is duty, too, for me.
But I the _man_ Alfonso, not the King,
Within my house, my person, and my life--
Must I accounting render to these men?
Not so! And gave I ear but to my wrath,
I quickly would return from whence I came,
To show that they with neither blame nor praise
Shall dare to sit in judgment over me.

[_Stepping forward and stamping on the floor._]

And finally this dotard, Don Manrique,
If he was once my guardian, is he still?

[_DON MANRIQUE appears at the centre door. The QUEEN points to the KING,
a