Am I another, then?  I wind the chain
In jest, to mock you, thus about my neck,

(Doing it.)

The face that ’frights you in my bosom hide—­
Am I the less Alfonso, who 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, and wrings her hand.  MANRIQUE withdraws with a reassuring gesture.]

KING.  Presumes he to his sov’reign to prescribe
             The rustic precepts of senility? 
             Would he with secret, rash, and desp’rate deed—­

(Walking back and forth diagonally across the stage)

I will investigate this case as judge;
And if there be a trace here of offense,
Of insolent intent or wrongful act,
The nearer that the guilty stand to me,
The more shall boldness pay the penalty. 
Not thou, Leonore, no, thou art excused!