Act 2

Scene 1

Leonor, Doña Elvire[, carrying a bouquet]

Surely you jest, Elvire, for I shall die
To leave my chambers at this early hour,
While everyone’s asleep. They’ll laugh at us.

Come on now, Leonor.

         Where are you going,
You early bird, just tell me that at least.
Is it to sort some secret lover’s tryst,
Or read your future in the stars above
That sleepily you drag me from my bed?
What is it?

How I love to torture her.
Now come along with me to Lindamire,
We wagered she would give me a bracelet
If I could catch her sleeping in her bed
While carrying this flattering bouquet.

As good a pretense as I’m like to get.
What good is all this care towards your foe?
You follow every step of hers too close.

You cannot comprehend my snares of love.

That may be so, but tell me just the same,
We still will find Lindamire early enough;
These worries aren’t important, so come here,
Let’s stop a moment and enjoy the air.
In truth, Elvire, I understand you not;
I have myself loved, who is so immune?
On Earth, at least, it comes for each in turn,
Indeed the greatest prude must love some time.
So love affected me like any other,
And I, like you, contended with a rival.
But, either you don’t love like others do,
Or else my heart is made unlike their hearts,
Since just as soon as I knew of her love,
I loathed her presence ten times more than death.
I shook with horror at her uttered name,
And if I could I would have ate her heart.

My hatred for her is what spurs me on
To dog the footsteps of our Lindamire;
By doing so, I rob her of the joy
Of freely entertaining our Moncade.
Under the cover of my false friendship,
I spoil her pleasures with so much finesse
She cannot find a moment in the day
To speak with him in private of her love.
To try and seek out such a time is hard,
And I can see how much it troubles her:
She sinks into despair, and in a flash
Her face and eyes are visibly distraught,
Her humour sours and her melancholy
Causes Moncade to feel bad when she’s near.
He thinks her annoyed, and he grows jealous,
And that’s the moment I choose to swoop in.
I do my best to catch his attention,
I smile and laugh and get all bubbly,
And I display all of my best assets
Which Lindamire has not, if I may say.
You understand?

        I do, but also dear,
If this is so, you aren’t being sincere;
And if Moncade should ever catch you out,
Believe me, throw your hopes away for good
If your love is not based on high regard.

Well I thought all was fair in love and war.
Your worry for regard is meaningless:
Esteem is only useful to the plain,
To those less well-endowed with beauty’s charms;
‘Tis good to strive to be respectable,
One should be charming, if one can’t look good.
But when a lover happens on bright eyes,
He gives all his regard to what he sees,
Without a thought about the soul within.
The secret is to please the eye, because
We see that all who love think their love perfect.
So in our sparkling youth, let’s please the eyes,
And leave without regret regard to age.
Let those who want to, come down with regard,
I am immune to that great pestilence
Knowing that time will bring it on to me,
All nice and gift-wrapped when I turn fifty.

The well-said lesson of a young coquette.

I’m sure I don’t know what at all you mean;
But I do love myself, and love to please,
I like some raucousness, I hate secrets,
I do less for others than for myself,
And joy in all is my one rule and law.
If that is what today we call “coquette,”
Then it is true I’m one.

          No doubt you are,
And I must, by the laws of friendship pure,
Give you some kind advice for pity’s sake,
Whether or not it takes a hold of you.
Elvire, believe me, become more sincere,
‘Tis not too late to do the things you must
And leave behind a pointless fantasy:
Moncade is loyal, Lindamire loves him,
Their love is good, you should not interfere.
But here he comes.

Scene 2

[Enter Moncade]

       Just watch me talk to him,
You’ll see if I’m mistaken in my ways.

I won’t be seen! What crime or anything
Could cast on me so great a fall from grace?

He sees me not.

      What did I do, or say,
Oh gods, who see my heart?

            He’s stupefied!

Oh, why allow this sudden change of fortune?

He sees us, Leonor.

        Ah, just my luck!
I hate this woman!

      See? Sad, and dreaming.

See why?

   Wherefore such an angry humour,
Considering your rising fortunes, Lord,
Who gives you reason to be so morose?

Alas!

   I hear you sigh, could it be love
Has caused, Seigneur, all your troubles today?
Ah, that can’t be, you whom everyone loves,
Whomever you should choose would honour you,
And be your conquest, knowing well the price
Of answering your love with unjust spite!

You unctuous toad; man’s miseries abound,
So love is not always the cause of pain;
Though men at fortune’s summit think it so,
Who cannot understand their secret hearts.
But destiny is blind and changeable
And nobody should judge on looks alone,
Since everything is instability.

Good gracious, banish that morality!
What good is it in your most prized estate
To dream about an unknown future time?
Rejoice in this most glorious present
And leave the future in the gods’ own hands.

To make full use of reason’s faculty,
When safe in port one has to think of storms;
So picturing bad times, we them escape.
Wise men make ready and often succeed,
So the subjects that infest my house
Should always dream and fear for their disgrace.
Think of the present as a fleeting moment,
Erased at once when the next one arrives.
The fall of thousands of favourites tells us
How little Fortune favours each of them;
The past can show us what is yet to come.

Erase that portrait from your memory,
For I predict without a crystal ball
The only weapons you shall have to fear
Are those employed by women and courtiers.
And, Seigneur, for a man as great as you,
I’m sure our strikes won’t harm you very much;
If I can judge the looks of ladies well,
They will not deal you any mortal wounds.

On that point, I think both my life and death
Depend if chance is for me or against,
To make me happy or despair in love.
And to be plain, I do not myself know
What gains I get from having Kingly graces.

‘Tis true, Seigneur, some cannot see the value
Of such a gift, those horrid common souls;
When I consider it myself, I fear
I am ashamed to own up to my sex;
Sometimes when I am called a woman, I
Must hide my blushing face for pity’s sake.

You would be constant then, despite misfortune....

I understand your suspicions, Seigneur,
Since I have few attractions, my strong zeal
And faith must matter little to a man like you.
Whether that’s true or not, I do attest,
And to the gods profess that I should die
Right here, before your eyes if I do lie;
That if good fortune ever parts from you,
No counsel, torture, temptations, or gifts
Would take my heart from you. But why this vow
From Elvire’s mouth? It matters not to you,
Much stronger qualities must attract you.

Scene 3

[Enter Don Alvar]

Do you know why the hunt has been called off?
And why the King has flown into a rage?

No, why has he?

      All speculate in fear.
He walks alone around the gallery
So full with pain and noisome fantasy,
That he sees not what stands before his eyes.

Annoyed, alone, and dreaming. Gods! I’m done.

Scene 4

[Enter Clotaire]

The King, dear friend, what pain oppresses him?

I do not know, Seigneur. I’m miserable!

You know not? This I simply can’t conceive;
If you do not know, who could know it else?
You have too great a place inside his heart
To have no knowledge of what happens there;
Something’s afoot; dear friend, do let us know.
Do not so spurn me, your devoted Prince;
If you could but know how much I love you,
You would bethink me part of your own self.
If I was called to drain my blood for you,
Gods, with what pleasure I would pierce my side!

Skies, what a charlatan!

          Upon my life,
The which a thousand embraces may prove—
It seems the King will rob me of that joy,
Carlos comes seeking you.

Scene 5

[Enter Carlos]

           How does the King?

Seigneur, he is alone in his chamber, and orders you to leave by tomorrow morning his court and Barcelona, retiring to your other house, where I have come on his behalf to place you under arrest.

Moncade in exile!

         Gods!

            What do I hear!

Is this true, Carlos?

This must come as a shock, and I myself was as surprised as you. But my order is explicit.

        I have heard enough.
Carlos, without complaint I will obey
Whatever painful justice I am due.
Please reassure the King on my behalf
That I know I’m unworthy of his choice;
He has been prey to fortune’s cruel mistake
And my disgrace is error’s evidence.
Carlos leaves.

Scene 6

You, Prince....

      I have remembered that two friends
Who were disputing have just reconciled,
And it had slipped out of my memory
To go and see them. For my glory’s sake,
I must go. Time does urge me on, adieu.   [Exit]

Let’s steal away from here, sweet Leonor,
I cannot stand the heat, ‘tis horrible;
I feel a migraine coming on, Oh gods!
This heat! I’m frying! Heaven rescue us!   [Exeunt Elvire and Leonor]

So that’s the sort of friend that favour gets:
Upon the false path of celebrity
All genuflect to the masses’ idol,
A glance, a gift, some favour from the King,
Sends all hearts with abandon after you.
They run amidst the crowd, a flock following
The changing wind of that benevolence,
And night and day the duties of the Court
Are piled up high at the favourite’s feet.
But the split second that destiny shifts,
The crowd disperses, and abandons him;
And as his prize for this great position,
He’s left with nothing but a righteous pain.
Ah! my friend, I hold in high esteem
He who counts on himself for his own joy;
Who, fleeing from pernicious, vain delights,
Knows only his own thoughts, needs, and the Gods,
A man without a friend, who lives alone....

Sweet one, don’t think of me like those others,
I cannot flip with fortune’s coin like them,
And I will follow you, my friend, til death.

Follow me! Ah! Seek cruel death instead!

You may reject my loyalty in vain;
For I will follow you.

         What of the King?

I see your disgrace, and stand without fear.
The King can only take my goods and life;
I owe them both to you, and give them now;
Refuse them not.

      At least....

         My mind is made.

Ah! Of all friends you are the most perfect,
It seems that destiny has seen it fit
My heart should be most violently rent
By excess of affection and disdain
From both my false and true well-meaning friends;
I must resolve me to your offered help
Although I know my ruin will engulf you too.
I could have calmly borne the cruellest luck
If it had only just affected me;
But now, to help my sorrow reach new heights,
It seems my doom must spread to all I love.
Since you deprive me of unfriendly solitude,
Find out if I can speak with Lindamire,
I want to say goodbye; with Heaven’s help
My crime might make her better think of me.
Quick, come with me, I’ll tell you everything
That I have done to so enrage the King.   [Exeunt]

End of Act 2

Act 3