Pedro the Cruel
That gracious diadem that flings its light
From stern Galicia's heights and fierce Biscay
To lordly Cordova and sweet Seville?
Let him not think so for his true wife's sake.
Pedro. Then wear it!
Maria.Nay, too much I honour it
To put it on ere I have learnt the lesson
How to become it gracefully and well.
Pedro. And Blanche of Bourbon? Wilt thou have me lead
Her to the altar before God and man,
When God and man have bound me unto thee?
Give me that ring; perchance 'twill fit her hand.
Maria. No, my sweet Pedro! Thou must take good counsel
How courteously and kingly to put by
The bride thy mother and thy tutor found thee—
But oh, what talk we? Are we not like children
Whom soon the rod will threaten back to duty?
Canst thou withstand thy master to his face?
Pedro. Now hush, Maria! Am I not the King?
And yet time was, he was my only friend.
He gave me royal nurture when my father
Forgot his heir—he gave my mother honour
When her own husband taught the world to scorn her.
He was my friend.
From stern Galicia's heights and fierce Biscay
To lordly Cordova and sweet Seville?
Let him not think so for his true wife's sake.
Pedro. Then wear it!
Maria.Nay, too much I honour it
To put it on ere I have learnt the lesson
How to become it gracefully and well.
Pedro. And Blanche of Bourbon? Wilt thou have me lead
Her to the altar before God and man,
When God and man have bound me unto thee?
Give me that ring; perchance 'twill fit her hand.
Maria. No, my sweet Pedro! Thou must take good counsel
How courteously and kingly to put by
The bride thy mother and thy tutor found thee—
But oh, what talk we? Are we not like children
Whom soon the rod will threaten back to duty?
Canst thou withstand thy master to his face?
Pedro. Now hush, Maria! Am I not the King?
And yet time was, he was my only friend.
He gave me royal nurture when my father
Forgot his heir—he gave my mother honour
When her own husband taught the world to scorn her.
He was my friend.
165
