XVIII. The one was yet an infant upon its mother's breast, For though it had three nurses, it liked her milk the best; The others were young children, that had but little wit, Hanging about their mother's knee while nursing she did sit. XIX. "Alas!" he said, when he had come within a little space, "How shall I brook the cheerful look of my kind lady's face? To see her coming forth in glee to meet me in my hall, When she so soon a corpse must be, and I the cause of all!" XX. Just then he saw her at the door with all her babes appear-- (The little page had run before to tell his lord was near) "Now welcome home, my lord, my life!--Alas! you droop your head Tell, Count Alarcos, tell your wife, what makes your eyes so red?"-- XXI. "I'll tell you all--I'll tell you all: It is not yet the hour; We'll sup together in the hall--I'll tell you in your bower." The lady brought forth what she had, and down beside him sate; He sat beside her pale and sad, but neither drank nor ate. XXII. The children to his side were led (he loved to have them so), Then on the board he laid his head, and out his tears did flow:-- "I fain would sleep--I fain would sleep,"--the Count Alarcos said:-- Alas! be sure, that sleep was none that night within their bed. XXIII. They came together to the bower where they were used to rest, None with them but the little babe that was upon the breast: The Count had barred the chamber doors, they ne'er were barred till then; "Unhappy lady," he began, "and I most lost of men!" XXIV. "Now, speak not so, my noble lord, my husband and my life, Unhappy never can she be, that is Alarcos' wife."-- "Alas! unhappy lady, 'tis but little that you know, For in that very word you've said is gathered all your woe. XXV. "Long since I loved a lady,--long since I oaths did plight, To be that lady's husband, to love her day and night; Her father is our lord the King, to him the thing is known, And now, that I the news should bring! she claims me for her own. XXVI. "Alas! my love, alas! my life, the right is on their side; Ere I had seen your face, sweet wife, she was betrothed my bride; But, oh! that I should speak the word--since in her place you lie, It is the bidding of our Lord, that you this night must die."-- XXVII. "Are these the wages of my love, so lowly and so leal?-- O, kill me not, thou noble Count, when at thy foot I kneel!-- But send me to my father's house, where once I dwelt in glee, There will I live a lone chaste life, and rear my children three."-- XXVIII. "It may not be--mine oath is strong--ere dawn of day you die!"-- "O! well 'tis seen how all alone upon the earth am I-- My father is an old frail man,--my mother's in her grave,-- And dead is stout Don Garcia--Alas! my brother brave!