“And I, have not I mine? Ah, Elvira, from the moment I first saw thee I have loved thee. I love thee for thyself, as I would have thee, lady, e’en love me. But--but if a crown will earn me smiles from thee, I offer you the half of that I wear.” “_With_ thy crown thy love is too high for me, _without_ it, ’tis too low.” “Thou shalt fall.” “A king--never forget you are a king!” “I forget I am a king when I am at your feet.” He ran towards her, as her eyes flashed defiance upon him; but the next moment he drew back, for she had snatched a jewelled dagger from his girdle. “Stand back!” “You see I do stand back, fair lady. But there are more hands here than mine to pluck the dagger from your grasp.” Suddenly he perceived a great joy flush her fair cheeks. At the same instant he heard a footstep behind him, and turning round, he saw a man, a handsome, daring-looking man, whom he was sure, seeing the lady’s joy, was none other than Ernani, looking on him defiantly, with hate and anger! Ernani, who had entered the castle by a secret door--who was there to bear away the lady--who had come to save her from yet further misery. “Thou art Ernani--I know it by the hate I feel sparkling in my eyes. Hate! Does the eagle hate the worm? No, he despises it. Rejoice--scourge of a peaceful country! Let thy meanness comfort thee. Wert thou greater, I would raise my hand to thy destruction. I have but to call, and thou art lost.” “Thou knowest me and fearest me. I am so mean that thou hast robbed me of my fame;--so mean, that thou hast taken from me my wealth;--so contemptible, that thou hast slain my father! And now thou would’st rob me of my bride. What difference is there between us? Thou, noblest, with a crown on thy head and without risk of life--_I_ risk my life to rob where I have been robbed. What difference is there between us? Cowardice! Now--let us be equal. Defend thyself.” “Hark! some one is approaching,” cried Elvira, in an agony of fear--“forget your quarrel, at least for a little while,--if you are found here I am lost. So, please you, forget your hates, and leave me.” Still, the two men moved not--still the footsteps nearer drew. “If you love me, both of you--either of you--leave me--leave this place! Too late--too late!” For at this moment the door was thrown open, and on the threshold stood the master of the castle--the Don Ruy--his attendants behind him--witnesses to his dishonor. “Do I breathe?--here, in the sanctity of my house--to find two men quarreling--as though disputing for some poor booty!”