No, no, no, no! KING (_laughing_). I see your weakness happily abates. (_Catching sight of _GARCERAN.) Ah, Garceran! Behold, she's but a child! GARCERAN. A spoiled child, surely! KING. Yes, they all are that. It suits her well! GARCERAN. According to one's tastes! KING. See, Garceran! I feel how wrong I am; And yet I know there needeth but a nod, A simple word, to make it all dissolve--This dream--into the nothing that it is. And so I suffer it because I've need, In this confusion which myself have caused. How is the army? GARCERAN. As you long have known, The enemy is arming. KING. So shall we. A few days more, and I shall put away This toying from me, and forevermore; Then time and counsel shall be found again. GARCERAN. Mayhap the counsel, but the time slips by! KING. With deeds we shall regain the ground that's lost. RACHEL. I hear them speaking; and I know of what--Of And not be lonesome in this concourse loud. I see you come not. No, they hold you back. [_Weeping._] Not any comfort give they me, nor joy. They hold me here, apart, in slavery. Would I were home again in father's house, Where every one is at my beck and call, Instead of here,--the outcast of contempt. KING. Go thou to her! GARCERAN. What? Shall I? KING. Go, I say! RACHEL. Sit down by me, but nearer, nearer--so! Once more I say, I love you, Garceran. You are, indeed, a knight without a flaw, Not merely knight in name, as they it learn-- Those iron, proud Castilians--from their foes, The Moors.--But these Castilians imitate In manner borrowed, therefore rough and crude, What those, with delicate and clever art, Are wont to practise as a native gift. Give me your hand. Just see, how soft it is! And yet you wield a sword as well as they. But you're at home in boudoirs, too, and know The pleasing manners of a gentler life. From Dona Clara cometh not this ring? She's far too pale for rosy-cheekèd love, Were not the color which her face doth lack Replaced by e'er renewing blush of shame. But many other rings I see you have-- How many sweethearts have you? Come, confess! GARCERAN. Suppose I ask the question now of you?