I stand before thee now all eye, all ear,
All rapture and delight. What eye hath seen thee-
Under yon heaven what eye could e'er have seen thee,
And boast he never loved? What dost thou here
In Philip's royal court! Thou beauteous angel!
Here amid monks and all their princely train.
This is no clime for such a lovely flower-
They fain would rifle all thy sweets-full well
I know their hearts. But it shall never be-
Not whilst I draw life's breath. I fold thee thus
Within my arms, and in these hands I'll bear thee
E'en through a hell replete with mocking fiends.
Let me thy guardian angel prove.
PRINCESS (with a countenance full of love).
O Carlos!
How little have I known thee! and how richly
With measureless reward thy heart repays
The weighty task of-comprehending thee!
[She takes his hand and is about to kiss it.
CARLOS (drawing it back).
Princess! What mean you?
PRINCESS (with tenderness and grace, looking at his hand attentively).
Oh, this beauteous hand!
How lovely 'tis, and rich! This hand has yet
Two costly presents to bestow!-a crown-
And Carlos' heart:-and both these gifts perchance
Upon one mortal!-both on one-Oh, great
And godlike gift-almost too much for one!
How if you share the treasure, prince! A queen
Knows naught of love-and she who truly loves
Cares little for a crown! 'Twere better, prince,
Then to divide the treasure-and at once-
What says my prince? Have you done so already?
Have you in truth? And do I know the blest one?
CARLOS.
Thou shalt. I will unfold myself to thee,
To thy unspotted innocence, dear maid,
Thy pure, unblemished nature. In this court
Thou art the worthiest-first-the only one
To whom this soul has stood revealed.
Then, yes! I will not now conceal it-yes,
I love!
PRINCESS.
Oh, cruel heart! Does this avowal prove
So painful to thee? Must I first deserve
Thy pity-ere I hope to win thy love?
CARLOS (starting).
What say'st thou?
PRINCESS.
So to trifle with me, prince!
Indeed it was not well-and to deny
The key--
CARLOS.
The key! the key! Oh yes, 'tis so!
[After a dead silence.
I see it all too plainly! Gracious heaven!
[His knees totter, he leans against a chair, and covers
his face with his hands. A long silence on both sides.
The PRINCESS screams and falls.
PRINCESS.
Oh, horrible! What have I done!
CARLOS.
Hurled down
So far from all my heavenly joys! 'Tis dreadful!
PRINCESS (hiding her face in the cushion).
Oh, God! What have I said?
CARLOS (kneeling before her).
I am not guilty.
My passion-an unfortunate mistake-
By heaven, I am not guilty--
PRINCESS (pushing him from her).
Out of my sight,
For heaven's sake!
CARLOS.
No, I will not leave thee thus.
In this dread anguish leave thee--
PRINCESS (pushing him forcibly away).
Oh, in pity-
For mercy's sake, away-out of my sight!
Wouldst thou destroy me? How I hate thy presence!
[CARLOS going.
Give, give me back the letter and the key.
Where is the other letter?
CARLOS.
The other letter?
PRINCESS.
That from the king, to me--
CARLOS (terrified).
From whom?
PRINCESS.
The one I just now gave you.
CARLOS.
From the king!
To you!
PRINCESS.
Oh, heavens, how dreadfully have I
Involved myself! The letter, sir! I must
Have it again.
CARLOS.
The letter from the king!
To you!
PRINCESS.
The letter! give it, I implore you
By all that's sacred! give it.
CARLOS.
What, the letter
That will unmask the saint! Is this the letter?
PRINCESS.
Now I'm undone! Quick, give it me--
CARLOS.
The letter--
PRINCESS (wringing her hands in despair).
What have I done? O dreadful, dire imprudence!
CARLOS.
This letter comes, then, from the king! Princess,
That changes all indeed, and quickly, too.
This letter is beyond all value-priceless!
All Philip's crowns are worthless, and too poor
To win it from my hands. I'll keep this letter.
PRINCESS (throwing herself prostrate before him as he is going).
Almighty Heaven! then I am lost forever.
[Exit CARLOS.
SCENE IX.
The PRINCESS alone.
She seems overcome with surprise, and is confounded.
After CARLOS' departure she hastens to call him back.
PRINCESS.
Prince, but one word! Prince, hear me. He is gone.
And this, too, I am doomed to bear-his scorn!
And I am left in lonely wretchedness,
Rejected and despised!
[Sinks down upon a chair. After a pause
And yet not so;
I'm but displaced-supplanted by some wanton.
He loves! of that no longer doubt is left;
He has himself confessed it-but my rival-
Who can she be? Happy, thrice happy one!
This much stands clear: he loves where he should not.
He dreads discovery, and from the king
He hides his guilty passion! Why from him
Who would so gladly hail it? Or, is it not
The father that he dreads so in the parent?
When the king's wanton purpose was disclosed,
His features glowed with triumph, boundless joy
Flashed in his eyes, his rigid virtue fled;
Why was it mute in such a cause as this?
Why should he triumph? What hath he to gain
If Philip to his queen--
[She stops suddenly, as if struck by a thought, then
drawing hastily from her bosom the ribbon which she had
taken from CARLOS, she seems to recognize it.
Fool that I am!
At length 'tis plain. Where have my senses been?
My eyes are opened now. They loved each other
Long before Philip wooed her, and the prince
Ne'er saw me but with her! She, she alone
Was in his thoughts when I believed myself
The object of his true and boundless love.
O matchless error! and have I betrayed
My weakness to her?
[Pauses.
Should his love prove hopeless?
Who can believe it? Would a hopeless love
Persist in such a struggle? Called to revel
In joys for which a monarch sighs in vain!
A hopeless love makes no such sacrifice.
What fire was in his kiss! How tenderly
He pressed my bosom to his beating heart!
Well nigh the trial had proved dangerous
To his romantic, unrequited passion!
With joy he seized the key he fond
ly thought
The queen had sent:-in this gigantic stride
Of love he puts full credence-and he comes-
In very truth comes here-and so imputes
To Philip's wife a deed so madly rash.
And would he so, had love not made him bold?
'Tis clear as day-his suit is heard-she loves!
By heaven, this saintly creature burns with passion;
How subtle, too, she is! With fear I trembled
Before this lofty paragon of virtue!
She towered beside me, an exalted being,
And in her beams I felt myself eclipsed;
I envied her the lovely, cloudless calm,
That kept her soul from earthly tumults free.
And was this soft serenity but show?
Would she at both feasts revel, holding up
Her virtue's godlike splendor to our gaze,
And riot in the secret joys of vice?
And shall the false dissembler cozen thus,
And win a safe immunity from this
That no avenger comes? By heavens she shall not!
I once adored her,-that demands revenge:-
The king shall know her treachery-the king!
[After a pause.
'Tis the sure way to win the monarch's ear!
[Exit.
SCENE X.
A chamber in the royal palace.
DUKE OF ALVA, FATHER DOMINGO.
DOMINGO.
Something to tell me!
ALVA.
Ay! a thing of moment,
Of which I made discovery to-day,
And I would have your judgment on it.
DOMINGO.
How!
Discovery! To what do you allude?
ALVA.
Prince Carlos and myself this morning met
In the queen's antechamber. I received
An insult from him-we were both in heat-
The strife grew loud-and we had drawn our swords.
Alarmed, from her apartments rushed the queen.
She stepped between us,-with commanding eye
Of conscious power, she looked upon the prince.
'Twas but a single glance,-but his arm dropped,
He fell upon my bosom-gave me then
A warm embrace, and vanished.
DOMINGO (after a pause).
This seems strange.
It brings a something to my mind, my lord!
And thoughts like these I own have often sprung
Within my breast; but I avoid such fancies-
To no one have I e'er confided them.
There are such things as double-edged swords
And untrue friends,-I fear them both.
'Tis hard to judge among mankind, but still more hard
To know them thoroughly. Words slipped at random
Are confidants offended-therefore I
Buried my secret in my breast, till time
Should drag it forth to light. 'Tis dangerous
To render certain services to kings.
They are the bolts, which if they miss the mark,
Recoil upon the archer! I could swear
Upon the sacrament to what I saw.
Yet one eye-witness-one word overheard-
A scrap of paper-would weigh heavier far
Than my most strong conviction! Cursed fate
That we are here in Spain!
ALVA.
And why in Spain?
DOMINGO.
There is a chance in every court but this
For passion to forget itself, and fall.
Here it is warned by ever-wakeful laws.
Our Spanish queens would find it hard to sin-
And only there do they meet obstacles,
Where best 'twould serve our purpose to surprise them.
ALVA.
But listen further: Carlos had to-day
An audience of the king; the interview
Lasted an hour, and earnestly he sought
The government of Flanders for himself.
Loudly he begged, and fervently. I heard him
In the adjoining cabinet. His eyes
Were red with tears when I encountered him.
At noon he wore a look of lofty triumph,
And vowed his joy at the king's choice of me.
He thanked the king. "Matters are changed," he said,
"And things go better now." He's no dissembler:
How shall I reconcile such contradictions?
The prince exults to see himself rejected,
And I receive a favor from the king
With marks of anger! What must I believe?
In truth this new-born dignity doth sound
Much more like banishment than royal favor!
DOMINGO.
And is it come to this at last? to this?
And has one moment crumbled into dust
What cost us years to build? And you so calm,
So perfectly at ease! Know you this youth?
Do you foresee the fate we may expect
Should he attain to power? The prince! No foe
Am I of his. Far other cares than these
Gnaw at my rest-cares for the throne-for God,
And for his holy church! The royal prince-
(I know him, I can penetrate his soul),
Has formed a horrible design, Toledo!
The wild design-to make himself the regent,
And set aside our pure and sacred faith.
His bosom glows with some new-fangled virtue,
Which, proud and self-sufficient, scorns to rest
For strength on any creed. He dares to think!
His brain is all on fire with wild chimeras;
He reverences the people! And is this
A man to be our king?
ALVA.
Fantastic dreams!
No more. A boy's ambition, too, perchance
To play some lofty part! What can he less?
These thoughts will vanish when he's called to rule.
DOMINGO.
I doubt it! Of his freedom he is proud,
And scorns those strict restraints all men must bear
Who hope to govern others. Would he suit
Our throne? His bold gigantic mind
Would burst the barriers of our policy.
In vain I sought to enervate his soul
In the loose joys of this voluptuous age.
He stood the trial. Fearful is the spirit
That rules this youth; and Philip soon will see
His sixtieth year.
ALVA.
Your vision stretches far!
DOMINGO.
He and the queen are both alike in this.
Already works, concealed in either breast,
The poisonous wish for change and innovation.
Give it but way, 'twill quickly reach the throne.
I know this Valois! We may tremble for
The secret vengeance of this quiet foe
If Philip's weakness hearken to her voice!
Fortune so far hath smiled upon us. Now
We must anticipate the foe, and both
Shall fall together in one fatal snare.
Let but a hint of such a thing be dropped
Before the king, proved or unproved, it reeks not!
Our point is gained if he but waver. We
Ourselves have not a doubt; and once convinced,
'Tis easy to convince another's mind.
Be sure we shall discover more if we
Start with the faith that more remains concealed.
ALVA.
But soft! A vital question! Who is he
Will undertake the task to tell the king?
DOMINGO.
Nor you, nor I! Now shall you learn, what long
My busy spirit, full of its design,
Has been at work with, to achieve its ends.
Still is there wanting to complete our league
Loves the young Princess Eboli-and I
Foster this passion for my own designs.
I am his go-between. She shall be schooled
Into our plot. If my plan fail me not,
In this young lady shall a close ally-
A very queen, bloom for us. She herself
Asked me, but now, to meet her in this chamber.
I'm full of hope. And in one little night
A Spanish maid may blast this Valois lily.
ALVA.
What do you say! Can I have heard aright?
By Heaven! I'm all amazement. Compass this,
And I'll bow down to thee, Dominican!
The day's our own.
DOMINGO.
Soft! Some one comes: 'tis she-
'Tis she herself!
ALVA.
I'm in the adjoining room
If you should--
DOMINGO.
Be it so: I'll call you in.
[Exit ALVA.
SCENE XI.
PRINCESS, DOMINGO.
DOMINGO.
At your command, princess.
PRINCESS.
We are perhaps
Don Carlos (play) Page 8
