by Thomas Otway
’Twas only, sir, to put you out of pain.
[Stabs him again, and Posa falls.
M. of Posa. My lord the king — but life too far is gone —
I faint — be mindful of your queen and son. [Dies.
King. The slave in death repents, and warns me. Yes,
I shall be very mindful. What are these?
[Takes up the despatches.
For Flanders! with the prince’s signet sealed!
Here’s villany has yet been unrevealed.
See, Gomez, practices against my crown; [Shows them him.
Treason and lust have joined to pull me down.
Yet still I stand like a firm sturdy rock,
Whilst they but split themselves with their own shock.
But I too long delay: give word I come.
Ruy-Gom. What, ho! within! The king is nigh; make room.
[Ruy-Gomez draws a curtain, and discovers Don John and the Duchess of Eboli embracing.
King. Now let me, if I can, to fury add,
That when I thunder I may strike them dead.
[Looking earnestly on them.
Ha! Gomez! on this truth depends thy life.
Why, that’s our brother Austria!
Ruy-Gom. And my wife!
Embracing close. Whilst I was busy grown
In others’ ruins, here I’ve met my own.
Oh! had I perished ere ’twas understood!
King. This is the nest where lust and falsehood brood.
Is it not admirable?
[Exeunt Don John and the Duchess of Eboli embracing.
Ruy-Gom. Oh, sir, yes!
Ten thousand devils tear the sorceress!
King. But they are gone, and my dishonour’s near.
Re-enter Don Carlos and Queen, discoursing; Henrietta and Attendants.
Look, my incestuous son and wife appear.
See, Gomez, how she languishes and dies.
‘Sdeath! there are very pulses in her eyes.
[Don Carlos approaches the King.
Don Car. In peace, Heaven ever guard the king from harms;
In war, success and triumph crown his arms;
Till all the nations of the world shall be
Humble and prostrate at his feet, like me! [Kneels.
I hear your fury has my death designed;
Though I’ve deserved the worst, you may be kind:
Behold me as your poor unhappy son,
And do not spill that blood which is your own!
King. Yes, when my blood grows tainted, I ne’er doubt
But for my health ’tis good to let it out:
But thine’s a stranger, like thy soul, to me;
Or else be cursed thy mother’s memory,
And doubly cursed be that unhappy night
In which I purchased torment with delight!
Don Car. Thus then I lay aside all rights of blood. [Rises boldly.
My mother cursed! She was all just and good,
Tyrant! too good to stay with thee below,
And therefore’s blest, and reigns above thee now.
Submission! which way got it entrance here?
King. Perhaps it came ere treason was aware.
Thy traitorous design’s now come to light,
Too great and horrid to be hid in night.
See here my honour, and thy duty’s stains! [Shows the despatches.
I’ve paid your secretary for his pains;
He waits you there: to council with him go; [Shows Posa’s body.
Ask what intelligence from Flanders now.
Don Car. My friend here slain, my faithful Posa ’tis.
Good Heaven! what have I done to merit this?
What temples sacked, what desolations made,
To pull down such a vengeance on my head?
This, villain, was thy work: what friend of thine
[To Ruy-Gomez.
Did I e’er wrong, that thou shouldst murder mine?
But I’ll take care it shall not want reward — [Draws.
King. Courage, my Gomez, since thy king’s thy guard.
Come, rebel, and thy villanies fulfil!
Don Car. No; though unjust, you are my father still;
[Throws away his sword.
And from that title must your safety own:
’Tis that which awes my hand, and not your crown.
’Tis true, all there contained I had designed:
To such a height your jealousy was grown,
It was the only way that I could find
To work your peace, and to procure my own.
King. Thinking my youth and vigour to decrease,
You’d ease me of my crown to give me peace.
Don Car. Alas! you fetch your misconstructions far:
The injuries to me, and wrongs to her,
Were much too great for empire to repair.
When you forgot a father’s love, and quite
Deprived me of a son’s and prince’s right,
Branded my honour, and pursued my life,
My duty long with nature was at strife.
Not that I feared my memory or name
Could suffer by the voice of common fame;
A thing I still esteemed beneath my pride:
For, though condemned by all the world beside,
Had you but thought me just, I could have died.
At last this only way I found, to fly
Your anger, and divert your jealousy: —
To go to Flanders, and be so removed
From all I ever honoured, ever loved;
There in your right hoping I might complete,
Spite of my wrongs, some action truly great;
Thus by my faith and sufferings to out-wear
Your hate, and shun that storm which threatened here.
Queen. And can this merit hate? He would forego
The joys and charms of courts to purchase you;
Banish himself, and stem the dangerous tide
Of lawless outrage and rebellious pride.
King. How evenly she pleads in his defence!
So blind is guilt when ’twould seem innocence.
She thinks her softness may my rage disarm.
No, sorceress, you’re mistaken in your charm,
And, whilst you soothe, do but assist the storm!
Do, take full view of your tall able slave;
[Queen looks on Don Carlos.
Look hard; it is the last you’re like to have.
Don Car. My life or death are in your power to give.
King. Yes, and thou diest.
Don Car. Not till she give me leave:
She is the star that rules my destiny;
And, whilst her aspect’s kind, I cannot die.
Queen. No, prince, for ever live, be ever blest.
King. Yes, I will send him to his eternal rest.
Oh! had I took the journey long ago,
I ne’er had known the pains that rack me now.
Queen. What pains? what racks? [Approaching.
King. Avoid, and touch me not!
I see thee foul, all one incestuous blot;
Thy broken vows are in thy guilty face.
Queen. Have I then in your pity left no place?
King. Oh! thus it was you drew me in before,
With promises you ne’er would see him more.
But now your subtlest wiles too weak are grown;
I’ve gotten freedom, and I’ll keep my own.
Queen. May you be ever free! But can your mind
Conceive that any ill was here designed?
He hither came, only that he might show
Obedience, and be reconciled to you.
You saw his humble, dutiful address.
King. But you beforehand signed the happy peace.
Re-enter Duchess of Eboli.
O princess, thank you for the care you take.
Tell me, how got this monster entrance? speak.
D. of Eboli. Heave
n witness ’twas without my knowledge done.
Ruy-Gom. No, she had other business of her own.
[Aside.
O blood and murder!
King. All are false: a guard!
Enter Guard.
Seize on that traitor! [Pointing to Don Carlos.
Don Car. Welcome; I’m prepared.
Queen. Stay, sir, let me die too: I can obey.
King. No, thou shalt live. [Seemingly kind.] By Heaven, but not a day! [Aside.
I a revenge so exquisite have framed,
She unrepenting dies, and so she’s damned.
Hen. If ever pity could your heart engage,
If e’er you hope for blessings on your age,
Incline your ears to a poor virgin’s prayer!
King. I dare not venture thee, thou art too fair.
What wouldst thou say?
Hen. Destroy not in one man
More virtue than the world can boast again.
View him the eldest pledge of your first love,
Your virgin joys; that may some pity move —
King. No; for the wrongs I suffer weigh it down:
I’d now not spare his life to save my own.
Away! by thy soft tongue I’ll not be caught.
Hen. By all that hopes can frame I beg: if not,
May you by some base hand unpitied die,
And childless mothers curse your memory!
By honour, love, by life —
King. Fond girl, away:
By Heaven, I’ll kill thee else! Still darest thou stay?
Cannot death terrify thee?
Hen. No; for I,
If you refuse me, am resolved to die.
Don Car. Kind fair one, do not waste your sorrows here
On me, too wretched, and not worth a tear.
There yet for you are mighty joys in store,
When I in dust am laid, and seen no more. —
O madam! [To the Queen.
Queen. O my Carlos! must you die
For me? no mercy in a father’s eye?
Don Car. Hide, hide your tears, into my soul they dart
A tenderness that misbecomes my heart:
For, since I must, I like a prince would fall,
And to my aid my manly spirits call.
Queen. You, like a man, as roughly as you will
May die, but let me be a woman still! [Weeps.
King. Thou’rt woman, a true copy of the first,
In whom the race of all mankind was cursed.
Your sex by beauty was to Heaven allied;
But your great lord, the devil, taught you pride.
He too an angel, till he durst rebel;
And you are, sure, the stars that with him fell.
Weep on! a stock of tears like vows you have,
And always ready when you would deceive.
Queen. Cruel! inhuman! O my heart! why should
I throw away a title that’s so good,
On one a stranger to whate’er was so?
Alas, I’m torn, and know not what to do.
The just resentment of my wrong’s so great,
My spirits sink beneath the heavy weight.
Tyrant, stand off! I hate thee, and will try
If I have scorn enough to make me die.
Don Car. Blest angel, stay! [Takes her in his arms.
Queen. Carlos, the sole embrace
You ever took, you have before his face.
Don Car. No wealthy monarch of the plenteous East,
In all the glories of his empire dressed,
Was ever half so rich, or half so blest.
But from such bliss how wretched is the fall!
They too like us must die, and leave it all.
King. All this before my face! what soul could bear’t?
Go, force her from him! [Officer approaches.
Don Car. Slave, ‘twill cost thy heart.
Thou’dst better meet a lion on his way,
And from his hungry jaws reprize the prey!
She’s mistress of my soul, and to prepare
Myself for death, I must consult with her.
Ruy-Gom. Have pity! [Ironically.
King. Hence! how wretchedly he rules
That’s served by cowards, and advised by fools!
Oh, torture!
Don Car. Rouse, my soul! consider now
That to thy blissful mansion thou must go.
But I so mighty joys have tasted here,
I hardly shall have sense of any there:
Oh, soft as blossoms, and yet sweeter far! [Leaning on her bosom.
Sweeter than incense which to Heaven ascends,
Though ’tis presented there by angels’ hands.
King. Still in his arms! Cowards, go tear her forth!
Don Car. You’ll sooner from its centre shake the earth:
I’ll hold her fast till my last hour is nigh;
Then I’ll bequeath her to you when I die.
King. Cut off his hold! or any thing —
Don Car. Ay, come;
Here kill, and bear me hence into my tomb.
I’d have my monument erected here,
With broken mangled limbs still clasping her.
Queen. Hold, and I’ll quit his arms —
[The Guards offer their axes. They part.
King. Now bear him hence.
Queen. O horrid tyrant! [Guards are hurrying Don Carlos off.
Stay, unhappy prince —
Turn, turn! O torment! must I leave you so?
No, stay, and take me with you where you go.
Don Car. Hark, slaves, my goddess summons me to stay.
Dogs! have you eyes, and can you disobey?
See her! Oh, let me but just touch my bliss. [Pressing forward.
King. By hell! he shan’t. Slaves, are ye mine or his?
Queen. My life —
Don Car. My soul, farewell! [Exeunt Guards with Don Carlos.
Queen. He’s gone, he’s gone!
Now, tyrant, to thy rage I’m left alone;
Give me my death, that hate both life and thee.
King. I know thou dost; yet live.
Queen. O misery! [Throws herself down.
Why was I born to be thus cursed? or why
Should life be forced, when ’tis so sweet to die?
King [To D. of Eboli]. Thou, woman, hast been false; but, to renew
Thy credit in my heart, assist me now.
Prepare a draught of poison, such as will
Act slow, and by degrees of torment kill.
Give it the queen, and, to prevent all sense
Of dying, tell her I’ve released the prince,
And that ere morning he’ll attend her. I
In a disguise his presence will supply;
So glut my rage, and smiling see her die.
D. of Eboli. Your majesty shall be obeyed.
Ruy-Gom. Do, work thy mischiefs to their last degree,
And when they’re in their height I’ll murder thee.
[Aside.
King. Now, Gomez, ply my rage and keep it hot:
O’er love and nature I’ve the conquest got.
Still charming beauty triumphs in her eyes:
[Looking at the Queen.
Yet for my honour and my rest she dies.
[Exeunt Queen and Women.
But, oh! what ease can I expect to get,
When I must purchase at so dear a rate? [Exeunt.
ACT THE FIFTH.
SCENE I. — An Apartment in the Palace.
Enter King disguised.
King. ’Tis night; the season when the happy take
Repose, and only wretches are awake.
Now discontented ghosts begin their rounds,
Haunt ruined buildings and unwholesome grounds;
Or at the curtains of the restless wait,
To frighten them with some sad tale of fate.
When I would rest, I can no rest obtain:
T
he ills I’ve borne even o’er my slumbers reign,
And in sad dreams torment me o’er again.
The fatal business is ere this begun:
I’m shocked, and start to think what I have done.
But I forget how I that Philip am
So much for constancy renowned by fame;
Who through the progress of my life was ne’er
By hopes transported, or depressed by fear.
No, it is gone too far to be recalled,
And steadfastness will make the act extolled.
Enter Duchess of Eboli, in a night-gown.
Who? Eboli?
D. of Eboli. My lord.
King. Is the deed done?
D. of Eboli. ’Tis, and the queen to seek repose is gone.
King. Can she expect it, who allowed me none?
No, Eboli; her dreams must be as full
Of horror, and as hellish as her soul.
Does she believe the prince has freedom gained?
D. of Eboli. She does.
King. How were the tidings entertained?
D. of Eboli. O’er all her face young wandering blushes were,
Such as speak hopes too weak to conquer fear: —
But when confirmed, no lover e’er so kind;
She clasped me fast, caressed, and called me friend.
Which opportunity I took, to give
The poison; and till day she cannot live.
King. Quickly then to her; say that Carlos here
Waits to confirm his happiness with her.
Go, that my vengeance I may finish quite:
’Twould be imperfect, should I lose the sight.
But to contrive that I may not be known,
And she may still mistake me for my son,
Remove all light but that which may suffice
To let her see me scorn her when she dies.
D. of Eboli. You’ll find her all in rueful sables clad,
With one dim lamp that yields imperfect light,
Such as in vaults assist the ghastly shade,
Where wretched widows come to weep at night.
Thus she resolves to die, or living mourn,
Till Carlos shall with liberty return. [Exit.
King. O steadfast sin! incorrigible lust!
Not damned! it is impossible; she must.
How do I long to see her in her pains,
The poisonous sulphur rolling through her veins!
Enter Don John and Attendants.
Who’s there? my brother?
Don John. Yes, sir, and your friend.
What can your presence here so late intend?
King. O Austria! Fate’s at work; a deed’s in hand
Will put thy youthful courage to a stand.
Survey me; do I look as heretofore?
Don John. You look like King of Spain, and lord of power;
Like one who still seeks glory on the wing;
