Kitabı oku: «Don Carlos», sayfa 2

SCENE IV

The QUEEN, PRINCESS EBOLI, MARCHIONESS OF MONDECAR, and MARQUIS OF POSA.

QUEEN

 
   I bid you welcome, sir, to Spanish ground!
 

MARQUIS

 
   Ground which I never with so just a pride
   Hailed for the country of my sires as now.
 

QUEEN (to the two ladies)

 
   The Marquis Posa, ladies, who at Rheims
   Coped with my father in the lists, and made
   My colors thrice victorious; the first
   That made me feel how proud a thing it was
   To be the Queen of Spain and Spanish men.
 

[Turning to the MARQUIS.

 
   When we last parted in the Louvre, Sir,
   You scarcely dreamed that I should ever be
   Your hostess in Castile.
 

MARQUIS

 
                Most true, my liege!
   For at that time I never could have dreamed
   That France should lose to us the only thing
   We envied her possessing.
 

QUEEN

 
                 How, proud Spaniard!
   The only thing! And you can venture this —
   This to a daughter of the house of Valois!
 

MARQUIS

 
   I venture now to say it, gracious queen,
   Since now you are our own.
 

QUEEN

 
                 Your journey hither
   Has led you, as I hear, through France. What news
   Have you brought with you from my honored mother
   And from my dearest brothers?
 

MARQUIS (handing letters)

 
   I left your royal mother sick at heart,
   Bereft of every joy save only this,
   To know her daughter happy on the throne
   Of our imperial Spain.
 

QUEEN

 
               Could she be aught
   But happy in the dear remembrances
   Of relatives so kind – in the sweet thoughts
   Of the old time when – Sir, you've visited
   Full many a court in these your various travels,
   And seen strange lands and customs manifold;
   And now, they say, you mean to keep at home
   A greater prince in your retired domain
   Than is King Philip on his throne – a freer.
   You're a philosopher; but much I doubt
   If our Madrid will please you. We are so —
   So quiet in Madrid.
 

MARQUIS

 
              And that is more
   Than all the rest of Europe has to boast.
 

QUEEN

 
   I've heard as much. But all this world's concerns
   Are well-nigh blotted from my memory.
 

[To PRINCESS EBOLI.

 
   Princess, methinks I see a hyacinth
   Yonder in bloom. Wilt bring it to me, sweet?
 

[The PRINCESS goes towards the palace, the QUEEN

 
      softly to the MARQUIS.
   I'm much mistaken, sir, or your arrival
   Has made one heart more happy here at court.
 

MARQUIS

 
   I have found a sad one – one that in this world
   A ray of sunshine —
 

EBOLI

 
              As this gentleman
   Has seen so many countries, he, no doubt,
   Has much of note to tell us.
 

MARQUIS

 
                  Doubtless, and
   To seek adventures is a knight's first duty —
   But his most sacred is to shield the fair.
 

MONDECAR

 
   From giants! But there are no giants now!
 

MARQUIS

 
   Power is a giant ever to the weak.
 

QUEEN

 
   The chevalier says well. There still are giants;
   But there are knights no more.
 

MARQUIS

 
                   Not long ago,
   On my return from Naples, I became
   The witness of a very touching story,
   Which ties of friendship almost make my own
   Were I not fearful its recital might
   Fatigue your majesty —
 

QUEEN

 
               Have I a choice?
   The princess is not to be lightly balked.
   Proceed. I too, sir, love a story dearly.
 

MARQUIS

 
   Two noble houses in Mirandola,
   Weary of jealousies and deadly feuds,
   Transmitted down from Guelphs and Ghibellines,
   Through centuries of hate, from sire to son,
   Resolved to ratify a lasting peace
   By the sweet ministry of nuptial ties.
   Fernando, nephew of the great Pietro,
   And fair Matilda, old Colonna's child,
   Were chosen to cement this holy bond.
   Nature had never for each other formed
   Two fairer hearts. And never had the world
   Approved a wiser or a happier choice.
   Still had the youth adored his lovely bride
   In the dull limner's portraiture alone.
   How thrilled his heart, then, in the hope to find
   The truth of all that e'en his fondest dreams
   Had scarcely dared to credit in her picture!
   In Padua, where his studies held him bound;
   Fernando panted for the joyful hour,
   When he might murmur at Matilda's feet
   The first pure homage of his fervent love.
 

[The QUEEN grows more attentive; the MARQUIS continues, after a short pause, addressing himself chiefly to PRINCESS EBOLI.

 
   Meanwhile the sudden death of Pietro's wife
   Had left him free to wed. With the hot glow
   Of youthful blood the hoary lover drinks
   The fame that reached him of Matilda's charms.
   He comes – he sees – he loves! The new desire
   Stifles the voice of nature in his heart.
   The uncle woos his nephew's destined bride,
   And at the altar consecrates his theft.
 

QUEEN

 
   And what did then Fernando?
 

MARQUIS

 
                  On the wings
   Of Jove, unconscious of the fearful change,
   Delirious with the promised joy, he speeds
   Back to Mirandola. His flying steed
   By starlight gains the gate. Tumultuous sounds
   Of music, dance, and jocund revelry
   Ring from the walls of the illumined palace.
   With faltering steps he mounts the stair; and now
   Behold him in the crowded nuptial hall,
   Unrecognized! Amid the reeling guests
   Pietro sat. An angel at his side —
   An angel, whom he knows, and who to him
   Even in his dreams, seemed ne'er so beautiful.
   A single glance revealed what once was his —
   Revealed what now was lost to him forever.
 

EBOLI

 
   O poor Fernando!
 

QUEEN

 
            Surely, sir, your tale
   Is ended? Nay, it must be.
 

MARQUIS

 
                  No, not quite.
 

QUEEN

 
   Did you not say Fernando was your friend?
 

MARQUIS

 
   I have no dearer in the world.
 

EBOLI

 
                   But pray
   Proceed, sir, with your story.
 

MARQUIS

 
                   Nay, the rest
   Is very sad – and to recall it sets
   My sorrow fresh abroach. Spare me the sequel.
 

[A general silence.

QUEEN (turning to the PRINCESS EBOLI)

 
   Surely the time is come to see my daughter,
   I prithee, princess, bring her to me now!
 

[The PRINCESS withdraws. The MARQUIS beckons a Page. The QUEEN opens the letters, and appears surprised. The MARQUIS talks with MARCHIONESS MONDECAR. The QUEEN having read the letters, turns to the MARQUIS with a penetrating look.

QUEEN

 
   You have not spoken of Matilda! She
   Haply was ignorant of Fernando's grief?
 

MARQUIS

 
   Matilda's heart has no one fathomed yet —
   Great souls endure in silence.
 

QUEEN

 
   You look around you. Who is it you seek?
 

MARQUIS

 
   Just then the thought came over me, how one,
   Whose name I dare not mention, would rejoice,
   Stood he where I do now.
 

QUEEN

 
                And who's to blame,
   That he does not?
 

MARQUIS (interrupting her eagerly)

 
             My liege! And dare I venture
   To interpret thee, as fain I would? He'd find
   Forgiveness, then, if now he should appear.
 

QUEEN (alarmed)

 
   Now, marquis, now? What do you mean by this?
 

MARQUIS

 
   Might he, then, hope?
 

QUEEN

 
               You terrify me, marquis.
   Surely he will not —
 

MARQUIS

 
              He is here already.
 

SCENE V

The QUEEN, CARLOS, MARQUIS POSA, MARCHIONESS MONDECAR.

The two latter go towards the avenue.

CARLOS (on his knees before the QUEEN)

 
   At length 'tis come – the happy moment's come,
   And Charles may touch this all-beloved hand.
 

QUEEN

 
   What headlong folly's this? And dare you break
   Into my presence thus? Arise, rash man!
   We are observed; my suite are close at hand.
 

CARLOS

 
   I will not rise. Here will I kneel forever,
   Here will I lie enchanted at your feet,
   And grow to the dear ground you tread on?
 

QUEEN

 
   Madman! To what rude boldness my indulgence leads!
   Know you, it is the queen, your mother, sir,
   Whom you address in such presumptuous strain?
   Know, that myself will to the king report
   This bold intrusion —
 

CARLOS

 
               And that I must die!
   Let them come here, and drag me to the scaffold!
   A moment spent in paradise like this
   Is not too dearly purchased by a life.
 

QUEEN

 
   But then your queen?
 

CARLOS (rising)

 
              O God, I'll go, I'll go!
   Can I refuse to bend to that appeal?
   I am your very plaything. Mother, mother,
   A sign, a transient glance, one broken word
   From those dear lips can bid me live or die.
   What would you more? Is there beneath the sun
   One thing I would not haste to sacrifice
   To meet your lightest wish?
 

QUEEN

 
                  Then fly!
 

CARLOS

 
                       God!
 

QUEEN

 
   With tears I do conjure you, Carlos, fly!
   I ask no more. O fly! before my court,
   My guards, detecting us alone together,
   Bear the dread tidings to your father's ear.
 

CARLOS

 
   I bide my doom, or be it life or death.
   Have I staked every hope on this one moment,
   Which gives thee to me thus at length alone,
   That idle fears should balk me of my purpose?
   No, queen! The world may round its axis roll
   A hundred thousand times, ere chance again
   Yield to my prayers a moment such as this.
 

QUEEN

 
   It never shall to all eternity.
   Unhappy man! What would you ask of me?
 

CARLOS

 
   Heaven is my witness, queen, how I have struggled,
   Struggled as mortal never did before,
   But all in vain! My manhood fails – I yield.
 

QUEEN

 
   No more of this – for my sake – for my peace.
 

CARLOS

 
   You were mine own, – in face of all the world, —
   Affianced to me by two mighty crowns,
   By heaven and nature plighted as my bride,
   But Philip, cruel Philip, stole you from me!
 

QUEEN

 
   He is your father?
 

CARLOS

 
             And he is your husband!
 

QUEEN

 
   And gives to you for an inheritance,
   The mightiest monarchy in all the world.
 

CARLOS

 
   And you, as mother!
 

QUEEN

 
              Mighty heavens! You rave!
 

CARLOS

 
   And is he even conscious of his treasure?
   Hath he a heart to feel and value yours?
   I'll not complain – no, no, I will forget,
   How happy, past all utterance, I might
   Have been with you, – if he were only so.
   But he is not – there, there, the anguish lies!
   He is not, and he never – never can be.
   Oh, you have robbed me of my paradise,
   Only to blast it in King Philip's arms!
 

QUEEN

 
   Horrible thought!
 

CARLOS

 
             Oh, yes, right well I know
   Who 'twas that knit this ill-starred marriage up.
   I know how Philip loves, and how he wooed.
   What are you in this kingdom – tell me, what?
   Regent, belike! Oh, no! If such you were,
   How could fell Alvas act their murderous deeds,
   Or Flanders bleed a martyr for her faith?
   Are you even Philip's wife? Impossible, —
   Beyond belief. A wife doth still possess
   Her husband's heart. To whom doth his belong?
   If ever, perchance, in some hot feverish mood,
   He yields to gentler impulse, begs he not
   Forgiveness of his sceptre and gray hairs?
 

QUEEN

 
   Who told you that my lot, at Philip's side
   Was one for men to pity?
 

CARLOS

 
                My own heart!
   Which feels, with burning pangs, how at my side
   It had been to be envied.
 

QUEEN

 
                 Thou vain man!
   What if my heart should tell me the reverse?
   How, sir, if Philip's watchful tenderness,
   The looks that silently proclaim his love,
   Touched me more deeply than his haughty son's
   Presumptuous eloquence? What, if an old man's
   Matured esteem —
 

CARLOS

 
            That makes a difference! Then,
   Why then, forgiveness! – I'd no thought of this;
   I had no thought that you could love the king.
 

QUEEN

 
   To honor him's my pleasure and my wish.
 

CARLOS

 
   Then you have never loved?
 

QUEEN

 
                 Singular question!
 

CARLOS

 
   Then you have never loved?
 

QUEEN

 
                 I love no longer!
 

CARLOS

 
   Because your heart forbids it, or your oath?
 

QUEEN

 
   Leave me; nor never touch this theme again.
 

CARLOS

 
   Because your oath forbids it, or your heart?
 

QUEEN

 
   Because my duty – but, alas, alas!
   To what avails this scrutiny of fate,
   Which we must both obey?
 

CARLOS

 
                Must – must obey?
 

QUEEN

 
   What means this solemn tone?
 

CARLOS

 
                  Thus much it means
   That Carlos is not one to yield to must
   Where he hath power to will! It means, besides,
   'That Carlos is not minded to live on,
   The most unhappy man in all his realm,
   When it would only cost the overthrow
   Of Spanish laws to be the happiest.
 

QUEEN

 
   Do I interpret rightly? Still you hope?
   Dare you hope on, when all is lost forever?
 

CARLOS

 
   I look on naught as lost – except the dead.
 

QUEEN

 
   For me – your mother, do you dare to hope?
 

[She fixes a penetrating look on him, then continues with dignity and earnestness.

 
   And yet why not? A new elected monarch
   Can do far more – make bonfires of the laws
   His father left – o'erthrow his monuments —
   Nay, more than this – for what shall hinder him? —
   Drag from his tomb, in the Escurial,
   The sacred corpse of his departed sire,
   Make it a public spectacle, and scatter
   Forth to the winds his desecrated dust.
   And then, at last, to fill the measure up —
 

CARLOS

 
   Merciful heavens, finish not the picture!
 

QUEEN

 
   End all by wedding with his mother.
 

CARLOS

 
                      Oh!
   Accursed son!
 

[He remains for some time paralyzed and speechless.

 
           Yes, now 'tis out, 'tis out!
   I see it clear as day. Oh, would it had
   Been veiled from me in everlasting darkness!
   Yes, thou art gone from me – gone – gone forever.
   The die is cast; and thou art lost to me.
   Oh, in that thought lies hell; and a hell, too,
   Lies in the other thought, to call thee mine.
   Oh, misery! I can bear my fate no longer,
   My very heart-strings strain as they would burst.
 

QUEEN

 
   Alas, alas! dear Charles, I feel it all,
   The nameless pang that rages in your breast;
   Your pangs are infinite, as is your love,
   And infinite as both will be the glory
   Of overmastering both. Up, be a man,
   Wrestle with them boldly. The prize is worthy
   Of a young warrior's high, heroic heart;
   Worthy of him in whom the virtues flow
   Of a long ancestry of mighty kings.
   Courage! my noble prince! Great Charles's grandson
   Begins the contest with undaunted heart,
   Where sons of meaner men would yield at once.
 

CARLOS

 
   Too late, too late! O God, it is too late!
 

QUEEN

 
   Too late to be a man! O Carlos, Carlos!
   How nobly shows our virtue when the heart
   Breaks in its exercise! The hand of Heaven
   Has set you up on high, – far higher, prince,
   Than millions of your brethren. All she took
   From others she bestowed with partial hand
   On thee, her favorite; and millions ask,
   What was your merit, thus before your birth
   To be endowed so far above mankind?
   Up, then, and justify the ways of Heaven;
   Deserve to take the lead of all the world,
   And make a sacrifice ne'er made before.
 

CARLOS

 
   I will, I will; I have a giant's strength
   To win your favor; but to lose you, none.
 

QUEEN

 
   Confess, my Carlos, I have harshly read thee;
   It is but spoken, and waywardness, and pride,
   Attract you thus so madly to your mother!
   The heart you lavish on myself belongs
   To the great empire you one day shall rule.
   Look that you sport not with your sacred trust!
   Love is your high vocation; until now
   It hath been wrongly bent upon your mother:
   Oh, lead it back upon your future realms,
   And so, instead of the fell stings of conscience,
   Enjoy the bliss of being more than man.
   Elizabeth has been your earliest love,
   Your second must be Spain. How gladly, Carlos,
   Will I give place to this more worthy choice!
 

CARLOS (overpowered by emotion, throws himself at her feet)

 
   How great thou art, my angel! Yes, I'll do
   All, all thou canst desire. So let it be.
 

[He rises.

 
   Here in the sight of heaven I stand and swear —
   I swear to thee, eternal – no, great Heaven! —
   Eternal silence only, – not oblivion!
 

QUEEN

 
   How can I ask from you what I myself
   Am not disposed to grant?
 

MARQUIS (hastening from the alley)

 
                 The king!
 

QUEEN

 
                      Oh God!
 

MARQUIS

 
   Away, away! fly from these precincts, prince!
 

QUEEN

 
   His jealousy is dreadful – should he see you —
 

CARLOS

 
   I'll stay.
 

QUEEN

 
         And who will be the victim then?
 

CARLOS (seizing the MARQUIS by the arm)

 
   Away, away! Come, Roderigo, come!
              [Goes and returns.
   What may I hope to carry hence with me?
 

QUEEN

 
   Your mother's friendship.
 

CARLOS

 
                 Friendship! Mother!
 

QUEEN

 
                            And
   These tears with it – they're from the Netherlands.
 

[She gives him some letters. Exit CARLOS with the MARQUIS.

The QUEEN looks restlessly round in search of her ladies, who are nowhere to be seen. As she is about to retire up, the KING enters.

SCENE VI

The KING, the QUEEN, DUKE ALVA, COUNT LERMA, DOMINGO, LADIES, GRANDEES, who remain at a little distance.

KING

 
   How, madam, alone; not even one of all
   Your ladies in attendance? Strange! Where are they?
 

QUEEN

 
   My gracious lord!
 

KING

 
             Why thus alone, I say?
 

[To his attendants.

 
   I'll take a strict account of this neglect.
   'Tis not to be forgiven. Who has the charge
   Of waiting on your majesty to-day?
 

QUEEN

 
   Oh, be not angry! Good, my lord, 'tis I
   Myself that am to blame – at my request
   The Princess Eboli went hence but now.
 

KING

 
   At your request!
 

QUEEN

 
            To call the nurse to me,
   With the Infanta, whom I longed to see.
 

KING

 
   And was your retinue dismissed for that?
   This only clears the lady first in waiting.
   Where was the second?
 

MONDECAR (who has returned and mixed with the other ladies, steps forward)

 
               Your majesty, I feel
   I am to blame for this.
 

KING

 
                You are, and so
   I give you ten years to reflect upon it,
   At a most tranquil distance from Madrid.
 

[The MARCHIONESS steps back weeping. General silence.

 
      The bystanders all look in confusion towards the QUEEN.
 

QUEEN

 
   What weep you for, dear marchioness?
 

[To the KING.

 
                      If I
   Have erred, my gracious liege, the crown I wear,
   And which I never sought, should save my blushes
   Is there a law in this your kingdom, sire,
   To summon monarch's daughters to the bar?
   Does force alone restrain your Spanish ladies?
   Or need they stronger safeguard than their virtue?
   Now pardon me, my liege; 'tis not my wont
   To send my ladies, who have served me still
   With smiling cheerfulness, away in tears.
 

Here, Mondecar

[She takes off her girdle and presents it to the MARCHIONESS.

 
            You have displeased the king,
   Not me. Take this remembrance of my favor,
   And of this hour. I'd have you quit the kingdom.
   You have only erred in Spain. In my dear France,
   All men are glad to wipe such tears away.
   And must I ever be reminded thus?
   In my dear France it had been otherwise.
 

[Leaning on the MARCHIONESS and covering her face.

KING

 
   Can a reproach, that in my love had birth,
   Afflict you so? A word so trouble you,
   Which the most anxious tenderness did prompt?
 

[He turns towards the GEANDEES.

 
   Here stand the assembled vassals of my throne.
   Did ever sleep descend upon these eyes,
   Till at the close of the returning day
   I've pondered, how the hearts of all my subjects
   Were beating 'neath the furthest cope of heaven?
   And should I feel more anxious for my throne
   Than for the partner of my bosom? No!
   My sword and Alva can protect my people,
   My eye alone assures thy love.
 

QUEEN

 
                   My liege,
   If that I have offended —
 

KING

 
                 I am called
   The richest monarch in the Christian world;
   The sun in my dominions never sets.
   All this another hath possessed before,
   And many another will possess hereafter.
   That is mine own. All that the monarch hath
   Belongs to chance – Elizabeth to Philip.
   This is the point in which I feel I'm mortal.
 

QUEEN

 
   What fear you, sire?
 

KING

 
              Should these gray hairs not fear?
   But the same instant that my fear begins
   It dies away forever.
 

[To the grandees.

 
               I run over
   The nobles of my court and miss the foremost.
   Where is my son, Don Carlos?
 

[No one answers.

 
                  He begins
   To give me cause of fear. He shuns my presence
   Since he came back from school at Alcala.
   His blood is hot. Why is his look so cold?
   His bearing all so stately and reserved?
   Be watchful, duke, I charge you.
 

ALVA

 
                    So I am:
   Long as a heart against this corslet beats,
   So long may Philip slumber undisturbed;
   And as God's cherub guards the gates of heaven
   So doth Duke Alva guard your royal throne.
 

LERMA

 
   Dare I, in all humility, presume
   To oppose the judgment of earth's wisest king?
   Too deeply I revere his gracious sire
   To judge the son so harshly. I fear much
   From his hot blood, but nothing from his heart.
 

KING

 
   Lerma, your speech is fair to soothe the father,
   But Alva here will be the monarch's shield —
   No more of this.
 

[Turning to his suite.

 
            Now speed we to Madrid,
   Our royal duties summon us. The plague
   Of heresy is rife among my people;
   Rebellion stalks within my Netherlands —
   The times are imminent. We must arrest
   These erring spirits by some dread example.
   The solemn oath which every Christian king
   Hath sworn to keep I will redeem to-morrow.
   'Twill be a day of doom unparalleled.
   Our court is bidden to the festival.
 

[He leads off the QUEEN, the rest follow.