Читайте только на Литрес

Kitap dosya olarak indirilemez ancak uygulamamız üzerinden veya online olarak web sitemizden okunabilir.

Kitabı oku: «Don Carlos», sayfa 5

Yazı tipi:

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 fondly 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
   A third important personage. The king
   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
Not quite alone?

[Looking inquisitively after the DUKE.

You have, as I observe,
A witness still by you.

DOMINGO

How?

PRINCESS

Who was he,
That left your side but now?

DOMINGO

                  It was Duke ALVA.
   Most gracious princess, he requests you will
   Admit him to an audience after me.

PRINCESS

Duke Alva! How? What can he want with me?
You can, perhaps, inform me?

DOMINGO

                  I? – and that
   Before I learn to what important chance
   I owe the favor, long denied, to stand
   Before the Princess Eboli once more?
           [Pauses awaiting her answer.
   Has any circumstance occurred at last
   To favor the king's wishes? Have my hopes
   Been not in vain, that more deliberate thought
   Would reconcile you to an offer which
   Caprice alone and waywardness could spurn?
   I seek your presence full of expectation —

PRINCESS

Was my last answer to the king conveyed?

DOMINGO

   I have delayed to inflict this mortal wound.
   There still is time, it rests with you, princess,
   To mitigate its rigor.

PRINCESS

Tell the king
That I expect him.

DOMINGO

May I, lovely princess,
Indeed accept this as your true reply?

PRINCESS

I do not jest. By heaven, you make me tremble
What have I done to make e'en you grow pale?

DOMINGO

Nay, lady, this surprise – so sudden – I
Can scarcely comprehend it.

PRINCESS

                  Reverend sir!
   You shall not comprehend it. Not for all
   The world would I you comprehended it.
   Enough for you it is so – spare yourself
   The trouble to investigate in thought,
   Whose eloquence hath wrought this wondrous change.
   But for your comfort let me add, you have
   No hand in this misdeed, – nor has the church.
   Although you've proved that cases might arise
   Wherein the church, to gain some noble end,
   Might use the persons of her youthful daughters!
   Such reasonings move not me; such motives, pure,
   Right reverend sir, are far too high for me.

DOMINGO

When they become superfluous, your grace,
I willingly retract them.

PRINCESS

                 Seek the king,
   And ask him as from me, that he will not
   Mistake me in this business. What I have been
   That am I still. 'Tis but the course of things
   Has changed. When I in anger spurned his suit,
   I deemed him truly happy in possessing
   Earth's fairest queen. I thought his faithful wife
   Deserved my sacrifice. I thought so then,
   But now I'm undeceived.

DOMINGO

Princess, go on!
I hear it all – we understand each other.

PRINCESS

   Enough. She is found out. I will not spare her.
   The hypocrite's unmasked! – She has deceived
   The king, all Spain, and me. She loves, I know
   She loves! I can bring proofs that will make you tremble.
   The king has been deceived – but he shall not,
   By heaven, go unrevenged! The saintly mask
   Of pure and superhuman self-denial
   I'll tear from her deceitful brow, that all
   May see the forehead of the shameless sinner.
   'Twill cost me dear, but here my triumph lies,
   That it will cost her infinitely more.

DOMINGO

Now all is ripe, let me call in the duke.

[Goes out.

PRINCESS (astonished)

What means all this?

SCENE XII

The PRINCESS, DUKE ALVA, DOMINGO.

DOMINGO (leading the DUKE in)

              Our tidings, good my lord,
   Come somewhat late. The Princess Eboli
   Reveals to us a secret we had meant
   Ourselves to impart to her.

ALVA

                  My visit, then,
   Will not so much surprise her, but I never
   Trust my own eyes in these discoveries.
   They need a woman's more discerning glance.

PRINCESS

Discoveries! How mean you?

DOMINGO

Would we knew
What place and fitter season you —

PRINCESS

                     Just So!
   To-morrow noon I will expect you both.
   Reasons I have why this clandestine guilt
   Should from the king no longer be concealed.

ALVA

   'Tis this that brings us here. The king must know it.
   And he shall hear the news from you, princess,
   From you alone: – for to what tongue would he
   Afford such ready credence as to yours,
   Friend and companion ever of his spouse?

DOMINGO

As yours, who more than any one at will
Can o'er him exercise supreme command.

ALVA

I am the prince's open enemy.

DOMINGO

   And that is what the world believes of me.
   The Princess Eboli's above suspicion.
   We are compelled to silence, but your duty,
   The duty of your office, calls on you
   To speak. The king shall not escape our hands.
   Let your hints rouse him, we'll complete the work.

ALVA

   It must be done at once, without delay;
   Each moment now is precious. In an hour
   The order may arrive for my departure.

DOMINGO (after a short pause, turns to the PRINCESS)

   Cannot some letters be discovered? Truly,
   An intercepted letter from the prince
   Would work with rare effect. Ay! let me see —
   Is it not so? You sleep, princess, I think,
   In the same chamber with her majesty?

PRINCESS

The next to hers. But of what use is that?

DOMINGO

Oh, for some skill in locks! Have you observed
Where she is wont to keep her casket key?

PRINCESS (in thought)

Yes, that might lead to something; yes, I think
The key is to be found.

DOMINGO

                Letters, you know,
   Need messengers. Her retinue is large;
   Who do you think could put us on the scent?
   Gold can do much.

ALVA

Can no one tell us whether
The prince has any trusty confidant?

DOMINGO

Not one; in all Madrid not one.

ALVA

That's strange!

DOMINGO

Rely on me in this. He holds in scorn
The universal court. I have my proofs.

ALVA

   Stay! It occurs to me, as I was leaving
   The queen's apartments, I beheld the prince
   In private conference with a page of hers.

PRINCESS (suddenly interrupting)

O no! that must have been of something else.

DOMINGO

Could we not ascertain the fact? It seems
Suspicious.

[To the DUKE.

Did you know the page, my lord!

PRINCESS

   Some trifle; what else could it be?
   Enough, I'm sure of that. So we shall meet again
   Before I see the king; and by that time
   We may discover much.

DOMINGO (leading her aside)

               What of the king?
   Say, may he hope? May I assure him so?
   And the entrancing hour which shall fulfil
   His fond desires, what shall I say of that?

PRINCESS

   In a few days I will feign sickness, and
   Shall be excused from waiting on the queen.
   Such is, you know, the custom of the court,
   And I may then remain in my apartment.

DOMINGO

'Tis well devised! Now the great game is won,
And we may bid defiance to all queens!

PRINCESS

Hark! I am called. I must attend the queen,
So fare you well.

[Exit

SCENE XIII

ALVA and DOMINGO.

DOMINGO (after a pause, during which he has watched the PRINCESS)

My lord! these roses, and —
Your battles —

ALVA

           And your god! – why, even so
   Thus we'll await the lightning that will scathe us!
                    [Exeunt.

SCENE XIV

A Carthusian Convent.
DON CARLOS and the PRIOR.

CARLOS (to the PRIOR, as he comes in)

Been here already? I am sorry for it.

PRIOR

Yes, thrice since morning. 'Tis about an hour
Since he went hence.

CARLOS

But he will sure return.
Has he not left some message?

PRIOR

Yes; he promised
To come again at noon.

CARLOS (going to a window, and looking round the country)

               Your convent lies
   Far from the public road. Yonder are seen
   The turrets of Madrid – just so – and there
   The Mansanares flows. The scenery is
   Exactly to my wish, and all around
   Is calm and still as secrecy itself.

PRIOR

Or as the entrance to another world.

CARLOS

   Most worthy sir, to your fidelity
   And honor, have I now intrusted all
   I hold most dear and sacred in the world.
   No mortal man must know, or even suspect,
   With whom I here hold secret assignation.
   Most weighty reasons prompt me to deny,
   To all the world, the friend whom I expect,
   Therefore I choose this convent. Are we safe
   From traitors and surprise? You recollect
   What you have sworn.

PRIOR

              Good sir, rely on us.
   A king's suspicion cannot pierce the grave,
   And curious ears haunts only those resorts
   Where wealth and passion dwell – but from these walls
   The world's forever banished.

CARLOS

                   You may think,
   Perhaps, beneath this seeming fear and caution
   There lies a guilty conscience?

PRIOR

I think nothing.

CARLOS

   If you imagine this, most holy father,
   You err – indeed you err. My secret shuns
   The sight of man – but not the eye of God.

PRIOR

   Such things concern us little. This retreat
   To guilt, and innocence alike, is open,
   And whether thy designs be good or ill,
   Thy purpose criminal or virtuous, – that
   We leave to thee to settle with thy heart.

CARLOS (with warmth)

   Our purpose never can disgrace your God.
   'Tis his own noblest work. To you indeed,
   I may reveal it.

PRIOR

            To what end, I pray?
   Forego, dear prince, this needless explanation.
   The world and all its troubles have been long
   Shut from my thoughts – in preparation for
   My last long journey. Why recall them to me
   For the brief space that must precede my death?
   'Tis little for salvation that we need —
   But the bell rings, and summons me to prayer.

[Exit PRIOR.

SCENE XV

DON CARLOS; the MARQUIS POSA enters.

CARLOS

At length once more, – at length —

MARQUIS

                     Oh, what a trial
   For the impatience of a friend! The sun
   Has risen twice – twice set – since Carlos' fate
   Has been resolved, and am I only now
   To learn it: speak, – you're reconciled!

CARLOS

With whom?

MARQUIS

The king! And Flanders, too, – its fate is settled!

CARLOS

The duke sets out to-morrow. That is fixed.

MARQUIS

   That cannot be – it is not surely so.
   Can all Madrid be so deceived? 'Tis said
   You had a private audience, and the king —

CARLOS

Remained inflexible, and we are now
Divided more than ever.

MARQUIS

Do you go
To Flanders?

CARLOS

No!

MARQUIS

Alas! my blighted hopes!

CARLOS

   Of this hereafter. Oh, Roderigo! since
   We parted last, what have I not endured?
   But first thy counsel? I must speak with her!

MARQUIS

Your mother? No! But wherefore?

CARLOS

                     I have hopes —
   But you turn pale! Be calm – I should be happy.
   And I shall be so: but of this anon —
   Advise me now, how I may speak with her.

MARQUIS

What mean you? What new feverish dream is this?

CARLOS

By the great God of wonders 'tis no dream!
'Tis truth, reality —

[Taking out the KING's letter to the PRINCESS EBOLI.

               Contained in this
   Important paper – yes, the queen is free, —
   Free before men and in the eyes of heaven;
   There read, and cease to wonder at my words.

MARQUIS (opening the letter)

   What do I here behold? The king's own hand!
             [After he has read it.
   To whom addressed?

CARLOS

             To Princess Eboli.
   Two days ago, a page who serves the queen,
   Brought me, from unknown hands, a key and letter,
   Which said that in the left wing of the palace,
   Where the queen lodges, lay a cabinet, —
   That there a lady whom I long had loved
   Awaited me. I straight obeyed the summons.

MARQUIS

Fool! madman! you obeyed it —

CARLOS

                   Not that I
   The writing knew; but there was only one
   Such woman, who could think herself adored
   By Carlos. With delight intoxicate
   I hastened to the spot. A heavenly song,
   Re-echoing from the innermost apartment,
   Served me for guide. I reached the cabinet —
   I entered and beheld – conceive my wonder!

MARQUIS

I guess it all —

CARLOS

            I had been lost forever,
   But that I fell into an angel's hands!
   She, hapless chance, by my imprudent looks,
   Deceived, had yielded to the sweet delusion
   And deemed herself the idol of my soul.
   Moved by the silent anguish of my breast,
   With thoughtless generosity, her heart
   Nobly determined to return my love;
   Deeming respectful fear had caused my silence,
   She dared to speak, and all her lovely soul
   Laid bare before me.

MARQUIS

              And with calm composure,
   You tell this tale! The Princess Eboli
   Saw through your heart; and doubtless she has pierced
   The inmost secret of your hidden love.
   You've wronged her deeply, and she rules the king.

CARLOS (confidently)

But she is virtuous!

MARQUIS

              She may be so
   From love's mere selfishness. But much I fear
   Such virtue – well I know it: know how little
   It hath the power to soar to that ideal,
   Which, first conceived in sweet and stately grace,
   From the pure soul's maternal soil, puts forth
   Spontaneous shoots, nor asks the gardener's aid
   To nurse its lavish blossoms into life.
   'Tis but a foreign plant, with labor reared,
   And warmth that poorly imitates the south,
   In a cold soil and an unfriendly clime.
   Call it what name you will – or education,
   Or principle, or artificial virtue
   Won from the heat of youth by art and cunning,
   In conflicts manifold – all noted down
   With scrupulous reckoning to that heaven's account,
   Which is its aim, and will requite its pains.
   Ask your own heart! Can she forgive the queen
   That you should scorn her dearly-purchased virtue,
   To pine in hopeless love for Philip's wife.

CARLOS

Knowest thou the princess, then, so well?

MARQUIS

                         Not I —
   I've scarcely seen her twice. And yet thus much
   I may remark. To me she still appears
   To shun alone the nakedness of vice,
   Too weakly proud of her imagined virtue.
   And then I mark the queen. How different, Carlos,
   Is everything that I behold in her!
   In native dignity, serene and calm,
   Wearing a careless cheerfulness – unschooled
   In all the trained restraints of conduct, far
   Removed from boldness and timidity,
   With firm, heroic step, she walks along
   The narrow middle path of rectitude,
   Unconscious of the worship she compels,
   Where she of self-approval never dreamed.
   Say, does my Carlos in this mirror trace
   The features of his Eboli? The princess
   Was constant while she loved; love was the price,
   The understood condition of her virtue.
   You failed to pay that price – 'twill therefore fall.

CARLOS (with warmth)

No, no!

[Hastily pacing the apartment.

        I tell thee, no! And, Roderigo,
   Ill it becomes thee thus to rob thy Carlos
   Of his high trust in human excellence,
   His chief, his dearest joy!

MARQUIS

                  Deserve I this?
   Friend of my soul, this would I never do —
   By heaven I would not. Oh, this Eboli!
   She were an angel to me, and before
   Her glory would I bend me prostrate down,
   In reverence deep as thine, if she were not
   The mistress of thy secret.

CARLOS

                  See how vain,
   How idle are thy fears! What proofs has she
   That will not stamp her maiden brow with shame?
   Say, will she purchase with her own dishonor
   The wretched satisfaction of revenge?

MARQUIS

Ay! to recall a blush, full many a one
Has doomed herself to infamy.

CARLOS (with increased vehemence)

                   Nay, that
   Is far too harsh – and cruel! She is proud
   And noble; well I know her, and fear nothing.
   Vain are your efforts to alarm my hopes.
   I must speak to my mother.

MARQUIS

Now? for what?

CARLOS

   Because I've nothing more to care for now.
   And I must know my fate. Only contrive
   That I may speak with her.

MARQUIS

And wilt thou show
This letter to her?

CARLOS

Question me no more,
But quickly find the means that I may see her.

MARQUIS (significantly)

Didst thou not tell me that thou lov'st thy mother?
And wouldst thou really show this letter to her?

[CARLOS fixes his eyes on the ground, and remains silent.

   I read a something, Carlos, in thy looks
   Unknown to me before. Thou turn'st thine eyes
   Away from me. Then it is true, and have I
   Judged thee aright? Here, let me see that paper.

[CARLOS gives him the letter, and the MARQUIS tears it.

CARLOS

What! art thou mad?

[Moderating his warmth.

In truth – I must confess it,
That letter was of deepest moment to me.

MARQUIS

So it appeared: on that account I tore it.

[The MARQUIS casts a penetrating look on the PRINCE,

      who surveys him with doubt and surprise. A long silence.
   Now speak to me with candor, Carlos. What
   Have desecrations of the royal bed
   To do with thee – thy love? Dost thou fear Philip?
   How are a husband's violated duties
   Allied with thee and thy audacious hopes?
   Has he sinned there, where thou hast placed thy love?
   Now then, in truth, I learn to comprehend thee —
   How ill till now I've understood thy love!

CARLOS

What dost thou think, Roderigo?

MARQUIS

                    Oh, I feel
   From what it is that I must wean myself.
   Once it was otherwise! Yes, once thy soul
   Was bounteous, rich, and warm, and there was room
   For a whole world in thy expanded heart.
   Those feelings are extinct – all swallowed up
   In one poor, petty, selfish passion. Now
   Thy heart is withered, dead! No tears last thou
   For the unhappy fate of wretched Flanders —
   No, not another tear. Oh, Carlos! see
   How poor, how beggarly, thou hast become,
   Since all thy love has centered in thyself!

CARLOS (flings himself into a chair. After a pause, with scarcely suppressed tears)

Too well I know thou lovest me no more!

MARQUIS

   Not so, my Carlos. Well I understand
   This fiery passion: 'tis the misdirection
   Of feelings pure and noble in themselves.
   The queen belonged to thee: the king, thy father,
   Despoiled thee of her – yet till now thou hast
   Been modestly distrustful of thy claims.
   Philip, perhaps, was worthy of her! Thou
   Scarce dared to breathe his sentence in a whisper —
   This letter has resolved thy doubts, and proved
   Thou art the worthier man. With haughty joy
   Thou saw'st before thee rise the doom that waits
   On tyranny convicted of a theft,
   But thou wert proud to be the injured one:
   Wrongs undeserved great souls can calmly suffer,
   Yet here thy fancy played thee false: thy pride
   Was touched with satisfaction, and thy heart
   Allowed itself to hope: I plainly saw
   This time, at least, thou didst not know thyself.

CARLOS (with emotion)

Thou'rt wrong, Roderigo; for my thoughts were far
Less noble than thy goodness would persuade me.

MARQUIS

   And am I then e'en here so little known?
   See, Carlos, when thou errest, 'tis my way,
   Amid a hundred virtues, still to find
   That one to which I may impute thy fall.
   Now, then, we understand each other better,
   And thou shalt have an audience of the queen.

CARLOS (falling on his neck)

Oh, how I blush beside thee!

MARQUIS

                  Take my word,
   And leave the rest to me. A wild, bold thought,
   A happy thought is dawning in my mind;
   And thou shalt hear it from a fairer mouth,
   I hasten to the queen. Perhaps to-morrow
   Thy wish may be achieved. Till then, my Carlos,
   Forget not this – "That a design conceived
   Of lofty reason, which involves the fate,
   The sufferings of mankind, though it be baffled
   Ten thousand times, should never be abandoned."
   Dost hear? Remember Flanders.

CARLOS

Yes! all, all
That thou and virtue bid me not forget.

MARQUIS (going to a window)

The time is up – I hear thy suite approaching.

[They embrace.

Crown prince again, and the vassal.

CARLOS

Dost thou go
Straight to Madrid?

MARQUIS

Yes, straight.

CARLOS

           Hold! one word more.
   How nearly it escaped me! Yet 'twas news
   Of deep importance. "Every letter now
   Sent to Brabant is opened by the king!"
   So be upon thy guard. The royal post
   Has secret orders.