SCENE VI.
The QUEEN, DON CARLOS, DUKE ALVA.
QUEEN (coming from her room alarmed).
How! naked swords?
[To the PRINCE in an indignant and commanding tone.
Prince Carlos!
CARLOS (agitated at the QUEEN's look, drops his arm, stands motionless,
then rushes to the DUKE, and embraces him).
Pardon, duke!
Your pardon, sir! Forget, forgive it all!
[Throws himself in silence at the QUEEN'S feet, then rising
suddenly, departs in confusion.
ALVA.
By heaven, 'tis strange!
QUEEN (remains a few moments as if in doubt, then retiring to her
apartment).
A word with you, Duke ALVA.
[Exit, followed by the DUKE.
SCENE VII.
The PRINCESS EBOLI's apartment.
The PRINCESS in a simple, but elegant dress, playing on the lute.
The QUEEN's PAGE enters.
PRINCESS (starting up suddenly)
He comes!
PAGE (abruptly).
Are you alone? I wonder much
He is not here already; but he must
Be here upon the instant.
PRINCESS.
Do you say must!
Then he will come, this much is certain then.
PAGE.
He's close upon my steps. You are beloved,
Adored, and with more passionate regard
Than mortal ever was, or can be loved.
Oh! what a scene I witnessed!
PRINCESS (impatiently draws him to her).
Quick, you spoke
With him! What said he? Tell me straight—
How did he look? what were his words? And say—
Did he appear embarrassed or confused
And did he guess who sent the key to him?
Be quick! or did he not? He did not guess
At all, perhaps! or guessed amiss! Come, speak,
How! not a word to answer me? Oh, fie!
You never were so dull—so slow before,
'Tis past all patience.
PAGE.
Dearest lady, hear me!
Both key and note I placed within his hands,
In the queen's antechamber, and he started
And gazed with wonder when I told him that
A lady sent me!
PRINCESS.
Did he start? go on!
That's excellent. Proceed, what next ensued?
PAGE.
I would have told him more, but he grew pale,
And snatched the letter from my hand, and said
With look of deadly menace, he knew all.
He read the letter with confusion through,
And straight began to tremble.
PRINCESS.
He knew all!
He knew it all? Were those his very words?
PAGE.
He asked me, and again he asked, if you
With your own hands had given me the letter?
PRINCESS.
If I? Then did he mention me by name?
PAGE.
By name! no name he mentioned: there might be
Listeners, he said, about the palace, who
Might to the king disclose it.
PRINCESS (surprised).
Said he that?
PAGE.
He further said, it much concerned the king;
Deeply concerned—to know of that same letter.
PRINCESS.
The king! Nay, are you sure you heard him right?
The king! Was that the very word he used?
PAGE.
It was. He called it a most perilous secret,
And warned me to be strictly on my guard,
Never with word or look to give the king
Occasion for suspicion.
PRINCESS (after a pause, with astonishment).
All agrees!
It can be nothing else—he must have heard
The tale—'tis very strange! Who could have told him,
I wonder who? The eagle eye of love
Alone could pierce so far. But tell me further—
He read the letter.
PAGE.
Which, he said, conveyed
Such bliss as made him tremble, and till then
He had not dared to dream of. As he spoke
The duke, by evil chance, approached the room,
And this compelled us——
PRINCESS (angrily).
What in all the world
Could bring the duke to him at such a time?
What can detain him? Why appears he not?
See how you've been deceived; how truly blest
Might he have been already—in the time
You've taken to describe his wishes to me!
PAGE.
The duke, I fear——
PRINCESS.
Again, the duke! What can
The duke want here? What should a warrior want
With my soft dreams of happiness? He should
Have left him there, or sent him from his presence.
Where is the man may not be treated thus?
But Carlos seems as little versed in love
As in a woman's heart—he little knows
What minutes are. But hark! I hear a step;
Away, away!
[PAGE hastens out.
Where have I laid my lute?
I must not seem to wait for him. My song
Shall be a signal to him.
SCENE VIII.
The PRINCESS, DON CARLOS.
The PRINCESS has thrown herself upon an ottoman,
and plays.
CARLOS (rushes in; he recognizes the PRINCESS, and stands thunderstruck).
Gracious Heaven!
Where am I?
PRINCESS (lets her lute fall, and meeting him)
What? Prince Carlos! yes, in truth.
CARLOS.
Where am I? Senseless error; I have missed
The right apartment.
PRINCESS.
With what dexterous skill
Carlos contrives to hit the very room
Where ladies sit alone!
CARLOS.
Your pardon, princess!
I found—I found the antechamber open.
PRINCESS.
Can it be possible? I fastened it
Myself; at least I thought so——
CARLOS.
Ay! you thought,
You only thought so; rest assured you did not.
You meant to lock it, that I well believe:
But most assuredly it was not locked.
A lute's sweet sounds attracted me, some hand
Touched it with skill; say, was it not a lute?
[Looking round inquiringly.
Yes, there it lies, and Heaven can bear me witness
I love the lute to madness. I became
All ear, forgot myself in the sweet strain,
And rushed into the chamber to behold
The lovely eyes of the divine musician
Who charmed me with the magic of her tones.
PRINCESS.
Innocent curiosity, no doubt!
But it was soon appeased, as I can prove.
[After a short silence, significantly.
I must respect the modesty that has,
To spare a woman's blushes, thus involved
Itself in so much fiction.
CARLOS (with sincerity).
Nay, I feel
I but augment my deep embarrassment,
In vain attempt to extricate myself.
Excuse me for a part I cannot play.
In this remote apartment, you perhaps
Have sought a refuge from the world, to pour
The inmost wishes of your secret heart
Remote from man's distracting eye. By me,
Unhappy that I am, your heavenly dreams
Are all disturbed, and the atonement now
Must be my speedy absence.
[Going.
PRINCESS (surprised and confused, but immediately recovering herself).
Oh! that step
Were cruel, prince, indeed!
CARLOS.
Princess, I feel
What such a look in such a place imports:
This virtuous embarrassment has claims
To which my manhood never can be deaf.
Woe to the wretch whose boldness takes new fire
From the pure blush of maiden modesty!
I am a coward when a woman trembles.
PRINCESS.
Is't possible?—such noble self-control
In one so young, and he a monarch's son!
Now, prince, indeed you shall remain with me,
It is my own request, and you must stay.
Near such high virtue, every maiden fear
Takes wing at once; but your appearance here
Disturbed me in a favorite air, and now
Your penalty shall be to hear me sing it.
CARLOS (sits down near the PRINCESS, not without reluctance).
A penalty delightful as the sin!
And sooth to say, the subject of the song
Was so divine, again and yet again
I'd gladly hear it.
PRINCESS
What! you heard it all?
Nay, that was too bad, prince. It was, I think,
A song of love.
CARLOS.
And of successful love,
If I mistake not—dear delicious theme
From those most beauteous lips—but scarce so true,
Methinks, as beautiful.
PRINCESS.
What! not so true?
Then do you doubt the tale?
CARLOS.
I almost doubt
That Carlos and the Princess Eboli,
When they discourse on such a theme as love,
May not quite understand each other's hearts.
[The PRINCESS starts; he observes it, and continues
with playful gallantry.
Who would believe those rosy-tinted cheeks
Concealed a heart torn by the pangs of love.
Is it within the range of wayward chance
That the fair Princess Eboli should sigh
Unheard—unanswered? Love is only known
By him who hopelessly persists in love.
PRINCESS (with all her former vivacity).
Hush! what a dreadful thought! this fate indeed
Appears to follow you of all mankind,
Especially to-day.
[Taking his hand with insinuating interest.
You are not happy,
Dear prince—you're sad! I know too well you suffer,
And wherefore, prince? When with such loud appeal
The world invites you to enjoy its bliss—
And nature on you pours her bounteous gifts,
And spreads around you all life's sweetest joys.
You, a great monarch's son, and more—far more—
E'en in your cradle with such gifts endowed
As far eclipsed the splendor of your rank.
You, who in those strict courts where women rule,
And pass, without appeal, unerring sentence
On manly worth and honor, even there
Find partial judges. You, who with a look
Can prove victorious, and whose very coldness
Kindles aflame; and who, when warmed with passion,
Can make a paradise, and scatter round
The bliss of heaven, the rapture of the gods.
The man whom nature has adorned with gifts
To render thousands happy, gifts which she
Bestows on few—that such a man as this
Should know what misery is! Thou, gracious Heaven,
That gavest him all those blessings, why deny
Him eyes to see the conquests he has made?
CARLOS (who has been lost in absence of mind, suddenly recovers himself
by the silence of the PRINCESS, and starts up).
Charming! inimitable! Princess, sing
That passage, pray, again.
PRINCESS (looking at him with astonishment).
Where, Carlos, were
Your thoughts the while?
CARLOS (jumps up).
By heaven, you do remind me
In proper time—I must away—and quickly.
PRINCESS (holding him back).
Whither away?
CARLOS.
Into the open air.
Nay, do not hold me, princess, for I feel
As though the world behind me were in flames.
PRINCESS (holding him forcibly back).
What troubles you? Whence comes these strange, these wild,
Unnatural looks? Nay, answer me!
[CARLOS stops to reflect, she draws him to the sofa to her.
Dear Carlos,
You need repose, your blood is feverish.
Come, sit by me: dispel these gloomy fancies.
Ask yourself frankly can your head explain
The tumult of your heart—and if it can—
Say, can no knight be found in all the court,
No lady, generous as fair, to cure you—
Rather, I should have said, to understand you?
What, no one?
CARLOS (hastily, without thinking).
If the Princess Eboli——
PRINCESS (delighted, quickly).
Indeed!
CARLOS.
Would write a letter for me, a few words
Of kindly intercession to my father;—
They say your influence is great.
PRINCESS.
Who says so?
[Aside.
Ha! was it jealousy that held thee mute!
CARLOS.
Perchance my story is already public.
I had a sudden wish to visit Brabant
Merely to win my spurs—no more. The king,
Kind soul, is fearful the fatigues of war
Might spoil my singing!
PRINCESS.
Prince, you play me false!
Confess that by this serpent subterfuge
You would mislead me. Look me in the face,
Deceitful one! and say would he whose thoughts
Were only bent on warlike deeds—would he
E'er stoop so low as, with deceitful hand,
To steal fair ladies' ribbons when they drop,
And then—your pardon! hoard them—with such care?
[With light action she opens his shirt frill, and seizes
a ribbon which is there concealed.
CARLOS (drawing back with amazement).
Nay, princess—that's too much—I am betrayed.
You're not to be deceived. You are in league
With spirits and with demons!
PRINCESS.
Are you then
Surprised at this? What will you wager, Carlos
But I recall some stories to your heart?
Nay, try it with me; ask whate'er you please,
And if the triflings of my sportive fancy—
The sound half-uttered by the air absorbed—
The smile of joy checked by returning gloom—
If motions—looks from your own soul concealed
Have not escaped my notice—judge if I
Can err when thou wouldst have me understand thee?
CARLOS.
Why, this is boldly ventured; I accept
The wager, princess. Then you undertake
To make discoveries in my secret heart
Unknown even to myself.
PRINCESS (displeased, but earnestly).
Unknown to thee!
Reflect a moment, prince! Nay, look around;
This boudoir's not the chamber of the queen,
Where small deceits are practised with full license.
You start, a sudden blush o'erspreads your face.
Who is so bold, so idle, you would ask,
As to watch Carlos when he deems himself
From scrutiny secure? Who was it, then,
At the last palace-ball observed you leave
The queen, your partner, standing in the dance,
And join, with eager haste, the neighboring couple,
To offer to the Princess Eboli
The hand your royal partner should have claimed?
An error, prince, his majesty himself,
Who just then entered the apartment, noticed.
CARLOS (with ironical smile).
His majesty? And did he really so?
Of all men he should not have seen it.
PRINCESS.
Nor yet that other scene within the chapel,
Which doubtless Carlos hath long since forgotten.
Prostrate before the holy Virgin's image,
You lay in prayer, when suddenly you heard—
'Twas not your fault—a rustling from behind
Of ladies' dresses. Then did Philip's son,
A youth of hero courage, tremble like
A heretic before the holy office.
On his pale lips died the half-uttered prayer.
In ecstasy of passion, prince—the scene
Was truly touching—for you seized the hand,
The blessed Virgin's cold and holy hand,
And showered your burning kisses on the marble.
CARLOS.
Princess, you wrong me: that was pure devotion!
PRINCESS.
Indeed! that's quite another thing. Perhaps
It was the fear of losing, then, at cards,
When you were seated with the queen and me,
And you with dexterous skill purloined my glove.
[CARLOS starts surprised.
That prompted you to play it for a card?
CARLOS.
What words are these? O Heaven, what have I done?
PRINCESS.
Nothing I hope of which you need repent!
How pleasantly was I surprised to find
Concealed within the glove a little note,
Full of the warmest tenderest romance,
CARLOS (interrupting her suddenly).
Mere poetry! no more. My fancy teems
With idle bubbles oft, which break as soon
As they arise—and this was one of them;
So, prithee, let us talk of it no more.
PRINCESS (leaving him with astonishment, and regarding him for
some time at a distance).
I am exhausted—all attempts are vain
To hold this youth. He still eludes my grasp.
[Remains silent a few moments.
But stay! Perchance 'tis man's unbounded pride,
That thus to add a zest to my delight.
Assumes a mask of timid diffidence.
'Tis so.
[She approaches the PRINCE again, and looks at him doubtingly.
Explain yourself, prince, I entreat you.
For here I stand before a magic casket,
Which all my keys are powerless to unlock.
CARLOS.
As I before you stand.
PRINCESS (leaves him suddenly, walks a few steps up and down in silence,
apparently lost in deep thought. After a pause, gravely and solemnly).
Then thus at last—
I must resolve to speak, and Carlos, you
Shall be my judge. Yours is a noble nature,
You are a prince—a knight—a man of honor.
I throw myself upon your heart—protect me
Or if I'm lost beyond redemption's power,
Give me your tears in pity for my fate.
[The PRINCE draws nearer.
A daring favorite of the king demands
My hand—his name Ruy Gomez, Count of Silva,
The king consents—the bargain has been struck,
And I am sold already to his creature.
CARLOS (with evident emotion).
Sold! you sold! Another bargain, then,
Concluded by this royal southern trader!
PRINCESS.
No; but hear all—'tis not enough that I
Am sacrificed to cold state policy,
A snare is laid to entrap my innocence.
Here is a letter will unmask the saint!
[CARLOS takes the paper, and without reading it listens
with impatience to her recital.
Where Shall I find protection, prince? Till now
My virtue was defended by my pride,
At length——
CARLOS.
At length you yielded! Yielded? No.
For God's sake say not so!
PRINCESS.
Yielded! to whom?
Poor piteous reasoning. Weak beyond contempt
Your haughty minds, who hold a woman's favor,
And love's pure joys, as wares to traffic for!
Love is the only treasure on the face
Of this wide earth that knows no purchaser
Besides itself—love has no price but love.
It is the costly gem, beyond all price,
Which I must freely give away, or—bury
For ever unenjoyed—like that proud merchant
Whom not the wealth of all the rich Rialto
Could tempt—a great rebuke to kings! to save
From the deep ocean waves his matchless pearl,
Too proud to barter it beneath its worth!
CARLOS (aside).
Now, by great heaven, this woman's beautiful.
PRINCESS.
Call it caprice or pride, I ne'er will make
Division of my joys. To him, alone,
I choose as mine, I give up all forever.
One only sacrifice I make; but that
Shall be eternal. One true heart alone
My love shall render happy: but that one
I'll elevate to God. The keen delight
Of mingling souls—the kiss—the swimming joys
Of that delicious hour when lovers meet,
The magic power of heavenly beauty—all
Are sister colors of a single ray—
Leaves of one single blossom. Shall I tear
One petal from this sweet, this lovely flower,
With reckless hand, and mar its beauteous chalice?
Shall I degrade the dignity of woman,
The masterpiece of the Almighty's hand,
To charm the evening of a reveller?
CARLOS.
Incredible! that in Madrid should dwell
This matchless creature! and unknown to me
Until this day.
PRINCESS.
Long since had I forsaken
This court—the world—and in some blest retreat
Immured myself; but one tie binds me still
Too firmly to existence. Perhaps—alas!
'Tis but a phantom—but 'tis dear to me.
I love—but am not loved in turn.
CARLOS (full of ardor, going towards her).
You are!
As true as God is throned in heaven! I swear
You are—you are unspeakably beloved.
PRINCESS.
You swear it, you!—sure 'twas an angel's voice.
Oh, if you swear it, Carlos, I'll believe it.
Then I am truly loved!
CARLOS (embracing her with tenderness).
Bewitching maid,
Thou creature worthy of idolatry
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 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.
MARQUIS.
How have you learned this?
CARLOS.
Don Raymond Taxis is my trusty friend.
MARQUIS (after a pause).
Well! then they may be sent through Germany.
[Exeunt on different sides.