PROLOGUE
He doubted much, and long was at a stand.
He knew the fame and memory of kings
Were to be treated of as sacred things,
Not as they're represented in this age,
Where they appear the lumber of the stage;
Used only just for reconciling tools,
Or what is worse, made villains all, or fools.
Besides, the characters he shows to-night,
He found were very difficult to write:
He found the fame of France and Spain at stake,
Therefore long paused, and feared which part to take;
Till this his judgment safest understood,
To make them both heroic as he could.
But now the greatest stop was yet unpassed;
He found himself, alas! confined too fast.
He is a man of pleasure, sirs, like you,
And therefore hardly could to business bow;
Till at the last he did this conquest get,
To make his pleasure whetstone to his wit;
So sometimes for variety he writ.
But as those blockheads, who discourse by rote,
Sometimes speak sense, although they rarely know't;
So he scarce knew to what his work would grow,
But 'twas a play, because it would be so:
Yet well he knows this is a weak pretence,
For idleness is the worst want of sense.
Let him not now of carelessness be taxed,
He'll write in earnest, when he writes the next:
Meanwhile,—
Prune his superfluous branches, never spare;
Yet do it kindly, be not too severe:
He may bear better fruit another year.
DRAMATIS PERSONÆ.
- Philip II., King of Spain.
- Don Carlos, his Son.
- Don John of Austria.
- Marquis of Posa, the Prince's Confidant.
- Ruy-Gomez.
- Officer of the Guards.
- Queen of Spain.
- Duchess of Eboli, Wife of Ruy-Gomez.
- Henrietta.
- Garcia.
SCENE—The Court of Spain.
DON CARLOS,
PRINCE OF SPAIN.
ACT THE FIRST.
SCENE I.—An Apartment in the Palace.
King and Queen, Don Carlos, the Marquis of Posa, Ruy-Gomez, the Duchess of Eboli, Henrietta, Garcia, Attendants, and Guards discovered.
Add weight to the bright diadem he wears;
Like me, in all that he can wish for, blest.
Renown and love, the gentlest calms of rest,
And peace, adorn my brow, enrich my breast.
To me great nations tributary are;
Though, whilst my vast dominions spread so far,
Where most I reign, I must pay homage, here. [To the Queen.
Approach, bright mistress of my purest vows:
Now show me him that more religion owes
To Heaven, or to its altars more devoutly bows.
Are forced to see their dearest treasures lost.
Curse! what's obedience? a false notion made
By priests, who when they found old cheats decayed,
By such new arts kept up declining trade. [Aside.
A father! Oh!
His joy, and when all's sunshine wear a cloud?
My son, thus for thy glory I provide;
From this fair charmer, and our royal bride,
Shall such a noble race of heroes spring,
As may adorn the court when thou art king.
Than what already I enjoy in you.
The brightest ornaments of crowns and powers
I only can admire, as they are yours.
Of transport.
As much admire it as I reverence you.
Let me express the mighty joy I feel:
Thus, sir, I pay my duty when I kneel. [Kneels to the Queen.
I'm sure 'tis so, if I may judge by mine. [Aside.
Alas! my lord, you're too obsequious now. [To Don Carlos.
Here would I worship, and for ever kneel.
And in his looks an earnestness I read,
Which from no common causes can proceed. [Aside.
I'll probe him deep. When, when, my dearest joy,
[To the Queen.
[To the Queen.
But you must lay aside that title now.
The doctrine which I preach, by Heaven, is good:—
Oh, the impetuous sallies of my blood!
Now fate her utmost malice has fulfilled.
Carlos, farewell; for since I must submit—
My son, all troubles from thy breast resign,
And let thy father's happiness be thine.
[Exeunt King and Queen, Ruy-Gomez, Duchess of Eboli, Henrietta, Garcia, and Attendants.
To enjoy so much divinity below!
Didst thou behold her, Posa?
O Posa, once she was decreed for mine:
Once I had hopes of bliss. Hadst thou but seen
How blest, how proud I was if I could get
But leave to lie a prostrate at her feet!
Even with a look I could my pains beguile;
Nay, she in pity too would sometimes smile;
Till at the last my vows successful proved,
And one day, sighing, she confessed she loved.
Oh! then I found no limits to our joy,
With eyes thus languishing we looked all day;
So vigorous and strong we darted beams,
Our meeting glances kindled into flames;
Nothing we found that promised not delight:
For when rude shades deprived us of the light,
As we had gazed all day, we dreamt all night.
But, after all these labours undergone,
A cruel father thus destroys his son;
In their full height my choicest hopes beguiles,
And robs me of the fruit of all my toils.
My dearest Posa, thou wert ever kind;
Bring thy best counsel, and direct my mind.
Re-enter Ruy-Gomez.
Ah! though you've lost a beauty well might make
Your strictest honour and your duty shake,
Let not a father's ills[11] misguide your mind,
But be obedient, though he has proved unkind.
I have no leisure now to hear thee preach:
Still you'll usurp a power o'er my will.
Nor need it be so soon forgot that I
Have been your guardian from your infancy.
When to my charge committed, I alone
Instructed you how to expect a crown;
Taught you ambition, and war's noblest arts,
How to lead armies, and to conquer hearts;
Whilst, though but young,
You would with pleasure read of sieges got,
And smile to hear of bloody battles fought:
And, still, though not control, I may advise,
Too well I know the falsehood of thy soul,
Which to my father rendered me so foul
That hardly as his son a smile I've known,
But always as a traitor met his frown.
My forward honour was ambition called;
Or, if my friends my early fame extolled,
You damped my father's smiles still as they sprung,
Persuading I repined he lived too long.
So all my hopes by you were frustrate made,
And, robbed of sunshine, withered in the shade.
Whilst, my good patriot! you disposed the crown
Out of my reach, to have it in your own.
But I'll prevent your policy—
This accusation is unjust and hard.
The king, your father, would not so upbraid
My age: is all my service thus repaid?
But I will hence, and let my master hear
How generously you reward my care;
Who, on my just complaint, I doubt not, will
At least redress the injuries I feel. [Exit.
Your fate; his interest with the king is large.
Besides, you know he has already seen
The transports of your passion for the queen.
The use he may of that advantage make
You ought at least to avoid, but for her sake.
I never yet learned the dissembling art.
Go, call him back; tell him that I implore
His pardon, and will ne'er offend him more.
The queen! kind Heaven, make her thy nearest care!
Oh! fly, o'ertake him ere he goes too far. [Exit Marquis of Posa.
How are we bandied up and down by fate!
By so much more unhappy as we're great.
A prince, and heir to Spain's great monarch born,
I'm forced to court a slave whom most I scorn;
Who like a bramble 'mongst a cedar's boughs,
Vexes his peace under whose shades he grows.
Now he returns: assist me falsehood—down,
Thou rebel passion—
Re-enter Ruy-Gomez and the Marquis of Posa.
[To Ruy-Gomez.
Heaven! can I do this abject thing, and live? [Aside.
When to his vassal thus a prince descends;
Though it was something rigid and unkind,
To upbraid your faithful servant and your friend.
Between us two let there be henceforth peace.
So may just Heaven assist me when I sue,
As I to Gomez always will be true.
All the return sincerity can make.
Blest in your father's love, as I'm in yours,
May not one fear disturb your happy hours!
Crowned with success may all your wishes be,
And you ne'er find worse enemies than me!
[Exeunt Don Carlos and Marquis of Posa.
Of too long date his ruin is decreed.
Spain's early hopes of him have been my fears;
'Twas I the charge had of his tender years,
And read in all the progress of his growth,
An untamed, haughty, hot, and furious youth;
A will unruly, and a spirit wild;
At all my precepts still with scorn he smiled.
Or when, by the power I from his father had,
Any restraint was on his pleasures laid,
Ushered with frowns on me his soul would rise,
And threaten future vengeance from his eyes.
But now to all my fears I bid adieu;
For, prince, I'll humble both your fate and you.
Here comes the star by whom my course I steer.
Re-enter Duchess of Eboli.
Losing the pleasures of this happy night?
When all the court are melting in delight,
You toil with the dull business of the state.
Thou takest up all the business of my heart,
And only to it pleasure canst impart.
Say, say, my goddess, when shall I be blest?
It is an age since I was happy last.
Your love, but offer something to your ear.
If you have well observed, you must have seen,
To-day, some strange disorders in the queen.
Impatient longings for the happiness.
Approaching joys will so disturb the soul,
As needles always tremble near the pole.
I've seen the wrongs which you from Carlos feel;
And know your judgment is too good to lose
Advantage, where you may so safely choose.
Say now, if I inform you how you may
With full revenge all your past wrongs repay—
My will, my life, my hopes, are all thy own.
What of the queen and prince you can descry;
Watch every look, each quick and subtle glance;
Then we'll from all produce such circumstance
As shall the king's new jealousy advance.
Nay, sir, I'll try what mighty love you show:
If you will make me great, begin it now.
How, sir, d'ye stand considering what to do?
A queen, and prince, three goodly flowers spring:
Whilst on them like a subtle bee I'll prey,
Till, so their strength and virtue drawn away,
Unable to recover, each shall droop,
Grow pale, and fading hang his withered top:
Then, fraught with thyme, triumphant back I'll come,
And unlade all the precious sweets at home. [Exit.
And make what haste thou canst to be undone,
Whilst I have nobler business of my own.
Was I bred up in greatness; have I been
Nurtured with glorious hopes to be a queen;
Made love my study, and with practised charms
Prepared myself to meet a monarch's arms;
At last to be condemned to the embrace
Of one whom nature made to her disgrace,
An old, imperfect, feeble dotard, who
Can only tell (alas!) what he would do?
On him to throw away my youth and bloom,
As jewels that are lost to enrich a tomb?
No, though all hopes are in a husband dead,
Another path to happiness I'll tread;
Elsewhere find joys which I'm in him denied:
Yet, while he can, let the slave serve my pride.
Still I'll in pleasure live, in glory shine;
The gallant, youthful Austria shall be mine:
To him with all my force of charms I'll move:
Let others toil for greatness, whilst I love. [Exit.
FOOTNOTES:
[11] i.e. Faults.
ACT THE SECOND.
SCENE I.—An Orange Grove, near the Palace.
Enter Don John of Austria.
That law by which herself is now betrayed?
Ere man's corruptions made him wretched, he
Was born most noble that was born most free:
Each of himself was lord, and, unconfined,
Obeyed the dictates of his god-like mind.
Law was an innovation brought in since,
When fools began to love obedience,
And called their slavery safety and defence.
My glorious father got me in his heat,
When all he did was eminently great:
When warlike Belgia felt his conquering power,
And the proud Germans owned him emperor,
Why should it be a stain then on my blood,
Because I came not in the common road,
But born obscure, and so more like a god?
No; though his diadem another wear,
At least to all his pleasures I'll be heir.
Here I should meet my Eboli, my fair.
Enter Duchess of Eboli.
When loose, and in her chariot drawn by doves,
She rides to meet the warlike god she loves.
And hazard I am come to meet you here.
And, mounted by their wishes, soar on high,
Where softest ecstasies and transports are,
While fear alone disturbs the lower air.
Or, if we could with happiest secrecy
Enjoy these sweets, oh, whither shall we fly
To escape that sight whence we can nothing hide?
I'll show thee one more pleasant, that which Jove
Set forth to the old world, when from above
He came himself, and taught his mortals love.
My lord, you might consider who I am.
Regard?
But can so poor
A thought possess your breast, to think that I
Will brand my name with lust and infamy?
Love's sweets. Oh! let me fly into those eyes!
There's something in them leads my soul astray:
As he who in a necromancer's glass
Beholds his wished-for fortune by him pass,
Yet still with greedy eyes
Pursues the vision as it glides away.
Your looks speak danger; I feel something too
That bids me fly, yet will not let me go. [Half aside.
See at your feet the humble Austria falls. [Kneels.
Speak, wouldst thou have an empire at thy feet?
Say, wouldst thou rule the world? I'll conquer it.
If you would be but—
I'll be confined for ever in thy arms:
Nay, I'll not one short minute from thee stray;
Myself I'll on thy tender bosom lay,
Till in its warmths I'm melted all away.
Enter Garcia.
[Kisses her hand.
[Pulls it back.
As a sick wretch, that on his death-bed lies,
Loth with his friends to part, just as he dies,
Thus sends his soul in wishes from his eyes. [Exit.
Yet he in conquest is not gone too far;
Too easily I'll not myself resign:
Ere I am his, I'll make him surely mine;
Draw him by subtle baits into the trap,
Till he's too far got in to make escape;
About him swiftly the soft snare I'll cast,
And when I have him there, I'll hold him fast.
Enter Ruy-Gomez.
The solitary paths of dark revenge:
The fearful deer in herds to coverts run,
While beasts of prey affect to roam alone.
You little think what my poor heart endures;
Whilst, with your absence tortured, I in vain
Pant after joys I ne'er can hope to gain.
You should forgive those faults yourself have made.
Remember you the task you gave?
Your pardon, for I do remember now. [Sighs.
If I forgot, 'twas love had all my mind;
And 'tis no sin, I hope, to be too kind.
O thou most precious blessing of my life!
I long to see you revel in the spoil.
To incense an angry father 'gainst his son.
I to advantage told him all that's past,
Described with art each amorous glance they cast:
So that this night he shunned the marriage-bed,
Which through the court has various murmurs spread.
Enter the King, attended by the Marquis of Posa.
Kind Heaven, but grant the storm may higher rise!
If't grow too loud, I'll lurk in some dark cell,
And laugh to hear my magic work so well.
Is fading greatness! or how vain is power!
Where all the mighty conquests I have seen?
I, who o'er nations have victorious been,
Now cannot quell one little foe within.
Cursed jealousy, that poisons all love's sweets!
How heavy on my heart the invader sits!
O Gomez, thou hast given my mortal wound.
A king his power unbounded ought to have,
And, ruling all, should not be passion's slave.
To the sad cause of what I now endure.
Know'st thou what poison thou didst lately give,
And dost not wonder to behold me live?
And never studied any thing beside.
Quickly, what passed between them more, declare.
How greedily my soul to ruin flies!
As he who in a fever burning lies
First of his friends does for a drop implore,
Which tasted once, unable to give o'er,
Knows 'tis his bane, yet still thirsts after more.
Oh, then—
Tis true, they gazed, but 'twas not very long.
To Heaven; and they have changed theirs at their eyes.
Hence, abject fears, begone! she's all divine!
Speak, friends, can angels in perfection sin?
Their influence on poor mortals here below.
Seems to move with me in my glorious sphere.
True, she may shower promiscuous blessings down
On slaves that gaze for what falls from a crown;
But when too kindly she his brightness sees,
It robs my lustre to add more to his.
But oh! I dare not think
That those eyes should at least so humble be
To stoop to him, when they had vanquished me.
That he of virtue has too great a sense
To cherish but a thought beyond the bound
Of strictest duty. He to me has owned
How much was to his former passion due,
Yet still confessed he above all prized you.
Be not more charitable than you're wise.
The king is sick, and we should give him ease,
But first find out the depth of his disease.
Too sudden cures have oft pernicious grown;
We must not heal up festered wounds too soon.
Wounding to let me linger in the pain.
I'm stung, and won't the torture long endure:
Serpents that wound have blood those wounds to cure.
To question virtue in a queen so fair,
Though she her eyes cast on your glorious son!
Men oft see treasures, and yet covet none.
The truth disguised in obscure contraries.
No, I will trace his windings; all her dark
And subtlest paths, each little action mark,
If she prove false, as yet I fear, she dies.
Enter Queen attended, and Henrietta.
For all around she'll her bright beams display:
Should I to gaze on the wild meteor stay,
Spite of myself I shall be led astray.
[Exeunt King and Marquis of Posa.
Sure ere his love he'd let me know his power,
As Heaven oft thunders ere it sends a shower.
This Spanish gravity is very odd:
All things are by severity so awed,
That little Love dares hardly peep abroad.
When frail uneasy men themselves neglect?
Some little warmth perhaps may be behind,
Though such as in extinguished fires you'll find;
Where some remains of heat the ashes hold,
Which, if for more you open, straight are cold.
Interest, that bold imposer on our fate;
That always to dark ends misguides our wills,
And with false happiness smooths o'er our ills.
It was by that unhappy France was led,
When, though by contract I should Carlos wed,
I was an offering made to Philip's bed.
Why sigh'st thou, Henrietta?
Know your sad fate, and yet from grief refrain?
With pleasure oft I've heard you smiling tell
Of Carlos' love.
In that brave prince's courtship there did meet
All that we could obliging call, or sweet.
At every point he with advantage stood;
Fierce as a lion, if provoked abroad;
Else soft as angels, charming as a god.
With what resentments must he part with you!
Methinks I pity him——But oh! in vain:
He's both above my pity and my pain. [Aside.
That which I fear will discompose you too.
Enter Don Carlos and Marquis of Posa.
Something that in me moves unusual fears.
Away, Henrietta— [Offers to go.
Is Carlos' sight ungrateful to you grown?
If 'tis, speak: in obedience I'll retire.
As our forefathers were compelled to do,
When they petitions made at that great shrine,
Where none but the high priest might enter in?
Let me approach; I've nothing for your ear,
But what's so pure it might be offered there.
If you must speak, proceed: what would you say?
[Don Carlos kneels.