Don Carlos | Page 8

a

man,
Wrestle with them boldly. The prize is worthy
Of a young
warrior's high, heroic heart;
Worthy of him in whom the virtues flow

Of a long ancestry of mighty kings.
Courage! my noble prince!
Great Charles's grandson
Begins the contest with undaunted heart,

Where sons of meaner men would yield at once.
CARLOS.
Too late, too late! O God, it is too late!
QUEEN.
Too late to be a man! O Carlos, Carlos!
How nobly
shows our virtue when the heart
Breaks in its exercise! The hand of
Heaven
Has set you up on high,--far higher, prince,
Than millions
of your brethren. All she took
From others she bestowed with partial
hand
On thee, her favorite; and millions ask,
What was your merit,
thus before your birth
To be endowed so far above mankind?
Up,
then, and justify the ways of Heaven;
Deserve to take the lead of all
the world,
And make a sacrifice ne'er made before.
CARLOS.
I will, I will; I have a giant's strength
To win your favor;
but to lose you, none.
QUEEN.
Confess, my Carlos, I have harshly read thee;
It is but
spoken, and waywardness, and pride,
Attract you thus so madly to
your mother!
The heart you lavish on myself belongs
To the great
empire you one day shall rule.
Look that you sport not with your
sacred trust!
Love is your high vocation; until now
It hath been
wrongly bent upon your mother:
Oh, lead it back upon your future
realms,
And so, instead of the fell stings of conscience,
Enjoy the
bliss of being more than man.
Elizabeth has been your earliest love,

Your second must be Spain. How gladly, Carlos,
Will I give place
to this more worthy choice!
CARLOS (overpowered by emotion, throws himself at her feet). How
great thou art, my angel! Yes, I'll do
All, all thou canst desire. So let
it be.

[He rises.
Here in the sight of heaven I stand and swear--
I swear to
thee, eternal--no, great Heaven!--
Eternal silence only,--not oblivion!
QUEEN.
How can I ask from you what I myself
Am not disposed
to grant?
MARQUIS (hastening from the alley).
The king!
QUEEN.
Oh God!
MARQUIS.
Away, away! fly from these precincts, prince!
QUEEN.
His jealousy is dreadful--should he see you----
CARLOS.
I'll stay.
QUEEN.
And who will be the victim then?
CARLOS (seizing the MARQUIS by the arm).
Away, away! Come,
Roderigo, come!
[Goes and returns.
What may I hope to carry hence with me?
QUEEN.
Your mother's friendship.
CARLOS.
Friendship! Mother!
QUEEN.
And
These tears with it--they're from the Netherlands.

[She gives him some letters. Exit CARLOS with the MARQUIS. The
QUEEN looks restlessly round in search of her ladies, who are nowhere
to be seen. As she is about to retire up, the KING enters.
SCENE VI.
The KING, the QUEEN, DUKE ALVA, COUNT LERMA,
DOMINGO,
LADIES, GRANDEES, who remain at a little distance.
KING.
How, madam, alone; not even one of all
Your ladies in
attendance? Strange! Where are they?
QUEEN.
My gracious lord!
KING.
Why thus alone, I say?
[To his attendants.
I'll take a strict account
of this neglect.
'Tis not to be forgiven. Who has the charge
Of
waiting on your majesty to-day?
QUEEN.
Oh, be not angry! Good, my lord, 'tis I
Myself that am to
blame--at my request
The Princess Eboli went hence but now.
KING.
At your request!
QUEEN.
To call the nurse to me,
With the Infanta, whom I longed to see.
KING.
And was your retinue dismissed for that?
This only clears
the lady first in waiting.
Where was the second?
MONDECAR (who has returned and mixed with the other ladies,
steps forward).
Your majesty, I feel
I am to blame for this.

KING.
You are, and so
I give you ten years to reflect upon it,
At a most
tranquil distance from Madrid.
[The MARCHIONESS steps back weeping. General silence.
The
bystanders all look in confusion towards the QUEEN.
QUEEN.
What weep you for, dear marchioness?
[To the KING.
I f I
Have erred, my gracious liege, the crown I wear,
And which I never
sought, should save my blushes
Is there a law in this your kingdom,
sire,
To summon monarch's daughters to the bar?
Does force alone
restrain your Spanish ladies?
Or need they stronger safeguard than
their virtue?
Now pardon me, my liege; 'tis not my wont
To send
my ladies, who have served me still
With smiling cheerfulness, away
in tears.
Here, Mondecar.
[She takes off her girdle and presents it to the MARCHIONESS.
You have displeased the king,
Not me. Take this remembrance of my
favor,
And of this hour. I'd have you quit the kingdom.
You have
only erred in Spain. In my dear France,
All men are glad to wipe such
tears away.
And must I ever be reminded thus?
In my dear France it
had been otherwise.
[Leaning on the MARCHIONESS and covering her face.
KING.
Can a reproach, that in my love had birth,
Afflict you so? A
word so trouble you,
Which the most anxious tenderness did