PRINCESS, DOMINGO.DOMINGO.At your command, princess.PRINCESS.We are perhapsNot 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 willAdmit him to an audience after me.PRINCESS.Duke Alva! How? What can he want with me?You can, perhaps, inform me?DOMINGO.I?—and thatBefore I learn to what important chanceI owe the favor, long denied, to standBefore the Princess Eboli once more?[Pauses awaiting her answer.Has any circumstance occurred at lastTo favor the king's wishes? Have my hopesBeen not in vain, that more deliberate thoughtWould reconcile you to an offer whichCaprice 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 kingThat 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 trembleWhat have I done to make e'en you grow pale?DOMINGO.Nay, lady, this surprise—so sudden—ICan scarcely comprehend it.PRINCESS.Reverend sir!You shall not comprehend it. Not for allThe world would I you comprehended it.Enough for you it is so—spare yourselfThe trouble to investigate in thought,Whose eloquence hath wrought this wondrous change.But for your comfort let me add, you haveNo hand in this misdeed,—nor has the church.Although you've proved that cases might ariseWherein 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 notMistake me in this business. What I have beenThat am I still. 'Tis but the course of thingsHas changed. When I in anger spurned his suit,I deemed him truly happy in possessingEarth's fairest queen. I thought his faithful wifeDeserved 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 deceivedThe king, all Spain, and me. She loves, I knowShe 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 maskOf pure and superhuman self-denialI'll tear from her deceitful brow, that allMay 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?
The PRINCESS, DUKE ALVA, DOMINGO.DOMINGO (leading the DUKE in).Our tidings, good my lord,Come somewhat late. The Princess EboliReveals to us a secret we had meantOurselves to impart to her.ALVA.My visit, then,Will not so much surprise her, but I neverTrust my own eyes in these discoveries.They need a woman's more discerning glance.PRINCESS.Discoveries! How mean you?DOMINGO.Would we knewWhat place and fitter season you——PRINCESS.Just So!To-morrow noon I will expect you both.Reasons I have why this clandestine guiltShould 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 heAfford such ready credence as to yours,Friend and companion ever of his spouse?DOMINGO.As yours, who more than any one at willCan 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 youTo 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 hourThe order may arrive for my departure.
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DOMINGO (after a short pause, turns to the PRINCESS).Cannot some letters be discovered? Truly,An intercepted letter from the princeWould 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 observedWhere she is wont to keep her casket key?PRINCESS (in thought).Yes, that might lead to something; yes, I thinkThe 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 whetherThe 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 scornThe universal court. I have my proofs.ALVA.Stay! It occurs to me, as I was leavingThe queen's apartments, I beheld the princeIn 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 seemsSuspicious.[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 againBefore I see the king; and by that timeWe 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 fulfilHis fond desires, what shall I say of that?PRINCESS.In a few days I will feign sickness, andShall 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.
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 soThus we'll await the lightning that will scathe us![Exeunt.
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 hourSince he went hence.CARLOS.But he will sure return.Has he not left some message?PRIOR.Yes; he promisedTo come again at noon.CARLOS (going to a window, and looking round the country).Your convent liesFar from the public road. Yonder are seenThe turrets of Madrid—just so—and thereThe Mansanares flows. The scenery isExactly to my wish, and all aroundIs calm and still as secrecy itself.PRIOR.Or as the entrance to another world.CARLOS.Most worthy sir, to your fidelityAnd honor, have I now intrusted allI 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 safeFrom traitors and surprise? You recollectWhat you have sworn.PRIOR.Good sir, rely on us.A king's suspicion cannot pierce the grave,And curious ears haunts only those resortsWhere wealth and passion dwell—but from these wallsThe world's forever banished.CARLOS.You may think,Perhaps, beneath this seeming fear and cautionThere lies a guilty conscience?PRIOR.I think nothing.CARLOS.If you imagine this, most holy father,You err—indeed you err. My secret shunsThe sight of man—but not the eye of God.PRIOR.Such things concern us little. This retreatTo guilt, and innocence alike, is open,And whether thy designs be good or ill,Thy purpose criminal or virtuous,—thatWe 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 longShut from my thoughts—in preparation forMy last long journey. Why recall them to meFor 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.
DON CARLOS; the MARQUIS POSA enters.CARLOS.At length once more,—at length——MARQUIS.Oh, what a trialFor the impatience of a friend! The sunHas risen twice—twice set—since Carlos' fateHas been resolved, and am I only nowTo 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 saidYou had a private audience, and the king——CARLOS.Remained inflexible, and we are nowDivided more than ever.MARQUIS.Do you goTo Flanders?CARLOS.No!MARQUIS.Alas! my blighted hopes!CARLOS.Of this hereafter. Oh, Roderigo! sinceWe 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 thisImportant 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 lovedAwaited me. I straight obeyed the summons.MARQUIS.Fool! madman! you obeyed it——CARLOS.Not that IThe writing knew; but there was only oneSuch woman, who could think herself adoredBy Carlos. With delight intoxicateI 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 delusionAnd deemed herself the idol of my soul.Moved by the silent anguish of my breast,With thoughtless generosity, her heartNobly determined to return my love;Deeming respectful fear had caused my silence,She dared to speak, and all her lovely soulLaid bare before me.MARQUIS.And with calm composure,You tell this tale! The Princess EboliSaw through your heart; and doubtless she has piercedThe 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 soFrom love's mere selfishness. But much I fearSuch virtue—well I know it: know how littleIt hath the power to soar to that ideal,Which, first conceived in sweet and stately grace,From the pure soul's maternal soil, puts forthSpontaneous shoots, nor asks the gardener's aidTo 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 virtueWon from the heat of youth by art and cunning,In conflicts manifold—all noted downWith scrupulous reckoning to that heaven's account,Which is its aim, and will requite its pains.Ask your own heart! Can she forgive the queenThat 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 muchI may remark. To me she still appearsTo 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—unschooledIn all the trained restraints of conduct, farRemoved from boldness and timidity,With firm, heroic step, she walks alongThe 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 traceThe features of his Eboli? The princessWas 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 CarlosOf 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 beforeHer glory would I bend me prostrate down,In reverence deep as thine, if she were notThe mistress of thy secret.CARLOS.See how vain,How idle are thy fears! What proofs has sheThat will not stamp her maiden brow with shame?Say, will she purchase with her own dishonorThe wretched satisfaction of revenge?MARQUIS.Ay! to recall a blush, full many a oneHas doomed herself to infamy.CARLOS (with increased vehemence).Nay, thatIs far too harsh—and cruel! She is proudAnd 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 contriveThat I may speak with her.MARQUIS.And wilt thou showThis 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 looksUnknown to me before. Thou turn'st thine eyesAway from me. Then it is true, and have IJudged 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. WhatHave desecrations of the royal bedTo do with thee—thy love? Dost thou fear Philip?How are a husband's violated dutiesAllied 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 feelFrom what it is that I must wean myself.Once it was otherwise! Yes, once thy soulWas bounteous, rich, and warm, and there was roomFor a whole world in thy expanded heart.Those feelings are extinct—all swallowed upIn one poor, petty, selfish passion. NowThy heart is withered, dead! No tears last thouFor the unhappy fate of wretched Flanders—No, not another tear. Oh, Carlos! seeHow poor, how beggarly, thou hast become,Since all thy love has centered in thyself!CARLOS (flings himself into a chair. After a pause, withscarcely suppressed tears).Too well I know thou lovest me no more!MARQUIS.Not so, my Carlos. Well I understandThis fiery passion: 'tis the misdirectionOf feelings pure and noble in themselves.The queen belonged to thee: the king, thy father,Despoiled thee of her—yet till now thou hastBeen modestly distrustful of thy claims.Philip, perhaps, was worthy of her! ThouScarce dared to breathe his sentence in a whisper—This letter has resolved thy doubts, and provedThou art the worthier man. With haughty joyThou saw'st before thee rise the doom that waitsOn 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 prideWas touched with satisfaction, and thy heartAllowed itself to hope: I plainly sawThis time, at least, thou didst not know thyself.CARLOS (with emotion).Thou'rt wrong, Roderigo; for my thoughts were farLess 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 findThat 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-morrowThy wish may be achieved. Till then, my Carlos,Forget not this—"That a design conceivedOf lofty reason, which involves the fate,The sufferings of mankind, though it be baffledTen thousand times, should never be abandoned."Dost hear? Remember Flanders.CARLOS.Yes! all, allThat 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 goStraight to Madrid?MARQUIS.Yes, straight.CARLOS.Hold! one word more.How nearly it escaped me! Yet 'twas newsOf deep importance. "Every letter nowSent to Brabant is opened by the king!"So be upon thy guard. The royal postHas 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.
The king's bedchamber. On the toilet two burning lights. In thebackground several pages asleep resting on their knees. The KING,in half undress, stands before the table, with one arm bent overthe chair, in a reflecting posture. Before him is a medallion andpapers.KING.Of a warm fancy she has ever been!Who can deny it? I could never love her,Yet has she never seemed to miss my love.And so 'tis plain—she's false![Makes a movement which brings him to himself.He looks round with surprise.Where have I been?Is no one watching here, then, save the king?The light's burnt out, and yet it is not day.I must forego my slumbers for to-night.Take it, kind nature, for enjoyed! No timeHave monarchs to retrieve the nights they lose.I'm now awake, and day it shall be.[He puts out the candles, and draws aside the window-curtain.He observes the sleeping pages—remains for some time standingbefore them—then rings a bell.AllAsleep within the antechamber, too?
The KING, COUNT LERMA.LERMA (surprised at seeing the KING).Does not your majesty feel well?KING.The left Pavilion of the palace was in flames:Did you not hear the alarum?LERMA.No, my liege.KING.No! What? And did I only dream it then?'Twas surely real! Does not the queen sleep there?LERMA.She does, your majesty.KING.This dream affrights me!In future let the guards be doubled thereAs soon as it grows dark. Dost hear? And yetLet it be done in secret. I would not——Why do you gaze on me?LERMA.Your bloodshot eyes,I mark, that beg repose. Dare I remindMy liege of an inestimable life,And of your subjects, who with pale dismayWould in such features read of restless nights?But two brief hours of morning sleep would——KING (with troubled look).Shall I find sleep within the Escurial?Let the king sleep, and he may lose his crown,The husband, his wife's heart. But no! not so;This is but slander. Was it not a womanWhispered the crime to me? Woman, thy nameIs calumny? The deed I'll hold unproved,Until a man confirms the fatal truth![To the pages, who in the meanwhile have awaked.Summon Duke Alva![Pages go.Count, come nearer to me.[Fixes a searching look on the COUNT.Is all this true? Oh for omniscience now,Though but so long as a man's pulse might beat.Is it true? Upon your oath! Am I deceived?LERMA.My great, my best of kings!KING (drawing back).King! naught but king!And king again! No better answer thanMere hollow echo! When I strike this rockFor water, to assuage my burning thirst,It gives me molten gold.LERMA.What true, my liege?KING.Oh, nothing, nothing! Leave me! Get thee gone![The COUNT going, the KING calls him back again.Say, are you married? and are you a father?LERMA.I am, your majesty.KING.What! married—yetYou dare to watch a night here with your king!Your hair is gray, and yet you do not blushTo think your wife is honest. Get thee home;You'll find her locked, this moment, in your son'sIncestuous embrace. Believe your king.Now go; you stand amazed; you stare at meWith searching eye, because of my gray hairs.Unhappy man, reflect. Queens never taintTheir virtue thus: doubt it, and you shall die!LERMA (with warmth).Who dare do so? In all my monarch's realmsWho has the daring hardihood to breatheSuspicion on her angel purity?To slander thus the best of queens——KING.The best!The best, from you, too! She has ardent friends,I find, around. It must have cost her much—More than methinks she could afford to give.You are dismissed; now send the duke to me.LERMA.I hear him in the antechamber.[Going.KING (with a milder tone).Count,What you observed is very true. My headBurns with the fever of this sleepless night!What I have uttered in this waking dream,Mark you, forget! I am your gracious king![Presents his hand to kiss. Exit LERMA, openingthe door at the same time to DUKE ALVA.
The KING and DUKE ALVA.ALVA (approaching the KING with an air of doubt).This unexpected order, at so strangeAn hour![Starts on looking closer at the KING.And then those looks!KING (has seated himself, and taken hold of the medallion on the table.Looks at the DUKE for some time in silence).Is it trueI have no faithful servant!ALVA.How?KING.A blowAimed at my life in its most vital part!Full well 'twas known, yet no one warned me of it.ALVA (with a look of astonishment).A blow aimed at your majesty! and yetEscape your Alva's eye?KING (showing him letters).Know you this writing?ALVA.It is the prince's hand.KING (a pause—watches the DUKE closely).Do you suspectThen nothing? Often have you cautioned meGainst his ambition. Was there nothing moreThan his ambition should have made me tremble?ALVA.Ambition is a word of largest import,And much it may comprise.KING.And had you naughtOf special purport to disclose?ALVA (after a pause, mysteriously).Your majestyHath given the kingdom's welfare to my charge:On this my inmost, secret thoughts are bent,And my best vigilance. Beyond this chargeWhat I may think, suspect, or know belongsTo me alone. These are the sacred treasuresWhich not the vassal only, but the slave,The very slave, may from a king withhold.Not all that to my mind seems plain is yetMature enough to meet the monarch's ear.Would he be answered—then must I imploreHe will not question as a king.KING (handing the letters).Read these.ALVA (reads them, and turns to the KING with a look of terror).Who was the madman placed these fatal papersIn my king's hands?KING.You know, then, who is meant?No name you see is mentioned in the paper.ALVA (stepping back confused).I was too hasty!KING.But you know!ALVA (after some consideration).'Tis spoken!The king commands,—I dare not now conceal.I'll not deny it—I do know the person.KING (starting up in violent emotion).God of revenge! inspire me to inventSome new, unheard-of torture! Is their crimeSo clear, so plain, so public to the world,That without e'en the trouble of inquiryThe veriest hint suffices to reveal it?This is too much! I did not dream of this!I am the last of all, then, to discern it—The last in all my realm?ALVA (throwing himself at the KING'S feet).Yes, I confessMy guilt, most gracious monarch. I'm ashamedA coward prudence should have tied my tongueWhen truth, and justice, and my sovereign's honorUrged me to speak. But since all else are silentAnd since the magic spell of beauty bindsAll other tongues, I dare to give it voice;Though well I know a son's warm protestations,A wife's seductive charms and winning tears——KING (suddenly with warmth).Rise, Alva! thou hast now my royal promise;Rise, and speak fearlessly!ALVA (rising).Your majesty,Perchance, may bear in your remembrance stillWhat happened in the garden at Aranjuez.You found the queen deserted by her ladies,With looks confused—alone, within a bower,—KING.Proceed. What further have I yet to hear?ALVA.The Marchioness of Mondecar was banishedBecause she boldly sacrificed herselfTo save the queen! It has been since discoveredShe did no more than she had been commanded.Prince Carlos had been there.KING (starting).The prince! What more?ALVA.Upon the ground the footsteps of a manWere traced, till finally they disappearedClose to a grotto, leftward of the bower,Where lay a handkerchief the prince had dropped.This wakened our suspicions. But besides,The gardener met the prince upon the spot,—Just at the time, as near as we can guess,Your majesty appeared within the walk.KING (recovering from gloomy thought).And yet she wept when I but seemed to doubt!She made me blush before the assembled court,Blush to my very self! By heaven! I stoodIn presence of her virtue, like a culprit.[A long and deep silence. He sits down and hides his face.Yes, Alva, you are right! All this may leadTo something dreadful—leave me for a moment——ALVA.But, gracious sire, all this is not enough——KING (snatching up the papers).Nor this, nor this?—nor all the harmonyOf these most damning proofs? 'Tis clear as day—I knew it long ago—their heinous guiltBegan when first I took her from your hands,Here in Madrid. I think I see her now,With look of horror, pale as midnight ghost,Fixing her eyes upon my hoary hair!'Twas then the treacherous game began!ALVA.The prince,In welcoming a mother—lost his bride!Long had they nursed a mutual passion, longEach other's ardent feelings understood,Which her new state forbade her to indulge.The fear which still attends love's first avowalWas long subdued. Seduction, bolder grown,Spoke in those forms of easy confidenceWhich recollections of the past allowed.Allied by harmony of souls and years,And now by similar restraints provoked,They readily obeyed their wild desires.Reasons of state opposed their early union—But can it, sire, be thought she ever gaveTo the state council such authority?That she subdued the passion of her soulTo scrutinize with more attentive eyeThe election of the cabinet. Her heartWas bent on love, and won a diadem.KING (offended, and with bitterness).You are a nice observer, duke, and IAdmire your eloquence. I thank you truly.[Rising coldly and haughtily.But you are right. The queen has deeply erredIn keeping from me letters of such import,And in concealing the intrusive visitThe prince paid in the garden:—from a falseMistaken honor she has deeply erredAnd I shall question further.[Ringing the bell.Who waits nowWithin the antechamber? You, Duke Alva,I need no longer. Go.ALVA.And has my zealA second time displeased your majesty?KING (to a page who enters).Summon Domingo. Duke, I pardon youFor having made me tremble for a moment,With secret apprehension, lest yourselfMight fall a victim to a foul misdeed.[Exit ALVA.
The KING, DOMINGO.KING walks up and down the room to collect his thoughts.DOMINGO (after contemplating the KING for some time with a respectfulsilence).How joyfully surprised I am to findYour majesty so tranquil and collected.KING.Surprised!DOMINGO.And heaven be thanked my fears were groundless!Now may I hope the best.KING.Your fears! What feared you?DOMINGO.I dare not hide it from your majestyThat I had learned a secret——KING (gloomily).And have IExpressed a wish to share your secret with you?Who ventures to anticipate me thus?Too forward, by mine honor!DOMINGO.Gracious monarch!The place, the occasion, seal of secrecy'Neath which I learned it—free me from this charge.It was intrusted to me at the seatOf penitence—intrusted as a crimeThat deeply weighed upon the tender soulOf the fair sinner who confessed her guilt,And sought the pardon of offended heaven.Too late the princess weeps a foul misdeedThat may involve the queen herself in ruin.KING.Indeed! Kind soul! You have correctly guessedThe occasion of your summons. You must guide meThrough this dark labyrinth wherein blind zealHas tangled me. From you I hope for truth.Be candid with me; what must I believe,And what determine? From your sacred officeI look for strictest truth.DOMINGO.And if, my liege,The mildness ever incident to thisMy holy calling, did not such restraintImpose upon me, still I would entreatYour majesty, for your own peace of mind,To urge no further this discovery,And cease forever to pursue a secretWhich never can be happily explained.All that is yet discovered may be pardoned.Let the king say the word—and then the queenHas never sinned. The monarch's will bestowsVirtue and fortune, both with equal ease.And the king's undisturbed tranquillityIs, in itself, sufficient to destroyThe rumors set on foot by calumny.KING.What! Rumors! and of me! among my subjects!DOMINGO.All falsehood, sire! Naught but the vilest falsehood!I'll swear 'tis false! Yet what's believed by all,Groundless and unconfirmed although it be,Works its effect, as sure as truth itself.KING.Not in this case, by heaven!DOMINGO.A virtuous nameIs, after all, my liege, the only prizeWhich queens and peasants' wives contest together.KING.For which I surely have no need to tremble.[He looks doubtingly at DOMINGO. After a pause.Priest, thou hast something fearful to impart.Delay it not. I read it plainly stampedIn thy ill-boding looks. Then out with it,Whate'er it be. Let me no longer trembleUpon the rack. What do the people say?DOMINGO.The people, sire, are liable to err,Nay err assuredly. What people thinkShould not alarm the king. Yet that they shouldPresume so far as to indulge such thoughts——KING.Why must I beg this poisonous draught so long?DOMINGO.The people often muse upon that monthWhich brought your majesty so near the grave,From that time, thirty weeks had scarce elapsed,Before the queen's delivery was announced.[The KING rises and rings the bell. DUKE ALVAenters. DOMINGO alarmed.I am amazed, your majesty!KING (going towards ALVA).Toledo!You are a man—defend me from this priest!DOMINGO (he and DUKE ALVA exchange embarrassed looks. After a pause).Could we have but foreseen that this occurrenceWould be avenged upon its mere relater.KING.Said you a bastard? I had scarce, you say,Escaped the pangs of death when first she feltShe should, in nature's time, become a mother.Explain how this occurred! 'Twas then, if IRemember right, that you, in every church,Ordered devotions to St. Dominick,For the especial wonder he vouchsafed.On one side or the other, then, you lie!What would you have me credit? Oh, I seeFull plainly through you now! If this dark plotHad then been ripe your saint had lost his fame.ALVA.This plot?KING.How can you with a harmonySo unexampled in your very thoughtsConcur, and not have first conspired together?Would you persuade me thus? Think you that IPerceived not with what eagerness you pouncedUpon your prey? With what delight you fedUpon my pain,—my agony of grief?Full well I marked the ardent, burning zealWith which the duke forestalled the mark of graceI destined for my son. And how this priestPresumed to fortify his petty spleenWith my wrath's giant arm! I am, forsooth,A bow which each of you may bend at pleasureBut I have yet a will. And if I needsMust doubt—perhaps I may begin with you.ALVA.Reward like this our truth did ne'er expect.KING.Your truth! Truth warns of apprehended danger.'Tis malice that speaks only of the past.What can I gain by your officiousness?Should your suspicion ripen to full truth,What follows but the pangs of separation,The melancholy triumphs of revenge?But no: you only fear—you feed me withConjectures vague. To hell's profound abyssYou lead me on, then flee yourself away.DOMINGO.What other proofs than these are possible,When our own eyes can scarcely trust themselves?KING (after a long pause, turning earnestly and solemnlytowards DOMINGO).The grandees of the realm shall be convened,And I will sit in judgment. Then step forthIn front of all, if you have courage for it,And charge her as a strumpet. She shall die—Die without mercy—and the prince, too, with her!But mark me well: if she but clear herselfThat doom shall fall on you. Now, dare you showHonor to truth by such a sacrifice?Determine. No, you dare not. You are silent.Such is the zeal of liars!ALVA (who has stood at a distance, answers coldly and calmly).I will do it.KING (turns round with astonishment and looks at the DUKE fora long time without moving).That's boldly said! But thou hast risked thy lifeIn stubborn conflicts for far less a prize.Has risked it with a gamester's recklessness—For honor's empty bubble. What is lifeTo thee? I'll not expose the royal bloodTo such a madman's power, whose highest hopeMust be to yield his wretched being upWith some renown. I spurn your offer. Go;And wait my orders in the audience chamber.[Exeunt.