PROLOGUE

When first our author took this play in hand,He doubted much, and long was at a stand.He knew the fame and memory of kingsWere 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.

SCENE—The Court of Spain.

DON CARLOS,PRINCE OF SPAIN.

KingandQueen, DonCarlos,theMarquis ofPosa,Ruy-Gomez,theDuchess ofEboli,Henrietta,Garcia, Attendants,andGuardsdiscovered.

King. Happy the monarch, on whose brow no caresAdd 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 theQueen.Approach, bright mistress of my purest vows:Now show me him that more religion owesTo Heaven, or to its altars more devoutly bows.Don Car.So merchants, cast upon some savage coast,Are forced to see their dearest treasures lost.Curse! what's obedience? a false notion madeBy priests, who when they found old cheats decayed,By such new arts kept up declining trade.[Aside.A father! Oh!King.Why does my Carlos shroudHis 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.Don Car.A greater glory I can never knowThan what already I enjoy in you.The brightest ornaments of crowns and powersI only can admire, as they are yours.King.Heaven! how he stands unmoved! not the least showOf transport.Don Car.Not admire your happiness? I doAs 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 theQueen.Queen.How hard it is his passion to confine!I'm sure 'tis so, if I may judge by mine.[Aside.Alas! my lord, you're too obsequious now.[ToDonCarlos.Don Car.Oh! might I but enjoy this pleasure still,Here would I worship, and for ever kneel.Queen.'Fore Heaven, my lord! you know not what you do.King.Still there appears disturbance on his brow;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,

Don Car.So merchants, cast upon some savage coast,Are forced to see their dearest treasures lost.Curse! what's obedience? a false notion madeBy priests, who when they found old cheats decayed,By such new arts kept up declining trade.[Aside.A father! Oh!

King.Why does my Carlos shroudHis 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.

Don Car.A greater glory I can never knowThan what already I enjoy in you.The brightest ornaments of crowns and powersI only can admire, as they are yours.

King.Heaven! how he stands unmoved! not the least showOf transport.

Don Car.Not admire your happiness? I doAs 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 theQueen.

Queen.How hard it is his passion to confine!I'm sure 'tis so, if I may judge by mine.[Aside.Alas! my lord, you're too obsequious now.[ToDonCarlos.

Don Car.Oh! might I but enjoy this pleasure still,Here would I worship, and for ever kneel.

Queen.'Fore Heaven, my lord! you know not what you do.

King.Still there appears disturbance on his brow;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 theQueen.

Shall I the mighty debt of love defray?Hence to love's secret temple let's retire,There on his altars kindle the amorous fire,Then, phœnix-like, each in the flame expire.—Still he is fixed. [Looking onDonCarlos.] Gomez, observe the prince.—Yet smile on me, my charming excellence.

[To theQueen.

Virgins should only fears and blushes show;But you must lay aside that title now.The doctrine which I preach, by Heaven, is good:—Oh, the impetuous sallies of my blood!Queen.To what unwelcome joys I'm forced to yield?Now fate her utmost malice has fulfilled.Carlos, farewell; for since I must submit—King.Now, winged with rapture, let us fly, my sweet.My son, all troubles from thy breast resign,And let thy father's happiness be thine.

Virgins should only fears and blushes show;But you must lay aside that title now.The doctrine which I preach, by Heaven, is good:—Oh, the impetuous sallies of my blood!

Queen.To what unwelcome joys I'm forced to yield?Now fate her utmost malice has fulfilled.Carlos, farewell; for since I must submit—

King.Now, winged with rapture, let us fly, my sweet.My son, all troubles from thy breast resign,And let thy father's happiness be thine.

[ExeuntKingandQueen,Ruy-Gomez, Duchess ofEboli,Henrietta,Garcia,andAttendants.

Don Car.What king, what god would not his power forego,To enjoy so much divinity below!Didst thou behold her, Posa?M. of Posa.Sir, I did.Don Car.And is she not a sweet one? Such a bride!O Posa, once she was decreed for mine:Once I had hopes of bliss. Hadst thou but seenHow blest, how proud I was if I could getBut 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.

Don Car.What king, what god would not his power forego,To enjoy so much divinity below!Didst thou behold her, Posa?

M. of Posa.Sir, I did.

Don Car.And is she not a sweet one? Such a bride!O Posa, once she was decreed for mine:Once I had hopes of bliss. Hadst thou but seenHow blest, how proud I was if I could getBut 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-enterRuy-Gomez.

Ruy-Gom.Still he is here. My lord!Don Car.Your business now?Ruy-Gom.I've with concern beheld your clouded brow.Ah! though you've lost a beauty well might makeYour strictest honour and your duty shake,Let not a father's ills[11]misguide your mind,But be obedient, though he has proved unkind.Don Car.Hence, cynic, to dull slaves thy morals teach;I have no leisure now to hear thee preach:Still you'll usurp a power o'er my will.Ruy-Gom.Sir, you my services interpret ill:Nor need it be so soon forgot that IHave been your guardian from your infancy.When to my charge committed, I aloneInstructed 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,Don Car.Alas! thy pride wears a too thin disguise:Too well I know the falsehood of thy soul,Which to my father rendered me so foulThat 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 crownOut of my reach, to have it in your own.But I'll prevent your policy—Ruy-Gom.My lord,This accusation is unjust and hard.The king, your father, would not so upbraidMy age: is all my service thus repaid?But I will hence, and let my master hearHow generously you reward my care;Who, on my just complaint, I doubt not, willAt least redress the injuries I feel.[Exit.M. of Posa.Alas! my lord, you too severely urgeYour fate; his interest with the king is large.Besides, you know he has already seenThe transports of your passion for the queen.The use he may of that advantage makeYou ought at least to avoid, but for her sake.Don. Car.Ah! my dear friend, thou'st touched my tenderest part;I never yet learned the dissembling art.Go, call him back; tell him that I imploreHis 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.[ExitMarquis ofPosa.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—

Ruy-Gom.Still he is here. My lord!

Don Car.Your business now?

Ruy-Gom.I've with concern beheld your clouded brow.Ah! though you've lost a beauty well might makeYour strictest honour and your duty shake,Let not a father's ills[11]misguide your mind,But be obedient, though he has proved unkind.

Don Car.Hence, cynic, to dull slaves thy morals teach;I have no leisure now to hear thee preach:Still you'll usurp a power o'er my will.

Ruy-Gom.Sir, you my services interpret ill:Nor need it be so soon forgot that IHave been your guardian from your infancy.When to my charge committed, I aloneInstructed 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,

Don Car.Alas! thy pride wears a too thin disguise:Too well I know the falsehood of thy soul,Which to my father rendered me so foulThat 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 crownOut of my reach, to have it in your own.But I'll prevent your policy—

Ruy-Gom.My lord,This accusation is unjust and hard.The king, your father, would not so upbraidMy age: is all my service thus repaid?But I will hence, and let my master hearHow generously you reward my care;Who, on my just complaint, I doubt not, willAt least redress the injuries I feel.[Exit.

M. of Posa.Alas! my lord, you too severely urgeYour fate; his interest with the king is large.Besides, you know he has already seenThe transports of your passion for the queen.The use he may of that advantage makeYou ought at least to avoid, but for her sake.

Don. Car.Ah! my dear friend, thou'st touched my tenderest part;I never yet learned the dissembling art.Go, call him back; tell him that I imploreHis 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.[ExitMarquis ofPosa.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-enterRuy-Gomezand theMarquis ofPosa.

Sir, I fear I've done

[ToRuy-Gomez.

You wrong; but, if I have, you can forgive.Heaven! can I do this abject thing, and live?[Aside.Ruy-Gom.Ah, my good lord, it makes too large amends,When to his vassal thus a prince descends;Though it was something rigid and unkind,To upbraid your faithful servant and your friend.Don Car.Alas! no more; all jealousies shall cease;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.Ruy-Gom.Stay, sir, and for this mighty favour takeAll 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!

You wrong; but, if I have, you can forgive.Heaven! can I do this abject thing, and live?[Aside.

Ruy-Gom.Ah, my good lord, it makes too large amends,When to his vassal thus a prince descends;Though it was something rigid and unkind,To upbraid your faithful servant and your friend.

Don Car.Alas! no more; all jealousies shall cease;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.

Ruy-Gom.Stay, sir, and for this mighty favour takeAll 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!

[ExeuntDonCarlosandMarquis ofPosa.

Nor, spite of all his greatness, shall he need: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-enterDuchess ofEboli.

Welcome, my love!D. of Eboli.My lord, why stay you here,Losing the pleasures of this happy night?When all the court are melting in delight,You toil with the dull business of the state.Ruy-Gom.Only, my fair one, how to make thee great.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.D. of Eboli.My lord, I come not hither now to hearYour love, but offer something to your ear.If you have well observed, you must have seen,To-day, some strange disorders in the queen.Ruy-Gom.Yes, such as youthful brides do still express,Impatient longings for the happiness.Approaching joys will so disturb the soul,As needles always tremble near the pole.D. of Eboli.Come, come, my lord, seem not so blind; too wellI've seen the wrongs which you from Carlos feel;And know your judgment is too good to loseAdvantage, where you may so safely choose.Say now, if I inform you how you mayWith full revenge all your past wrongs repay—Ruy-Gom.Blest oracle! speak how it may be done:My will, my life, my hopes, are all thy own.D. of Eboli.Hence then, and with your strictest cunning tryWhat of the queen and prince you can descry;Watch every look, each quick and subtle glance;Then we'll from all produce such circumstanceAs 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?Ruy-Gom.No, but methinks I view from hence a king,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.D. of Eboli.In thy fond policy, blind fool, go on,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 beenNurtured with glorious hopes to be a queen;Made love my study, and with practised charmsPrepared myself to meet a monarch's arms;At last to be condemned to the embraceOf one whom nature made to her disgrace,An old, imperfect, feeble dotard, whoCan 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.

Welcome, my love!

D. of Eboli.My lord, why stay you here,Losing the pleasures of this happy night?When all the court are melting in delight,You toil with the dull business of the state.

Ruy-Gom.Only, my fair one, how to make thee great.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.

D. of Eboli.My lord, I come not hither now to hearYour love, but offer something to your ear.If you have well observed, you must have seen,To-day, some strange disorders in the queen.

Ruy-Gom.Yes, such as youthful brides do still express,Impatient longings for the happiness.Approaching joys will so disturb the soul,As needles always tremble near the pole.

D. of Eboli.Come, come, my lord, seem not so blind; too wellI've seen the wrongs which you from Carlos feel;And know your judgment is too good to loseAdvantage, where you may so safely choose.Say now, if I inform you how you mayWith full revenge all your past wrongs repay—

Ruy-Gom.Blest oracle! speak how it may be done:My will, my life, my hopes, are all thy own.

D. of Eboli.Hence then, and with your strictest cunning tryWhat of the queen and prince you can descry;Watch every look, each quick and subtle glance;Then we'll from all produce such circumstanceAs 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?

Ruy-Gom.No, but methinks I view from hence a king,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.

D. of Eboli.In thy fond policy, blind fool, go on,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 beenNurtured with glorious hopes to be a queen;Made love my study, and with practised charmsPrepared myself to meet a monarch's arms;At last to be condemned to the embraceOf one whom nature made to her disgrace,An old, imperfect, feeble dotard, whoCan 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.

[11]i.e.Faults.

EnterDonJohnof Austria.

Don John. Why should dull law rule nature, who first madeThat law by which herself is now betrayed?Ere man's corruptions made him wretched, heWas 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.

EnterDuchess ofEboli.

She comes; as the bright Cyprian goddess moves,When loose, and in her chariot drawn by doves,She rides to meet the warlike god she loves.D. of Eboli.Alas! my lord, you know not with what fearAnd hazard I am come to meet you here.Don John.Oh, banish it: lovers like us should fly,And, mounted by their wishes, soar on high,Where softest ecstasies and transports are,While fear alone disturbs the lower air.D. of Eboli.But who is safe when eyes are everywhere?Or, if we could with happiest secrecyEnjoy these sweets, oh, whither shall we flyTo escape that sight whence we can nothing hide?Don John.Alas! lay this religion now aside;I'll show thee one more pleasant, that which JoveSet forth to the old world, when from aboveHe came himself, and taught his mortals love.D. of Eboli.Will nothing then quench your unruly flame?My lord, you might consider who I am.Don John.I know you're her I love, what should I moreRegard?D. of Eboli.[Aside.] By Heaven, he's brave!—But can so poorA thought possess your breast, to think that IWill brand my name with lust and infamy?Don John.Those who are noblest born should higher prizeLove'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 glassBeholds his wished-for fortune by him pass,Yet still with greedy eyesPursues the vision as it glides away.D. of Eboli.Protect me, Heaven! I dare no longer stay;Your looks speak danger; I feel something tooThat bids me fly, yet will not let me go.[Half aside.Don John.Take vows and prayers if ever I prove false.See at your feet the humble Austria falls.[Kneels.D. of Eboli.Rise, rise. [DonJohnrises.] My lord, why would you thus deceive? [Sighs.Don John.How many ways to wound me you contrive!Speak, wouldst thou have an empire at thy feet?Say, wouldst thou rule the world? I'll conquer it.D. of Eboli.No; above empire far I could prize you,If you would be but—Don John.What?D. of Eboli.For ever true.Don John.That thou mayst ne'er have cause to fear those harms,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.

She comes; as the bright Cyprian goddess moves,When loose, and in her chariot drawn by doves,She rides to meet the warlike god she loves.

D. of Eboli.Alas! my lord, you know not with what fearAnd hazard I am come to meet you here.

Don John.Oh, banish it: lovers like us should fly,And, mounted by their wishes, soar on high,Where softest ecstasies and transports are,While fear alone disturbs the lower air.

D. of Eboli.But who is safe when eyes are everywhere?Or, if we could with happiest secrecyEnjoy these sweets, oh, whither shall we flyTo escape that sight whence we can nothing hide?

Don John.Alas! lay this religion now aside;I'll show thee one more pleasant, that which JoveSet forth to the old world, when from aboveHe came himself, and taught his mortals love.

D. of Eboli.Will nothing then quench your unruly flame?My lord, you might consider who I am.

Don John.I know you're her I love, what should I moreRegard?

D. of Eboli.[Aside.] By Heaven, he's brave!—But can so poorA thought possess your breast, to think that IWill brand my name with lust and infamy?

Don John.Those who are noblest born should higher prizeLove'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 glassBeholds his wished-for fortune by him pass,Yet still with greedy eyesPursues the vision as it glides away.

D. of Eboli.Protect me, Heaven! I dare no longer stay;Your looks speak danger; I feel something tooThat bids me fly, yet will not let me go.[Half aside.

Don John.Take vows and prayers if ever I prove false.See at your feet the humble Austria falls.[Kneels.

D. of Eboli.Rise, rise. [DonJohnrises.] My lord, why would you thus deceive? [Sighs.

Don John.How many ways to wound me you contrive!Speak, wouldst thou have an empire at thy feet?Say, wouldst thou rule the world? I'll conquer it.

D. of Eboli.No; above empire far I could prize you,If you would be but—

Don John.What?

D. of Eboli.For ever true.

Don John.That thou mayst ne'er have cause to fear those harms,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.

EnterGarcia.

Gar.Madam, your lord—D. of Eboli.Oh! fly, or I'm undone.[ExitGarcia.Don John.Must I without thy blessing then be gone?

Gar.Madam, your lord—

D. of Eboli.Oh! fly, or I'm undone.[ExitGarcia.

Don John.Must I without thy blessing then be gone?

[Kisses her hand.

D. of Eboli.Think you that this discretion merits one?

[Pulls it back.

Don John.I'm awed: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.D. of Eboli.O Heaven! what charms in youth and vigour are!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.

Don John.I'm awed: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.

D. of Eboli.O Heaven! what charms in youth and vigour are!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.

EnterRuy-Gomez.

Ruy-Gom.Thus unaccompanied I subtly rangeThe solitary paths of dark revenge:The fearful deer in herds to coverts run,While beasts of prey affect to roam alone.D. of Eboli.Ah! my dear lord, how do you spend your hours?You little think what my poor heart endures;Whilst, with your absence tortured, I in vainPant after joys I ne'er can hope to gain.Ruy-Gom.You cannot my unkindness sure upbraid;You should forgive those faults yourself have made.Remember you the task you gave?D. of Eboli.'Tis true;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.Ruy-Gom.How happy am I in a faithful wife!O thou most precious blessing of my life!D. of Eboli.Does then success attend upon your toil?I long to see you revel in the spoil.Ruy-Gom.What strictest diligence could do, I've done,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.

Ruy-Gom.Thus unaccompanied I subtly rangeThe solitary paths of dark revenge:The fearful deer in herds to coverts run,While beasts of prey affect to roam alone.

D. of Eboli.Ah! my dear lord, how do you spend your hours?You little think what my poor heart endures;Whilst, with your absence tortured, I in vainPant after joys I ne'er can hope to gain.

Ruy-Gom.You cannot my unkindness sure upbraid;You should forgive those faults yourself have made.Remember you the task you gave?

D. of Eboli.'Tis true;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.

Ruy-Gom.How happy am I in a faithful wife!O thou most precious blessing of my life!

D. of Eboli.Does then success attend upon your toil?I long to see you revel in the spoil.

Ruy-Gom.What strictest diligence could do, I've done,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 theKing,attended by theMarquis ofPosa.

See where he comes with fury in his eyes: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.King.What's all my glory, all my pomp? how poorIs 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.Ruy-Gom.What is't does so your royal thoughts confound?A king his power unbounded ought to have,And, ruling all, should not be passion's slave.King.Thou counsell'st well, but art no stranger sureTo 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?Ruy-Gom.I only did as by my duty tied,And never studied any thing beside.King.I do not blame thy duty or thy care:Quickly, what passed between them more, declare.How greedily my soul to ruin flies!As he who in a fever burning liesFirst 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—Ruy-Gom.I fear that you'll interpret wrong;Tis true, they gazed, but 'twas not very long.King.Lie still, my heart! Not long, was't that you said?Ruy-Gom.No longer than they in your presence stayed.King.No longer? Why, a soul in less time fliesTo Heaven; and they have changed theirs at their eyes.Hence, abject fears, begone! she's all divine!Speak, friends, can angels in perfection sin?Ruy-Gom.Angels, that shine above, do oft bestowTheir influence on poor mortals here below.King.But Carlos is my son, and always near;Seems to move with me in my glorious sphere.True, she may shower promiscuous blessings downOn 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 thinkThat those eyes should at least so humble beTo stoop to him, when they had vanquished me.M. of Posa.Sir, I am proud to think I know the prince,That he of virtue has too great a senseTo cherish but a thought beyond the boundOf strictest duty. He to me has ownedHow much was to his former passion due,Yet still confessed he above all prized you.Ruy-Gom.You better reconcile, sir, than advise: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.King.By this then you a power would o'er me gain,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.Ruy-Gom.Good Heaven forbid that I should ever dareTo question virtue in a queen so fair,Though she her eyes cast on your glorious son!Men oft see treasures, and yet covet none.King.Think not to blind me with dark ironies,The truth disguised in obscure contraries.No, I will trace his windings; all her darkAnd subtlest paths, each little action mark,If she prove false, as yet I fear, she dies.

See where he comes with fury in his eyes: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.

King.What's all my glory, all my pomp? how poorIs 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.

Ruy-Gom.What is't does so your royal thoughts confound?A king his power unbounded ought to have,And, ruling all, should not be passion's slave.

King.Thou counsell'st well, but art no stranger sureTo 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?

Ruy-Gom.I only did as by my duty tied,And never studied any thing beside.

King.I do not blame thy duty or thy care:Quickly, what passed between them more, declare.How greedily my soul to ruin flies!As he who in a fever burning liesFirst 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—

Ruy-Gom.I fear that you'll interpret wrong;Tis true, they gazed, but 'twas not very long.

King.Lie still, my heart! Not long, was't that you said?

Ruy-Gom.No longer than they in your presence stayed.

King.No longer? Why, a soul in less time fliesTo Heaven; and they have changed theirs at their eyes.Hence, abject fears, begone! she's all divine!Speak, friends, can angels in perfection sin?

Ruy-Gom.Angels, that shine above, do oft bestowTheir influence on poor mortals here below.

King.But Carlos is my son, and always near;Seems to move with me in my glorious sphere.True, she may shower promiscuous blessings downOn 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 thinkThat those eyes should at least so humble beTo stoop to him, when they had vanquished me.

M. of Posa.Sir, I am proud to think I know the prince,That he of virtue has too great a senseTo cherish but a thought beyond the boundOf strictest duty. He to me has ownedHow much was to his former passion due,Yet still confessed he above all prized you.

Ruy-Gom.You better reconcile, sir, than advise: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.

King.By this then you a power would o'er me gain,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.

Ruy-Gom.Good Heaven forbid that I should ever dareTo question virtue in a queen so fair,Though she her eyes cast on your glorious son!Men oft see treasures, and yet covet none.

King.Think not to blind me with dark ironies,The truth disguised in obscure contraries.No, I will trace his windings; all her darkAnd subtlest paths, each little action mark,If she prove false, as yet I fear, she dies.

EnterQueenattended, andHenrietta.

Ha! here! Oh, let me turn away my eyes,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.

[ExeuntKingandMarquis ofPosa.

Queen.How scornfully he is withdrawn!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.Hen.Alas! what can you from old age expect,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.Queen.'Twas interest and safety of the state,—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?Hen.Who is't canKnow your sad fate, and yet from grief refrain?With pleasure oft I've heard you smiling tellOf Carlos' love.Queen.And did it please you well?In that brave prince's courtship there did meetAll 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.Hen.One so accomplished, and who loved you too,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.Queen.What means this strange disorder?Hen.Yonder viewThat which I fear will discompose you too.

Hen.Alas! what can you from old age expect,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.

Queen.'Twas interest and safety of the state,—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?

Hen.Who is't canKnow your sad fate, and yet from grief refrain?With pleasure oft I've heard you smiling tellOf Carlos' love.

Queen.And did it please you well?In that brave prince's courtship there did meetAll 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.

Hen.One so accomplished, and who loved you too,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.

Queen.What means this strange disorder?

Hen.Yonder viewThat which I fear will discompose you too.

EnterDonCarlosandMarquis ofPosa.

Queen.Alas, the prince! There to my mind appearsSomething that in me moves unusual fears.Away, Henrietta—[Offers to go.Don Car.Why would you be gone?Is Carlos' sight ungrateful to you grown?If 'tis, speak: in obedience I'll retire.Queen.No, you may speak, but must advance no nigher.Don Car.Must I then at that awful distance sue,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.Queen.Too long 'tis dangerous for me here to stay:If you must speak, proceed: what would you say?

Queen.Alas, the prince! There to my mind appearsSomething that in me moves unusual fears.Away, Henrietta—[Offers to go.

Don Car.Why would you be gone?Is Carlos' sight ungrateful to you grown?If 'tis, speak: in obedience I'll retire.

Queen.No, you may speak, but must advance no nigher.

Don Car.Must I then at that awful distance sue,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.

Queen.Too long 'tis dangerous for me here to stay:If you must speak, proceed: what would you say?

[DonCarloskneels.

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