Don Carlos (play)

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Don Carlos (play) Page 4

by Friedrich Schiller


  [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.

  If 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 prompt?

  [He turns towards the GEANDEES.

  Here stand the assembled vassals of my throne.

  Did ever sleep descend upon these eyes,

  Till at the close of the returning day

  I've pondered, how the hearts of all my subjects

  Were beating 'neath the furthest cope of heaven?

  And should I feel more anxious for my throne

  Than for the partner of my bosom? No!

  My sword and Alva can protect my people,

  My eye alone assures thy love.

  QUEEN.

  My liege,

  If that I have offended--

  KING.

  I am called

  The richest monarch in the Christian world;

  The sun in my dominions never sets.

  All this another hath possessed before,

  And many another will possess hereafter.

  That is mine own. All that the monarch hath

  Belongs to chance-Elizabeth to Philip.

  This is the point in which I feel I'm mortal.

  QUEEN.

  What fear you, sire?

  KING.

  Should these gray hairs not fear?

  But the same instant that my fear begins

  It dies away forever.

  [To the grandees.

  I run over

  The nobles of my court and miss the foremost.

  Where is my son, Don Carlos?

  [No one answers.

  He begins

  To give me cause of fear. He shuns my presence

  Since he came back from school at Alcala.

  His blood is hot. Why is his look so cold?

  His bearing all so stately and reserved?

  Be watchful, duke, I charge you.

  ALVA.

  So I am:

  Long as a heart against this corslet beats,

  So long may Philip slumber undisturbed;

  And as God's cherub guards the gates of heaven

  So doth Duke Alva guard your royal throne.

  LERMA.

  Dare I, in all humility, presume

  To oppose the judgment of earth's wisest king?

  Too deeply I revere his gracious sire

  To judge the son so harshly. I fear much

  From his hot blood, but nothing from his heart.

  KING.

  Lerma, your speech is fair to soothe the father,

  But Alva here will be the monarch's shield-

  No more of this.

  [Turning to his suite.

  Now speed we to Madrid,

  Our royal duties summon us. The plague

  Of heresy is rife among my people;

  Rebellion stalks within my Netherlands-

  The times are imminent. We must arrest

  These erring spirits by some dread example.

  The solemn oath which every Christian king

  Hath sworn to keep I will redeem to-morrow.

  'Twill be a day of doom unparalleled.

  Our court is bidden to the festival.

  [He leads off the QUEEN, the rest follow.

  SCENE VII.

  DON CARLOS (with letters in his hand), and MARQUIS POSA

  enter from opposite sides.

  CARLOS.

  I am resolved-Flanders shall yet be saved:

  So runs her suit, and that's enough for me!

  MARQUIS.

  There's not another moment to be lost:

  'Tis said Duke Alva in the cabinet

  Is named already as the governor.

  CARLOS.

  Betimes to-morrow will I see the king

  And ask this office for myself. It is

  The first request I ever made
to him,

  And he can scarce refuse. My presence here

  Has long been irksome to him. He will grasp

  This fair pretence my absence to secure.

  And shall I confess to thee, Roderigo?

  My hopes go further. Face to face with him,

  'Tis possible the pleading of a son

  May reinstate him in his father's favor.

  He ne'er hath heard the voice of nature speak;

  Then let me try for once, my Roderigo,

  What power she hath when breathing from my lips.

  MARQUIS.

  Now do I hear my Carlos' voice once more;

  Now are you all yourself again!

  SCENE VIII.

  The preceding. COUNT LERMA.

  COUNT.

  Your grace,

  His majesty has left Aranjuez;

  And I am bidden--

  CARLOS.

  Very well, my lord-

  I shall overtake the king--

  MARQUIS (affecting to take leave with ceremony).

  Your highness, then,

  Has nothing further to intrust to me?

  CARLOS.

  Nothing. A pleasant journey to Madrid!

  You may, hereafter, tell me more of Flanders.

  [To LERMA, who is waiting for him.

  Proceed, my lord! I'll follow thee anon.

  SCENE IX.

  DON CARLOS, MARQUIS POSA.

  CARLOS.

  I understood thy hint, and thank thee for it.

  A stranger's presence can alone excuse

  This forced and measured tone. Are we not brothers?

  In future, let this puppet-play of rank

  Be banished from our friendship. Think that we

  Had met at some gay masking festival,

  Thou in the habit of a slave, and I

  Robed, for a jest, in the imperial purple.

  Throughout the revel we respect the cheat,

  And play our parts with sportive earnestness,

  Tripping it gayly with the merry throng;

  But should thy Carlos beckon through his mask,

  Thou'dst press his hand in silence as he passed,

  And we should be as one.

  MARQUIS.

  The dream's divine!

  But are you sure that it will last forever?

  Is Carlos, then, so certain of himself

  As to despise the charms of boundless sway?

  A day will come-an all-important day-

  When this heroic mind-I warn you now-

  Will sink o'erwhelmed by too severe a test.

  Don Philip dies; and Carlos mounts the throne,

  The mightiest throne in Christendom. How vast

  The gulf that yawns betwixt mankind and him-

  A god to-day, who yesterday was man!

  Steeled to all human weakness-to the voice

  Of heavenly duty deaf. Humanity-

  To-day a word of import in his ear-

  Barters itself, and grovels 'mid the throng

  Of gaping parasites; his sympathy

  For human woe is turned to cold neglect,

  His virtue sunk in loose voluptuous joys.

  Peru supplies him riches for his folly,

  His court engenders devils for his vices.

  Lulled in this heaven the work of crafty slaves,

  He sleeps a charmed sleep; and while his dream

  Endures his godhead lasts. And woe to him

  Who'd break in pity this lethargic trance!

  What could Roderigo do? Friendship is true,

  And bold as true. But her bright flashing beams

  Were much too fierce for sickly majesty:

  You would not brook a subject's stern appeal,

  Nor I a monarch's pride!

  CARLOS.

  Tearful and true,

  Thy portraiture of monarchs. Yes-thou'rt right,

  But 'tis their lusts that thus corrupt their hearts,

  And hurry them to vice. I still am pure.

  A youth scarce numbering three-and-twenty years.

  What thousands waste in riotous delights,

  Without remorse-the mind's more precious part-

  The bloom and strength of manhood-I have kept,

  Hoarding their treasures for the future king.

  What could unseat my Posa from my heart,

  If woman fail to do it?

  MARQUIS.

  I, myself!

  Say, could I love you, Carlos, warm as now,

  If I must fear you?

  CARLOS.

  That will never be.

  What need hast thou of me? What cause hast thou

  To stoop thy knee, a suppliant at the throne?

  Does gold allure thee? Thou'rt a richer subject

  Than I shall be a king! Dost covet honors?

  E'en in thy youth, fame's brimming chalice stood

  Full in thy grasp-thou flung'st the toy away.

  Which of us, then, must be the other's debtor,

  And which the creditor? Thou standest mute.

  Dost tremble for the trial? Art thou, then,

  Uncertain of thyself?

  MARQUIS.

  Carlos, I yield!

  Here is my band.

  CARLOS.

  Is it mine own?

  MARQUIS.

  Forever-

  In the most pregnant meaning of the word!

  CARLOS.

  And wilt thou prove hereafter to the king

  As true and warm as to the prince to-day?

  MARQUIS.

  I swear!

  CARLOS.

  And when round my unguarded heart

  The serpent flattery winds its subtle coil,

  Should e'er these eyes of mine forget the tears

  They once were wont to shed; or should these ears

  Be closed to mercy's plea,-say, wilt thou, then,

  The fearless guardian of my virtue, throw

  Thine iron grasp upon me, and call up

  My genius by its mighty name?

  MARQUIS.

  I will.

  CARLOS.

  And now one other favor let me beg.

  Do call me thou! Long have I envied this

  Dear privilege of friendship to thine equals.

  The brother's thou beguiles my ear, my heart,

  With sweet suggestions of equality.

  Nay, no reply:-I guess what thou wouldst say-

  To thee this seems a trifle-but to me,

  A monarch's son, 'tis much. Say, wilt thou be

  A brother to me?

  MARQUIS.

  Yes; thy brother, yes!

  CARLOS.

  Now to the king-my fears are at an end.

  Thus, arm-in-arm with thee, I dare defy

  The universal world into the lists.

  [Exeunt.

  ACT II.

  SCENE I.

  The royal palace at Madrid.

  KING PHILIP under a canopy; DUKE ALVA at some distance,

  with his head covered; CARLOS.

  CARLOS.

  The kingdom takes precedence-willingly

  Doth Carlos to the minister give place-

  He speaks for Spain; I am but of the household.

  [Bows and steps backward.

  KING.

  The duke remains-the Infanta may proceed.

  CARLOS (turning to ALVA).

  Then must I put it to your honor, sir,

  To yield my father for a while to me.

  A son, you know, may to a father's ear

  Unbosom much, in fulness of his heart,

  That not befits a stranger's ear. The king

  Shall not be taken from you, sir-I seek

  The father only for one little hour.

  KING.

  Here stands his friend.

  CARLOS.

  And have I e'er deserved

  To think the duke should be a friend of mine?

  KING.

  Or tried to make him one? I scarce ca
n love

  Those sons who choose more wisely than their fathers.

  CARLOS.

  And can Duke Alva's knightly spirit brook

  To look on such a scene? Now, as I live,

  I would not play the busy meddler's part,

  Who thrusts himself, unasked, 'twixt sire and son,

  And there intrudes without a blush, condemned

  By his own conscious insignificance,

  No, not, by heaven, to win a diadem!

  KING (rising, with an angry look at the Prince).

  Retire, my lord!

  [ALVA goes to the principal door, through which CARLOS

  had entered, the KING points to the other.

  No, to the cabinet,

  Until I call you.

  SCENE II.

 

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