Don Carlos (play)

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Don Carlos (play) Page 12

by Friedrich Schiller


  SCENE VI.

  The Audience Chamber.

  DON CARLOS in conversation with the PRINCE of PARMA. DUKES

  ALVA, FERIA, and MEDINA SIDONIA, COUNT LERMA, and other

  GRANDEES, with papers in their hands, awaiting the KING.

  MEDINA SIDONIA (seems to be shunned by all the GRANDEES, turns

  towards DUKE ALVA, who, alone and absorbed in himself, walks

  up and down).

  Duke, you have had an audience of the king?

  How did you find him minded?

  ALVA.

  Somewhat ill

  For you, and for the news you bring.

  MEDINA SIDONIA.

  My heart

  Was lighter 'mid the roar of English cannon

  Than here on Spanish ground.

  [CARLOS, who had regarded him with silent sympathy,

  now approaches him and presses his hand.

  My warmest thanks,

  Prince, for this generous tear. You may perceive

  How all avoid me. Now my fate is sealed.

  CARLOS.

  Still hope the best both from my father's favor,

  And your own innocence.

  MEDINA SIDONIA.

  Prince, I have lost

  A fleet more mighty than e'er ploughed the waves.

  And what is such a head as mine to set

  'Gainst seventy sunken galleons? And therewith

  Five hopeful sons! Alas! that breaks my heart.

  SCENE VII.

  The KING enters from his chamber, attired. The former

  all uncover and make room on both sides, while they form

  a semicircle round him. Silence.

  KING (rapidly surveying the whole circle).

  Be covered, all.

  [DON CARLOS and the PRINCE of PARMA approach first

  and kiss the KING's hand: he turns with friendly mien

  to the latter, taking no notice of his son.

  Your mother, nephew, fain

  Would be informed what favor you have won

  Here in Madrid.

  PARMA.

  That question let her ask

  When I have fought my maiden battle, sire.

  KING.

  Be satisfied; your turn will come at last,

  When these old props decay.

  [To the DUKE OF FERIA.

  What brings you here?

  FERIA (kneeling to the KING).

  The master, sire, of Calatrava's order

  This morning died. I here return his cross.

  KING (takes the order and looks round the whole circle).

  And who is worthiest after him to wear it?

  [He beckons to DUKE ALVA, who approaches and bends

  on one knee. The KING hangs the order on his neck.

  You are my ablest general! Ne'er aspire

  To more, and, duke, my favors shall not fail you.

  [He perceives the DUKE of MEDINA SIDONIA.

  My admiral!

  MEDINA SIDONIA.

  And here you see, great king,

  All that remains of the Armada's might,

  And of the flower of Spain.

  KING (after a pause).

  God rules above us!

  I sent you to contend with men, and not

  With rocks and storms. You're welcome to Madrid.

  [Extending his hand to him to kiss.

  I thank you for preserving in yourself

  A faithful servant to me. For as such

  I value him, my lords; and 'tis my will

  That you should honor him.

  [He motions him to rise and cover himself, then turns

  to the others.

  What more remains?

  [To DON CARLOS and the PRINCE OF PARMA.

  Princes, I thank you.

  [They retire; the other GRANDEES approach, and kneeling,

  hand their papers to the KING. He looks over them rapidly,

  and hands them to DUKE ALVA.

  Duke, let these be laid

  Before me in the council. Who waits further?

  [No one answers.

  How comes it that amidst my train of nobles

  The Marquis Posa ne'er appears? I know

  This Marquis Posa served me with distinction.

  Does he still live? Why is he not among you?

  LERMA.

  The chevalier is just returned from travel,

  Completed through all Europe. He is now

  Here in Madrid, and waits a public day

  To cast himself before his sovereign's feet.

  ALVA.

  The Marquis Posa? Right, he is the same

  Bold Knight of Malta, sire, of whom renown

  Proclaims this gallant deed. Upon a summons

  Of the Grand Master, all the valiant knights

  Assembled in their island, at that time

  Besieged by Soliman. This noble youth,

  Scarce numbering eighteen summers, straightway fled

  From Alcala, where he pursued his studies,

  And suddenly arrived at La Valette.

  "This Cross," he said, "was bought for me; and now

  To prove I'm worthy of it." He was one

  Of forty knights who held St. Elmo's Castle,

  At midday, 'gainst Piali, Ulucciali,

  And Mustapha, and Hassem; the assault

  Being thrice repeated. When the castle fell,

  And all the valiant knights were killed around him,

  He plunged into the ocean, and alone

  Reached La Valette in safety. Two months after

  The foe deserts the island, and the knight

  Returned to end his interrupted studies.

  FERIA.

  It was the Marquis Posa, too, who crushed

  The dread conspiracy in Catalonia;

  And by his marked activity preserved

  That powerful province to the Spanish crown.

  KING.

  I am amazed! What sort of man is this

  Who can deserve so highly, yet awake

  No pang of envy in the breasts of three

  Who speak his praise? The character he owns

  Must be of noble stamp indeed, or else

  A very blank. I'm curious to behold

  This wondrous man.

  [To DUKE ALVA.

  Conduct him to the council

  When mass is over.

  [Exit DUKE. The KING calls FERIA.

  And do you preside

  Here in my place.

  [Exit.

  FERIA.

  The king is kind to-day.

  MEDIA SIDONIA.

  Call him a god! So he has proved to me!

  FERIA.

  You well deserve your fortune, admiral!

  You have my warmest wishes.

  ONE OF THE GRANDEES.

  Sir, and mine.

  A SECOND.

  And also mine.

  A THIRD.

  My heart exults with joy-

  So excellent a general!

  THE FIRST.

  The king

  Showed you no kindness, 'twas your strict desert.

  LERMA (to MEDINA SIDONIA, taking leave).

  Oh, how two little words have made your fortune!

  [Exeunt all.

  SCENE VIII.

  The KING's Cabinet.

  MARQUIS POSA and DUKE ALVA.

  MARQUIS (as he enters).

  Does he want me? What me? Impossible!

  You must mistake the name. What can he want

  With me?

  ALVA.

  To know you.

  MARQUIS.

  Curiosity!

  No more; I regret the precious minutes

  That I must lose: time passes swiftly by.

  ALVA.

  I now commend you to your lucky stars.

  The king is in your hands. Employ this moment

  To your own best advantage; for, remember,

  If it is lost, you are alone to blame.


  SCENE IX.

  The MARQUIS alone.

  MARQUIS.

  Duke, 'tis well spoken! Turn to good account

  The moment which presents itself but once!

  Truly this courtier reads a useful lesson

  If not in his sense good, at least in mine.

  [Walks a few steps backwards and forwards.

  How came I here? Is it caprice or chance

  That shows me now my image in this mirror?

  Why, out of millions, should it picture me-

  The most unlikely-and present my form

  To the king's memory? Was this but chance?

  Perhaps 'twas something more!-what else is chance

  But the rude stone which from the sculptor's hand

  Receives its life? Chance comes from Providence,

  And man must mould it to his own designs.

  What the king wants with me but little matters;

  I know the business I shall have with him.

  Were but one spark of truth with boldness flung

  Into the despot's soul, how fruitful 'twere

  In the kind hand of Providence; and so

  What first appeared capricious act of chalice,

  May be designed for some momentous end.

  Whate'er it be, I'll act on this belief.

  [He takes a few turns in the room, and stands at last

  in tranquil contemplation before a painting. The KING

  appears in the neighboring room, where he gives some

  orders. He then enters and stands motionless at the door,

  and contemplates the MARQUIS for some time without being

  observed.

  SCENE X.

  The KING, and MARQUIS POSA.

  The MARQUIS, as soon as he observes the KING, comes forward

  and sinks on one knee; then rises and remains standing before

  him without any sign of confusion.

  KING (looks at him with surprise).

  We've met before then?

  MARQUIS.

  No.

  KING.

  You did my crown

  Some service? Why then do you shun my thanks?

  My memory is thronged with suitor's claims.

  One only is omniscient. 'Twas your duty

  To seek your monarch's eye! Why did you not?

  MARQUIS.

  Two days have scarce elapsed since my return

  From foreign travel, sire.

  KING.

  I would not stand

  Indebted to a subject; ask some favor--

  MARQUIS.

  I enjoy the laws.

  KING.

  So does the murderer!

  MARQUIS.

  Then how much more the honest citizen!

  My lot contents me, sire.

  KING (aside).

  By heavens! a proud

  And dauntless mind! That was to be expected.

  Proud I would have my Spaniards. Better far

  The cup should overflow than not be full.

  They say you've left my service?

  MARQUIS.

  To make way

  For some one worthier, I withdrew.

  KING.

  'Tis pity. When spirits such as yours make holiday,

  The state must suffer. But perchance you feared

  To miss the post best suited to your merits.

  MARQUIS.

  Oh, no! I doubt not the experienced judge,

  In human nature skilled-his proper study,-

  Will have discovered at a glance wherein

  I may be useful to him, wherein not.

  With deepest gratitude, I feel the favor

  Wherewith, by so exalted an opinion,

  Your majesty is loading me; and yet--

  [He pauses.

  KING.

  You hesitate?

  MARQUIS.

  I am, I must confess,

  Sire, at this moment, unprepared to clothe

  My thoughts, as the world's citizen, in phrase

  Beseeming to your subject. When I left

  The court forever, sire, I deemed myself

  Released from the necessity to give

  My reasons for this step.

  KING.

  Are they so weak?

  What do you fear to risk by their disclosure?

  MARQUIS.

  My life at farthest, sire,-were time allowed

  For me to weary you-but this denied-

  Then truth itself must suffer. I must choose

  'Twixt your displeasure and contempt.

  And if I must decide, I rather would appear

  Worthy of punishment than pity.

  KING (with a look of expectation).

  Well?

  MARQUIS.

  I cannot be the servant of a prince.

  [The KING looks at him with astonishment.

  I will not cheat the buyer. Should you deem

  Me worthy of your service, you prescribe

  A course of duty for me; you command

  My arm in battle and my head in council.

  Then, not my actions, but the applause they meet

  At court becomes their object. But for me

  Virtue possesses an intrinsic worth.

  I would, myself, create that happiness

  A monarch, with my hand, would seek to plant,

  And duty's task would prove an inward joy,

  And be my willing choice. Say, like you this?

  And in your own creation could you hear

  A new creator? For I ne'er could stoop

  To be the chisel where I fain would be-

  The sculptor's self. I dearly love mankind,

  My gracious liege, but in a monarchy

  I dare not love another than myself.

  KING.

  This ardor is most laudable. You wish

  To do good deeds to others; how you do them

  Is but of small account to patriots,

  Or to the wise. Choose then within these realms

  The office where you best may satisfy

  This noble impulse.

  MARQUIS.

  'Tis not to be found.

  KING.

  How!

  MARQUIS.

  What your majesty would spread abroad,

  Through these my hands-is it the good of men?

  Is it the happiness that my pure love

  Would to mankind impart? Before such bliss

  Monarchs would tremble. No! Court policy

  Has raised up new enjoyments for mankind.

  Which she is always rich enough to grant;

  And wakened, in the hearts of men, new wishes

  Which such enjoyments only can content.

  In her own mint she coins the truth-such truth!

  As she herself can tolerate: all forms

  Unlike her own are broken. But is that

  Which can content the court enough for me?

  Must my affection for my brother pledge

  Itself to work my brother injury?

  To call him happy when he dare not think?

  Sire, choose not me to spread the happiness

  Which you have stamped for us. I must decline

  To circulate such coin. I cannot be

  The servant of a prince.

  KING (suddenly).

  You are, perhaps,

  A Protestant?

  MARQUIS (after some reflection).

  Our creeds, my liege, are one.

  [A pause.

  I am misunderstood. I feared as much.

  You see the veil torn by my hand aside

  From all the mysteries of majesty.

  Who can assure you I shall still regard

  As sacred that which ceases to alarm me?

  I may seem dangerous, because I think

  Above myself. I am not so, my liege;

  My wishes lie corroding here. The rage

  [Laying his hand on his breast.

  For innovation, which but serves to in
crease

  The heavy weight of chains it cannot break,

  Shall never fire my blood! The world is yet

  Unripe for my ideal; and I live

  A citizen of ages yet to come.

  But does a fancied picture break your rest?

  A breach of yours destroys it.

  KING.

  Say, am I

  The first to whom your views are known?

  MARQUIS.

  You are.

  KING (rises, walks a few paces and then stops opposite

  the MARQUIS-aside).

  This tone, at least, is new; but flattery

  Exhausts itself. And men of talent still

  Disdain to imitate. So let us test

 

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