MARQUIS. The queen's writing! Impossible!

KING. The Princess Eboli's.

MARQUIS. Then, it was true, what the queen's page confessed, Not long since—that he brought this key and letter.

KING (grasping the MARQUIS' hand in great emotion). Marquis! I see that I'm in dreadful hands. This woman—I confess it—'twas this woman Forced the queen's casket: and my first suspicions Were breathed by her. Who knows how deep the priest May be engaged in this? I am deceived By cursed villany.

MARQUIS. Then it was lucky——

KING. Marquis! O marquis! I begin to fear I've wronged my wife.

MARQUIS. If there exist between The prince and queen some secret understandings, They are of other import, rest assured, Than those they charge her with. I know, for certain, The prince's prayer to be despatched to Flanders Was by the queen suggested.

KING. I have thought so.

MARQUIS. The queen's ambitious. Dare I speak more fully? She sees, with some resentment, her high hopes All disappointed, and herself shut out From share of empire. Your son's youthful ardor Offers itself to her far-reaching views, Her heart! I doubt if she can love.

KING. Her schemes Of policy can never make me tremble.

MARQUIS. Whether the Infant loves her—whether we Have something worse to fear from him,—are things Worthy our deep attention. To these points Our strictest vigilance must be directed.

KING. You must be pledge for him.

MARQUIS. And if the king Esteem me capable of such a task, I must entreat it be intrusted to me Wholly without conditions.

KING. So it shall.

MARQUIS. That in the steps which I may think required, I may be thwarted by no coadjutors, Whatever name they bear.

KING. I pledge my word You shall not. You have proved my guardian angel. How many thanks I owe you for this service!

[LERMA enters—the KING to him.

How did you leave the queen?

LERMA. But scarce recovered From her deep swoon.

[He looks at the MARQUIS doubtfully, and exit.

MARQUIS (to the KING, after a pause). One caution yet seems needful. The prince may be advised of our design, For he has many faithful friends in Ghent, And may have partisans among the rebels. Fear may incite to desperate resolves; Therefore I counsel that some speedy means Be taken to prevent this fatal chance.

KING. You are quite right—but how?

MARQUIS. Your majesty May sign a secret warrant of arrest And place it in my hands, to be employed, As may seem needful, in the hour of danger.

[The KING appears thoughtful.

This step must be a most profound state secret Until——

KING (going to his desk and writing the warrant of arrest). The kingdom is at stake, and now The pressing danger sanctions urgent measures. Here marquis! I need scarcely say—use prudence.

MARQUIS (taking the warrant). 'Tis only for the last extremity.

KING (laying his hand on the shoulder of the MARQUIS). Go! Go, dear marquis! Give this bosom peace, And bring back slumber to my sleepless pillow.

[Exeunt at different sides.



SCENE XIII.

A Gallery.

CARLOS entering in extreme agitation, COUNT LERMA meeting him.

CARLOS. I have been seeking you.

LERMA. And I your highness.

CARLOS. For heaven's sake is it true?

LERMA. What do you mean?

CARLOS. That the king drew his dagger, and that she Was borne, all bathed in blood, from the apartment? Now answer me, by all that's sacred; say, What am I to believe? What truth is in it?

LERMA. She fainted, and so grazed her skin in falling That is the whole.

CARLOS. Is there no further danger? Count, answer on your honor.

LERMA. For the queen No further danger; for yourself, there's much!

CARLOS. None for my mother. Then, kind Heaven, I thank thee. A dreadful rumor reached me that the king Raved against child and mother, and that some Dire secret was discovered.

LERMA. And the last May possibly be true.

CARLOS. Be true! What mean you?

LERMA. One warning have I given you, prince, already, And that to-day, but you despised it; now Perhaps you'll profit better by a second.

CARLOS. Explain yourself.

LERMA. If I mistake not, prince, A few days since I noticed in your hands An azure-blue portfolio, worked in velvet And chased with gold.

CARLOS (with anxiety). Yes, I had such a one.

LERMA. And on the cover, if I recollect, a portrait Set in pearls?

CARLOS. 'Tis right; go on.

LERMA. I entered the king's chamber on a sudden, And in his hands I marked that same portfolio, The Marquis Posa standing by his side.

CARLOS (after a short silence of astonishment, hastily). 'Tis false!

LERMA (warmly). Then I'm a traitor!

CARLOS (looking steadfastly at him). That you are!

LERMA. Well, I forgive you.

CARLOS (paces the apartment in extreme agitation, at length stands still before him). Has he injured thee? What have our guiltless ties of friendship done, That with a demon's zeal thou triest to rend them?

LERMA. Prince, I respect the grief which renders you So far unjust.

CARLOS. Heaven shield me from suspicion!

LERMA. And I remember, too, the king's own words. Just as I entered he addressed the marquis: "How many thanks I owe you for this news."

CARLOS. Oh, say no more!

LERMA. Duke Alva is disgraced! The great seal taken from the Prince Ruy Gomez, And given to the marquis.

CARLOS (lost in deep thought). And from me Has he concealed all this? And why from me?

LERMA. As minister all-powerful, the court Looks on him now—as favorite unrivalled!

CARLOS. He loved me—loved me greatly: I was dear As his own soul is to him. That I know— Of that I've had a thousand proofs. But should The happiness of millions yield to one? Must not his country dearer to him prove Than Carlos? One friend only is too few For his capacious heart. And not enough Is Carlos' happiness to engross his love. He offers me a sacrifice to virtue; And shall I murmur at him? Now 'tis certain I have forever lost him.

[He steps aside and covers his face.

LERMA. Dearest prince! How can I serve you?

CARLOS (without looking at him). Get you to the king; Go and betray me. I have naught to give.

LERMA. Will you then stay and brave the ill that follows?

CARLOS (leans on a balustrade and looks forward with a vacant gaze). I've lost him now, and I am destitute!

LERMA (approaching him with sympathizing emotion). And will you not consult your safety, prince?

CARLOS. My safety! Generous man!

LERMA: And is there, then, No other person you should tremble for?

CARLOS (starts up). Heavens! you remind me now. Alas! My mother! The letter that I gave him—first refused— Then after, gave him!

[He paces backwards and forwards with agitation, wringing his hands.

Has she then deserved This blow from him? He should have spared her, Lerma.

[In a hasty, determined tone.

But I must see her—warn her of her danger— I must prepare her, Lerma, dearest Lerma! Whom shall I send? Have I no friend remaining? Yes! Heaven be praised! I still have one; and now The worst is over. [Exit quickly.

LEEMA (follows, and calls after him). Whither, whither, prince?



SCENE XIV.

The QUEEN, ALVA, DOMINGO.

ALVA. If we may be permitted, gracious queen——

QUEEN. What are your wishes?

DOMINGO. A most true regard For your high majesty forbids us now To watch in careless silence an event Pregnant with danger to your royal safety.

ALVA. We hasten, by a kind and timely warning, To counteract a plot that's laid against you.

DOMINGO. And our warm zeal, and our best services, To lay before your feet, most gracious queen!

QUEEN (looking at them with astonishment). Most reverend sir, and you, my noble duke, You much surprise me. Such sincere attachment, In truth, I had not hoped for from Domingo, Nor from Duke Alva. Much I value it. A plot you mention, menacing my safety— Dare I inquire by whom——

ALVA. You will beware a certain Marquis Posa He has of late been secretly employed In the king's service.

QUEEN. With delight I hear The king has made so excellent a choice. Report, long since, has spoken of the marquis As a deserving, great, and virtuous man— The royal grace was ne'er so well bestowed!

DOMINGO. So well bestowed! We think far otherwise.

ALVA. It is no secret now, for what designs This man has been employed.

QUEEN. How! What designs? You put my expectation on the rack.

DOMINGO. How long is it since last your majesty Opened your casket?

QUEEN. Why do you inquire?

DOMINGO. Did you not miss some articles of value?

QUEEN. Why these suspicions? What I missed was then Known to the court! But what of Marquis Posa? Say, what connection has all this with him?

ALVA. The closest, please your majesty—the prince Has lost some papers of importance; And they were seen this morning with the king After the marquis had an audience of him.

QUEEN (after some consideration). This news is strange indeed—inexplicable To find a foe where I could ne'er have dreamed it, And two warm friends I knew not I possessed!

[Fixing her eyes steadfastly upon them.

And, to speak truth, I had well nigh imputed To you the wicked turn my husband served me.

ALVA. To us!

QUEEN. To you yourselves!

DOMINGO. To me! Duke Alva!

QUEEN (her eyes still fastened on them). I am glad to be so timely made aware Of my rash judgment—else had I resolved This very day to beg his majesty Would bring me face to face with my accusers. But I'm contented now. I can appeal To the Duke Alva for his testimony.

ALVA. For mine? You would not sure do that!

QUEEN. Why not?

ALVA. 'Twould counteract the services we might Render in secret to you.

QUEEN. How! in secret? [With stern dignity. I fain would know what secret projects, duke, Your sovereign's spouse can have to form with you, Or, priest! with you—her husband should not know? Think you that I am innocent or guilty?

DOMINGO. Strange question!

ALVA. Should the monarch prove unjust— And at this time——

QUEEN. Then I must wait for justice Until it come—and they are happiest far Whose consciences may calmly wait their right.

[Bows to them and exit. DOMINGO and ALVA exeunt on the opposite side.



SCENE XV.

Chamber Of PRINCESS EBOLI. PRINCESS EBOLI. CARLOS immediately after.

EBOLI. Is it then true—the strange intelligence, That fills the court with wonder?

CARLOS (enters). Do not fear Princess! I shall be gentle as a child.

EBOLI. Prince, this intrusion!

CARLOS. Are you angry still? Offended still with me——

EBOLI. Prince!

CARLOS (earnestly). Are you angry? I pray you answer me.

EBOLI. What can this mean? You seem, prince, to forget—what would you with me?

CARLOS (seizing her hand with warmth). Dear maiden! Can you hate eternally? Can injured love ne'er pardon?

EBOLI (disengaging herself). Prince! of what Would you remind me?

CARLOS. Of your kindness, dearest! And of my deep ingratitude. Alas, Too well I know it! deeply have I wronged thee— Wounded thy tender heart, and from thine eyes, Thine angel eyes, wrung precious tears, sweet maid! But ah! 'tis not repentance leads me hither.

EBOLI. Prince! leave me—I——

CARLOS. I come to thee, because Thou art a maid of gentle soul—because I trust thy heart—thy kind and tender heart. Think, dearest maiden! think, I have no friend, No friend but thee, in all this wretched world— Thou who wert once so kind wilt not forever Hate me, nor will thy anger prove eternal.

EBOLI (turning away her face). O cease! No more! for heaven's sake! leave me, prince.

CARLOS. Let me remind thee of those golden hours— Let me remind thee of thy love, sweet maid— That love which I so basely have offended! Oh, let me now appear to thee again As once I was—and as thy heart portrayed me. Yet once again, once only, place my image, As in days past, before thy tender soul, And to that idol make a sacrifice Thou canst not make to me.

EBOLI. Oh, Carlos, cease! Too cruelly thou sportest with my feelings!

CARLOS. Be nobler than thy sex! Forgive an insult! Do what no woman e'er has done before thee, And what no woman, after thee, can equal. I ask of thee an unexampled favor. Grant me—upon my knees I ask of thee Grant me two moments with the queen, my mother!

[He casts himself at her feet.



SCENE XVI.

The former. MARQUIS POSA rushes in; behind him two Officers of the Queen's Guard.

MARQUIS (breathless and agitated, rushing between CARLOS and the PRINCESS). Say, what has he confessed? Believe him not!

CARLOS (still on his knees, with loud voice). By all that's holy——

MARQUIS (interrupting him with vehemence). He is mad! He raves! Oh, listen to him not!

CARLOS (louder and more urgent). It is a question Of life and death; conduct me to her straight.

MARQUIS (dragging the PRINCESS from him by force). You die, if you but listen. [To one of the officers, showing an order. Count of Cordova! In the king's name, Prince Carlos is your prisoner.

[CARLOS stands bewildered. The PRINCESS utters a cry of horror, and tries to escape. The officers are astounded. A long and deep pause ensues. The MARQUIS trembles violently, and with difficulty preserves his composure. [To the PRINCE.

I beg your sword—The Princess Eboli Remains—— [To the officers. And you, on peril of your lives, Let no one with his highness speak—no person— Not e'en yourselves. [He whispers a few words to one officer, then turns to the other. I hasten, instantly, To cast myself before our monarch's feet, And justify this step—— [To the PRINCE. And prince! for you— Expect me in an hour.

[CARLOS permits himself to be led away without any signs of consciousness, except that in passing he casts a languid, dying look on the MARQUIS. The PRINCESS endeavors again to escape; the MARQUIS pulls her back by the arm.



SCENE XVII.

PRINCESS EBOLI, MARQUIS POSA.

EBOLI. For Heaven's sake let me leave this place——

MARQUIS (leads her forward with dreadful earnestness). Thou wretch! What has he said to thee?

EBOLI. Oh, leave me! Nothing.

MARQUIS (with earnestness; holding her back by force). How much has he imparted to thee? Here No way is left thee to escape. To none In this world shalt thou ever tell it.

EBOLI (looking at him with terror). Heavens! What would you do? Would you then murder me?

MARQUIS (drawing a dagger). Yes, that is my resolve. Be speedy!

EBOLI. Mercy! What have I then committed?

MARQUIS (looking towards heaven, points the dagger to her breast). Still there's time— The poison has not issued from these lips. Dash but the bowl to atoms, all remains Still as before! The destinies of Spain Against a woman's life!

[Remains doubtingly in this position.

EBOLI (having sunk down beside him, looks in his face). Do not delay— Why do you hesitate? I beg no mercy— I have deserved to die, and I am ready.

MARQUIS (letting his hand drop slowly—after some reflection). It were as cowardly as barbarous. No! God be praised! another way is left.

[He lets the dagger fall and hurries out. The PRINCESS hastens out through another door.



SCENE XVIII.

A Chamber of the QUEEN. The QUEEN to the COUNTESS FUENTES.

What means this noisy tumult in the palace? Each breath to-day alarms me! Countess! see What it portends, and hasten back with speed.

[Exit COUNTESS FUENTES—the PRINCESS EBOLI rushes in.



SCENE XIX.

The QUEEN, PRINCESS EBOLI.

EBOLI (breathless, pale, and wild, falls before the QUEEN). Help! Help! O Queen! he's seized!

QUEEN. Who?

EBOLI. He's arrested By the king's orders given to Marquis Posa.

QUEEN. Who is arrested? Who?

EBOLI. The prince!

QUEEN. Thou ravest

EBOLI. This moment they are leading him away.

QUEEN. And who arrested him?

EBOLI. The Marquis Posa.

QUEEN. Then heaven be praised! it was the marquis seized him!

EBOLI. Can you speak thus, and with such tranquil mien? Oh, heavens! you do not know—you cannot think——

QUEEN. The cause of his arrest! some trifling error, Doubtless arising from his headlong youth!

EBOLI. No! no! I know far better. No, my queen! Remorseless treachery! There's no help for him. He dies!

QUEEN. He dies!

EBOLI. And I'm his murderer!

QUEEN. What! Dies? Thou ravest! Think what thou art saying?

EBOLI. And wherefore—wherefore dies he? Had I known That it would come to this!

QUEEN (takes her affectionately by the hand). Oh, dearest princess, Your senses are distracted, but collect Your wandering spirits, and relate to me More calmly, not in images of horror That fright my inmost soul, whate'er you know! Say, what has happened?

EBOLI. Oh, display not, queen, Such heavenly condescension! Like hot flames This kindness sears my conscience. I'm not worthy To view thy purity with eyes profane. Oh, crush the wretch, who, agonized by shame, Remorse, and self-reproach writhes at thy feet!

QUEEN. Unhappy woman! Say, what is thy guilt?

EBOLI. Angel of light! Sweet saint! thou little knowest The demon who has won thy loving smiles. Know her to-day; I was the wretched thief Who plundered thee.

QUEEN. What! Thou?

EBOLI. And gave thy letters Up to the king?

QUEEN. What! Thou?

EBOLI. And dared accuse thee!

QUEEN. Thou! Couldst thou this?

EBOLI. Revenge and madness—love— I hated thee, and loved the prince!

QUEEN. And did His love so prompt thee?

QUEEN. And who arrested him?

EBOLI. I had owned my love, But met with no return.

QUEEN (after a pause). Now all's explained! Rise up!—you loved him—I have pardoned you I have forgotten all. Now, princess, rise.

[Holding out her hand to the PRINCESS.

EBOLI. No, no; a foul confession still remains. I will not rise, great queen, till I——

QUEEN. Then speak! What have I yet to hear?

EBOLI. The king! Seduction! Oh, now you turn away. And in your eyes I read abhorrence. Yes; of that foul crime I charged you with, I have myself been guilty.

[She presses her burning face to the ground. Exit QUEEN. A long pause. The COUNTESS OLIVAREZ, after some minutes, comes out of the cabinet, into which the QUEEN entered, and finds the PRINCESS still lying in the above posture. She approaches in silence. On hearing a noise, the latter looks up and becomes like a mad person when she misses the QUEEN.



SCENE XX.

PRINCESS EBOLI, COUNTESS OLIVAREZ.

EBOLI. Heavens! she has left me. I am now undone!

OLIVAREZ (approaching her). My princess—Eboli!

EBOLI. I know your business, Duchess, and you come hither from the queen, To speak my sentence to me; do it quickly.

OLIVAREZ. I am commanded by your majesty To take your cross and key.

EBOLI (takes from her breast a golden cross, and gives it to the UCHESS). And but once more May I not kiss my gracious sovereign's hand?

OLIVAREZ. In holy Mary's convent shall you learn Your fate, princess.

EBOLI (with a flood of tears). Alas! then I no more Shall ever see the queen.

OLIVAREZ (embraces her with her face turned away). Princess, farewell.

[She goes hastily away. The PRINCESS follows her as far as the door of the cabinet, which is immediately locked after the DUCHESS. She remains a few minutes silent and motionless on her knees before it. She then rises and hastens away, covering her face.



SCENE XXI.

QUEEN, MARQUIS POSA.

QUEEN. Ah, marquis, I am glad you're come at last!

MARQUIS (pale, with a disturbed countenance and trembling voice, in solemn, deep agitation, during the whole scene). And is your majesty alone? Can none Within the adjoining chamber overhear us?

QUEEN. No one! But why? What news would you impart?

[Looking at him closely, and drawing back alarmed.

And what has wrought this change in you? Speak, marquis, You make me tremble—all your features seem So marked with death!

MARQUIS. You know, perhaps, already.

QUEEN. That Carlos is arrested—and they add, By you! Is it then true? From no one else Would I believe it but yourself.

MARQUIS. 'Tis true.

QUEEN. By you?

MARQUIS. By me?

QUEEN (looks at him for some time doubtingly). I still respect your actions E'en when I comprehend them not. In this Pardon a timid woman! I much fear You play a dangerous game.

MARQUIS. And I have lost it.

QUEEN. Merciful heaven!

MARQUIS. Queen, fear not! He is safe, But I am lost myself.

QUEEN. What do I hear?

MARQUIS. Who bade me hazard all on one chance throw? All? And with rash, foolhardy confidence, Sport with the power of heaven? Of bounded mind, Man, who is not omniscient, must not dare To guide the helm of destiny. 'Tis just! But why these thoughts of self. This hour is precious As life can be to man: and who can tell Whether the parsimonious hand of fate May not have measured my last drops of life.

QUEEN. The hand of fate! What means this solemn tone? I understand these words not—but I shudder.

MARQUIS. He's saved! no matter at what price—he's saved! But only for to-day—a few short hours Are his. Oh, let him husband them! This night The prince must leave Madrid.

QUEEN. This very night?

MARQUIS. All measures are prepared. The post will meet him At the Carthusian convent, which has served So long as an asylum to our friendship. Here will he find, in letters of exchange, All in the world that fortune gifts me with. Should more be wanting, you must e'en supply it. In truth, I have within my heart full much To unburden to my Carlos—it may chance I shall want leisure now to tell him all In person—but this evening you will see him, And therefore I address myself to you.

QUEEN. Oh, for my peace of mind, dear marquis, speak! Explain yourself more clearly! Do not use This dark, and fearful, and mysterious language! Say, what has happened?

MARQUIS. I have yet one thing, A matter of importance on my mind: In your hands I deposit it. My lot Was such as few indeed have e'er enjoyed— I loved a prince's son. My heart to one— To that one object given.—embraced the world! I have created in my Carlos' soul, A paradise for millions! Oh, my dream Was lovely! But the will of Providence Has summoned me away, before my hour, From this my beauteous work. His Roderigo Soon shall be his no more, and friendship's claim Will be transferred to love. Here, therefore, here, Upon this sacred altar—on the heart Of his loved queen—I lay my last bequest A precious legacy—he'll find it here, When I shall be no more.

[He turns away, his voice choked with grief.

QUEEN. This is the language Of a dying man—it surely emanates But from your blood's excitement—or does sense Lie hidden in your language?

MARQUIS (has endeavored to collect himself, and continues in a solemn voice). Tell the prince, That he must ever bear in mind the oath We swore, in past enthusiastic days, Upon the sacred host. I have kept mine— I'm true to him till death—'tis now his turn——

QUEEN. Till death?

MARQUIS. Oh, bid him realize the dream, The glowing vision which our friendship painted, Of a new-perfect realm! And let him lay The first hand on the rude, unshapened stone. Whether he fail or prosper—all alike— Let him commence the work. When centuries Have rolled away shall Providence again Raise to the throne a princely youth like him, And animate again a favorite son Whose breast shall burn with like enthusiasm. Tell him, in manhood, he must still revere The dreams of early youth, nor ope the heart Of heaven's all-tender flower to canker-worms Of boasted reason,—nor be led astray When, by the wisdom of the dust, he hears Enthusiasm, heavenly-born, blasphemed. I have already told him.

QUEEN. Whither, marquis? Whither does all this tend?

MARQUIS. And tell him further, I lay upon his soul the happiness Of man—that with my dying breath I claim, Demand it of him—and with justest title. I had designed a new, a glorious morn, To waken in these kingdoms: for to me Philip had opened all his inmost heart— Called me his son—bestowed his seals upon me— And Alva was no more his counsellor.

[He pauses, and looks at the QUEEN for a few moments in silence.

You weep! I know those tears, beloved soul! Oh, they are tears of joy!—but it is past— Forever past! Carlos or I? The choice Was prompt and fearful. One of us must perish! And I will be that one. Oh, ask no more!

QUEEN. Now, now, at last, I comprehend your meaning, Unhappy man! What have you done?

MARQUIS. Cut off Two transient hours of evening to secure A long, bright summer-day! I now give up The king forever. What were I to the king? In such cold soil no rose of mine could bloom; In my great friend must Europe's fortune ripen. Spain I bequeath to him, still bathed in blood From Philip's iron hand. But woe to him, Woe to us both, if I have chosen wrong! But no—oh, no! I know my Carlos better— 'Twill never come to pass!—for this, my queen, You stand my surety. [After a silence. Yes! I saw his love In its first blossom—saw his fatal passion Take root in his young heart. I had full power To check it; but I did not. The attachment Which seemed to me not guilty, I still nourished. The world may censure me, but I repent not, Nor does my heart accuse me. I saw life Where death appeared to others. In a flame So hopeless I discerned hope's golden beam. I wished to lead him to the excellent— To exalt him to the highest point of beauty. Mortality denied a model to me, And language, words. Then did I bend his views To this point only—and my whole endeavor Was to explain to him his love.

QUEEN. Your friend, Marquis! so wholly occupied your mind, That for his cause you quite forgot my own— Could you suppose that I had thrown aside All woman's weaknesses, that you could dare Make me his angel, and confide alone In virtue for his armor? You forget What risks this heart must run, when we ennoble Passion with such a beauteous name as this.

MARQUIS. Yes, in all other women—but in one, One only, 'tis not so. For you, I swear it. And should you blush to indulge the pure desire To call heroic virtue into life? Can it affect King Philip, that his works Of noblest art, in the Escurial, raise Immortal longings in the painter's soul, Who stands entranced before them? Do the sounds That slumber in the lute, belong alone To him who buys the chords? With ear unmoved He may preserve his treasure:—he has bought The wretched right to shiver it to atoms, But not the power to wake its silver tones, Or, in the magic of its sounds, dissolve. Truth is created for the sage, as beauty Is for the feeling heart. They own each other. And this belief, no coward prejudice Shall make me e'er disclaim. Then promise, queen, That you will ever love him. That false shame, Or fancied dignity, shall never make you Yield to the voice of base dissimulation:— That you will love him still, unchanged, forever. Promise me this, oh, queen! Here solemnly Say, do you promise?

QUEEN. That my heart alone Shall ever vindicate my love, I promise——

MARQUIS (drawing his hand back). Now I die satisfied—my work is done.

[He bows to the QUEEN, and is about to go.

QUEEN (follows him with her eyes in silence). You are then going, marquis, and have not Told me how soon—and when—we meet again?

MARQUIS (comes back once more, his face turned away). Yes, we shall surely meet again!

QUEEN. Now, Posa, I understand you. Why have you done this?

MARQUIS. Carlos or I myself!

QUEEN. No! no! you rush Headlong into a deed you deem, sublime. Do not deceive yourself: I know you well: Long have you thirsted for it. If your pride But have its fill, what matters it to you Though thousand hearts should break. Oh! now, at length, I comprehend your feelings—'tis the love Of admiration which has won your heart——

MARQUIS (surprised, aside). No! I was not prepared for this——

QUEEN (after a pause). Oh, marquis! Is there no hope of preservation?

MARQUIS. None.

QUEEN. None? Oh, consider well! None possible! Not e'en by me?

MARQUIS. Not even, queen, by thee.

QUEEN. You but half know me—I have courage, marquis——

MARQUIS. I know it——

QUEEN. And no means of safety?

MARQUIS. None

QUEEN (turning away and covering her face). Go! Never more shall I respect a man——

MARQUIS (casts himself on his knees before her in evident emotion). O queen! O heaven! how lovely still is life!

[He starts up and rushes out. The QUEEN retires into her cabinet.



SCENE XXII.

DUKE ALVA and DOMINGO walking up and down in silence and separately. COUNT LERMA comes out of the KING's cabinet, and afterwards DON RAYMOND OF TAXIS, the Postmaster-General.

LERMA. Has not the marquis yet appeared?

ALVA. Not yet.

[LERMA about to re-enter the cabinet.

TAXIS (enters). Count Lerma! Pray announce me to the king?

LERMA. His majesty cannot be seen.

TAXIS. But say That I must see him; that my business is Of urgent import to his majesty. Make haste—it will admit of no delay.

[LERMA enters the cabinet.

ALVA. Dear Taxis, you must learn a little patience— You cannot see the king.

TAXIS. Not see him! Why?

ALVA. You should have been considerate, and procured Permission from the Marquis Posa first— Who keeps both son and father in confinement.

TAXIS. The Marquis Posa! Right—that is the man From whom I bring this letter.

ALVA. Ah! What letter?

TAXIS. A letter to be forwarded to Brussels.

ALVA (attentively). To Brussels?

TAXIS. And I bring it to the king.

ALVA. Indeed! to Brussels! Heard you that, Domingo?

DOMINGO (joining them). Full of suspicion!

TAXIS. And with anxious mien, And deep embarrassment he gave it to me.

DOMINGO. Embarrassment! To whom is it directed?

TAXIS. The Prince of Orange and Nassau.

ALVA. To William! There's treason here, Domingo!

DOMINGO. Nothing less! In truth this letter must, without delay, Be laid before the king. A noble service You render, worthy man—to be so firm In the discharge of duty.

TAXIS. Reverend sir! 'Tis but my duty.

ALVA. But you do it well.

LERMA (coming out of the cabinet, addressing TAXIS). The king will see you. [TAXIS goes in. Is the marquis come?

DOMINGO. He has been sought for everywhere.

ALVA. 'Tis strange! The prince is a state prisoner! And the king Knows not the reason why!

DOMINGO. He never came To explain the business here.

ALVA. What says the king?

LERMA. The king spoke not a word.

[A noise in the cabinet.

ALVA. What noise is that?

TAXIS (coming out of the cabinet). Count Lerma! [Both enter.

ALVA (to DOMINGO). What so deeply can engage them.

DOMINGO. That look of fear! This intercepted letter! It augurs nothing good.

ALVA. He sends for Lerma! Yet he must know full well that you and I Are both in waiting.

DOMINGO. Ah! our day is over!

ALVA. And am I not the same to whom these doors Flew open once? But, ah! how changed is all Around me and how strange!

[DOMINGO approaches the cabinet door softly, and remains listening before it.

ALVA (after a pause). Hark! All is still And silent as the grave!' I hear them breathe.

DOMINGO. The double tapestry absorbs the sounds!

ALVA. Away! there's some one coming. All appears So solemn and so still—as if this instant Some deep momentous question were decided.



SCENE XXIII.

The PRINCE OF PARMA, the DUKES OF FERIA and MEDINA SIDONIA, with other GRANDEES enter—the preceding.

PARMA. Say, can we see the king?

ALVA. No!

PARMA. Who is with him?

FERIA. The Marquis Posa, doubtless?

ALVA. Every instant He is expected here.

PARMA. This moment we Arrive from Saragossa. Through Madrid Terror prevails! Is the announcement true?

Domingo. Alas, too true!

FERIA. That he has been arrested By the marquis!

ALVA. Yes.

PARMA. And wherefore? What's the cause?

ALVA. Wherefore? That no one knows, except the king And Marquis Posa.

PARMA. And without the warrant Of the assembled Cortes of the Realm?

FERIA. That man shall suffer, who has lent a hand To infringe the nation's rights.

ALVA. And so say I!

MEDINA SIDONIA. And I!

THE OTHER GRANDEES. And all of us!

ALVA. Who'll follow me Into the cabinet? I'll throw myself Before the monarch's feet.

LERMA (rushing out of the cabinet). The Duke of Alva!

DOMINGO. Then God be praised at last!

LERMA. When Marquis Posa Comes, say the king's engaged and he'll be sent for.

DOMINGO (to LERMA; all the others having gathered round him, full of anxious expectation). Count! What has happened? You are pale as death!

LERMA (hastening away). Fell villany!

PARMA and FERIA. What! what!

MEDINA SIDONIA. How is the king?

DOMINGO (at the same time). Fell villany! Explain——

LERMA. The king shed tears!

DOMINGO. Shed tears!

ALL (together with astonishment). The king shed tears!

[The bell rings in the cabinet, COUNT LERMA hastens in.

DOMINGO. Count, yet one word. Pardon! He's gone! We're fettered in amazement.



SCENE XXIV.

PRINCESS EBOLI, FERIA, MEDINA SIDONIA, PARMA, DOMINGO, and other grandees.

EBOLI (hurriedly and distractedly). Where is the king? Where? I must speak with him. [To FERIA. Conduct me to him, duke!

FERIA. The monarch is Engaged in urgent business. No one now Can be admitted.

EBOLI. Has he signed, as yet, The fatal sentence? He has been deceived.

DOMINGO (giving her a significant look at a distance). The Princess Eboli!

EBOLI (going to him). What! you here, priest? The very man I want! You can confirm My testimony!

[She seizes his hand and would drag him into the cabinet.

DOMINGO. I? You rave, princess!

FERIA. Hold back. The king cannot attend you now.

EBOLI. But he must hear me; he must hear the truth The truth, were he ten times a deity.

EBOLI. Man, tremble at the anger of thy idol. I have naught left to hazard.

[Attempts to enter the cabinet; ALVA rushes out, his eyes sparkling, triumph in his gait. He hastens to DOMINGO, and embraces him.

ALVA. Let each church Resound with high To Dennis. Victory At length is ours.

DOMINGO. What! Ours?

ALVA (to DOMINGO and the other GRANDEES). Now to the king. You shall hereafter hear the sequel from me.



ACT V.

SCENE I.

A chamber in the royal palace, separated from a large fore-court by an iron-barred gate. Sentinels walking up and down. CARLOS sitting at a table, with his head leaning forward on his arms, as if he were asleep. In the background of the chamber are some officers, confined with him. The MARQUIS POSA enters, unobserved by him, and whispers to the officers, who immediately withdraw. He himself steps close up to CARLOS, and looks at him for a few minutes in silent sorrow. At last he makes a motion which awakens him out of his stupor. CARLOS rises, and seeing the MARQUIS, starts back. He regards him for some time with fixed eyes, and draws his hand over his forehead as if he wished to recollect something.

MARQUIS. Carlos! 'tie I.

CARLOS (gives him his hand). Comest thou to me again? 'Tis friendly of thee, truly.

MARQUIS. Here I thought Thou mightest need a friend.

CARLOS. Indeed! was that Thy real thought? Oh, joy unspeakable! Right well I knew thou still wert true to me.

MARQUIS. I have deserved this from thee.

CARLOS. Hast thou not? And now we understand each other fully, It joys my heart. This kindness, this forbearance Becomes our noble souls. For should there be One rash, unjust demand amongst my wishes, Wouldst thou, for that, refuse me what was just? Virtue I know may often be severe, But never is she cruel and inhuman. Oh! it hath cost thee much; full well I know How thy kind heart with bitter anguish bled As thy hands decked the victim for the altar.

MARQUIS. What meanest thou, Carlos?

CARLOS. Thou, thyself, wilt now Fulfil the joyous course I should have run. Thou wilt bestow on Spain those golden days She might have hoped in vain to win from me. I'm lost, forever lost; thou saw'st it clearly. This fatal love has scattered, and forever, All the bright, early blossoms of my mind. To all the great, exalted hopes I'm dead. Chance led thee to the king—or Providence,— It cost thee but my secret—and at once He was thine own—thou may'st become his angel: But I am lost, though Spain perhaps may flourish. Well, there is nothing to condemn, if not My own mad blindness. Oh, I should have known That thou art no less great than tender-hearted.

MARQUIS. No! I foresaw not, I considered not That friendship's generous heart would lead thee on Beyond my worldly prudence. I have erred, My fabric's shattered—I forgot thy heart.

CARLOS. Yet, if it had been possible to spare Her fate—oh, how intensely I had thanked thee! Could I not bear the burden by myself? And why must she be made a second victim? But now no more, I'll spare thee this reproach. What is the queen to thee? Say, dost thou love her? Could thy exalted virtue e'er consult The petty interests of my wretched passion? Oh, pardon me! I was unjust——

MARQUIS. Thou art so! But not for this reproach. Deserved I one, I merit all—and then I should not stand Before you as I do. [He takes out his portfolio. I have some letters To give you back of those you trusted to me.

CARLOS (looks first at the letters, then at the MARQUIS, in astonishment). How!

MARQUIS. I return them now because they may Prove safer in thy custody than mine.

CARLOS. What meanest thou? Has his majesty not read them? Have they not been before him?

MARQUIS. What, these letters!

CARLOS. Thou didst not show them all, then?

MARQUIS. Who has said That ever I showed one?

CARLOS (astonished). Can it be so? Count Lerma——

MARQUIS. He! he told thee so! Now all Is clear as day. But who could have foreseen it? Lerma! Oh, no, he hath not learned to lie. 'Tis true, the king has all the other letters.

CARLOS (looks at him long with speechless astonishment). But wherefore am I here?

MARQUIS. For caution's sake, Lest thou should chance, a second time, to make An Eboli thy confidant.

CARLOS (as if waking from a dream). Ha! Now I see it all—all is explained.

MARQUIS (goes to the door). Who's there?



SCENE II.

DUKE ALVA. The former.

ALVA (approaching the PRINCE with respect, but turning his back on the MARQUIS during the whole scene). Prince, you are free. Deputed by the king I come to tell you so.

[CARLOS looks at the MARQUIS with astonishment. General silence.

And I, in truth, Am fortunate to have this honor first——

CARLOS (looking at both with extreme amazement, after a pause, to the DUKE). I am imprisoned, duke, and set at freedom, Unconscious of the cause of one or other.

ALVA. As far as I know, prince, 'twas through an error, To which the king was driven by a traitor.

CARLOS. Then am I here by order of the king?

ALVA. Yes, through an error of his majesty.

CARLOS. That gives me pain, indeed. But when the king Commits an error, 'twould beseem the king, Methinks, to remedy the fault in person. I am Don Philip's son—and curious eyes And slanderous looks are on me. What the king Hath done from sense of duty ne'er will I Appear to owe to your considerate favor. I am prepared to appear before the Cortes, And will not take my sword from such a hand.

ALVA. The king will never hesitate to grant Your highness a request so just. Permit That I conduct you to him.

CARLOS. Here I stay Until the king or all Madrid shall come To lead me from my prison. Take my answer.

[ALVA withdraws. He is still seen for some time lingering in the court and giving orders to the guards.



SCENE III.

CARLOS and MARQUIS POSA.

CARLOS (after the departure of the DUKE, full of expectation and astonishment, to the MARQUIS). What means all this? Inform me, Roderigo— Art thou not, then, the minister?

MARQUIS. I was, As thou canst well perceive—— [Going to him with great emotion. O Carlos! Now

I have succeeded—yes—it is accomplished— 'Tis over now—Omnipotence be praised, To whom I owe success.

CARLOS. Success! What mean you? Thy words perplex me.

MARQUIS (takes his hand). Carlos! thou art saved— Art free—but I—— [He stops short.

CARLOS. But thou——

MARQUIS. Thus to my breast I press thee now, with friendship's fullest right, A right I've bought with all I hold most dear. How great, how lovely, Carlos, is this moment Of self-approving joy?

CARLOS. What sudden change I mark upon thy features! Proudly now Thy bosom heaves, thine eyes dart vivid fire!

MARQUIS. We must say farewell, Carlos! Tremble 'not, But be a man! And what thou more shalt hear, Promise me, not by unavailing sorrow, Unworthy of great souls, to aggravate The pangs of parting. I am lost to thee, Carlos, for many years—fools say forever.

[CARLOS withdraws his hand, but makes no reply.

Be thou a man: I've reckoned much on thee— I have not even shunned to pass with thee This awful hour—which men, in words of fear, Have termed the final one. I own it, Carlos, I joy to pass it thus. Come let us sit— I feel myself grown weary and exhausted.

[He approaches CARLOS, who is in a lifeless stupor, and allows himself to be involuntarily drawn down by him.

Where art thou? No reply! I must be brief. Upon the day that followed our last meeting At the Carthusian monastery the king Called me before him. What ensued thou knowest, And all Madrid. Thou hast not heard, however, Thy secret even then had reached his ears— That letters in the queen's possession found Had testified against thee. This I learned From his own lips—I was his confidant.

[He pauses for CARLOS' answer, but he still remains silent.

Yes, Carlos, with my lips I broke my faith— Guided the plot myself that worked thy ruin. Thy deed spoke trumpet-tongued; to clear thee fully 'Twas now too late: to frustrate his revenge Was all that now remained for me; and so I made myself thy enemy to-serve thee With fuller power—dost thou not hear me, Carlos,

CARLOS. Go on! go on! I hear thee.

MARQUIS. To this point I'm guiltless. But the unaccustomed beams Of royal favor dazzled me. The rumor, As I had well foreseen, soon reached thine ears But by mistaken delicacy led, And blinded by my vain desire to end My enterprise alone, I kept concealed From friendship's ear my hazardous design. This was my fatal error! Here I failed! I know it. My self-confidence was madness. Pardon that confidence—'twas founded, Carlos, Upon our friendship's everlasting base.

[He pauses. CARLOS passes from torpid silence to violent agitation.

That which I feared befell. Unreal dangers Alarmed your mind. The bleeding queen—the tumult Within the palace—Lerma's interference— And, last of all, my own mysterious silence, Conspired to overwhelm thy heart with wonder. Thou wavered'st, thought'st me lost; but far too noble To doubt thy friend's integrity, thy soul Clothed his defection with a robe of honor, Nor judged him faithless till it found a motive To screen and justify his breach of faith. Forsaken by thy only friend—'twas then Thou sought'st the arms of Princess Eboli— A demon's arms! 'Twas she betrayed thee, Carlos! I saw thee fly to her—a dire foreboding Struck on my heart—I followed thee too late! Already wert thou prostrate at her feet, The dread avowal had escaped thy lips— No way was left to save thee.

CARLOS. No! her heart Was moved, thou dost mistake, her heart was moved.

MARQUIS. Night overspread my mind. No remedy, No refuge, no retreat was left to me In nature's boundless compass. Blind despair Transformed me to a fury—to a tiger— I raised my dagger to a woman's breast. But in that moment—in that dreadful moment— A radiant sunbeam fell upon my soul. "Could I mislead the king! Could I succeed In making him think me the criminal! However improbable, the very guilt Will be enough to win the king's belief. I'll dare the task—a sudden thunderbolt May make the tyrant start—what want I further? He stops to think, and Carlos thus gains time To fly to Brussels."

CARLOS. And hast thou done this?

MARQUIS. I have despatched a letter to Prince William, Saying I loved the queen, and had escaped The king's mistrust in the unjust suspicion Which falsely fell on thee—that I had found Means, through the monarch's favor, to obtain Free access to the queen. I added, further, That I was fearful of discovery— That thou hadst learned my secret, and hadst sped To Princess Eboli, with hopes through her To warn the queen—that I had made thee prisoner— And now that all seemed lost, I had resolved To fly to Brussels. This same letter I——

CARLOS (interrupts him, terrified). Hast surely not intrusted to the post! Thou knowest that letters to Brabant and Flanders——

MARQUIS. Are given to the king; and as things go Taxis would seem to have discharged his duty.

CARLOS. Heavens! then I'm lost.

MARQUIS. How lost? What meanest thou?

CARLOS. And thou, alas! art lost together with me— This dreadful fraud my father ne'er will pardon.

MARQUIS. This fraud! Thou'rt mad! Who will disclose it to him?

CARLOS (regards him with a fixed look). Who! Dost thou ask? I will myself.

MARQUIS. Thou ravest! Stand back——

CARLOS. Away! For heaven's sake hold me not. While I stay here, he's hiring the assassins.

MARQUIS. Then is our time more precious—and we still Have much to say.

CARLOS. What! Before all is finished?

[He makes another effort to go. The MARQUIS holds him by the arm, and looks at him impressively.

MARQUIS. Carlos! was I so scrupulous—so eager— When thou, a boy, didst shed thy blood for me?

CARLOS (with emotion, and full of admiration). Kind Providence!

MARQUIS. Reserve thyself for Flanders! The kingdom is thy destiny—'tis mine To give my life for thee.

CARLOS (takes his hand with deep sensibility). No, no! he will not, Cannot resist a virtue so sublime. I will conduct thee to him, and together, Arm linked in arm, will we appear before him. Then thus will I address him: "Father, see, This is the way a friend acts towards his friend." Trust me, 'twill move him—it will touch his heart. He's not without humanity,—my father. Yes, it will move him. With hot tears, his eyes Will overflow—and he will pardon us.

[A shot is fired through the iron grating. CARLOS leaps up.

Whom was that meant for?

MARQUIS (sinking down). I believe—for me.

CARLOS (falling to the earth with a loud cry of grief). O God of mercy!

MARQUIS. He is quick—the king. I had hoped—a little longer—Carlos—think Of means of flight—dost hear me?—of thy flight. Thy mother—knows it all—I can no more. [Dies.

[CARLOS remains by the corpse, like one bereft of life. After some time the KING enters, accompanied by many GRANDEES; and starts, panic-struck, at the sight. A general and deep silence. The GRANDEES range themselves in a semi-circle round them both, and regard the KING and his SON alternately. The latter continues without any sign of life. The KING regards him in thoughtful silence.



SCENE IV.

The KING, CARLOS, the DUKESS ALVA, FERIA, and MEDINA SIDONIA, PRINCE OF PARMA, COUNT LERMA, DOMINGO, and numerous GRANDEES.

KING (in a gentle tone). Thy prayer hath met a gracious hearing, prince, And here I come, with all the noble peers Of this my court, to bring thee liberty.

[CARLOS raises his eyes and looks around him like one awakened from a dream. His eyes are fixed now on the KING, now on the corpse; he gives no answer.

Receive thy sword again. We've been too rash!

[He approaches him, holds out his hand, and assists him to rise.

My son's not in his place; Carlos, arise! Come to thy father's arms! His love awaits thee.

CARLOS (receives the embrace of the KING without any consciousness. Suddenly recollects himself, pauses and looks fixedly at him). Thou smell'st of blood—no, I cannot embrace thee!

[Pushes his father back. All the GRANDEES are in commotion. CARLOS to them:—

Nay, stand not there confounded and amazed!— What monstrous action have I done? Defiled The anointed of the Lord! Oh, fear me not, I would not lay a hand on him. Behold, Stamped on his forehead is the damning brand! The hand of God hath marked him!

KING (about to go quickly). Nobles! follow.

CARLOS. Whither? You stir not from this spot.

[Detaining the KING forcibly with both hands, while with one he manages to seize the sword which the KING has brought with him, and it comes from the scabbard.

KING. What! Draw A sword upon thy father?

ALL THE GRANDEES (drawing their swords). Regicide!

CARLOS (holding the KING firmly with one hand, the naked sword in the other). Put up your swords! What! Think you I am mad? I am not so: or you were much to blame Thus to remind me, that upon the point Of this my sword, his trembling life doth hover. I pray you, stand aloof; for souls like mine Need soothing. There—hold back! And with the king What I have yet to settle touches not Your loyalty. See there—his hand is bloody! Do you not see it? And now look you here!

[Pointing to the corpse.

This hath he done with a well-practised hand.

KING (to the GRANDEES, who press anxiously around him). Retire! Why do you tremble? Are we not Father and son? I will yet wait and see To what atrocious crime his nature——

CARLOS. Nature I know her not. Murder is now the word! The bonds of all humanity are severed, Thine own hands have dissolved them through the realm. Shall I respect a tie which thou hast scorned? Oh, see! see here! the foulest deed of blood That e'er the world beheld. Is there no God That kings, in his creation, work such havoc? Is there no God, I ask? Since mother's wombs Bore children, one alone—and only one— So guiltlessly hath died. And art thou sensible What thou hast done? Oh, no! he knows it not: Knows not that he has robbed—despoiled the world Of a more noble, precious, dearer life Than he and all his century can boast.

KING (with a tone of softness). If I have been too hasty, Carlos—thou For whom I have thus acted, should at least Not call me to account.

CARLOS. Is't possible! Did you then never guess how dear to me Was he who here lies dead? Thou lifeless corpse! Instruct him—aid his wisdom, to resolve This dark enigma now. He was my friend. And would you know why he has perished thus? He gave his life for me.

KING. Ha? my suspicions!

CARLOS. Pardon, thou bleeding corpse, that I profane Thy virtue to such ears. But let him blush With deep-felt shame, the crafty politician, That his gray-headed wisdom was o'erreached, E'en by the judgment of a youth. Yes, sire, We two were brothers! Bound by nobler bands Than nature ties. His whole life's bright career Was love. His noble death was love for me. E'en in the moment when his brief esteem Exalted you, he was my own. And when With fascinating tongue he sported with Your haughty, giant mind, 'twas your conceit To bridle him; but you became yourself The pliant tool of his exalted plans. That I became a prisoner, my arrest, Was his deep friendship's meditated work. That letter to Prince William was designed To save my life. It was the first deceit He ever practised. To insure my safety He rushed on death himself, and nobly perished. You lavished on him all your favor; yet For me he died. Your heart, your confidence, You forced upon him. As a toy he held Your sceptre and your power; he cast them from him, And gave his life for me.

[The KING stands motionless, with eyes fixed on the ground; all the GRANDEES regard him with surprise and alarm.

How could it be That you gave credit to this strange deceit? Meanly indeed he valued you, to try By such coarse artifice to win his ends. You dared to court his friendship, but gave way Before a test so simple. Oh, no! never For souls like yours was such a being formed. That well he knew himself, when he rejected Your crowns, your gifts, your greatness, and yourself. This fine-toned lyre broke in your iron hand, And you could do no more than murder him.

ALVA (never having taken his eyes from the KING, and observing his emotion with uneasiness, approaches him with apprehension). Keep not this deathlike silence, sire. Look round, And speak at least to us.

CARLOS. Once you were not Indifferent to him. And deeply once You occupied his thoughts. It might have been His lot to make you happy. His full heart Might have enriched you; with its mere abundance An atom of his soul had been enough To make a god of you. You've robbed yourself— Plundered yourself and me. What could you give, To raise again a spirit like to this?

[Deep silence. Many of the GRANDEES turn away, or conceal their faces in their mantles.

Oh, ye who stand around with terror dumb, And mute surprise, do not condemn the youth Who holds this language to the king, his father. Look on this corpse. Behold! for me he died. If ye have tears—if in your veins flow blood, Not molten brass, look here, and blame me not.

[He turns to the KING with more self-possession and calmness.

Doubtless you wait the end of this rude scene? Here is my sword, for you are still my king. Think not I fear your vengeance. Murder me, As you have murdered this most noble man. My life is forfeit; that I know full well. But what is life to me? I here renounce All that this world can offer to my hopes. Seek among strangers for a son. Here lies My kingdom.

[He sinks down on the corpse, and takes no part in what follows. A confused tumult and the noise of a crowd is heard in the distance. All is deep silence round the KING. His eyes scan the circle over, but no one returns his looks.

KING. What! Will no one make reply? Each eye upon the ground, each look abashed! My sentence is pronounced. I read it here Proclaimed in all this lifeless, mute demeanor. My vassals have condemned me.

[Silence as before. The tumult grows louder. A murmur is heard among the GRANDEES. They exchange embarrassed looks. COUNT LERMA at length gently touches ALVA.

LERMA. Here's rebellion!

ALVA (in a low voice). I fear it.

LERMA. It approaches! They are coming!



SCENE V.

An officer of the Body Guard. The former.

OFFICER (urgently). Rebellion! Where's the king? [He makes his way through the crowd up to the KING. Madrid's in arms! To thousands swelled, the soldiery and people Surround the palace; and reports are spread That Carlos is a prisoner—that his life Is threatened. And the mob demand to see Him living, or Madrid will be in flames.

THE GRANDEES (with excitement). Defend the king!

ALVA (to the KING, who remains quiet and unmoved). Fly, sire! your life's in danger. As yet we know not who has armed the people.

KING (rousing from his stupor, and advancing with dignity among then). Stands my throne firm, and am I sovereign yet Over this empire? No! I'm king no more. These cowards weep—moved by a puny boy. They only wait the signal to desert me. I am betrayed by rebels!

ALVA. Dreadful thought!

KING. There! fling yourselves before him—down before The young, the expectant king; I'm nothing now But a forsaken, old, defenceless man!

ALVA. Spaniards! is't come to this?

[All crowd round the KING, and fall on their knees before him with drawn swords. CARLOS remains alone with the corpse, deserted by all.

KING (tearing off his mantle and throwing it from him). There! clothe him now With this my royal mantle; and on high Bear him in triumph o'er my trampled corpse!

[He falls senseless in ALVA's and LERMA's arms.

LERMA. For heaven's sake, help!

FERIA. Oh, sad, disastrous chance!

LERMA. He faints!

ALVA (leaves the KING in LERMA's and FERIA's hands). Attend his majesty! whilst I Make it my aim to tranquillize Madrid.

[Exit ALVA. The KING is borne off, attended by all the grandees.



SCENE VI.

CARLOS remains behind with the corpse. After a few moments Louis MERCADO appears, looks cautiously round him, and stands a long time silent behind the PRINCE, who does not observe him.

MERCADO. I come, prince, from her majesty the queen. [CARLOS turns away and makes no reply. My name, Mercado, I'm the queen's physician See my credentials. [Shows the PRINCE a signet ring. CARLOS remains still silent. And the queen desires To speak with you to-day—on weighty business.

CARLOS. Nothing is weighty in this world to me.

MERCADO. A charge the Marquis Posa left with her.

CARLOS (looking up quickly). Indeed! I come this instant.

MERCADO. No, not yet, Most gracious prince! you must delay till night. Each avenue is watched, the guards are doubled You ne'er could reach the palace unperceived; You would endanger everything.

CARLOS. And yet——

MERCADO. I know one means alone that can avail us. 'Tis the queen's thought, and she suggests it to you; But it is bold, adventurous, and strange!

CARLOS. What is it?

MERCADO. A report has long prevailed That in the secret vaults, beneath the palace, At midnight, shrouded in a monk's attire, The emperor's departed spirit walks. The people still give credit to the tale, And the guards watch the post with inward terror. Now, if you but determine to assume This dress, you may pass freely through the guards, Until you reach the chamber of the queen, Which this small key will open. Your attire Will save you from attack. But on the spot, Prince! your decision must be made at once. The requisite apparel and the mask Are ready in your chamber. I must haste And take the queen your answer.

CARLOS. And the hour?

MERCADO. It is midnight.

CARLOS. Then inform her I will come.

[Exit MERCADO.



SCENE VII.

CARLOS and COUNT LERMA.

LERMA. Save yourself, prince! The king's enraged against you. Your liberty, if not your life's in danger! Ask me no further—I have stolen away To give you warning—fly this very instant!

CARLOS. Heaven will protect me!

LERMA. As the queen observed To me, this moment, you must leave Madrid This very day, and fly to Brussels, prince. Postpone it not, I pray you. The commotion Favors your flight. The queen, with this design, Has raised it. No one will presume so far As to lay hand on you. Swift steeds await you At the Carthusian convent, and behold, Here are your weapons, should you be attacked.

[LERMA gives him a dagger and pistols.

CARLOS. Thanks, thanks, Count Lerma!

LERMA. This day's sad event Has moved my inmost soul! No faithful friend Will ever love like him. No patriot breathes But weeps for you. More now I dare not say.

CARLOS. Count Lerma! he who's gone considered you A man of honor.

LERMA. Farewell, prince, again! Success attend you! Happier times will come— But I shall be no more. Receive my homage!

[Falls on one knee.

CARLOS (endeavors to prevent him, with much emotion). Not so—not so, count! I am too much moved— I would not be unmanned!

LERMA (kissing his hand with feeling). My children's king! To die for you will be their privilege! It is not mine, alas! But in those children Remember me! Return in peace to Spain. May you on Philip's throne feel as a man, For you have learned to suffer! Undertake No bloody deed against your father, prince! Philip compelled his father to yield up The throne to him; and this same Philip now Trembles at his own son. Think, prince, of that And may Heaven prosper and direct your path!

[Exit quickly. CARLOS about to hasten away by another side, but turns rapidly round, and throws himself down before the copse, which he again folds in his arms. He then hurries from the room.



SCENE VIII.

The KING's Antechamber. DUKE ALVA and DUKE FERIA enter in conversation.

ALVA. The town is quieted. How is the king?

FERIA. In the most fearful state. Within his chamber He is shut up, and whatso'er may happen He will admit no person to his presence. The treason of the marquis has at once Changed his whole nature. We no longer know him.

ALVA. I must go to him, nor respect his feelings. A great discovery which I have made——

FERIA. A new discovery!

ALVA. A Carthusian monk My guards observed, with stealthy footsteps, creep Into the prince's chamber, and inquire With anxious curiosity, about The Marquis Posa's death. They seized him straight, And questioned him. Urged by the fear of death, He made confession that he bore about him Papers of high importance, which the marquis Enjoined him to deliver to the prince, If, before sunset, he should not return.

FERIA. Well, and what further?

ALVA. These same letters state That Carlos from Madrid must fly before The morning dawn.

FERIA. Indeed!

ALVA. And that a ship at Cadiz lies Ready for sea, to carry him to Flushing. And that the Netherlands but wait his presence, To shake the Spanish fetters from their arms.

FERIA. Can this be true?

ALVA. And other letters say A fleet of Soliman's will sail for Rhodes, According to the treaty, to attack The Spanish squadron in the Midland seas.

FERIA. Impossible.

ALVA. And hence I understand The object of the journeys, which of late The marquis made through Europe. 'Twas no less Than to rouse all the northern powers to arms In aid of Flanders' freedom.

FERIA. Was it so?

ALVA. There is besides appended to these letters The full concerted plan of all the war Which is to disunite from Spain's control The Netherlands forever. Naught omitted; The power and opposition close compared; All the resources accurately noted, Together with the maxims to be followed, And all the treaties which they should conclude. The plan is fiendish, but 'tis no less splendid.

FERIA. The deep, designing traitor!

ALVA. And, moreover, There is allusion made, in these same letters, To some mysterious conference the prince Must with his mother hold upon the eve Preceding his departure.

FERIA.

That must be This very day.

ALVA. At midnight. But for this I have already taken proper steps. You see the case is pressing. Not a moment Is to be lost. Open the monarch's chamber.

FERIA. Impossible! All entrance is forbidden.

ALVA. I'll open then myself; the increasing danger Must justify my boldness.

[As he is on the point of approaching the door it opens, and the KING comes out.

FERIA. 'Tis himself.



SCENE IX.

The KING. The preceding.

All are alarmed at his appearance, fall back, and let him pass through them. He appears to be in a waking dream, like a sleep-walker. His dress and figure indicate the disorder caused by his late fainting. With slow steps he walks past the GRANDEES and looks at each with a fixed eye, but without recognizing any of them. At last he stands still, wrapped in thought, his eyes fixed on the ground, till the emotions of his mind gradually express themselves in words.

KING. Restore me back the dead! Yes, I must have him.

DOMINGO (whispering to ALVA). Speak to him, duke.

KING. He died despising me! Have him again I must, and make him think More nobly of me.

ALVA (approaching with fear). Sire!

KING (looking round the circle). Who speaks to me! Have you forgotten who I am? Why not Upon your knees, before your king, ye creatures! Am I not still your king? I must command Submission from you. Do you all then slight me Because one man despised me?

ALVA. Gracious king! No more of him: a new and mightier foe Arises in the bosom of your realm.

FERIA. Prince Carlos——

KING. Had a friend who died for him; For him! With me he might have shared an empire. How he looked down upon me! From the throne Kings look not down so proudly. It was plain How vain his conquest made him. His keen sorrow Confessed how great his loss. Man weeps not so For aught that's perishable. Oh, that he might But live again! I'd give my Indies for it! Omnipotence! thou bring'st no comfort to me: Thou canst not stretch thine arm into the grave To rectify one little act, committed With hasty rashness, 'gainst the life of man. The dead return no more. Who dare affirm That I am happy? In the tomb he dwells, Who scorned to flatter me. What care I now For all who live? One spirit, one free being, And one alone, arose in all this age! He died despising me!

ALVA. Our lives are useless! Spaniards, let's die at once! E'en in the grave This man still robs us of our monarch's heart.

KING (sits down, and leans his head on his arm). Oh! had he died for me! I loved him, too, And much. Dear to me was he as a son. In his young mind there brightly rose for me A new and beauteous morning. Who can say What I had destined for him? He to me Was a first love. All Europe may condemn me, Europe may overwhelm me with its curse, But I deserved his thanks.

DOMINGO. What spell is this?

KING. And, say, for whom did he desert me thus? A boy,—my son? Oh, no, believe it not! A Posa would not perish for a boy; The scanty flame of friendship could not fill A Posa's heart. It beat for human kind. His passion was the world, and the whole course Of future generations yet unborn. To do them service he secured a throne— And lost it. Such high treason 'gainst mankind Could Posa e'er forgive himself? Oh, no; I know his feelings better. Not that he Carlos preferred to Philip, but the youth— The tender pupil,—to the aged monarch. The father's evening sunbeam could not ripen His novel projects. He reserved for this The young son's orient rays. Oh, 'tis undoubted, They wait for my decease.

ALVA. And of your thoughts, Read in these letters strongest confirmation.

KING. 'Tis possible he may miscalculate. I'm still myself. Thanks, Nature, for thy gifts; I feel within my frame the strength of youth; I'll turn their schemes to mockery. His virtue Shall be an empty dream—his death, a fool's. His fall shall crush his friend and age together. We'll test it now—how they can do without me. The world is still for one short evening mine, And this same evening will I so employ, That no reformer yet to cone shall reap Another harvest, in the waste I'll leave, For ten long generations after me. He would have offered me a sacrifice To his new deity—humanity! So on humanity I'll take revenge. And with his puppet I'll at once commence. [To the DUKE ALVA. What you have now to tell me of the prince, Repeat. What tidings do these letters bring?

ALVA. These letters, sire, contain the last bequest Of Posa to Prince Carlos.

KING (reads the papers, watched by all present. He then lays them aside and walks in silence up and down the room). Summon straight The cardinal inquisitor; and beg He will bestow an hour upon the king, This very night!

TAXIS. Just on the stroke of two The horses must be ready and prepared, At the Carthusian monastery.

ALVA. Spies Despatched by me, moreover, have observed Equipments at the convent for a journey, On which the prince's arms were recognized.

FERIA. And it is rumored that large sums are raised In the queen's name, among the Moorish agents, Destined for Brussels.

KING. Where is Carlos?

ALVA. With Posa's body.

KING. And there are lights as yet Within the queen's apartments?

ALVA. Everything Is silent there. She has dismissed her maids Far earlier than as yet has been her custom. The Duchess of Arcos, who was last with her, Left her in soundest sleep.

[An officer of the Body Guard enters, takes the DUKE OF FERIA aside, and whispers to him. The latter, struck with surprise, turns to DUKE ALVA. The others crowd round him, and a murmuring noise arises.

FERIA, TAXIS, and DOMINGO (at the same time) 'Tis wonderful!

KING. What is the matter!

FERIA. News scarce credible!

DOMINGO. Two soldiers, who have just returned from duty, Report—but—oh, the tale's ridiculous!

KING. What do they say?

ALVA. They say, in the left wing Of the queen's palace, that the emperor's ghost Appeared before them, and with solemn gait Passed on. This rumor is confirmed by all The sentinels, who through the whole pavilion Their watches keep. And they, moreover, add, The phantom in the queen's apartment vanished.

KING. And in what shape appeared it?

OFFICER. In the robes, The same attire he in Saint Justi wore For the last time, apparelled as a monk.

KING. A monk! And did the sentries know his person Whilst he was yet alive? They could not else Determine that it was the emperor.

OFFICER. The sceptre which he bore was evidence It was the emperor.

DOMINGO. And the story goes He often has been seen in this same dress.

KING. Did no one speak to him?

OFFICER. No person dared. The sentries prayed, and let him pass in silence.

KING. The phantom vanished in the queen's apartments!

OFFICER. In the queen's antechamber.

[General silence.

KING (turns quickly round). What say you?

ALVA. Sire! we are silent.

KING (after some thought, to the OFFICER). Let my guards be ready And under arms, and order all approach To that wing of the palace to be stopped. I fain would have a word with this same ghost.

[Exit OFFICER. Enter a PAGE.

PAGE. The cardinal inquisitor.

KING (to all present). Retire!

[The CARDINAL INQUISITOR, an old man of ninety, and blind, enters, supported on a staff, and led by two Dominicans. The GRANDEES fall on their knees as he passes, and touch the hem of his garment. He gives them his blessing, and they depart.



SCENE X.

The KING and the GRAND INQUISITOR. A long silence.

GRAND INQUISITOR. Say, do I stand before the king?

KING. You do.

GRAND INQUISITOR. I never thought it would be so again!

KING. I now renew the scenes of early youth, When Philip sought his sage instructor's counsel.

GRAND INQUISITOR. Your glorious sire, my pupil, Charles the Fifth, Nor sought or needed counsel at my hands.

KING. So much happier he! I, cardinal, Am guilty of a murder, and no rest——

GRAND INQUISITOR.

What was the reason for this murder?

KING. 'Twas A fraud unparalleled——

GRAND INQUISITOR. I know it all.

KING. What do you know? Through whom, and since what time?

GRAND INQUISITOR.

For years—what you have only learned since sunset.

KING (with astonishment). You know this man then!

GRAND INQUISITOR. All his life is noted From its commencement to its sudden close, In Santa Casa's holy registers.

KING. Yet he enjoyed his liberty!

GRAND INQUISITOR. The chain With which he struggled, but which held him bound, Though long, was firm, nor easy to be severed.

KING. He has already been beyond the kingdom.

GRAND INQUISITOR. Where'er he travelled I was at his side.

KING (walks backwards and forwards in displeasure). You knew the hands, then, I had fallen into; And yet delayed to warn me!

GRAND INQUISITOR. This rebuke I pay you back. Why did you not consult us Before you sought the arms of such a man? You knew him: one sole glance unmasked him to you. Why did you rob the office of its victim? Are we thus trifled with! When majesty Can stoop to such concealment, and in secret, Behind our backs, league with our enemies, What must our fate be then? If one be spared What plea can justify the fate of thousands?

KING. But he, no less, has fallen a sacrifice.

GRAND INQUISITOR. No; he is murdered—basely, foully murdered. The blood that should so gloriously have flowed To honor us has stained the assassin's hand. What claim had you to touch our sacred rights? He but existed, by our hands to perish. God gave him to this age's exigence, To perish, as a terrible example, And turn high-vaunting reason into shame. Such was my long-laid plan—behold, destroyed In one brief hour, the toil of many years. We are defrauded, and your only gain Is bloody hands.

KING. Passion impelled me to it. Forgive me.

GRAND INQUISITOR. Passion! And does royal Philip Thus answer me? Have I alone grown old? [Shaking his head angrily. Passion! Make conscience free within your realms, If you're a slave yourself.

KING. In things like this I'm but a novice. Bear in patience with me.

GRAND INQUISITOR. No, I'm ill pleased with you—to see you thus Tarnish the bygone glories of your reign. Where is that Philip, whose unchanging soul, Fixed as the polar star in heaven above, Round its own axis still pursued its course? Is all the memory of preceding years Forever gone? And did the world become New moulded when you stretched your hand to him? Was poison no more poison? Did distinction 'Twixt good and evil, truth and falsehood, vanish? What then is resolution? What is firmness? What is the faith of man, if in one weak, Unguarded hour, the rules of threescore years Dissolve in air, like woman's fickle favor?

KING. I looked into his eyes. Oh, pardon me This weak relapse into mortality. The world has one less access to your heart; Your eyes are sunk in night.

GRAND INQUISITOR. What did this man Want with you? What new thing could he adduce, You did not know before? And are you versed So ill with fanatics and innovators? Does the reformer's vaunting language sound So novel to your ears? If the firm edifice Of your conviction totters to mere words, Should you not shudder to subscribe the fate Of many thousand poor, deluded souls Who mount the flaming pile for nothing worse?

KING. I sought a human being. These Domingos——

GRAND INQUISITOR. How! human beings! What are they to you? Cyphers to count withal—no more! Alas! And must I now repeat the elements Of kingly knowledge to my gray-haired pupil? An earthly god must learn to bear the want Of what may be denied him. When you whine For sympathy is not the world your equal? What rights should you possess above your equals?

KING (throwing himself into a chair). I'm a mere suffering mortal, that I feel; And you demand from me, a wretched creature, What the Creator only can perform.

GRAND INQUISITOR. No, sire; I am not thus to be deceived. I see you through. You would escape from us. The church's heavy chains pressed hard upon you; You would be free, and claim your independence. [He pauses. The KING is silent. We are avenged. Be thankful to the church, That checks you with the kindness of a mother. The erring choice you were allowed to make Has proved your punishment. You stand reproved! Now you may turn to us again. And know If I, this day, had not been summoned here, By Heaven above! before to-morrow's sun, You would yourself have stood at my tribunal!

KING. Forbear this language, priest. Restrain thyself. I'll not endure it from thee. In such tones No tongue shall speak to me.

GRAND INQUISITOR. Then why, O king Call up the ghost of Samuel? I've anointed Two monarchs to the throne of Spain. I hoped To leave behind a firm-established work. I see the fruit of all my life is lost. Don Philip's hands have shattered what I built. But tell me, sire, wherefore have I been summoned? What do I hear? I am not minded, king, To seek such interviews again.

KING. But one One service more—the last—and then in peace Depart. Let all the past be now forgotten— Let peace be made between us. We are friends.

GRAND INQUISITOR. When Philip bends with due humility.

KING (after a pause). My son is meditating treason.

GRAND INQUISITOR, Well! And what do you resolve?

KING. On all, or nothing.

GRAND INQUISITOR. What mean you by this all?

KING. He must escape, Or die.

GRAND INQUISITOR. Well, sire! decide.

KING. And can you not Establish some new creed to justify The bloody murder of one's only son?

GRAND INQUISITOR. To appease eternal justice God's own Son Expired upon the cross.

KING. And can you spread This creed throughout all Europe?

GRAND INQUISITOR. Ay, as far As the true cross is worshipped.

KING. But I sin— Sin against nature. Canst thou, by thy power, Silence her mighty voice.

GRAND INQUISITOR. The voice of nature Avails not over faith.

KING. My right to judge I place within your hands. Can I retrace The step once taken?

GRAND INQUISITOR. Give him to me!

KING. My only son! For whom then have I labored?

GRAND INQUISITOR. For the grave rather than for liberty!

KING (rising up). We are agreed. Come with me.

GRAND INQUISITOR. Monarch! Whither

KING. From his own father's hands to take the victim.

[Leads him away.



SCENE XI.

Queen's Apartment.

CARLOS. The QUEEN. Afterwards the KING and attendants. CARLOS in monk's attire, a mask over his face, which he is just taking off; under his arm a naked sword. It is quite dark. He approaches a door, which is in the act of opening. The QUEEN comes out in her night-dress with a lighted candle. CARLOS falls on one knee before her.

CARLOS. Elizabeth!

QUEEN (regarding him with silent sorrow). Do we thus meet again?

CARLOS. 'Tis thus we meet again!

[A silence.

QUEEN (endeavoring to collect herself). Carlos, arise! We must not now unnerve each other thus. The mighty dead will not be honored now By fruitless tears. Tears are for petty sorrows! He gave himself for thee! With his dear life He purchased thine. And shall this precious blood Flow for a mere delusion of the brain? Oh, Carlos, I have pledged myself for thee. On that assurance did he flee from hence More satisfied. Oh, do not falsify My word.

CARLOS (with animation) To him I'll raise a monument Nobler than ever honored proudest monarch, And o'er his dust a paradise shall bloom!

QUEEN. Thus did I hope to find thee! This was still The mighty purpose of his death. On me Devolves the last fulfilment of his plans, And I will now fulfil my solemn oath. Yet one more legacy your dying friend Bequeathed to me. I pledged my word to him, And wherefore should I now conceal it from you? To me did he resign his Carlos—I Defy suspicion, and no longer tremble Before mankind, but will for once assume The courage of a friend; My heart shall speak. He called our passion—virtue! I believe him, And will my heart no longer——

CARLOS. Hold, O queen! Long was I sunk in a delusive dream. I loved, but now I am at last awake Forgotten be the past. Here are your letters,— Destroy my own. Fear nothing from my passion, It is extinct. A brighter flame now burns, And purifies my being. All my love Lies buried in the grave. No mortal wish Finds place within this bosom. [After a pause, taking her hand. I have come To bid farewell to you, and I have learned There is a higher, greater good, my mother, Than to call thee mine own. One rapid night Has winged the tardy progress of my years, And prematurely ripened me to manhood. I have no further business in the world, But to remember him. My harvest now Is ended. [He approaches the QUEEN, who conceals her face. Mother! will you not reply!

QUEEN. Carlos! regard not these my tears. I cannot Restrain then. But believe me I admire you.

CARLOS. Thou wert the only partner of our league And by this name thou shalt remain to me The most beloved object in this world. No other woman can my friendship share, More than she yesterday could win my love. But sacred shall the royal widow be, Should Providence conduct me to the throne.

[The KING, accompanied by the GRAND INQUISITOR, appears in the background without being observed.

I hasten to leave Spain, and never more Shall I behold my father in this world. No more I love him. Nature is extinct Within this breast. Be you again his wife— His son's forever lost to him! Return Back to your course of duty—I must speed To liberate a people long oppressed From a fell tyrant's hand. Madrid shall bail Carlos as king, or ne'er behold him more. And now a long and last farewell——

[He kisses her.

QUEEN. Oh, Carlos! How you exalt me! but I dare not soar To such a height of greatness:—yet I may Contemplate now your noble mind with wonder.

CARLOS. Am I not firm, Elizabeth? I hold thee Thus in my arms and tremble not. The fear Of instant death had, yesterday, not torn me From this dear spot. [He leaves her. All that is over now, And I defy my mortal destinies. I've held thee in these arms and wavered not. Hark! Heard you nothing!

[A clock strikes.

QUEEN. Nothing but the bell That tolls the moment of our separation.

CARLOS. Good night, then, mother! And you shall, from Ghent, Receive a letter, which will first proclaim Our secret enterprise aloud. I go To dare King Philip to an open contest. Henceforth there shall be naught concealed between us! You need not shun the aspect of the world. Be this my last deceit.

[About to take up the mask—the KING stands between them.

KING. It is thy last.

[The QUEEN falls senseless.

CARLOS (hastens to her and supports her in his arms). Is the queen dead? Great heavens!

KING (coolly and quietly to the GRAND INQUISITOR). Lord Cardinal! I've done my part. Go now, and do your own.

[Exit.



DEMETRIUS

By Frederich Schiller



ACT I.

SCENE I.

THE DIET AT CRACOW.

On the rising of the curtain the Polish Diet is discovered, seated in the great senate hall. On a raised platform, elevated by three steps, and surmounted by a canopy, is the imperial throne, the escutcheons of Poland and Lithuania suspended on each side. The KING seated upon the throne; on his right and left hand his ten royal officers standing on the platform. Below the platform the BISHOPS, PALATINES, and CASTELLANS seated on each side of the stage. Opposite to these stand the Provincial DEPUTIES, in a double line, uncovered. All armed. The ARCHBISHOP OF GNESEN, as the primate of the kingdom, is seated next the proscenium; his chaplain behind him, bearing a golden cross.

ARCHBISHOP OF GNESEN. Thus then hath this tempestuous Diet been Conducted safely to a prosperous close; And king and commons part as cordial friends. The nobles have consented to disarm, And straight disband the dangerous Rocoss [1]; Whilst our good king his sacred word has pledged, That every just complaint shall have redress. And now that all is peace at home, we may Look to the things that claim our care abroad. Is it the will of the most high Estates That Prince Demetrius, who hath advanced A claim to Russia's crown, as Ivan's son, Should at their bar appear, and in the face Of this august assembly prove his right?

[1] An insurrectionary muster of the nobles.

CASTELLAN OF CRACOW. Honor and justice both demand he should; It were unseemly to refuse his prayer.

BISHOP OF WERMELAND. The documents on which he rests have been Examined, and are found authentic. We May give him audience.

SEVERAL DEPUTIES. Nay! We must, we must!

LEO SAPIEHA. To hear is to admit his right.

ODOWALSKY. And not To hear is to reject his claims unheard.

ARCHBISHOP OF GNESEN. Is it your will that he have audience? I ask it for the second time—and third.

IMPERIAL CHANCELLOR. Let him stand forth before our throne!

SENATORS. And speak!

DEPUTIES. Yes, yes! Let him be heard!

[The Imperial GRAND MARSHAL beckons with his baton to the doorkeeper, who goes out.

LEO SAPIEHA (to the CHANCELLOR). Write down, my lord, That here I do protest against this step, And all that may ensue therefrom, to mar The peace of Poland's state and Moscow's crown.

[Enters DEMETRIUS. Advances some steps towards the throne, and makes three bows with his head uncovered, first to the KING, next to the SENATORS, and then to the DEPUTIES, who all severally answer with an inclination of the head. He then takes up his position so as to keep within his eye a great portion of the assemblage, and yet not to turn his back upon the throne.

ARCHBISHOP OF GNESEN. Prince Dmitri, son of Ivan! if the pomp Of this great Diet scare thee, or a sight So noble and majestic chain thy tongue, Thou may'st—for this the senate have allowed— Choose thee a proxy, wheresoe'er thou list, And do thy mission by another's lips.

DEMETRIUS. My lord archbishop, I stand here to claim A kingdom, and the state of royalty. 'Twould ill beseem me should I quake before A noble people, and its king and senate. I ne'er have viewed a circle so august, But the sight swells my heart within my breast And not appals me. The more worthy ye, To me ye are more welcome; I can ne'er Address my claim to nobler auditory.

ARCHBISHOP OF GNESEN. . . . . The august republic Is favorably bent. . . . .

DEMETRIUS. Most puissant king! Most worthy and most potent Bishops and palatines, and my good lords, The deputies of the august republic! It gives me pause and wonder to behold Myself, Czar Ivan's son, now stand before The Polish people in their Diet here. Both realms were sundered by a bloody hate, And, whilst my father lived, no peace might be. Yet now hath Heaven so ordered these events, That I, his blood, who with my nurse's milk Imbibed the ancestral hate, appear before you A fugitive, compelled to seek my rights Even here in Poland's heart. Then, ere I speak, Forget magnanimously all rancors past, And that the Czar, whose son I own myself, Rolled war's red billows to your very homes. I stand before you, sirs, a prince despoiled. I ask protection. The oppressed may urge A sacred claim on every noble breast. And who in all earth's circuit shall be just, If not a people great and valiant,—one In plenitude of power so free, it needs To render 'count but to itself alone, And may, unchallenged, lend an open ear And aiding hand to fair humanity.

ARCHBISHOP OF GNESEN. You do allege you are Czar Ivan's son; And truly, nor your bearing nor your speech Gainsays the lofty title that you urge, But shows us that you are indeed his son. And you shall find that the republic bears A generous spirit. She has never quailed To Russia in the field! She loves, alike, To be a noble foe—a cordial friend.

DEMETRIUS. Ivan Wasilowitch, the mighty Czar Of Moscow, took five spouses to his bed, In the long years that spared him to the throne. The first, a lady of the heroic line Of Romanoff, bare him Feodor, who reigned After his father's death. One only son, Dmitri, the last blossom of his strength, And a mere infant when his father died, Was born of Marfa, of Nagori's line. Czar Feodor, a youth, alike effeminate In mind and body, left the reins of power To his chief equerry, Boris Godunow, Who ruled his master with most crafty skill. Feodor was childless, and his barren bride Denied all prospect of an heir. Thus, when The wily Boiar, by his fawning arts, Had coiled himself into the people's favor, His wishes soared as high as to the throne. Between him and his haughty hopes there stood A youthful prince, the young Demetrius Iwanowitsch, who with his mother lived At Uglitsch, where her widowhood was passed. Now, when his fatal purpose was matured, He sent to Uglitsch ruffians, charged to put The Czarowitsch to death. One night, when all was hushed, the castle's wing, Where the young prince, apart from all the rest, With his attendants lay, was found on fire. The raging flames ingulfed the pile; the prince Unseen, unheard, was spirited away, And all the world lamented him as dead. All Moscow knows these things to be the truth.

ARCHBISHOP OF GNESEN. Yes, these are facts familiar to us all. The rumor ran abroad, both far and near, That Prince Demetrius perished in the flames When Uglitsch was destroyed. And, as his death Raised to the throne the Czar who fills it now, Fame did not hesitate to charge on him This murder foul and pitiless. But yet, His death is not the business now in hand! This prince is living still! He lives in you! So runs your plea. Now bring us to the proofs! Whereby do you attest that you are he? What are the signs by which you shall be known? How 'scaped you those were sent to hunt you down And now, when sixteen years are passed, and you Well nigh forgot, emerge to light once more?

DEMETRIUS. 'Tis scarce a year since I have known myself; I lived a secret to myself till then, Surmising naught of my imperial birth. I was a monk with monks, close pent within The cloister's precincts, when I first began To waken to a consciousness of self. My impetuous spirit chafed against the bars, And the high blood of princes began to course In strange unbidden moods along my veins. At length I flung the monkish cowl aside, And fled to Poland, where the noble Prince Of Sendomir, the generous, the good, Took me as guest into his princely house, And trained me up to noble deeds of arms.

ARCHBISHOP OF GNESEN. How? You still ignorant of what you were? Yet ran the rumor then on every side, That Prince Demetrius was still alive. Czar Boris trembled on his throne, and sent His sassafs to the frontiers, to keep Sharp watch on every traveller that stirred. Had not the tale its origin with you? Did you not give the rumor birth yourself? Had you not named to any that you were Demetrius?

DEMETRIUS. I relate that which I know. If a report went forth I was alive, Then had some god been busy with the fame. Myself I knew not. In the prince's house, And in the throng of his retainers lost, I spent the pleasant springtime of my youth. In silent homage My heart was vowed to his most lovely daughter. Yet in those days it never dreamed to raise Its wildest thoughts to happiness so high. My passion gave offence to her betrothed, The Castellan of Lemberg. He with taunts Chafed me, and in the blindness of his rage Forgot himself so wholly as to strike me. Thus savagely provoked, I drew my sword; He, blind with fury, rushed upon the blade, And perished there by my unwitting hand.

MEISCHEK. Yes, it was even so.

DEMETRIUS. Mine was the worst mischance! A nameless youth, A Russian and a stranger, I had slain A grandee of the empire—in the house Of my kind patron done a deed of blood, And sent to death his son-in-law and friend. My innocence availed not; not the pity Of all his household, nor his kindness—his, The noble Palatine's,—could save my life; For it was forfeit to the law, that is, Though lenient to the Poles, to strangers stern. Judgment was passed on me—that judgment death. I knelt upon the scaffold, by the block; To the fell headsman's sword I bared my throat, And in the act disclosed a cross of gold, Studded with precious gems, which had been hung About my neck at the baptismal font. This sacred pledge of Christian redemption I had, as is the custom of my people, Worn on my neck concealed, where'er I went, From my first hours of infancy; and now, When from sweet life I was compelled to part, I grasped it as my only stay, and pressed it With passionate devotion to my lips.

[The Poles intimate their sympathy by dumb show.

The jewel was observed; its sheen and worth Awakened curiosity and wonder. They set me free, and questioned me; yet still I could not call to memory a time I had not worn the jewel on my person. Now it so happened that three Boiars who Had fled from the resentment of their Czar Were on a visit to my lord at Sambor. They saw the trinket,—recognized it by Nine emeralds alternately inlaid With amethysts, to be the very cross Which Ivan Westislowsky at the font Hung on the neck of the Czar's youngest son. They scrutinized me closer, and were struck To find me marked with one of nature's freaks, For my right arm is shorter than my left. Now, being closely plied with questions, I Bethought me of a little psalter which I carried from the cloister when I fled. Within this book were certain words in Greek Inscribed there by the Igumen himself. What they imported was unknown to me, Being ignorant of the language. Well, the psalter Was sent for, brought, and the inscription read. It bore that Brother Wasili Philaret (Such was my cloister-name), who owned the book, Was Prince Demetrius, Ivan's youngest son, By Andrei, an honest Diak, saved By stealth in that red night of massacre. Proofs of the fact lay carefully preserved Within two convents, which were pointed out. On this the Boiars at my feet fell down, Won by the force of these resistless proofs, And hailed me as the offspring of their Czar. So from the yawning gulfs of black despair Fate raised me up to fortune's topmost heights. And now the mists cleared off, and all at once Memories on memories started into life In the remotest background of the past. And like some city's spires that gleam afar In golden sunshine when naught else is seen, So in my soul two images grew bright, The loftiest sun-peaks in the shadowy past. I saw myself escaping one dark night, And a red lurid flame light up the gloom Of midnight darkness as I looked behind me A memory 'twas of very earliest youth, For what preceded or came after it In the long distance utterly was lost. In solitary brightness there it stood A ghastly beacon-light on memory's waste. Yet I remembered how, in later years, One of my comrades called me, in his wrath Son of the Czar. I took it as a jest, And with a blow avenged it at the time. All this now flashed like lightning on my soul, And told with dazzling certainty that I Was the Czar's son, so long reputed dead. With this one word the clouds that had perplexed My strange and troubled life were cleared away. Nor merely by these signs, for such deceive; But in my soul, in my proud, throbbing heart I felt within me coursed the blood of kings; And sooner will I drain it drop by drop Than bate one jot my title to the crown.

ARCHBISHOP OF GNESEN. And shall we trust a scroll which might have found Its way by merest chance into your hands Backed by the tale of some poor renegades? Forgive me, noble youth! Your tone, I grant, And bearing, are not those of one who lies; Still you in this may be yourself deceived. Well may the heart be pardoned that beguiles Itself in playing for so high a stake. What hostage do you tender for your word?

DEMETRIUS. I tender fifty, who will give their oaths,— All Piasts to a man, and free-born Poles Of spotless reputation,—each of whom Is ready to enforce what I have urged. There sits the noble Prince of Sendomir, And at his side the Castellan of Lublin; Let them declare if I have spoke the truth.

ARCHBISHOP OF GNESEN. How seem these things to the august Estates? To the enforcement of such numerous proofs Doubt and mistrust, methinks, must needs give way. Long has a creeping rumor filled the world That Dmitri, Ivan's son, is still alive. The Czar himself confirms it by his fears. —Before us stands a youth, in age and mien Even to the very freak that nature played, The lost heir's counterpart, and of a soul Whose noble stamp keeps rank with his high claims. He left a cloister's precincts, urged by strange, Mysterious promptings; and this monk-trained boy Was straight distinguished for his knightly feats. He shows a trinket which the Czarowitsch Once wore, and one that never left his side; A written witness, too, by pious hands, Gives us assurance of his princely birth; And, stronger still, from his unvarnished speech And open brow truth makes his best appeal. Such traits as these deceit doth never don; It masks its subtle soul in vaunting words, And in the high-glossed ornaments of speech. No longer, then, can I withhold the title Which he with circumstance and justice claims And, in the exercise of my old right, I now, as primate, give him the first voice.