Chapter III: Act II: Scene I (2)

ALVA. What do you say! Can I have heard aright? By Heaven! I'm all amazement. Compass this, And I'll bow down to thee, Dominican! The day's our own.

DOMINGO. Soft! Some one comes: 'tis she-- 'Tis she herself!

ALVA. I'm in the adjoining room If you should----

DOMINGO.
Be it so: I'll call you in.

[Exit ALVA.

SCENE XI.

PRINCESS, DOMINGO.

DOMINGO. At your command, princess.

PRINCESS.
We are perhaps
Not quite alone?
[Looking inquisitively after the DUKE.
You have, as I observe,
A witness still by you.

DOMINGO.
How?

PRINCESS. Who was he, That left your side but now?

DOMINGO. It was Duke ALVA. Most gracious princess, he requests you will Admit him to an audience after me.

PRINCESS. Duke Alva! How? What can he want with me? You can, perhaps, inform me?

DOMINGO. I?--and that Before I learn to what important chance I owe the favor, long denied, to stand Before the Princess Eboli once more? [Pauses awaiting her answer. Has any circumstance occurred at last To favor the king's wishes? Have my hopes Been not in vain, that more deliberate thought Would reconcile you to an offer which Caprice alone and waywardness could spurn? I seek your presence full of expectation----

PRINCESS. Was my last answer to the king conveyed?

DOMINGO. I have delayed to inflict this mortal wound. There still is time, it rests with you, princess, To mitigate its rigor.

PRINCESS. Tell the king That I expect him.

DOMINGO. May I, lovely princess, Indeed accept this as your true reply?

PRINCESS. I do not jest. By heaven, you make me tremble What have I done to make e'en you grow pale?

DOMINGO. Nay, lady, this surprise--so sudden--I Can scarcely comprehend it.

PRINCESS. Reverend sir! You shall not comprehend it. Not for all The world would I you comprehended it. Enough for you it is so--spare yourself The trouble to investigate in thought, Whose eloquence hath wrought this wondrous change. But for your comfort let me add, you have No hand in this misdeed,--nor has the church. Although you've proved that cases might arise Wherein the church, to gain some noble end, Might use the persons of her youthful daughters! Such reasonings move not me; such motives, pure, Right reverend sir, are far too high for me.

DOMINGO. When they become superfluous, your grace, I willingly retract them.

PRINCESS. Seek the king, And ask him as from me, that he will not Mistake me in this business. What I have been That am I still. 'Tis but the course of things Has changed. When I in anger spurned his suit, I deemed him truly happy in possessing Earth's fairest queen. I thought his faithful wife Deserved my sacrifice. I thought so then, But now I'm undeceived.

DOMINGO. Princess, go on! I hear it all--we understand each other.

PRINCESS. Enough. She is found out. I will not spare her. The hypocrite's unmasked!--She has deceived The king, all Spain, and me. She loves, I know She loves! I can bring proofs that will make you tremble. The king has been deceived--but he shall not, By heaven, go unrevenged! The saintly mask Of pure and superhuman self-denial I'll tear from her deceitful brow, that all May see the forehead of the shameless sinner. 'Twill cost me dear, but here my triumph lies, That it will cost her infinitely more.

DOMINGO. Now all is ripe, let me call in the duke.

[Goes out.

PRINCESS (astonished). What means all this?

SCENE XII.

The PRINCESS, DUKE ALVA, DOMINGO.

DOMINGO (leading the DUKE in). Our tidings, good my lord, Come somewhat late. The Princess Eboli Reveals to us a secret we had meant Ourselves to impart to her.

ALVA. My visit, then, Will not so much surprise her, but I never Trust my own eyes in these discoveries. They need a woman's more discerning glance.

PRINCESS. Discoveries! How mean you?

DOMINGO. Would we knew What place and fitter season you----

PRINCESS. Just So! To-morrow noon I will expect you both. Reasons I have why this clandestine guilt Should from the king no longer be concealed.

ALVA. 'Tis this that brings us here. The king must know it. And he shall hear the news from you, princess, From you alone:--for to what tongue would he Afford such ready credence as to yours, Friend and companion ever of his spouse?

DOMINGO. As yours, who more than any one at will Can o'er him exercise supreme command.

ALVA. I am the prince's open enemy.

DOMINGO. And that is what the world believes of me. The Princess Eboli's above suspicion. We are compelled to silence, but your duty, The duty of your office, calls on you To speak. The king shall not escape our hands. Let your hints rouse him, we'll complete the work.

ALVA. It must be done at once, without delay; Each moment now is precious. In an hour The order may arrive for my departure.

DOMINGO (after a short pause, turns to the PRINCESS). Cannot some letters be discovered? Truly, An intercepted letter from the prince Would work with rare effect. Ay! let me see-- Is it not so? You sleep, princess, I think, In the same chamber with her majesty?

PRINCESS. The next to hers. But of what use is that?

DOMINGO. Oh, for some skill in locks! Have you observed Where she is wont to keep her casket key?

PRINCESS (in thought). Yes, that might lead to something; yes, I think The key is to be found.

DOMINGO. Letters, you know, Need messengers. Her retinue is large; Who do you think could put us on the scent? Gold can do much.

ALVA. Can no one tell us whether The prince has any trusty confidant?

DOMINGO. Not one; in all Madrid not one.

ALVA.
That's strange!

DOMINGO. Rely on me in this. He holds in scorn The universal court. I have my proofs.

ALVA. Stay! It occurs to me, as I was leaving The queen's apartments, I beheld the prince In private conference with a page of hers.

PRINCESS (suddenly interrupting). O no! that must have been of something else.

DOMINGO. Could we not ascertain the fact? It seems Suspicious. [To the DUKE. Did you know the page, my lord!

PRINCESS. Some trifle; what else could it be? Enough, I'm sure of that. So we shall meet again Before I see the king; and by that time We may discover much.

DOMINGO (leading her aside). What of the king? Say, may he hope? May I assure him so? And the entrancing hour which shall fulfil His fond desires, what shall I say of that?

PRINCESS. In a few days I will feign sickness, and Shall be excused from waiting on the queen. Such is, you know, the custom of the court, And I may then remain in my apartment.

DOMINGO. 'Tis well devised! Now the great game is won, And we may bid defiance to all queens!

PRINCESS. Hark! I am called. I must attend the queen, So fare you well. [Exit.

SCENE XIII.

ALVA and DOMINGO.

DOMINGO (after a pause, during which he has watched the PRINCESS). My lord! these roses, and-- Your battles----

ALVA. And your god!--why, even so Thus we'll await the lightning that will scathe us!

[Exeunt.

SCENE XIV.

A Carthusian Convent.
DON CARLOS and the PRIOR.

CARLOS (to the PRIOR, as he comes in). Been here already? I am sorry for it.

PRIOR. Yes, thrice since morning. 'Tis about an hour Since he went hence.

CARLOS. But he will sure return. Has he not left some message?

PRIOR. Yes; he promised To come again at noon.

CARLOS (going to a window, and looking round the country). Your convent lies Far from the public road. Yonder are seen The turrets of Madrid--just so--and there The Mansanares flows. The scenery is Exactly to my wish, and all around Is calm and still as secrecy itself.

PRIOR. Or as the entrance to another world.

CARLOS. Most worthy sir, to your fidelity And honor, have I now intrusted all I hold most dear and sacred in the world. No mortal man must know, or even suspect, With whom I here hold secret assignation. Most weighty reasons prompt me to deny, To all the world, the friend whom I expect, Therefore I choose this convent. Are we safe From traitors and surprise? You recollect What you have sworn.

PRIOR. Good sir, rely on us. A king's suspicion cannot pierce the grave, And curious ears haunts only those resorts Where wealth and passion dwell--but from these walls The world's forever banished.

CARLOS. You may think, Perhaps, beneath this seeming fear and caution There lies a guilty conscience?

PRIOR.
I think nothing.

CARLOS. If you imagine this, most holy father, You err--indeed you err. My secret shuns The sight of man--but not the eye of God.

PRIOR. Such things concern us little. This retreat To guilt, and innocence alike, is open, And whether thy designs be good or ill, Thy purpose criminal or virtuous,--that We leave to thee to settle with thy heart.

CARLOS (with warmth). Our purpose never can disgrace your God. 'Tis his own noblest work. To you indeed, I may reveal it.

PRIOR. To what end, I pray? Forego, dear prince, this needless explanation. The world and all its troubles have been long Shut from my thoughts--in preparation for My last long journey. Why recall them to me For the brief space that must precede my death? 'Tis little for salvation that we need-- But the bell rings, and summons me to prayer.

[Exit PRIOR.

SCENE XV.

DON CARLOS; the MARQUIS POSA enters.

CARLOS. At length once more,--at length----

MARQUIS. Oh, what a trial For the impatience of a friend! The sun Has risen twice--twice set--since Carlos' fate Has been resolved, and am I only now To learn it: speak,--you're reconciled!

CARLOS.
With whom?

MARQUIS. The king! And Flanders, too,--its fate is settled!

CARLOS. The duke sets out to-morrow. That is fixed.

MARQUIS. That cannot be--it is not surely so. Can all Madrid be so deceived? 'Tis said You had a private audience, and the king----

CARLOS. Remained inflexible, and we are now Divided more than ever.

MARQUIS. Do you go To Flanders?

CARLOS.
No!

MARQUIS.
Alas! my blighted hopes!

CARLOS. Of this hereafter. Oh, Roderigo! since We parted last, what have I not endured? But first thy counsel? I must speak with her!

MARQUIS. Your mother? No! But wherefore?

CARLOS. I have hopes-- But you turn pale! Be calm--I should be happy. And I shall be so: but of this anon-- Advise me now, how I may speak with her.

MARQUIS. What mean you? What new feverish dream is this?

CARLOS. By the great God of wonders 'tis no dream! 'Tis truth, reality---- [Taking out the KING's letter to the PRINCESS EBOLI. Contained in this Important paper--yes, the queen is free,-- Free before men and in the eyes of heaven; There read, and cease to wonder at my words.

MARQUIS (opening the letter). What do I here behold? The king's own hand! [After he has read it. To whom addressed?

CARLOS. To Princess Eboli. Two days ago, a page who serves the queen, Brought me, from unknown hands, a key and letter, Which said that in the left wing of the palace, Where the queen lodges, lay a cabinet,-- That there a lady whom I long had loved Awaited me. I straight obeyed the summons.

MARQUIS. Fool! madman! you obeyed it----

CARLOS. Not that I The writing knew; but there was only one Such woman, who could think herself adored By Carlos. With delight intoxicate I hastened to the spot. A heavenly song, Re-echoing from the innermost apartment, Served me for guide. I reached the cabinet-- I entered and beheld--conceive my wonder!

MARQUIS. I guess it all----

CARLOS. I had been lost forever, But that I fell into an angel's hands! She, hapless chance, by my imprudent looks, Deceived, had yielded to the sweet delusion And deemed herself the idol of my soul. Moved by the silent anguish of my breast, With thoughtless generosity, her heart Nobly determined to return my love; Deeming respectful fear had caused my silence, She dared to speak, and all her lovely soul Laid bare before me.

MARQUIS. And with calm composure, You tell this tale! The Princess Eboli Saw through your heart; and doubtless she has pierced The inmost secret of your hidden love. You've wronged her deeply, and she rules the king.

CARLOS (confidently). But she is virtuous!

MARQUIS. She may be so From love's mere selfishness. But much I fear Such virtue--well I know it: know how little It hath the power to soar to that ideal, Which, first conceived in sweet and stately grace, From the pure soul's maternal soil, puts forth Spontaneous shoots, nor asks the gardener's aid To nurse its lavish blossoms into life. 'Tis but a foreign plant, with labor reared, And warmth that poorly imitates the south, In a cold soil and an unfriendly clime. Call it what name you will--or education, Or principle, or artificial virtue Won from the heat of youth by art and cunning, In conflicts manifold--all noted down With scrupulous reckoning to that heaven's account, Which is its aim, and will requite its pains. Ask your own heart! Can she forgive the queen That you should scorn her dearly-purchased virtue, To pine in hopeless love for Philip's wife.

CARLOS. Knowest thou the princess, then, so well?

MARQUIS. Not I-- I've scarcely seen her twice. And yet thus much I may remark. To me she still appears To shun alone the nakedness of vice, Too weakly proud of her imagined virtue. And then I mark the queen. How different, Carlos, Is everything that I behold in her! In native dignity, serene and calm, Wearing a careless cheerfulness--unschooled In all the trained restraints of conduct, far Removed from boldness and timidity, With firm, heroic step, she walks along The narrow middle path of rectitude, Unconscious of the worship she compels, Where she of self-approval never dreamed. Say, does my Carlos in this mirror trace The features of his Eboli? The princess Was constant while she loved; love was the price, The understood condition of her virtue. You failed to pay that price--'twill therefore fall.

CARLOS (with warmth). No, no! [Hastily pacing the apartment. I tell thee, no! And, Roderigo, Ill it becomes thee thus to rob thy Carlos Of his high trust in human excellence, His chief, his dearest joy!

MARQUIS. Deserve I this? Friend of my soul, this would I never do-- By heaven I would not. Oh, this Eboli! She were an angel to me, and before Her glory would I bend me prostrate down, In reverence deep as thine, if she were not The mistress of thy secret.

CARLOS. See how vain, How idle are thy fears! What proofs has she That will not stamp her maiden brow with shame? Say, will she purchase with her own dishonor The wretched satisfaction of revenge?

MARQUIS. Ay! to recall a blush, full many a one Has doomed herself to infamy.

CARLOS (with increased vehemence). Nay, that Is far too harsh--and cruel! She is proud And noble; well I know her, and fear nothing. Vain are your efforts to alarm my hopes. I must speak to my mother.

MARQUIS.
Now? for what?

CARLOS. Because I've nothing more to care for now. And I must know my fate. Only contrive That I may speak with her.

MARQUIS. And wilt thou show This letter to her?

CARLOS. Question me no more, But quickly find the means that I may see her.

MARQUIS (significantly). Didst thou not tell me that thou lov'st thy mother? And wouldst thou really show this letter to her?

[CARLOS fixes his eyes on the ground, and remains silent.

I read a something, Carlos, in thy looks Unknown to me before. Thou turn'st thine eyes Away from me. Then it is true, and have I Judged thee aright? Here, let me see that paper.

[CARLOS gives him the letter, and the MARQUIS tears it.

CARLOS. What! art thou mad? [Moderating his warmth. In truth--I must confess it, That letter was of deepest moment to me.

MARQUIS. So it appeared: on that account I tore it.

[The MARQUIS casts a penetrating look on the PRINCE,
who surveys him with doubt and surprise. A long silence.

Now speak to me with candor, Carlos. What Have desecrations of the royal bed To do with thee--thy love? Dost thou fear Philip? How are a husband's violated duties Allied with thee and thy audacious hopes? Has he sinned there, where thou hast placed thy love? Now then, in truth, I learn to comprehend thee-- How ill till now I've understood thy love!

CARLOS. What dost thou think, Roderigo?

MARQUIS. Oh, I feel From what it is that I must wean myself. Once it was otherwise! Yes, once thy soul Was bounteous, rich, and warm, and there was room For a whole world in thy expanded heart. Those feelings are extinct--all swallowed up In one poor, petty, selfish passion. Now Thy heart is withered, dead! No tears last thou For the unhappy fate of wretched Flanders-- No, not another tear. Oh, Carlos! see How poor, how beggarly, thou hast become, Since all thy love has centered in thyself!

CARLOS (flings himself into a chair. After a pause, with scarcely suppressed tears). Too well I know thou lovest me no more!

MARQUIS. Not so, my Carlos. Well I understand This fiery passion: 'tis the misdirection Of feelings pure and noble in themselves. The queen belonged to thee: the king, thy father, Despoiled thee of her--yet till now thou hast Been modestly distrustful of thy claims. Philip, perhaps, was worthy of her! Thou Scarce dared to breathe his sentence in a whisper-- This letter has resolved thy doubts, and proved Thou art the worthier man. With haughty joy Thou saw'st before thee rise the doom that waits On tyranny convicted of a theft, But thou wert proud to be the injured one: Wrongs undeserved great souls can calmly suffer, Yet here thy fancy played thee false: thy pride Was touched with satisfaction, and thy heart Allowed itself to hope: I plainly saw This time, at least, thou didst not know thyself.

CARLOS (with emotion). Thou'rt wrong, Roderigo; for my thoughts were far Less noble than thy goodness would persuade me.

MARQUIS. And am I then e'en here so little known? See, Carlos, when thou errest, 'tis my way, Amid a hundred virtues, still to find That one to which I may impute thy fall. Now, then, we understand each other better, And thou shalt have an audience of the queen.

CARLOS (falling on his neck). Oh, how I blush beside thee!

MARQUIS. Take my word, And leave the rest to me. A wild, bold thought, A happy thought is dawning in my mind; And thou shalt hear it from a fairer mouth, I hasten to the queen. Perhaps to-morrow Thy wish may be achieved. Till then, my Carlos, Forget not this--"That a design conceived Of lofty reason, which involves the fate, The sufferings of mankind, though it be baffled Ten thousand times, should never be abandoned." Dost hear? Remember Flanders.

CARLOS. Yes! all, all That thou and virtue bid me not forget.

MARQUIS (going to a window). The time is up--I hear thy suite approaching. [They embrace. Crown prince again, and the vassal.

CARLOS. Dost thou go Straight to Madrid?

MARQUIS. Yes, straight.

CARLOS. Hold! one word more. How nearly it escaped me! Yet 'twas news Of deep importance. "Every letter now Sent to Brabant is opened by the king!" So be upon thy guard. The royal post Has secret orders.

MARQUIS.
How have you learned this?

CARLOS. Don Raymond Taxis is my trusty friend.

MARQUIS (after a pause). Well! then they may be sent through Germany.

[Exeunt on different sides.