CARLOS.
And now one other favor let me beg.
Do call me thou! Long have I envied this
Dear privilege of friendship to thine equals.
The brother's thou beguiles my ear, my heart,
With sweet suggestions of equality.
Nay, no reply:-I guess what thou wouldst say-
To thee this seems a trifle-but to me,
A monarch's son, 'tis much. Say, wilt thou be
A brother to me?
MARQUIS.
Yes; thy brother, yes!
CARLOS.
Now to the king-my fears are at an end.
Thus, arm-in-arm with thee, I dare defy
The universal world into the lists.
[Exeunt.
ACT II.
SCENE I.
The royal palace at Madrid.
KING PHILIP under a canopy; DUKE ALVA at some distance,
with his head covered; CARLOS.
CARLOS.
The kingdom takes precedence-willingly
Doth Carlos to the minister give place-
He speaks for Spain; I am but of the household.
[Bows and steps backward.
KING.
The duke remains-the Infanta may proceed.
CARLOS (turning to ALVA).
Then must I put it to your honor, sir,
To yield my father for a while to me.
A son, you know, may to a father's ear
Unbosom much, in fulness of his heart,
That not befits a stranger's ear. The king
Shall not be taken from you, sir-I seek
The father only for one little hour.
KING.
Here stands his friend.
CARLOS.
And have I e'er deserved
To think the duke should be a friend of mine?
KING.
Or tried to make him one? I scarce can love
Those sons who choose more wisely than their fathers.
CARLOS.
And can Duke Alva's knightly spirit brook
To look on such a scene? Now, as I live,
I would not play the busy meddler's part,
Who thrusts himself, unasked, 'twixt sire and son,
And there intrudes without a blush, condemned
By his own conscious insignificance,
No, not, by heaven, to win a diadem!
KING (rising, with an angry look at the Prince).
Retire, my lord!
[ALVA goes to the principal door, through which CARLOS
had entered, the KING points to the other.
No, to the cabinet,
Until I call you.
SCENE II.
KING PHILIP. DON CARLOS.
CARLOS (as soon as the DUKE has left the apartment, advances to the KING,
throws himself at his feet, and then, with great emotion).
My father once again!
Thanks, endless thanks, for this unwonted favor!
Your hand, my father! O delightful day!
The rapture of this kiss has long been strange
To your poor Carlos. Wherefore have I been
Shut from my father's heart? What have I done?
KING.
Carlos, thou art a novice in these arts-
Forbear, I like them not--
CARLOS (rising).
And is it so?
I hear your courtiers in those words, my father!
All is not well, by heaven, all is not true,
That a priest says, and a priest's creatures plot.
I am not wicked, father; ardent blood
Is all my failing;-all my crime is youth;-
Wicked I am not-no, in truth, not wicked;-
Though many an impulse wild assails my heart,
Yet is it still untainted.
KING.
Ay, 'tis pure-
I know it-like thy prayers--
CARLOS.
Now, then, or never!
We are, for once, alone-the barrier
Of courtly form, that severed sire and son
Has fallen! Now a golden ray of hope
Illumes my soul-a sweet presentment
Pervades my heart-and heaven itself inclines,
With choirs of joyous angels, to the earth,
And full of soft emotion, the thrice blest
Looks down upon this great, this glorious scene!
Pardon, my father!
[He falls on his knees before him.
KING.
Rise, and leave me.
CARLOS.
Father!
KING (tearing himself from him).
This trifling grows too bold.
CARLOS.
A son's devotion
Too bold! Alas!
KING.
And, to crown all, in tears!
Degraded boy! Away, and quit my sight!
CARLOS.
Now, then, or never!-pardon, O my father!
KING.
Away, and leave my sight! Return to me
Disgraced, defeated, from the battle-field,
Thy sire shall meet thee with extended arms:
But thus in tears, I spurn thee from my feet.
A coward's guilt alone should wash its stains
In such ignoble streams. The man who weeps
Without a blush will ne'er want cause for tears!
CARLOS.
Who is this man? By what mistake of nature
Has he thus strayed amongst mankind? A tear
Is man's unerring, lasting attribute.
Whose eye is dry was ne'er of woman born!
Oh, teach the eye that ne'er hath overflowed,
The timely science of a tear-thou'lt need
The moist relief in some dark hour of woo.
KING.
Think'st thou to shake thy father's strong mistrust
With specious words?
CARLOS.
Mistrust! Then I'll remove it.
Here will I hang upon my father's breast,
Strain at his heart with vigor, till each shred
Of that mistrust, which, with a rock's endurance,
Clings firmly round it, piecemeal fall away.
And who are they who drive me from the king-
My father's favor? What requital hath
A monk to give a father for a son?
What compensation can the duke supply
For a deserted and a childless age?
Would'st thou be loved? Here in this bosom springs
A fresher, purer fountain, than e'er flowed
From those dark, stagnant, muddy reservoirs,
Which Philip's gold must first unlock.
KING.
No more,
Presuming boy! For know the hearts thou slanderest
Are the approved, true servants of my choice.
'Tis meet that thou do honor to them.
CARLOS.
Never!
I know my worth-all that your Alva dares-
That, and much more, can Carlos. What cares he,
A hireling! for the welfare of the realm
That never can be his? What careth he
If Philip's hair grow gray with hoary age?
Your Carlos would have loved you:-Oh, I dread
To think that you the royal throne must fill
Deserted and alone.
KING (seemingly struck by this idea, stands in deep thought; after
a pause).
I am alone!
CARLOS (approaching him with eagerness).
You have been so till now. Hate me no more,
And I will love you dearly as a son:
But hate me now no longer! Oh, how sweet,
Divinely sweet it is to feel our being
Reflected in another's beauteous soul;
To see our joys gladden another's cheek,
Our pains bring anguish to another's bosom,
Our sorrows fill another's eye with tears!
How sweet, how glorious is it, hand in hand,