have you eyes, and can you
disobey?
Thomas Otway
Thy traitorous design's now come to light,
Too great and horrid to be hid in night.
See here my honour, and thy duty's stains! [_Shows the despatches. _
I've paid your secretary for his pains;
He waits you there: to council with him go; [_Shows_ POSA'S _body_.
Ask what intelligence from Flanders now.
_Don Car. _ My friend here slain, my faithful Posa 'tis.
Good Heaven! what have I done to merit this?
What temples sacked, what desolations made,
To pull down such a vengeance on my head?
This, villain, was thy work: what friend of thine [_To_ RUY-GOMEZ.
Did I e'er wrong, that thou shouldst murder mine?
But I'll take care it shall not want reward--[_Draws. _
_King. _ Courage, my Gomez, since thy king's thy guard.
Come, rebel, and thy villanies fulfil!
_Don Car_. No; though unjust, you are my father still;
[_Throws away his sword. _
And from that title must your safety own:
'Tis that which awes my hand, and not your crown.
'Tis true, all there contained I had designed:
To such a height your jealousy was grown,
It was the only way that I could find
To work your peace, and to procure my own.
_King. _ Thinking my youth and vigour to decrease,
You'd ease me of my crown to give me peace.
_Don Car. _ Alas! you fetch your misconstructions far:
The injuries to me, and wrongs to her,
Were much too great for empire to repair.
When you forgot a father's love, and quite
Deprived me of a son's and prince's right,
Branded my honour, and pursued my life,
My duty long with nature was at strife.
Not that I feared my memory or name
Could suffer by the voice of common fame;
A thing I still esteemed beneath my pride:
For, though condemned by all the world beside,
Had you but thought me just, I could have died.
At last this only way I found, to fly
Your anger, and divert your jealousy:--
To go to Flanders, and be so removed
From all I ever honoured, ever loved;
There in your right hoping I might complete,
Spite of my wrongs, some action truly great;
Thus by my faith and sufferings to out-wear
Your hate, and shun that storm which threatened here.
_Queen. _ And can this merit hate? He would forego
The joys and charms of courts to purchase you;
Banish himself, and stem the dangerous tide
Of lawless outrage and rebellious pride.
_King. _ How evenly she pleads in his defence!
So blind is guilt when 'twould seem innocence.
She thinks her softness may my rage disarm.
No, sorceress, you're mistaken in your charm,
And, whilst you soothe, do but assist the storm!
Do, take full view of your tall able slave;
[QUEEN _looks on_ Don CARLOS.
Look hard; it is the last you're like to have.
_Don Car. _ My life or death are in your power to give.
_King. _ Yes, and thou diest.
_Don Car. _ Not till she give me leave:
She is the star that rules my destiny;
And, whilst her aspect's kind, I cannot die.
_Queen. _ No, prince, for ever live, be ever blest.
_King. _ Yes, I will send him to his eternal rest.
Oh! had I took the journey long ago,
I ne'er had known the pains that rack me now.
_Queen. _ What pains? what racks? [_Approaching. _
_King. _ Avoid, and touch me not!
I see thee foul, all one incestuous blot;
Thy broken vows are in thy guilty face.
_Queen. _ Have I then in your pity left no place?
_King. _ Oh! thus it was you drew me in before,
With promises you ne'er would see him more.
But now your subtlest wiles too weak are grown;
I've gotten freedom, and I'll keep my own.
_Queen. _ May you be ever free! But can your mind
Conceive that any ill was here designed?
He hither came, only that he might show
Obedience, and be reconciled to you.
You saw his humble, dutiful address.
_King. _ But you beforehand signed the happy peace.
_Re-enter_ Duchess of EBOLI.
O princess, thank you for the care you take.
Tell me, how got this monster entrance? speak.
_D. of Eboli. _ Heaven witness 'twas without my knowledge done.
_Ruy-Gom. _ No, she had other business of her own.
[_Aside. _
O blood and murder!
_King. _ All are false: a guard!
_Enter_ Guard.
Seize on that traitor! [_Pointing to_ Don CARLOS.
_Don Car. _ Welcome; I'm prepared.
_Queen. _ Stay, sir, let me die too: I can obey.
_King. _ No, thou shalt live. [_Seemingly kind. _] By Heaven, but
not a day! [_Aside. _
I a revenge so exquisite have framed,
She unrepenting dies, and so she's damned.
_Hen. _ If ever pity could your heart engage,
If e'er you hope for blessings on your age,
Incline your ears to a poor virgin's prayer!
_King. _ I dare not venture thee, thou art too fair.
What wouldst thou say?
_Hen. _ Destroy not in one man
More virtue than the world can boast again.
View him the eldest pledge of your first love,
Your virgin joys; that may some pity move--
_King. _ No; for the wrongs I suffer weigh it down:
I'd now not spare his life to save my own.
Away! by thy soft tongue I'll not be caught.
_Hen. _ By all that hopes can frame I beg: if not,
May you by some base hand unpitied die,
And childless mothers curse your memory!
By honour, love, by life--
_King. _ Fond girl, away:
By Heaven, I'll kill thee else! Still darest thou stay?
Cannot death terrify thee?
_Hen. _ No; for I,
If you refuse me, am resolved to die.
_Don Car. _ Kind fair one, do not waste your sorrows here
On me, too wretched, and not worth a tear.
There yet for you are mighty joys in store,
When I in dust am laid, and seen no more. --
O madam! [_To the_ QUEEN.
_Queen. _ O my Carlos! must you die
For me? no mercy in a father's eye?
_Don Car. _ Hide, hide your tears, into my soul they dart
A tenderness that misbecomes my heart:
For, since I must, I like a prince would fall,
And to my aid my manly spirits call.
_Queen. _ You, like a man, as roughly as you will
May die, but let me be a woman still! [_Weeps. _
_King. _ Thou'rt woman, a true copy of the first,
In whom the race of all mankind was cursed.
Your sex by beauty was to Heaven allied;
But your great lord, the devil, taught you pride.
He too an angel, till he durst rebel;
And you are, sure, the stars that with him fell.
Weep on! a stock of tears like vows you have,
And always ready when you would deceive.
_Queen. _ Cruel! inhuman! O my heart! why should
I throw away a title that's so good,
On one a stranger to whate'er was so?
Alas, I'm torn, and know not what to do.
The just resentment of my wrong's so great,
My spirits sink beneath the heavy weight.
Tyrant, stand off! I hate thee, and will try
If I have scorn enough to make me die.
_Don Car. _ Blest angel, stay! [_Takes her in his arms. _
_Queen. _ Carlos, the sole embrace
You ever took, you have before his face.
_Don Car. _ No wealthy monarch of the plenteous East,
In all the glories of his empire dressed,
Was ever half so rich, or half so blest.
But from such bliss how wretched is the fall!
They too like us must die, and leave it all.
_King. _ All this before my face! what soul could bear't?
Go, force her from him! [Officer _approaches_.
_Don Car. _ Slave, 'twill cost thy heart.
Thou'dst better meet a lion on his way,
And from his hungry jaws reprize the prey!
She's mistress of my soul, and to prepare
Myself for death, I must consult with her.
_Ruy-Gom. _ Have pity! [_Ironically. _
_King. _ Hence! how wretchedly he rules
That's served by cowards, and advised by fools!
Oh, torture!
_Don Car. _ Rouse, my soul! consider now
That to thy blissful mansion thou must go.
But I so mighty joys have tasted here,
I hardly shall have sense of any there:
Oh, soft as blossoms, and yet sweeter far! [_Leaning on her bosom. _
Sweeter than incense which to Heaven ascends,
Though 'tis presented there by angels' hands.
_King. _ Still in his arms! Cowards, go tear her forth!
_Don Car. _ You'll sooner from its centre shake the earth:
I'll hold her fast till my last hour is nigh;
Then I'll bequeath her to you when I die.
_King. _ Cut off his hold! or any thing--
_Don Car. _ Ay, come;
Here kill, and bear me hence into my tomb.
I'd have my monument erected here,
With broken mangled limbs still clasping her.
_Queen. _ Hold, and I'll quit his arms--
[_The_ Guards _offer their axes. They part. _
_King. _ Now bear him hence.
_Queen. _ O horrid tyrant! [Guards _are hurrying_ Don CARLOS _off_.
Stay, unhappy prince--
Turn, turn! O torment! must I leave you so?
No, stay, and take me with you where you go.
_Don Car. _ Hark, slaves, my goddess summons me to stay.
Dogs!
have you eyes, and can you disobey?
See her! Oh, let me but just touch my bliss. [_Pressing forward. _
_King. _ By hell! he shan't. Slaves, are ye mine or his?
_Queen. _ My life--
_Don Car. _ My soul, farewell! [_Exeunt_ Guards _with_ Don CARLOS.
_Queen. _ He's gone, he's gone!
Now, tyrant, to thy rage I'm left alone;
Give me my death, that hate both life and thee.
_King. _ I know thou dost; yet live.
_Queen. _ O misery! [_Throws herself down. _
Why was I born to be thus cursed? or why
Should life be forced, when 'tis so sweet to die?
_King_ [_To_ D. of EBOLI]. Thou, woman, hast been false; but, to renew
Thy credit in my heart, assist me now.
Prepare a draught of poison, such as will
Act slow, and by degrees of torment kill.
Give it the queen, and, to prevent all sense
Of dying, tell her I've released the prince,
And that ere morning he'll attend her. I
In a disguise his presence will supply;
So glut my rage, and smiling see her die.
_D. of Eboli. _ Your majesty shall be obeyed.
_Ruy-Gom. _ Do, work thy mischiefs to their last degree,
And when they're in their height I'll murder thee.
[_Aside. _
_King. _ Now, Gomez, ply my rage and keep it hot:
O'er love and nature I've the conquest got.
Still charming beauty triumphs in her eyes:
[_Looking at the_ QUEEN.
Yet for my honour and my rest she dies.
[_Exeunt_ QUEEN _and_ Women.
But, oh! what ease can I expect to get,
When I must purchase at so dear a rate? [_Exeunt. _
FOOTNOTES:
[13] Don Carlos actually engaged in intrigues with the principals
of the revolution which broke out in the Low Countries during the
tyrannical reign of Philip II. , and ended in the establishment of the
Dutch republic. --_Thornton. _
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
ACT THE FIFTH.
SCENE I. --_An Apartment in the Palace. _
_Enter_ KING _disguised_.
King. 'Tis night; the season when the happy take
Repose, and only wretches are awake.
Now discontented ghosts begin their rounds,
Haunt ruined buildings and unwholesome grounds;
Or at the curtains of the restless wait,
To frighten them with some sad tale of fate.
When I would rest, I can no rest obtain:
The ills I've borne even o'er my slumbers reign,
And in sad dreams torment me o'er again.
The fatal business is ere this begun:
I'm shocked, and start to think what I have done.
But I forget how I that Philip am
So much for constancy renowned by fame;
Who through the progress of my life was ne'er
By hopes transported, or depressed by fear.
No, it is gone too far to be recalled,
And steadfastness will make the act extolled.
_Enter_ Duchess of EBOLI, _in a night-gown_.
Who? Eboli?
_D. of Eboli. _ My lord.
_King. _ Is the deed done?
_D. of Eboli. _ 'Tis, and the queen to seek repose is gone.
_King. _ Can she expect it, who allowed me none?
No, Eboli; her dreams must be as full
Of horror, and as hellish as her soul.
Does she believe the prince has freedom gained?
_D. of Eboli. _ She does.
_King. _ How were the tidings entertained?
_D. of Eboli. _ O'er all her face young wandering blushes were,
Such as speak hopes too weak to conquer fear:--
But when confirmed, no lover e'er so kind;
She clasped me fast, caressed, and called me friend.
Which opportunity I took, to give
The poison; and till day she cannot live.
_King. _ Quickly then to her; say that Carlos here
Waits to confirm his happiness with her.
Go, that my vengeance I may finish quite:
'Twould be imperfect, should I lose the sight.
But to contrive that I may not be known,
And she may still mistake me for my son,
Remove all light but that which may suffice
To let her see me scorn her when she dies.
_D. of Eboli. _ You'll find her all in rueful sables clad,
With one dim lamp that yields imperfect light,
Such as in vaults assist the ghastly shade,
Where wretched widows come to weep at night.
Thus she resolves to die, or living mourn,
Till Carlos shall with liberty return. [_Exit. _
_King. _ O steadfast sin! incorrigible lust!
Not damned! it is impossible; she must.
How do I long to see her in her pains,
The poisonous sulphur rolling through her veins!
_Enter_ Don JOHN _and_ Attendants.
Who's there? my brother?
_Don John. _ Yes, sir, and your friend.
What can your presence here so late intend?
_King. _ O Austria! Fate's at work; a deed's in hand
Will put thy youthful courage to a stand.
Survey me; do I look as heretofore?
_Don John. _ You look like King of Spain, and lord of power;
Like one who still seeks glory on the wing;
You look as I would do, were I a king.
_King. _ A king! why I am more, I'm all that can
Be counted miserable in a man.
But thou shalt see how calm anon I'll grow;
I'll be as happy and as gay as thou.
_Don John. _ No, sir; my happiness you cannot have,
Whilst to your abject passions thus a slave.
To know my ease, you thoughts like mine must bring,
Be something less a man, and more a king.
_King. _ I'm growing so. 'Tis true that long I strove
With pleading nature, combated with love,
Those witchcrafts that had bound my soul so fast;
But now the date of the enchantment's past:
Before my rage like ruins down they fall,
And I mount up true monarch o'er them all.
_Don John. _ I know your queen and son you've doomed to die,
And fear by this the fatal hour is nigh.
Why would you cut a sure succession off,
At which your friends must grieve, and foes will laugh;
As if, since age has from you took away
Increase, you'd grow malicious, and destroy?
_King. _ Doubt it not, Austria: thou my brother art,
And in my blood I'm certain hast a part.
Only the justice of my vengeance own,--
Thou'rt heir of Spain, and my adopted son.
_Don John. _ I must confess there in a crown are charms,
Which I would court in bloody fields and arms;
But in my nephew's wrong I must decline,
Since he must be extinguished ere I shine.
To mount a throne o'er battlements I'd climb,
Where Death should wait on me, not I on him.
Did you e'er love, or have you ever known
The mighty value of so brave a son?
_King. _ I guessed I should be treated thus before;
I know it is thy kindness, but no more.
Thou, living free, alas! art easy grown
And think'st all hearts as honest as thy own.
_Don John. _ Not, sir, so easy as I must be bold,
And speak what you perhaps would have untold;
That you're a slave to the vilest that obey,
Such as disgrace on royal favour lay,
And blindly follow as they lead astray:
Voracious varlets, sordid hangers-on;
Best by familiarity they're known,
Yet shrink at frowns: but when you smile they fawn.
They're these have wronged you, and abused your ears,
Possessed your mind with false misgrounded fears.
_King. _ Misgrounded fears? Why, is there any truth
In women's vows, or disobedient youth?
I sooner would believe this world were Heaven,
Where I have nought but toils and torment met,
And never comfort yet to man was given.
But thou shalt see how my revenge I'll treat.
[_A curtain is drawn, and discovers the_
QUEEN _alone in mourning on her couch,_
_with a lamp by her. _
Look where she sits, as quiet and serene [_Ironically. _
As if she never had a thought of sin,
In mourning, her wronged innocence to show!
She has sworn't so oft, that she believes it true.
O'erwhelmed with sorrow she'll in darkness dwell:
So we have heard of witches in a cell,
Treating with fiends, and making leagues with hell.
[_The_ QUEEN _rises and comes towards him_.
_Queen. _ My lord! Prince Carlos! may it be believed?
Are my eyes blessed; and am I not deceived?
_King. _ My queen, my love, I'm here-- [_Embraces her. _
_Queen. _ My lord the king!
This is surprising kindness which you bring.
Can you believe me innocent at last?
Methinks my griefs are half already past.
_King. _ O tongue, in nothing practised but deceit!
Too well she knew him, not to find the cheat. [_Aside. _
Yes, vile incestuous woman, it is I,
The king: look on me well, despair, and die.
_Queen. _ Why had you not pronounced my doom before,
Since to affliction you could add no more?
Methinks death is less welcome, when I find
You could but counterfeit a look that's kind.
_King. _ No, now thou'rt fit for death: had I believed
Thou couldst have been more wicked, thou hadst lived,--
Lived and gone on in lust and riot still;
But I perceived thee early ripe for hell:
And, that of the reward thou mightst not miss,
This night thou'st drank thy bane, thou'rt poisoned; yes,
Thou art--
_Queen. _ Then welcome everlasting bliss!
But, ere I die, let me here make a vow,--
By Heaven, and all I hope for there, I'm true!
_King. _ Vows you had always ready when you spoke:
How many of them have you made, and broke!
Yet there's a Power that does your falsehood hear,
A just one too, that lets thee live to swear.
How comes it that above such mercy dwells,
To permit sin, and make us infidels?
_Queen. _ You have been ever so to all that's good,
My innocence had else been understood.
At first your love was nothing but your pride.
When I arrived to be the prince's bride,
You then a kind indulgent father were;
But, finding me unfortunately fair,
Thought me a prize too rich to be possessed
By him, and forced yourself into my breast,
Where you maintained an unresisted power;
Not your own daughter could have loved you more,
Till, conscious of your age, my faith was blamed,
And I a lewd adulteress proclaimed,
Accused of foulest incest with your son--
What more could my worst enemy have done?
_King. _ Nothing, I hope; I would not have it said
That in my vengeance any fault I made.
Love me! O low pretence, too feebly built!
But 'tis the constant fault of dying guilt
Even to the last to cry they're innocent,
When their despair's so great, they can't repent.
_Queen. _ Thus having urged your malice to the head,
You spitefully are come to rail me dead.
Had I been man, and had an impious wife,
With speedy fury I'd have snatched her life;
Torn a broad passage open to her heart,
And there have ransacked each polluted part;
Triumphed and laughed to have seen the issuing flood,
And wantonly have bathed my hands in blood.
That had outdone the low revenge you bring,
Much fitter for a woman than a king.
_King. _ I'm glad I know what death you'd wish to have:
You would go down in silence to your grave;
Remove from future fame, as present times,
And bury with you, if you could, your crimes.
No, I will have my justice understood,
Proclaim thy falsehood and thy lust aloud.
_Queen. _ About it then, the noble work begin;
Be proud, and boast how cruel you have been.
Oh, how a monarch's glory 'twill advance!
Do, quickly let it reach the ears of France.
I've there a royal brother that is young,
Who'll certainly revenge his sister's wrong;
Into thy Spain a mighty army bring,
Tumble thee from thy throne a wretched thing,
And make it quite forgot thou e'er wert king.
_King. _ I ne'er had pleasure with her till this night:
The viper finds she's crushed, and fain would bite. --
Oh! were he here, and durst maintain that word,
I'd like an eagle seize the callow bird,
And gripe him till the dastard craven cried;
Then throw him panting by his sister's side.
_Queen. _ Alas! I faint and sink; my lord, your hand!