_ My lord, I come not hither now to hear
Your love, but offer something to your ear.
Your love, but offer something to your ear.
Thomas Otway
,[7] who, far above what I am
ever able to deserve from him, seemed almost to make it his business to
establish it in the good opinion of the King and his Royal Highness;
from both of whom I have since received confirmation of their good
liking of it, and encouragement to proceed. And it is to him, I must
in all gratitude confess, I owe the greatest part of my good success
in this, and on whose indulgency I extremely build my hopes of a next.
I dare not presume to take to myself what a great many, and those (I
am sure) of good judgment too, have been so kind to afford me--viz. ,
that it is the best heroic play that has been written of late; for, I
thank Heaven, I am not yet so vain. But this I may modestly boast of,
which the author[8] of the French _Berenice_ has done before me, in his
preface to that play, that it never failed to draw tears from the eyes
of the auditors; I mean, those whose hearts were capable of so noble
a pleasure: for it was not my business to take such as only come to a
playhouse to see farce-fools, and laugh at their own deformed pictures.
Though a certain writer that shall be nameless[9] (but you shall guess
at him by what follows), being asked his opinion of this play, very
gravely cocked, and cried, "I'gad, he knew not a line in it he would be
author of. "[10] But he is a fine facetious witty person, as my friend
Sir Formal has it; and to be even with him, I know a comedy of his,
that has not so much as a quibble in it that I would be author of. And
so, Reader, I bid him and thee Farewell.
FOOTNOTES:
[5]
To gain by honourable ways
A great man's favour is no vulgar praise. --_Conington. _
[6] James, Duke of York, afterwards James II.
[7] Rochester, whose motive in patronising Otway at this time was
solely a desire to mortify Dryden.
[8] Racine.
[9] Dryden.
[10] It will be remembered that _I'gad_ is an expression frequently
used by Bayes in the _Rehearsal_; a character written in ridicule of
Davenant, Dryden, the Howards, &c, by the Duke of Buckingham (Dryden's
Zimri), Butler, and others.
[Illustration:
_PROLOGUE_]
When first our author took this play in hand,
He doubted much, and long was at a stand.
He knew the fame and memory of kings
Were to be treated of as sacred things,
Not as they're represented in this age,
Where they appear the lumber of the stage;
Used only just for reconciling tools,
Or what is worse, made villains all, or fools.
Besides, the characters he shows to-night,
He found were very difficult to write:
He found the fame of France and Spain at stake,
Therefore long paused, and feared which part to take;
Till this his judgment safest understood,
To make them both heroic as he could.
But now the greatest stop was yet unpassed;
He found himself, alas! confined too fast.
He is a man of pleasure, sirs, like you,
And therefore hardly could to business bow;
Till at the last he did this conquest get,
To make his pleasure whetstone to his wit;
So sometimes for variety he writ.
But as those blockheads, who discourse by rote,
Sometimes speak sense, although they rarely know't;
So he scarce knew to what his work would grow,
But 'twas a play, because it would be so:
Yet well he knows this is a weak pretence,
For idleness is the worst want of sense.
Let him not now of carelessness be taxed,
He'll write in earnest, when he writes the next:
Meanwhile,--
Prune his superfluous branches, never spare;
Yet do it kindly, be not too severe:
He may bear better fruit another year.
[Illustration]
[Illustration:
_DRAMATIS PERSONÆ. _]
PHILIP II. , King of Spain.
DON CARLOS, his Son.
DON JOHN of Austria.
Marquis of POSA, the Prince's Confidant.
RUY-GOMEZ.
Officer of the Guards.
QUEEN OF SPAIN.
Duchess of EBOLI, Wife of Ruy-Gomez.
HENRIETTA.
GARCIA.
SCENE--THE COURT OF SPAIN.
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
_DON CARLOS, PRINCE OF SPAIN. _
ACT THE FIRST.
SCENE I. --_An Apartment in the Palace. _
KING _and_ QUEEN, Don CARLOS, _the_ Marquis of POSA,
RUY-GOMEZ, _the_ Duchess of EBOLI, HENRIETTA,
GARCIA, Attendants, _and_ Guards _discovered_.
King. Happy the monarch, on whose brow no cares
Add weight to the bright diadem he wears;
Like me, in all that he can wish for, blest.
Renown and love, the gentlest calms of rest,
And peace, adorn my brow, enrich my breast.
To me great nations tributary are;
Though, whilst my vast dominions spread so far,
Where most I reign, I must pay homage, here. [_To the_ QUEEN.
Approach, bright mistress of my purest vows:
Now show me him that more religion owes
To Heaven, or to its altars more devoutly bows.
_Don Car. _ So merchants, cast upon some savage coast,
Are forced to see their dearest treasures lost.
Curse! what's obedience? a false notion made
By priests, who when they found old cheats decayed,
By such new arts kept up declining trade. [_Aside. _
A father! Oh!
_King. _ Why does my Carlos shroud
His joy, and when all's sunshine wear a cloud?
My son, thus for thy glory I provide;
From this fair charmer, and our royal bride,
Shall such a noble race of heroes spring,
As may adorn the court when thou art king.
_Don Car. _ A greater glory I can never know
Than what already I enjoy in you.
The brightest ornaments of crowns and powers
I only can admire, as they are yours.
_King. _ Heaven! how he stands unmoved! not the least show
Of transport.
_Don Car. _ Not admire your happiness? I do
As much admire it as I reverence you.
Let me express the mighty joy I feel:
Thus, sir, I pay my duty when I kneel. [_Kneels to the_ QUEEN.
_Queen. _ How hard it is his passion to confine!
I'm sure 'tis so, if I may judge by mine. [_Aside. _
Alas! my lord, you're too obsequious now. [_To_ Don CARLOS.
_Don Car. _ Oh! might I but enjoy this pleasure still,
Here would I worship, and for ever kneel.
_Queen. _ 'Fore Heaven, my lord! you know not what you do.
_King. _ Still there appears disturbance on his brow;
And in his looks an earnestness I read,
Which from no common causes can proceed. [_Aside. _
I'll probe him deep. When, when, my dearest joy,
[_To the_ QUEEN.
Shall I the mighty debt of love defray?
Hence to love's secret temple let's retire,
There on his altars kindle the amorous fire,
Then, phoenix-like, each in the flame expire. --
Still he is fixed. [_Looking on_ Don CARLOS. ] Gomez, observe
the prince. --
Yet smile on me, my charming excellence.
[_To the_ QUEEN.
Virgins should only fears and blushes show;
But you must lay aside that title now.
The doctrine which I preach, by Heaven, is good:--
Oh, the impetuous sallies of my blood!
_Queen. _ To what unwelcome joys I'm forced to yield?
Now fate her utmost malice has fulfilled.
Carlos, farewell; for since I must submit--
_King. _ Now, winged with rapture, let us fly, my sweet.
My son, all troubles from thy breast resign,
And let thy father's happiness be thine.
[_Exeunt_ KING _and_ QUEEN,
RUY-GOMEZ, Duchess of EBOLI,
HENRIETTA, GARCIA, _and_ Attendants.
_Don Car. _ What king, what god would not his power forego,
To enjoy so much divinity below!
Didst thou behold her, Posa?
_M. of Posa. _ Sir, I did.
_Don Car. _ And is she not a sweet one? Such a bride!
O Posa, once she was decreed for mine:
Once I had hopes of bliss. Hadst thou but seen
How blest, how proud I was if I could get
But leave to lie a prostrate at her feet!
Even with a look I could my pains beguile;
Nay, she in pity too would sometimes smile;
Till at the last my vows successful proved,
And one day, sighing, she confessed she loved.
Oh! then I found no limits to our joy,
With eyes thus languishing we looked all day;
So vigorous and strong we darted beams,
Our meeting glances kindled into flames;
Nothing we found that promised not delight:
For when rude shades deprived us of the light,
As we had gazed all day, we dreamt all night.
But, after all these labours undergone,
A cruel father thus destroys his son;
In their full height my choicest hopes beguiles,
And robs me of the fruit of all my toils.
My dearest Posa, thou wert ever kind;
Bring thy best counsel, and direct my mind.
_Re-enter_ RUY-GOMEZ.
_Ruy-Gom. _ Still he is here. My lord!
_Don Car. _ Your business now?
_Ruy-Gom. _ I've with concern beheld your clouded brow.
Ah! though you've lost a beauty well might make
Your strictest honour and your duty shake,
Let not a father's ills[11] misguide your mind,
But be obedient, though he has proved unkind.
_Don Car. _ Hence, cynic, to dull slaves thy morals teach;
I have no leisure now to hear thee preach:
Still you'll usurp a power o'er my will.
_Ruy-Gom. _ Sir, you my services interpret ill:
Nor need it be so soon forgot that I
Have been your guardian from your infancy.
When to my charge committed, I alone
Instructed you how to expect a crown;
Taught you ambition, and war's noblest arts,
How to lead armies, and to conquer hearts;
Whilst, though but young,
You would with pleasure read of sieges got,
And smile to hear of bloody battles fought:
And, still, though not control, I may advise,
_Don Car. _ Alas! thy pride wears a too thin disguise:
Too well I know the falsehood of thy soul,
Which to my father rendered me so foul
That hardly as his son a smile I've known,
But always as a traitor met his frown.
My forward honour was ambition called;
Or, if my friends my early fame extolled,
You damped my father's smiles still as they sprung,
Persuading I repined he lived too long.
So all my hopes by you were frustrate made,
And, robbed of sunshine, withered in the shade.
Whilst, my good patriot! you disposed the crown
Out of my reach, to have it in your own.
But I'll prevent your policy--
_Ruy-Gom. _ My lord,
This accusation is unjust and hard.
The king, your father, would not so upbraid
My age: is all my service thus repaid?
But I will hence, and let my master hear
How generously you reward my care;
Who, on my just complaint, I doubt not, will
At least redress the injuries I feel. [_Exit. _
_M. of Posa. _ Alas! my lord, you too severely urge
Your fate; his interest with the king is large.
Besides, you know he has already seen
The transports of your passion for the queen.
The use he may of that advantage make
You ought at least to avoid, but for her sake.
_Don. Car. _ Ah! my dear friend, thou'st touched my tenderest part;
I never yet learned the dissembling art.
Go, call him back; tell him that I implore
His pardon, and will ne'er offend him more.
The queen! kind Heaven, make her thy nearest care!
Oh! fly, o'ertake him ere he goes too far. [_Exit_ Marquis of POSA.
How are we bandied up and down by fate!
By so much more unhappy as we're great.
A prince, and heir to Spain's great monarch born,
I'm forced to court a slave whom most I scorn;
Who like a bramble 'mongst a cedar's boughs,
Vexes his peace under whose shades he grows.
Now he returns: assist me falsehood--down,
Thou rebel passion--
_Re-enter_ RUY-GOMEZ _and the_ Marquis of POSA.
Sir, I fear I've done
[_To_ RUY-GOMEZ.
You wrong; but, if I have, you can forgive.
Heaven! can I do this abject thing, and live? [_Aside. _
_Ruy-Gom. _ Ah, my good lord, it makes too large amends,
When to his vassal thus a prince descends;
Though it was something rigid and unkind,
To upbraid your faithful servant and your friend.
_Don Car. _ Alas! no more; all jealousies shall cease;
Between us two let there be henceforth peace.
So may just Heaven assist me when I sue,
As I to Gomez always will be true.
_Ruy-Gom. _ Stay, sir, and for this mighty favour take
All the return sincerity can make.
Blest in your father's love, as I'm in yours,
May not one fear disturb your happy hours!
Crowned with success may all your wishes be,
And you ne'er find worse enemies than me!
[_Exeunt_ Don CARLOS _and_ Marquis of POSA.
Nor, spite of all his greatness, shall he need:
Of too long date his ruin is decreed.
Spain's early hopes of him have been my fears;
'Twas I the charge had of his tender years,
And read in all the progress of his growth,
An untamed, haughty, hot, and furious youth;
A will unruly, and a spirit wild;
At all my precepts still with scorn he smiled.
Or when, by the power I from his father had,
Any restraint was on his pleasures laid,
Ushered with frowns on me his soul would rise,
And threaten future vengeance from his eyes.
But now to all my fears I bid adieu;
For, prince, I'll humble both your fate and you.
Here comes the star by whom my course I steer.
_Re-enter_ Duchess of EBOLI.
Welcome, my love!
_D. of Eboli. _ My lord, why stay you here,
Losing the pleasures of this happy night?
When all the court are melting in delight,
You toil with the dull business of the state.
_Ruy-Gom. _ Only, my fair one, how to make thee great.
Thou takest up all the business of my heart,
And only to it pleasure canst impart.
Say, say, my goddess, when shall I be blest?
It is an age since I was happy last.
_D. of Eboli.
_ My lord, I come not hither now to hear
Your love, but offer something to your ear.
If you have well observed, you must have seen,
To-day, some strange disorders in the queen.
_Ruy-Gom. _ Yes, such as youthful brides do still express,
Impatient longings for the happiness.
Approaching joys will so disturb the soul,
As needles always tremble near the pole.
_D. of Eboli. _ Come, come, my lord, seem not so blind; too well
I've seen the wrongs which you from Carlos feel;
And know your judgment is too good to lose
Advantage, where you may so safely choose.
Say now, if I inform you how you may
With full revenge all your past wrongs repay--
_Ruy-Gom. _ Blest oracle! speak how it may be done:
My will, my life, my hopes, are all thy own.
_D. of Eboli. _ Hence then, and with your strictest cunning try
What of the queen and prince you can descry;
Watch every look, each quick and subtle glance;
Then we'll from all produce such circumstance
As shall the king's new jealousy advance.
Nay, sir, I'll try what mighty love you show:
If you will make me great, begin it now.
How, sir, d'ye stand considering what to do?
_Ruy-Gom. _ No, but methinks I view from hence a king,
A queen, and prince, three goodly flowers spring:
Whilst on them like a subtle bee I'll prey,
Till, so their strength and virtue drawn away,
Unable to recover, each shall droop,
Grow pale, and fading hang his withered top:
Then, fraught with thyme, triumphant back I'll come,
And unlade all the precious sweets at home. [_Exit. _
_D. of Eboli. _ In thy fond policy, blind fool, go on,
And make what haste thou canst to be undone,
Whilst I have nobler business of my own.
Was I bred up in greatness; have I been
Nurtured with glorious hopes to be a queen;
Made love my study, and with practised charms
Prepared myself to meet a monarch's arms;
At last to be condemned to the embrace
Of one whom nature made to her disgrace,
An old, imperfect, feeble dotard, who
Can only tell (alas! ) what he would do?
On him to throw away my youth and bloom,
As jewels that are lost to enrich a tomb?
No, though all hopes are in a husband dead,
Another path to happiness I'll tread;
Elsewhere find joys which I'm in him denied:
Yet, while he can, let the slave serve my pride.
Still I'll in pleasure live, in glory shine;
The gallant, youthful Austria shall be mine:
To him with all my force of charms I'll move:
Let others toil for greatness, whilst I love. [_Exit. _
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
FOOTNOTES:
[11] _i. e. _ Faults.
ACT THE SECOND.
SCENE I. --_An Orange Grove, near the Palace. _
_Enter_ Don JOHN of Austria.
Don John. Why should dull law rule nature, who first made
That law by which herself is now betrayed?
Ere man's corruptions made him wretched, he
Was born most noble that was born most free:
Each of himself was lord, and, unconfined,
Obeyed the dictates of his god-like mind.
Law was an innovation brought in since,
When fools began to love obedience,
And called their slavery safety and defence.
My glorious father got me in his heat,
When all he did was eminently great:
When warlike Belgia felt his conquering power,
And the proud Germans owned him emperor,
Why should it be a stain then on my blood,
Because I came not in the common road,
But born obscure, and so more like a god?
No; though his diadem another wear,
At least to all his pleasures I'll be heir.
Here I should meet my Eboli, my fair.
_Enter_ Duchess of EBOLI.
She comes; as the bright Cyprian goddess moves,
When loose, and in her chariot drawn by doves,
She rides to meet the warlike god she loves.
_D. of Eboli. _ Alas! my lord, you know not with what fear
And hazard I am come to meet you here.
_Don John. _ Oh, banish it: lovers like us should fly,
And, mounted by their wishes, soar on high,
Where softest ecstasies and transports are,
While fear alone disturbs the lower air.
_D. of Eboli. _ But who is safe when eyes are everywhere?
Or, if we could with happiest secrecy
Enjoy these sweets, oh, whither shall we fly
To escape that sight whence we can nothing hide?
_Don John. _ Alas! lay this religion now aside;
I'll show thee one more pleasant, that which Jove
Set forth to the old world, when from above
He came himself, and taught his mortals love.
_D. of Eboli. _ Will nothing then quench your unruly flame?
My lord, you might consider who I am.
_Don John. _ I know you're her I love, what should I more
Regard?
_D. of Eboli. _ [_Aside. _] By Heaven, he's brave! --
But can so poor
A thought possess your breast, to think that I
Will brand my name with lust and infamy?
_Don John. _ Those who are noblest born should higher prize
Love's sweets. Oh! let me fly into those eyes!
There's something in them leads my soul astray:
As he who in a necromancer's glass
Beholds his wished-for fortune by him pass,
Yet still with greedy eyes
Pursues the vision as it glides away.
_D. of Eboli. _ Protect me, Heaven! I dare no longer stay;
Your looks speak danger; I feel something too
That bids me fly, yet will not let me go. [_Half aside. _
_Don John. _ Take vows and prayers if ever I prove false.
See at your feet the humble Austria falls. [_Kneels. _
_D. of Eboli. _ Rise, rise. [Don JOHN _rises_. ] My lord, why
would you thus deceive? [_Sighs. _
_Don John. _ How many ways to wound me you contrive!
Speak, wouldst thou have an empire at thy feet?
Say, wouldst thou rule the world? I'll conquer it.
_D. of Eboli. _ No; above empire far I could prize you,
If you would be but--
_Don John. _ What?
_D. of Eboli. _ For ever true.
_Don John. _ That thou mayst ne'er have cause to fear those harms,
I'll be confined for ever in thy arms:
Nay, I'll not one short minute from thee stray;
Myself I'll on thy tender bosom lay,
Till in its warmths I'm melted all away.
_Enter_ GARCIA.
_Gar. _ Madam, your lord--
_D. of Eboli. _ Oh! fly, or I'm undone. [_Exit_ GARCIA.
_Don John. _ Must I without thy blessing then be gone?
[_Kisses her hand. _
_D. of Eboli. _ Think you that this discretion merits one?
[_Pulls it back. _
_Don John. _ I'm awed:
As a sick wretch, that on his death-bed lies,
Loth with his friends to part, just as he dies,
Thus sends his soul in wishes from his eyes. [_Exit. _
_D. of Eboli. _ O Heaven! what charms in youth and vigour are!
Yet he in conquest is not gone too far;
Too easily I'll not myself resign:
Ere I am his, I'll make him surely mine;
Draw him by subtle baits into the trap,
Till he's too far got in to make escape;
About him swiftly the soft snare I'll cast,
And when I have him there, I'll hold him fast.
_Enter_ RUY-GOMEZ.
_Ruy-Gom. _ Thus unaccompanied I subtly range
The solitary paths of dark revenge:
The fearful deer in herds to coverts run,
While beasts of prey affect to roam alone.
_D. of Eboli. _ Ah! my dear lord, how do you spend your hours?
You little think what my poor heart endures;
Whilst, with your absence tortured, I in vain
Pant after joys I ne'er can hope to gain.
_Ruy-Gom. _ You cannot my unkindness sure upbraid;
You should forgive those faults yourself have made.
Remember you the task you gave?
_D. of Eboli. _ 'Tis true;
Your pardon, for I do remember now. [_Sighs. _
If I forgot, 'twas love had all my mind;
And 'tis no sin, I hope, to be too kind.
_Ruy-Gom. _ How happy am I in a faithful wife!
O thou most precious blessing of my life!
_D. of Eboli. _ Does then success attend upon your toil?
I long to see you revel in the spoil.
_Ruy-Gom. _ What strictest diligence could do, I've done,
To incense an angry father 'gainst his son.
I to advantage told him all that's past,
Described with art each amorous glance they cast:
So that this night he shunned the marriage-bed,
Which through the court has various murmurs spread.
_Enter the_ KING, _attended by the_ Marquis of POSA.
See where he comes with fury in his eyes:
Kind Heaven, but grant the storm may higher rise!
If't grow too loud, I'll lurk in some dark cell,
And laugh to hear my magic work so well.
_King. _ What's all my glory, all my pomp? how poor
Is fading greatness! or how vain is power!
Where all the mighty conquests I have seen?
I, who o'er nations have victorious been,
Now cannot quell one little foe within.
Cursed jealousy, that poisons all love's sweets!
How heavy on my heart the invader sits!
O Gomez, thou hast given my mortal wound.
_Ruy-Gom. _ What is't does so your royal thoughts confound?
A king his power unbounded ought to have,
And, ruling all, should not be passion's slave.
_King. _ Thou counsell'st well, but art no stranger sure
To the sad cause of what I now endure.
Know'st thou what poison thou didst lately give,
And dost not wonder to behold me live?
_Ruy-Gom. _ I only did as by my duty tied,
And never studied any thing beside.
_King. _ I do not blame thy duty or thy care:
Quickly, what passed between them more, declare.
How greedily my soul to ruin flies!
As he who in a fever burning lies
First of his friends does for a drop implore,
Which tasted once, unable to give o'er,
Knows 'tis his bane, yet still thirsts after more.
Oh, then--
_Ruy-Gom. _ I fear that you'll interpret wrong;
Tis true, they gazed, but 'twas not very long.
_King. _ Lie still, my heart! Not long, was't that you said?
_Ruy-Gom. _ No longer than they in your presence stayed.
_King. _ No longer? Why, a soul in less time flies
To Heaven; and they have changed theirs at their eyes.
Hence, abject fears, begone! she's all divine!
Speak, friends, can angels in perfection sin?
_Ruy-Gom. _ Angels, that shine above, do oft bestow
Their influence on poor mortals here below.
_King. _ But Carlos is my son, and always near;
Seems to move with me in my glorious sphere.
True, she may shower promiscuous blessings down
On slaves that gaze for what falls from a crown;
But when too kindly she his brightness sees,
It robs my lustre to add more to his.
But oh! I dare not think
That those eyes should at least so humble be
To stoop to him, when they had vanquished me.
_M. of Posa. _ Sir, I am proud to think I know the prince,
That he of virtue has too great a sense
To cherish but a thought beyond the bound
Of strictest duty. He to me has owned
How much was to his former passion due,
Yet still confessed he above all prized you.
_Ruy-Gom. _ You better reconcile, sir, than advise:
Be not more charitable than you're wise.
The king is sick, and we should give him ease,
But first find out the depth of his disease.
ever able to deserve from him, seemed almost to make it his business to
establish it in the good opinion of the King and his Royal Highness;
from both of whom I have since received confirmation of their good
liking of it, and encouragement to proceed. And it is to him, I must
in all gratitude confess, I owe the greatest part of my good success
in this, and on whose indulgency I extremely build my hopes of a next.
I dare not presume to take to myself what a great many, and those (I
am sure) of good judgment too, have been so kind to afford me--viz. ,
that it is the best heroic play that has been written of late; for, I
thank Heaven, I am not yet so vain. But this I may modestly boast of,
which the author[8] of the French _Berenice_ has done before me, in his
preface to that play, that it never failed to draw tears from the eyes
of the auditors; I mean, those whose hearts were capable of so noble
a pleasure: for it was not my business to take such as only come to a
playhouse to see farce-fools, and laugh at their own deformed pictures.
Though a certain writer that shall be nameless[9] (but you shall guess
at him by what follows), being asked his opinion of this play, very
gravely cocked, and cried, "I'gad, he knew not a line in it he would be
author of. "[10] But he is a fine facetious witty person, as my friend
Sir Formal has it; and to be even with him, I know a comedy of his,
that has not so much as a quibble in it that I would be author of. And
so, Reader, I bid him and thee Farewell.
FOOTNOTES:
[5]
To gain by honourable ways
A great man's favour is no vulgar praise. --_Conington. _
[6] James, Duke of York, afterwards James II.
[7] Rochester, whose motive in patronising Otway at this time was
solely a desire to mortify Dryden.
[8] Racine.
[9] Dryden.
[10] It will be remembered that _I'gad_ is an expression frequently
used by Bayes in the _Rehearsal_; a character written in ridicule of
Davenant, Dryden, the Howards, &c, by the Duke of Buckingham (Dryden's
Zimri), Butler, and others.
[Illustration:
_PROLOGUE_]
When first our author took this play in hand,
He doubted much, and long was at a stand.
He knew the fame and memory of kings
Were to be treated of as sacred things,
Not as they're represented in this age,
Where they appear the lumber of the stage;
Used only just for reconciling tools,
Or what is worse, made villains all, or fools.
Besides, the characters he shows to-night,
He found were very difficult to write:
He found the fame of France and Spain at stake,
Therefore long paused, and feared which part to take;
Till this his judgment safest understood,
To make them both heroic as he could.
But now the greatest stop was yet unpassed;
He found himself, alas! confined too fast.
He is a man of pleasure, sirs, like you,
And therefore hardly could to business bow;
Till at the last he did this conquest get,
To make his pleasure whetstone to his wit;
So sometimes for variety he writ.
But as those blockheads, who discourse by rote,
Sometimes speak sense, although they rarely know't;
So he scarce knew to what his work would grow,
But 'twas a play, because it would be so:
Yet well he knows this is a weak pretence,
For idleness is the worst want of sense.
Let him not now of carelessness be taxed,
He'll write in earnest, when he writes the next:
Meanwhile,--
Prune his superfluous branches, never spare;
Yet do it kindly, be not too severe:
He may bear better fruit another year.
[Illustration]
[Illustration:
_DRAMATIS PERSONÆ. _]
PHILIP II. , King of Spain.
DON CARLOS, his Son.
DON JOHN of Austria.
Marquis of POSA, the Prince's Confidant.
RUY-GOMEZ.
Officer of the Guards.
QUEEN OF SPAIN.
Duchess of EBOLI, Wife of Ruy-Gomez.
HENRIETTA.
GARCIA.
SCENE--THE COURT OF SPAIN.
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
_DON CARLOS, PRINCE OF SPAIN. _
ACT THE FIRST.
SCENE I. --_An Apartment in the Palace. _
KING _and_ QUEEN, Don CARLOS, _the_ Marquis of POSA,
RUY-GOMEZ, _the_ Duchess of EBOLI, HENRIETTA,
GARCIA, Attendants, _and_ Guards _discovered_.
King. Happy the monarch, on whose brow no cares
Add weight to the bright diadem he wears;
Like me, in all that he can wish for, blest.
Renown and love, the gentlest calms of rest,
And peace, adorn my brow, enrich my breast.
To me great nations tributary are;
Though, whilst my vast dominions spread so far,
Where most I reign, I must pay homage, here. [_To the_ QUEEN.
Approach, bright mistress of my purest vows:
Now show me him that more religion owes
To Heaven, or to its altars more devoutly bows.
_Don Car. _ So merchants, cast upon some savage coast,
Are forced to see their dearest treasures lost.
Curse! what's obedience? a false notion made
By priests, who when they found old cheats decayed,
By such new arts kept up declining trade. [_Aside. _
A father! Oh!
_King. _ Why does my Carlos shroud
His joy, and when all's sunshine wear a cloud?
My son, thus for thy glory I provide;
From this fair charmer, and our royal bride,
Shall such a noble race of heroes spring,
As may adorn the court when thou art king.
_Don Car. _ A greater glory I can never know
Than what already I enjoy in you.
The brightest ornaments of crowns and powers
I only can admire, as they are yours.
_King. _ Heaven! how he stands unmoved! not the least show
Of transport.
_Don Car. _ Not admire your happiness? I do
As much admire it as I reverence you.
Let me express the mighty joy I feel:
Thus, sir, I pay my duty when I kneel. [_Kneels to the_ QUEEN.
_Queen. _ How hard it is his passion to confine!
I'm sure 'tis so, if I may judge by mine. [_Aside. _
Alas! my lord, you're too obsequious now. [_To_ Don CARLOS.
_Don Car. _ Oh! might I but enjoy this pleasure still,
Here would I worship, and for ever kneel.
_Queen. _ 'Fore Heaven, my lord! you know not what you do.
_King. _ Still there appears disturbance on his brow;
And in his looks an earnestness I read,
Which from no common causes can proceed. [_Aside. _
I'll probe him deep. When, when, my dearest joy,
[_To the_ QUEEN.
Shall I the mighty debt of love defray?
Hence to love's secret temple let's retire,
There on his altars kindle the amorous fire,
Then, phoenix-like, each in the flame expire. --
Still he is fixed. [_Looking on_ Don CARLOS. ] Gomez, observe
the prince. --
Yet smile on me, my charming excellence.
[_To the_ QUEEN.
Virgins should only fears and blushes show;
But you must lay aside that title now.
The doctrine which I preach, by Heaven, is good:--
Oh, the impetuous sallies of my blood!
_Queen. _ To what unwelcome joys I'm forced to yield?
Now fate her utmost malice has fulfilled.
Carlos, farewell; for since I must submit--
_King. _ Now, winged with rapture, let us fly, my sweet.
My son, all troubles from thy breast resign,
And let thy father's happiness be thine.
[_Exeunt_ KING _and_ QUEEN,
RUY-GOMEZ, Duchess of EBOLI,
HENRIETTA, GARCIA, _and_ Attendants.
_Don Car. _ What king, what god would not his power forego,
To enjoy so much divinity below!
Didst thou behold her, Posa?
_M. of Posa. _ Sir, I did.
_Don Car. _ And is she not a sweet one? Such a bride!
O Posa, once she was decreed for mine:
Once I had hopes of bliss. Hadst thou but seen
How blest, how proud I was if I could get
But leave to lie a prostrate at her feet!
Even with a look I could my pains beguile;
Nay, she in pity too would sometimes smile;
Till at the last my vows successful proved,
And one day, sighing, she confessed she loved.
Oh! then I found no limits to our joy,
With eyes thus languishing we looked all day;
So vigorous and strong we darted beams,
Our meeting glances kindled into flames;
Nothing we found that promised not delight:
For when rude shades deprived us of the light,
As we had gazed all day, we dreamt all night.
But, after all these labours undergone,
A cruel father thus destroys his son;
In their full height my choicest hopes beguiles,
And robs me of the fruit of all my toils.
My dearest Posa, thou wert ever kind;
Bring thy best counsel, and direct my mind.
_Re-enter_ RUY-GOMEZ.
_Ruy-Gom. _ Still he is here. My lord!
_Don Car. _ Your business now?
_Ruy-Gom. _ I've with concern beheld your clouded brow.
Ah! though you've lost a beauty well might make
Your strictest honour and your duty shake,
Let not a father's ills[11] misguide your mind,
But be obedient, though he has proved unkind.
_Don Car. _ Hence, cynic, to dull slaves thy morals teach;
I have no leisure now to hear thee preach:
Still you'll usurp a power o'er my will.
_Ruy-Gom. _ Sir, you my services interpret ill:
Nor need it be so soon forgot that I
Have been your guardian from your infancy.
When to my charge committed, I alone
Instructed you how to expect a crown;
Taught you ambition, and war's noblest arts,
How to lead armies, and to conquer hearts;
Whilst, though but young,
You would with pleasure read of sieges got,
And smile to hear of bloody battles fought:
And, still, though not control, I may advise,
_Don Car. _ Alas! thy pride wears a too thin disguise:
Too well I know the falsehood of thy soul,
Which to my father rendered me so foul
That hardly as his son a smile I've known,
But always as a traitor met his frown.
My forward honour was ambition called;
Or, if my friends my early fame extolled,
You damped my father's smiles still as they sprung,
Persuading I repined he lived too long.
So all my hopes by you were frustrate made,
And, robbed of sunshine, withered in the shade.
Whilst, my good patriot! you disposed the crown
Out of my reach, to have it in your own.
But I'll prevent your policy--
_Ruy-Gom. _ My lord,
This accusation is unjust and hard.
The king, your father, would not so upbraid
My age: is all my service thus repaid?
But I will hence, and let my master hear
How generously you reward my care;
Who, on my just complaint, I doubt not, will
At least redress the injuries I feel. [_Exit. _
_M. of Posa. _ Alas! my lord, you too severely urge
Your fate; his interest with the king is large.
Besides, you know he has already seen
The transports of your passion for the queen.
The use he may of that advantage make
You ought at least to avoid, but for her sake.
_Don. Car. _ Ah! my dear friend, thou'st touched my tenderest part;
I never yet learned the dissembling art.
Go, call him back; tell him that I implore
His pardon, and will ne'er offend him more.
The queen! kind Heaven, make her thy nearest care!
Oh! fly, o'ertake him ere he goes too far. [_Exit_ Marquis of POSA.
How are we bandied up and down by fate!
By so much more unhappy as we're great.
A prince, and heir to Spain's great monarch born,
I'm forced to court a slave whom most I scorn;
Who like a bramble 'mongst a cedar's boughs,
Vexes his peace under whose shades he grows.
Now he returns: assist me falsehood--down,
Thou rebel passion--
_Re-enter_ RUY-GOMEZ _and the_ Marquis of POSA.
Sir, I fear I've done
[_To_ RUY-GOMEZ.
You wrong; but, if I have, you can forgive.
Heaven! can I do this abject thing, and live? [_Aside. _
_Ruy-Gom. _ Ah, my good lord, it makes too large amends,
When to his vassal thus a prince descends;
Though it was something rigid and unkind,
To upbraid your faithful servant and your friend.
_Don Car. _ Alas! no more; all jealousies shall cease;
Between us two let there be henceforth peace.
So may just Heaven assist me when I sue,
As I to Gomez always will be true.
_Ruy-Gom. _ Stay, sir, and for this mighty favour take
All the return sincerity can make.
Blest in your father's love, as I'm in yours,
May not one fear disturb your happy hours!
Crowned with success may all your wishes be,
And you ne'er find worse enemies than me!
[_Exeunt_ Don CARLOS _and_ Marquis of POSA.
Nor, spite of all his greatness, shall he need:
Of too long date his ruin is decreed.
Spain's early hopes of him have been my fears;
'Twas I the charge had of his tender years,
And read in all the progress of his growth,
An untamed, haughty, hot, and furious youth;
A will unruly, and a spirit wild;
At all my precepts still with scorn he smiled.
Or when, by the power I from his father had,
Any restraint was on his pleasures laid,
Ushered with frowns on me his soul would rise,
And threaten future vengeance from his eyes.
But now to all my fears I bid adieu;
For, prince, I'll humble both your fate and you.
Here comes the star by whom my course I steer.
_Re-enter_ Duchess of EBOLI.
Welcome, my love!
_D. of Eboli. _ My lord, why stay you here,
Losing the pleasures of this happy night?
When all the court are melting in delight,
You toil with the dull business of the state.
_Ruy-Gom. _ Only, my fair one, how to make thee great.
Thou takest up all the business of my heart,
And only to it pleasure canst impart.
Say, say, my goddess, when shall I be blest?
It is an age since I was happy last.
_D. of Eboli.
_ My lord, I come not hither now to hear
Your love, but offer something to your ear.
If you have well observed, you must have seen,
To-day, some strange disorders in the queen.
_Ruy-Gom. _ Yes, such as youthful brides do still express,
Impatient longings for the happiness.
Approaching joys will so disturb the soul,
As needles always tremble near the pole.
_D. of Eboli. _ Come, come, my lord, seem not so blind; too well
I've seen the wrongs which you from Carlos feel;
And know your judgment is too good to lose
Advantage, where you may so safely choose.
Say now, if I inform you how you may
With full revenge all your past wrongs repay--
_Ruy-Gom. _ Blest oracle! speak how it may be done:
My will, my life, my hopes, are all thy own.
_D. of Eboli. _ Hence then, and with your strictest cunning try
What of the queen and prince you can descry;
Watch every look, each quick and subtle glance;
Then we'll from all produce such circumstance
As shall the king's new jealousy advance.
Nay, sir, I'll try what mighty love you show:
If you will make me great, begin it now.
How, sir, d'ye stand considering what to do?
_Ruy-Gom. _ No, but methinks I view from hence a king,
A queen, and prince, three goodly flowers spring:
Whilst on them like a subtle bee I'll prey,
Till, so their strength and virtue drawn away,
Unable to recover, each shall droop,
Grow pale, and fading hang his withered top:
Then, fraught with thyme, triumphant back I'll come,
And unlade all the precious sweets at home. [_Exit. _
_D. of Eboli. _ In thy fond policy, blind fool, go on,
And make what haste thou canst to be undone,
Whilst I have nobler business of my own.
Was I bred up in greatness; have I been
Nurtured with glorious hopes to be a queen;
Made love my study, and with practised charms
Prepared myself to meet a monarch's arms;
At last to be condemned to the embrace
Of one whom nature made to her disgrace,
An old, imperfect, feeble dotard, who
Can only tell (alas! ) what he would do?
On him to throw away my youth and bloom,
As jewels that are lost to enrich a tomb?
No, though all hopes are in a husband dead,
Another path to happiness I'll tread;
Elsewhere find joys which I'm in him denied:
Yet, while he can, let the slave serve my pride.
Still I'll in pleasure live, in glory shine;
The gallant, youthful Austria shall be mine:
To him with all my force of charms I'll move:
Let others toil for greatness, whilst I love. [_Exit. _
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
FOOTNOTES:
[11] _i. e. _ Faults.
ACT THE SECOND.
SCENE I. --_An Orange Grove, near the Palace. _
_Enter_ Don JOHN of Austria.
Don John. Why should dull law rule nature, who first made
That law by which herself is now betrayed?
Ere man's corruptions made him wretched, he
Was born most noble that was born most free:
Each of himself was lord, and, unconfined,
Obeyed the dictates of his god-like mind.
Law was an innovation brought in since,
When fools began to love obedience,
And called their slavery safety and defence.
My glorious father got me in his heat,
When all he did was eminently great:
When warlike Belgia felt his conquering power,
And the proud Germans owned him emperor,
Why should it be a stain then on my blood,
Because I came not in the common road,
But born obscure, and so more like a god?
No; though his diadem another wear,
At least to all his pleasures I'll be heir.
Here I should meet my Eboli, my fair.
_Enter_ Duchess of EBOLI.
She comes; as the bright Cyprian goddess moves,
When loose, and in her chariot drawn by doves,
She rides to meet the warlike god she loves.
_D. of Eboli. _ Alas! my lord, you know not with what fear
And hazard I am come to meet you here.
_Don John. _ Oh, banish it: lovers like us should fly,
And, mounted by their wishes, soar on high,
Where softest ecstasies and transports are,
While fear alone disturbs the lower air.
_D. of Eboli. _ But who is safe when eyes are everywhere?
Or, if we could with happiest secrecy
Enjoy these sweets, oh, whither shall we fly
To escape that sight whence we can nothing hide?
_Don John. _ Alas! lay this religion now aside;
I'll show thee one more pleasant, that which Jove
Set forth to the old world, when from above
He came himself, and taught his mortals love.
_D. of Eboli. _ Will nothing then quench your unruly flame?
My lord, you might consider who I am.
_Don John. _ I know you're her I love, what should I more
Regard?
_D. of Eboli. _ [_Aside. _] By Heaven, he's brave! --
But can so poor
A thought possess your breast, to think that I
Will brand my name with lust and infamy?
_Don John. _ Those who are noblest born should higher prize
Love's sweets. Oh! let me fly into those eyes!
There's something in them leads my soul astray:
As he who in a necromancer's glass
Beholds his wished-for fortune by him pass,
Yet still with greedy eyes
Pursues the vision as it glides away.
_D. of Eboli. _ Protect me, Heaven! I dare no longer stay;
Your looks speak danger; I feel something too
That bids me fly, yet will not let me go. [_Half aside. _
_Don John. _ Take vows and prayers if ever I prove false.
See at your feet the humble Austria falls. [_Kneels. _
_D. of Eboli. _ Rise, rise. [Don JOHN _rises_. ] My lord, why
would you thus deceive? [_Sighs. _
_Don John. _ How many ways to wound me you contrive!
Speak, wouldst thou have an empire at thy feet?
Say, wouldst thou rule the world? I'll conquer it.
_D. of Eboli. _ No; above empire far I could prize you,
If you would be but--
_Don John. _ What?
_D. of Eboli. _ For ever true.
_Don John. _ That thou mayst ne'er have cause to fear those harms,
I'll be confined for ever in thy arms:
Nay, I'll not one short minute from thee stray;
Myself I'll on thy tender bosom lay,
Till in its warmths I'm melted all away.
_Enter_ GARCIA.
_Gar. _ Madam, your lord--
_D. of Eboli. _ Oh! fly, or I'm undone. [_Exit_ GARCIA.
_Don John. _ Must I without thy blessing then be gone?
[_Kisses her hand. _
_D. of Eboli. _ Think you that this discretion merits one?
[_Pulls it back. _
_Don John. _ I'm awed:
As a sick wretch, that on his death-bed lies,
Loth with his friends to part, just as he dies,
Thus sends his soul in wishes from his eyes. [_Exit. _
_D. of Eboli. _ O Heaven! what charms in youth and vigour are!
Yet he in conquest is not gone too far;
Too easily I'll not myself resign:
Ere I am his, I'll make him surely mine;
Draw him by subtle baits into the trap,
Till he's too far got in to make escape;
About him swiftly the soft snare I'll cast,
And when I have him there, I'll hold him fast.
_Enter_ RUY-GOMEZ.
_Ruy-Gom. _ Thus unaccompanied I subtly range
The solitary paths of dark revenge:
The fearful deer in herds to coverts run,
While beasts of prey affect to roam alone.
_D. of Eboli. _ Ah! my dear lord, how do you spend your hours?
You little think what my poor heart endures;
Whilst, with your absence tortured, I in vain
Pant after joys I ne'er can hope to gain.
_Ruy-Gom. _ You cannot my unkindness sure upbraid;
You should forgive those faults yourself have made.
Remember you the task you gave?
_D. of Eboli. _ 'Tis true;
Your pardon, for I do remember now. [_Sighs. _
If I forgot, 'twas love had all my mind;
And 'tis no sin, I hope, to be too kind.
_Ruy-Gom. _ How happy am I in a faithful wife!
O thou most precious blessing of my life!
_D. of Eboli. _ Does then success attend upon your toil?
I long to see you revel in the spoil.
_Ruy-Gom. _ What strictest diligence could do, I've done,
To incense an angry father 'gainst his son.
I to advantage told him all that's past,
Described with art each amorous glance they cast:
So that this night he shunned the marriage-bed,
Which through the court has various murmurs spread.
_Enter the_ KING, _attended by the_ Marquis of POSA.
See where he comes with fury in his eyes:
Kind Heaven, but grant the storm may higher rise!
If't grow too loud, I'll lurk in some dark cell,
And laugh to hear my magic work so well.
_King. _ What's all my glory, all my pomp? how poor
Is fading greatness! or how vain is power!
Where all the mighty conquests I have seen?
I, who o'er nations have victorious been,
Now cannot quell one little foe within.
Cursed jealousy, that poisons all love's sweets!
How heavy on my heart the invader sits!
O Gomez, thou hast given my mortal wound.
_Ruy-Gom. _ What is't does so your royal thoughts confound?
A king his power unbounded ought to have,
And, ruling all, should not be passion's slave.
_King. _ Thou counsell'st well, but art no stranger sure
To the sad cause of what I now endure.
Know'st thou what poison thou didst lately give,
And dost not wonder to behold me live?
_Ruy-Gom. _ I only did as by my duty tied,
And never studied any thing beside.
_King. _ I do not blame thy duty or thy care:
Quickly, what passed between them more, declare.
How greedily my soul to ruin flies!
As he who in a fever burning lies
First of his friends does for a drop implore,
Which tasted once, unable to give o'er,
Knows 'tis his bane, yet still thirsts after more.
Oh, then--
_Ruy-Gom. _ I fear that you'll interpret wrong;
Tis true, they gazed, but 'twas not very long.
_King. _ Lie still, my heart! Not long, was't that you said?
_Ruy-Gom. _ No longer than they in your presence stayed.
_King. _ No longer? Why, a soul in less time flies
To Heaven; and they have changed theirs at their eyes.
Hence, abject fears, begone! she's all divine!
Speak, friends, can angels in perfection sin?
_Ruy-Gom. _ Angels, that shine above, do oft bestow
Their influence on poor mortals here below.
_King. _ But Carlos is my son, and always near;
Seems to move with me in my glorious sphere.
True, she may shower promiscuous blessings down
On slaves that gaze for what falls from a crown;
But when too kindly she his brightness sees,
It robs my lustre to add more to his.
But oh! I dare not think
That those eyes should at least so humble be
To stoop to him, when they had vanquished me.
_M. of Posa. _ Sir, I am proud to think I know the prince,
That he of virtue has too great a sense
To cherish but a thought beyond the bound
Of strictest duty. He to me has owned
How much was to his former passion due,
Yet still confessed he above all prized you.
_Ruy-Gom. _ You better reconcile, sir, than advise:
Be not more charitable than you're wise.
The king is sick, and we should give him ease,
But first find out the depth of his disease.
