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The Works of Frederick Schiller Part 278

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CARLOS. I'll follow straight.

[Exit DOMINGO.

CARLOS (after a short silence).

O wretched Philip! wretched as thy son!

Soon shall thy bosom bleed at every pore, Torn by suspicion's poisonous serpent fang.

Thy fell sagacity full soon shall pierce The fatal secret it is bent to know, And thou wilt madden, when it breaks upon thee!

SCENE II.

CARLOS, MARQUIS OF POSA.

CARLOS.

Lo! Who comes here? 'Tis he! O ye kind heavens, My Roderigo!

MARQUIS. Carlos!

CARLOS. Can it be?

And is it truly thou? O yes, it is!

I press thee to my bosom, and I feel Thy throbbing heart beat wildly 'gainst mine own.

And now all's well again. In this embrace My sick, sad heart is comforted. I hang Upon my Roderigo's neck!

MARQUIS. Thy heart!

Thy sick sad heart! And what is well again What needeth to be well? Thy words amaze me.

CARLOS.

What brings thee back so suddenly from Brussels?

Whom must I thank for this most glad surprise?

And dare I ask? Whom should I thank but thee, Thou gracious and all bounteous Providence?

Forgive me, heaven! if joy hath crazed my brain.

Thou knewest no angel watched at Carlos' side, And sent me this! And yet I ask who sent him.

MARQUIS.

Pardon, dear prince, if I can only meet With wonder these tumultuous ecstacies.

Not thus I looked to find Don Philip's son.

A hectic red burns on your pallid cheek, And your lips quiver with a feverish heat.

What must I think, dear prince? No more I see The youth of lion heart, to whom I come The envoy of a brave and suffering people.

For now I stand not here as Roderigo-- Not as the playmate of the stripling Carlos-- But, as the deputy of all mankind, I clasp thee thus:--'tis Flanders that clings here Around thy neck, appealing with my tears To thee for succor in her bitter need.

This land is lost, this land so dear to thee, If Alva, bigotry's relentless tool, Advance on Brussels with his Spanish laws.

This n.o.ble country's last faint hope depends On thee, loved scion of imperial Charles!

And, should thy n.o.ble heart forget to beat In human nature's cause, Flanders is lost!

CARLOS.

Then it is lost.

MARQUIS.

What do I hear? Alas!

CARLOS.

Thou speakest of times that long have pa.s.sed away.

I, too, have had my visions of a Carlos, Whose cheek would fire at freedom's glorious name, But he, alas! has long been in his grave.

He, thou seest here, no longer is that Carlos, Who took his leave of thee in Alcala, Who in the fervor of a youthful heart, Resolved, at some no distant time, to wake The golden age in Spain! Oh, the conceit, Though but a child's, was yet divinely fair!

Those dreams are past!

MARQUIS.

Said you, those dreams, my prince!

And were they only dreams?

CARLOS.

Oh, let me weep, Upon thy bosom weep these burning tears, My only friend! Not one have I--not one-- In the wide circuit of this earth,--not one Far as the sceptre of my sire extends, Far as the navies bear the flag of Spain, There is no spot--none--none, where I dare yield An outlet to my tears, save only this.

I charge thee, Roderigo! Oh, by all The hopes we both do entertain of heaven, Cast me not off from thee, my friend, my friend!

[POSA bends over him in silent emotion.

Look on me, Posa, as an orphan child, Found near the throne, and nurtured by thy love.

Indeed, I know not what a father is.

I am a monarch's son. Oh, were it so, As my heart tells me that it surely is, That thou from millions hast been chosen out To comprehend my being; if it be true, That all-creating nature has designed In me to reproduce a Roderigo, And on the morning of our life attuned Our souls' soft concords to the selfsame key; If one poor tear, which gives my heart relief, To thee were dearer than my father's favor----

MARQUIS.

Oh, it is dearer far than all the world!

CARLOS.

I'm fallen so low, have grown so poor withal, I must recall to thee our childhood's years,-- Must ask thee payment of a debt incurred When thou and I were scarce to boyhood grown.

Dost thou remember, how we grew together, Two daring youths, like brothers, side by side?

I had no sorrow but to see myself Eclipsed by thy bright genius. So I vowed, Since I might never cope with thee in power, That I would love thee with excess of love.

Then with a thousand shows of tenderness, And warm affection, I besieged thy heart, Which cold and proudly still repulsed them all.

Oft have I stood, and--yet thou sawest it never Hot bitter tear-drops br.i.m.m.i.n.g in mine eyes, When I have marked thee, pa.s.sing me unheeded, Fold to thy bosom youths of humbler birth.

"Why only these?" in anguish, once I asked-- "Am I not kind and good to thee as they?"

But dropping on thy knees, thine answer came, With an unloving look of cold reserve, "This is my duty to the monarch's son!"

MARQUIS.

Oh, spare me, dearest prince, nor now recall Those boyish acts that make me blush for shame.

CARLOS.

I did not merit such disdain from thee-- You might despise me, crush my heart, but never Alter my love. Three times didst thou repulse The prince, and thrice he came to thee again, To beg thy love, and force on thee his own.

At length chance wrought what Carlos never could.

Once we were playing, when thy shuttlec.o.c.k Glanced off and struck my aunt, Bohemia's queen, Full in the face! She thought 'twas with intent, And all in tears complained unto the king.

The palace youth were summoned on the spot, And charged to name the culprit. High in wrath The king vowed vengeance for the deed: "Although It were his son, yet still should he be made A dread example!" I looked around and marked Thee stand aloof, all trembling with dismay.

Straight I stepped forth; before the royal feet I flung myself, and cried, "'Twas I who did it; Now let thine anger fall upon thy son!"

MARQUIS.

Ah, wherefore, prince, remind me?

CARLOS.

Hear me further!

Before the face of the a.s.sembled court, That stood, all pale with pity, round about, Thy Carlos was tied up, whipped like a slave; I looked on thee, and wept not. Blow rained on blow; I gnashed my teeth with pain, yet wept I not!

My royal blood streamed 'neath the pitiless lash; I looked on thee, and wept not. Then you came, And fell half-choked with sobs before my feet: "Carlos," you cried, "my pride is overcome; I will repay thee when thou art a king."

MARQUIS (stretching forth his hand to CARLOS).

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The Works of Frederick Schiller Part 278 summary

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