The Works of Frederick Schiller Part 307

And the king's undisturbed tranquillity Is, in itself, sufficient to destroy The rumors set on foot by calumny.

KING.

What! Rumors! and of me! among my subjects!

DOMINGO.

All falsehood, sire! Naught but the vilest falsehood!

I'll swear 'tis false! Yet what's believed by all, Groundless and unconfirmed although it be, Works its effect, as sure as truth itself.

KING.

Not in this case, by heaven!

DOMINGO.

A virtuous name Is, after all, my liege, the only prize Which queens and peasants' wives contest together.

KING.

For which I surely have no need to tremble.

[He looks doubtingly at DOMINGO. After a pause.

Priest, thou hast something fearful to impart.

Delay it not. I read it plainly stamped In thy ill-boding looks. Then out with it, Whate'er it be. Let me no longer tremble Upon the rack. What do the people say?

DOMINGO.

The people, sire, are liable to err, Nay err a.s.suredly. What people think Should not alarm the king. Yet that they should Presume so far as to indulge such thoughts----

KING.

Why must I beg this poisonous draught so long?

DOMINGO.

The people often muse upon that month Which brought your majesty so near the grave, From that time, thirty weeks had scarce elapsed, Before the queen's delivery was announced.

[The KING rises and rings the bell. DUKE ALVA enters. DOMINGO alarmed.

I am amazed, your majesty!

KING (going towards ALVA).

Toledo!

You are a man--defend me from this priest!

DOMINGO (he and DUKE ALVA exchange embarra.s.sed looks. After a pause).

Could we have but foreseen that this occurrence Would be avenged upon its mere relater.

KING.

Said you a b.a.s.t.a.r.d? I had scarce, you say, Escaped the pangs of death when first she felt She should, in nature's time, become a mother.

Explain how this occurred! 'Twas then, if I Remember right, that you, in every church, Ordered devotions to St. Dominick, For the especial wonder he vouchsafed.

On one side or the other, then, you lie!

What would you have me credit? Oh, I see Full plainly through you now! If this dark plot Had then been ripe your saint had lost his fame.

ALVA.

This plot?

KING.

How can you with a harmony So unexampled in your very thoughts Concur, and not have first conspired together?

Would you persuade me thus? Think you that I Perceived not with what eagerness you pounced Upon your prey? With what delight you fed Upon my pain,--my agony of grief?

Full well I marked the ardent, burning zeal With which the duke forestalled the mark of grace I destined for my son. And how this priest Presumed to fortify his petty spleen With my wrath's giant arm! I am, forsooth, A bow which each of you may bend at pleasure But I have yet a will. And if I needs Must doubt--perhaps I may begin with you.

ALVA.

Reward like this our truth did ne'er expect.

KING.

Your truth! Truth warns of apprehended danger.

'Tis malice that speaks only of the past.

What can I gain by your officiousness?

Should your suspicion ripen to full truth, What follows but the pangs of separation, The melancholy triumphs of revenge?

But no: you only fear--you feed me with Conjectures vague. To h.e.l.l's profound abyss You lead me on, then flee yourself away.

DOMINGO.

What other proofs than these are possible, When our own eyes can scarcely trust themselves?

KING (after a long pause, turning earnestly and solemnly towards DOMINGO).

The grandees of the realm shall be convened, And I will sit in judgment. Then step forth In front of all, if you have courage for it, And charge her as a strumpet. She shall die-- Die without mercy--and the prince, too, with her!

But mark me well: if she but clear herself That doom shall fall on you. Now, dare you show Honor to truth by such a sacrifice?

Determine. No, you dare not. You are silent.

Such is the zeal of liars!

ALVA (who has stood at a distance, answers coldly and calmly).

I will do it.

KING (turns round with astonishment and looks at the DUKE for a long time without moving).

That's boldly said! But thou hast risked thy life In stubborn conflicts for far less a prize.

Has risked it with a gamester's recklessness-- For honor's empty bubble. What is life To thee? I'll not expose the royal blood To such a madman's power, whose highest hope Must be to yield his wretched being up With some renown. I spurn your offer. Go; And wait my orders in the audience chamber.

[Exeunt.

SCENE V.

The KING alone.

Now give me, gracious Providence! a man.

Thou'st given me much already. Now vouchsafe me A man! for thou alone canst grant the boon.

Thine eye doth penetrate all hidden things Oh! give me but a friend: for I am not Omniscient like to thee. The ministers Whom thou hast chosen for me thou dost know-- And their deserts: and as their merits claim, I value them. Their subjugated vices, Coerced by rein severe, serve all my ends, As thy storms purify this nether world.

I thirst for truth. To reach its tranquil spring, Through the dark heaps of thick surrounding error, Is not the lot of kings. Give me the man, So rarely found, of pure and open heart, Of judgment clear, and eye unprejudiced, To aid me in the search. I cast the lots.

And may I find that man, among the thousands Who flutter in the sunshine of a court.

[He opens an escritoire and takes out a portfolio.

After turning over the leaves a long time.