The Works of Frederick Schiller Part 340

ALVA.

There is besides appended to these letters The full concerted plan of all the war Which is to disunite from Spain's control The Netherlands forever. Naught omitted; The power and opposition close compared; All the resources accurately noted, Together with the maxims to be followed, And all the treaties which they should conclude.

The plan is fiendish, but 'tis no less splendid.

FERIA.

The deep, designing traitor!

ALVA.

And, moreover, There is allusion made, in these same letters, To some mysterious conference the prince Must with his mother hold upon the eve Preceding his departure.

FERIA.

That must be This very day.

ALVA.

At midnight. But for this I have already taken proper steps.

You see the case is pressing. Not a moment Is to be lost. Open the monarch's chamber.

FERIA.

Impossible! All entrance is forbidden.

ALVA.

I'll open then myself; the increasing danger Must justify my boldness.

[As he is on the point of approaching the door it opens, and the KING comes out.

FERIA.

'Tis himself.

SCENE IX.

The KING. The preceding.

All are alarmed at his appearance, fall back, and let him pa.s.s through them. He appears to be in a waking dream, like a sleep-walker. His dress and figure indicate the disorder caused by his late fainting. With slow steps he walks past the GRANDEES and looks at each with a fixed eye, but without recognizing any of them. At last he stands still, wrapped in thought, his eyes fixed on the ground, till the emotions of his mind gradually express themselves in words.

KING.

Restore me back the dead! Yes, I must have him.

DOMINGO (whispering to ALVA).

Speak to him, duke.

KING.

He died despising me!

Have him again I must, and make him think More n.o.bly of me.

ALVA (approaching with fear).

Sire!

KING (looking round the circle).

Who speaks to me!

Have you forgotten who I am? Why not Upon your knees, before your king, ye creatures!

Am I not still your king? I must command Submission from you. Do you all then slight me Because one man despised me?

ALVA.

Gracious king!

No more of him: a new and mightier foe Arises in the bosom of your realm.

FERIA.

Prince Carlos----

KING.

Had a friend who died for him; For him! With me he might have shared an empire.

How he looked down upon me! From the throne Kings look not down so proudly. It was plain How vain his conquest made him. His keen sorrow Confessed how great his loss. Man weeps not so For aught that's perishable. Oh, that he might But live again! I'd give my Indies for it!

Omnipotence! thou bring'st no comfort to me: Thou canst not stretch thine arm into the grave To rectify one little act, committed With hasty rashness, 'gainst the life of man.

The dead return no more. Who dare affirm That I am happy? In the tomb he dwells, Who scorned to flatter me. What care I now For all who live? One spirit, one free being, And one alone, arose in all this age!

He died despising me!

ALVA.

Our lives are useless!

Spaniards, let's die at once! E'en in the grave This man still robs us of our monarch's heart.

KING (sits down, and leans his head on his arm).

Oh! had he died for me! I loved him, too, And much. Dear to me was he as a son.

In his young mind there brightly rose for me A new and beauteous morning. Who can say What I had destined for him? He to me Was a first love. All Europe may condemn me, Europe may overwhelm me with its curse, But I deserved his thanks.

DOMINGO.

What spell is this?

KING.

And, say, for whom did he desert me thus?

A boy,--my son? Oh, no, believe it not!

A Posa would not perish for a boy; The scanty flame of friendship could not fill A Posa's heart. It beat for human kind.

His pa.s.sion was the world, and the whole course Of future generations yet unborn.

To do them service he secured a throne-- And lost it. Such high treason 'gainst mankind Could Posa e'er forgive himself? Oh, no; I know his feelings better. Not that he Carlos preferred to Philip, but the youth-- The tender pupil,--to the aged monarch.

The father's evening sunbeam could not ripen His novel projects. He reserved for this The young son's orient rays. Oh, 'tis undoubted, They wait for my decease.

ALVA.

And of your thoughts, Read in these letters strongest confirmation.

KING.

'Tis possible he may miscalculate.

I'm still myself. Thanks, Nature, for thy gifts; I feel within my frame the strength of youth; I'll turn their schemes to mockery. His virtue Shall be an empty dream--his death, a fool's.

His fall shall crush his friend and age together.

We'll test it now--how they can do without me.

The world is still for one short evening mine, And this same evening will I so employ, That no reformer yet to cone shall reap Another harvest, in the waste I'll leave, For ten long generations after me.

He would have offered me a sacrifice To his new deity--humanity!

So on humanity I'll take revenge.

And with his puppet I'll at once commence.