 | Philip |  |
ACT THE FOURTH.
SCENE THE FIRST.
Carlos.Car.
Shadows of night, far more than beams of day,
Suiting the horrors of this guilty palace,
With mournful joy I witness your return!
37
Finds intermission: but that, for a time,
I lose the sight of faces that appal me.
Here did Elvira pledge herself to meet me
In Isabella's name. The cause I know not.
What profound silence! ... mid their gnawing cares,
Spite of remorse, and spite of dark suspicion,
Calm sleep descends on overshadowing wing
To seal the eyes of tyrants and of traitors!
That sleep, that, like a faithless parasite,
Avoids the eyes of innocence oppressed!
But sleepless nights to me are not unwelcome:
I hold communion with the dear impression
Of all that's fair and virtuous. 'Tis my solace
Here to return where last I parted from her,
And heard expressions, that in one swift moment
Gave me both life and death. Ah, far less wretched,
But far more criminal, than heretofore,
I deem myself since that eventful meeting ...
Whence does this visionary horror rise?
Is it the pain that wrings a guilty conscience?
Yet wherefore? How have I been criminal?
I have given utterance: and who that felt
Such throes of passion ever could conceal them?
I hear, or seem to hear, approaching footsteps.
Elivira comes ... ah, no! what deafening clamour!
Who is't approaches? What a flash of torches!
Armed, and towards me? Traitors, advance ...
38
SCENE THE SECOND.
Soldiers, with Arms and Torches.Philip, Carlos.
Car.
Oh, heavens!
My father, with so many arm'd attendants?
Phi.
At night, alone, arm'd, and in these apartments,
What art thou doing? what dost meditate?
Whither art going? Speak.
Car.
... What shall I say?
The arms I grasp'd at the supposed approach
Of bloody ruffians, in my father's presence
Fall from my hands. Dost thou conduct them? Thou,
My father? At thy will dispose of me.
But tell me, was it needful to use pretexts?
And such as these? Ah, father! pretexts are
Unworthy of a king; apologies
From my lips now were only more unworthy.
Phi.
Dost add presumption to thy other crimes?
Display it then, for evermore it is
The sure attendant of consummate guilt.
Thou throw'st a cloak of ill-assumed respect
Over thy faithless and ambitious nature;
Thou dost not seek to palliate thy offences:
To give full vent to thy atrocious rage
Would better suit thy purpose. Pour it out,
The deadly poison that thy heart contains.
With a magnanimous audacity
Confess at once each machination dire,
39
Car.
What have I to confess? Spare me, oh father,
These useless outrages. Chuse at thy will
What torture suits thee best; if it please thee,
I question not its justice.
Phi.
By what means,
In such an unripe age, hast thou attain'd
To this perfection of atrocity?
How hast thou so consummately acquired
The art of wickedness, that, by thy king,
Caught in this monstrous crime, thou wear'st the mien
Of innocence?
Car.
Where did I learn it, father?
Born in thy palace ...
Phi.
Villain, thou wert born there
To my disgrace and shame!
Car.
Why dost thou doubt
That shame to wipe away? who knows it not?
Thou thirstest for the life-blood of thy son?
Phi.
My son art thou!
Car.
But what have I committed?
Phi.
Ask'st thou that question? ask'st thou it of me?
Does no compunction agonize thy heart?
Ah, no! Thou long, long since of such a weakness
Hast got clear riddance. 'Tis a pang thou know'st not;
Except thou feel it, since in thought alone,
And not in act, thou art a parricide.
Car.
A parricide! What do I hear? A parricide?
Thyself dost not believe it: what suspicion,
What probability, what proof, hast thou?
40
Suspicion, probability, and proof,
Thy contumelious aspect yields them all.
Car.
Oh, father, father, do not drive me on
Those holiest of bounds to violate,
Which Heaven, which nature, and the laws, have placed
Between a king and subject, son and father.
Phi.
Thy sacrilegious character long since
Has passed those bounds. What do I say? those bounds
Were never binding on thy froward nature.
Use not, for ill they suit thee, any longer
The pompous phrases of a high-soul'd virtue.
At once confess to me thy many plots
Projected and accomplished. Speak, what fear'st thou?
That I am less magnanimous than thou vile?
If thou wilt speak the truth, the whole truth, hope;
If thou equivocate, or be silent, fear.
Car.
I speak the truth; 'tis thou compell'st me to it.
I know myself too well ever to fear;
And thee too well I know ever to hope.
A luckless gift, take thou my life, for thine
It is to take; my honour is my own,
Thou gav'st it not, nor canst thou take it from me.
Guilty I should be, could I stoop to own
A guilt to which my nature is a stranger.
Thou shalt here see me breathe my last; a death
Lingering, opprobrious, full of agonies,
Do thou prepare. Death, in its direst shape,
Cannot degrade me, cannot make me tremble.
Thee, thee alone, and not myself, I pity.
41
Presumptuous youth! and dar'st thou, to thy king,
Thus give account of thy misdeeds?
Car.
Account?
Thou hatest me, that is my sole misdeed;
Thirstest to have my blood, my only crime:
Thou art absolute, this constitutes thy right.
Phi.
Guards, mark me, he is your prisoner.
Car.
The reply
Is this, usual to tyrants. Here's my arm,
I yield it to the fetters: here my breast,
I bare it to thy sword. Dost hesitate?
Hast only learned to-day to play the tyrant?
Day after day thy reign is registered
In characters indelible of blood.
Phi.
Guards, drag him from my presence; and confine him
In yon adjacent tower's profoundest dungeon.
Death to the slave that listens to his pleadings.
Car.
Thou need'st not fear, thy minions emulate
In cruelty their king.
Phi.
Drag him by force;
By force and violence drag him from my presence.
SCENE THE THIRD.
Isabella, Philip.Isa.
Oh, heavens! what do I see?
Phi.
What ails thee, lady?
Isa.
Throughout the palace shrieks of fear resound.
Phi.
Perchance, thou hast heard the cry of fear? ...
Isa.
Alas!
42
Phi.
Thine eyes deceived thee not.
Isa.
Thy only son?
Phi.
Does my wife tremble and wax pale to see it?
Isa.
I tremble!
Phi.
And 'tis not without a cause.
Thy trembling ... is ... to me ... no light assurance ...
Of thy affection ... For thy husband ... fear'st thou?
But reassure thy heart, the peril's vanished.
Isa.
Peril? ... and how?
Phi.
Peril most imminent:
But now my life is in security.
Isa.
Thy life? ...
Phi.
To thee so dear, and so essential,
Is safe.
Isa.
The traitor?
Phi.
Shall have punishment
Due to his crime. To infatuated pity
Think not that I again shall yield my heart.
That time is past; and now I hear alone
The austere and importuning voice of justice.
Isa.
What is the plot?
Phi.
Oh, Heaven! perhaps I alone
Was not its object. He who thirsts to shed
The life-blood of a father, if he hate
His father's wife, as much as he hates him,
Would little scruple, by one master stroke,
To end both lives at once.
Isa.
My life? what say'st thou?
Alas! The prince ...
Phi.
Ungrateful as he is,
Forgets no less thy benefits than mine.
43
And leave to me the important trust t'assure
Thy peace and mine at once.
SCENE THE FOURTH.
Isabella.Isa.
What accents, what an aspect! I am palsied,
And scarcely can tell where or what I am!
What did he say? what did he not say? ah!
Has he my love detected? no, no; that
Yet in the inmost chambers of my breast
In safety lies. Yet what a piercing look,
Flashing with indignation, he fixed on me!
Alas! he afterwards did speak to me
Of father's wife ... what said he of my peace?
What said I in reply? Named I the prince?
Oh, what cold horror shoots through all my veins!
Where is he gone? and what does he project?
Meanwhile what am I doing? I will try
To follow him: but, oh! the power is wanting.
SCENE THE FIFTH.
Gomez, Isabella.Gom.
Pardon my too great boldness; but I sought,
And here expected to have found, the king.
Isa.
He quitted me this instant.
Gom.
I'm compell'd
To seek him then elsewhere. Undoubtedly
He feels impatient the event to know.
Isa.
Event? a moment stay: say what thou meanest ...
44
If thou hast spoken to him, he has told thee
His doubtful expectation of the sentence
About to be pronounced.
Isa.
No: but to me,
He, in obscure and most ambiguous terms,
Hinted of treason.
Gom.
Did he not tell thee, then,
The traitor's name?
Isa.
The prince ...
Gom.
Thou know'st it all.
I from the council come ...
Isa.
What council? whence?
Alas! what tidings dost thou bring to him?
Gom.
The mighty business was discuss'd at length,
And with one voice at length it was concluded.
Isa.
What? Speak? ...
Gom.
'Tis written in this scroll—the sentence.
The royal signature alone is wanting.
Isa.
The tenor of it then ...
Gom.
Is death.
Isa.
Assassins!
Death? and of what offence is he convicted?
Gom.
Did, then, the king conceal it from thee?
Isa.
Yes.
He spoke it not.
Gom.
Th'offence of parricide.
Isa.
Carlos! oh, heavens!
Gom.
The father is the accuser.
Isa.
The father? ... and what proofs can he adduce?
False proofs. Ah, surely, there are other crimes
From me concealed. Tell me his real trespass.
Gom.
His real trespass? If thou dost not know it,
45
Might risk my life.
Isa.
Alas! what dost thou say?
Art apprehensive that I shall betray thee?
Gom.
Further disclosure would betray the king.
But whence arises such an anxious wish
To investigate the truth?
Isa.
I? ... I am urged
By curiosity alone.
Gom.
But tell me,
What interest hast thou in this transaction?
In imminent danger is the prince, perhaps
Will fall a victim to it. But to him
What tie, save that of father's wife, can bind thee?
Thy interests are not injured by his death.
Rather to children who from thee may spring
It clears the passage to the throne. Attend.
In part, at least, of Carlos's trangressions,
The first, and real origin, is love.
Isa.
What say'st thou?
Gom.
Love, with which the king beholds thee.
Yes, it would please him far more to behold
A son of thine inheriting his throne,
Than e'er to see his successor in Carlos.
Isa.
I breathe again. What base regards in me
Presum'st thou to imagine?
Gom.
I presume
The feelings of my monarch to express:
They are not, no, such are not mine; but I ...
Isa.
'Tis true, then, that which I could ne'er suspect,
The father ... yes, the father ... hates his son?
Gom.
Ah, lady, how much do I pity thee,
46
The king.
Isa.
But, ah! in whom then may I trust?
Thou perhaps ...
Gom.
Since pity I behold in thee,
That profound silence which oppresses me
For once I lay aside. 'Tis too, too true,
The prince is guilty of no other crime
But that of being son of such a father.
Isa.
Thou mak'st me shudder.
Gom.
I am stricken, lady,
With no less horror than thyself. Dost know
Whence this unnatural hate derives its source?
From envy.—Philip's simulated virtue
Cannot endure th'upbraiding spectacle
Of undissembled virtue in a son.
Too great a contrast to himself he sees him;
And, impious in his envy, he prefers
To that superiority his death.
Isa.
Unnatural father! but since it condemns
To death the guiltless, I esteem the council
More guilty than the king.
Gom.
To such a king
What council could oppose itself? Th'accuser
Sits on the throne: the accusation's false:
Each knows this; but each, trembling for himself,
Silent in mercy's cause, affirms its truth;
On us the blot of guilty judgment falls;
Vile instruments of cruelty in power—
Shuddering we are so: but in vain we shudder;
He who dared question what the monarch wishes,
Would quickly fall a victim of his vengeance.
Isa.
Can that be truth which now I hear? struck dumb
47
Doth there remain? Must he unjustly perish?
Gom.
The monarch in profound dissimulation
More than in aught is skilled. He will affect
To hesitate at first; a vain display
Of pity and of grief will doubtless make,
Perhaps for a time procrastinate decision.
Fool will he be, that, in that well-feigned struggle,
Believes that real grief or pity enter;
That in that heart, because it may delay,
Profound resentment swerves from its fix'd purpose.
Isa.
Ah! if thou have not equally with him
Thy soul by crimes indurated, do thou,
Ah, do thou, Gomez, be compassionate.
Gom.
What can I do?
Isa.
Perchance ...
Gom.
With fruitless tears,
But carefully concealed, I may embalm
The memory of that murdered innocent.
More I cannot perform.
Isa.
Of such dire guilt,
Who ever saw, who ever heard, a deed?
Gom.
If it were possible to save the prince,
Prompt would I be to sacrifice myself;
To this bear witness, Heaven: With fell remorse
In all its bitterness, the consequence
Of fatal friendship with so dark a tyrant,
My bosom with excruciating pangs
Is gnaw'd; but ...
Isa.
If it be sincere in thee,
This deep remorse, thou mayest befriend him still;
Yes, thou may'st do it, and not risk thyself.
The king suspects thee not; thou may'st afford him
48
Th'assistance would betray? Nay, who can tell
But that in future moments of compunction,
Philip, the generous boldness may reward
Of one, that saved his glory and his son.
Gom.
And if, perchance, I dared do this, think'st thou
That Carlos would consent? How proud he is
Thou knowest. Already I foresee his rage,
In hearing only the mere name of flight
And sentence. Ah! each messenger of death,
That haughty and unconquerable nature
Would seek in vain t'intimidate. E'en now
I see him obstinately bent on death.
Further, all counsel and all aid from me
Would be at once suspicious and offensive.
He deems me the confederate of the king.
Isa.
Is there no other obstacle? Contrive
For me to see him; to his prison guide me:
Thou surely hast access; I fondly hope
To persuade him to flight. Refuse me not
A favour so immense. As yet the night
Is not far spent. Meanwhile do thou the means
For his escape prepare; do thou delay
The presentation of the fatal sentence,
Which, perhaps, the king doth not expect so soon.
Thou hearest, ... Do not disappoint my prayers;
In such a cause the heavens shall be propitious:
I do conjure thee to exert thyself.
Gom.
Who could refuse so merciful an office?
At all events the effort will I make.
Advance. The heavens suffer not to perish,
Except those victims who deserve to perish.
| Philip | |