University of Virginia Library

SCENE THE SECOND.

Isabella, Carlos.
Car.
Queen, is it thou? Who was thy guide? What cause
Hither conducted thee? Love, duty, pity?
How did'st thou gain admission?

Isa.
Wretched prince,
Thou know'st not yet the horrors of thy fate.
Thou as a parricide art stigmatized.
Thy sire himself accuses thee; to death
A mercenary council hath condemn'd thee;
Nothing is wanting to complete the sentence
But the assent of Philip.

Car.
Is that all—
That soon will follow.

Isa.
Art thou not o'erwhelm'd?

Car.
'Tis long since nought but death has been my choice.
Thou know'st it well, of whom I nothing asked
But leave to breathe my last where thou didst dwell.
'Tis hard—the horrible aspersion—hard!
Not unexpected. I'm compell'd to die;
And can I shudder if thou bring the tidings?

Isa.
Ah! if thou love me, do not talk of death.
Yet, for a short time, to th'emergency ...

Car.
Yield! ... now I fear that thou hast undertaken
The cruel office to degrade my nature.
My vengeful father hath deputed thee ...

Isa.
And canst thou think it, prince, that I am then
The minister of Philip's cruelty? ...

Car.
He may to this constrain thee, perhaps deceive thee.
But wherefore then has he permitted thee
To see me in this dungeon?

Isa.
Thinkest thou
That Philip knows it? That indeed were death.

Car.
What say'st thou? Nothing can escape his knowledge.
Who dares to violate his fierce commands?

Isa.
Gomez.

Car.
Oh, then, we are utterly undone!
What an abominable, fatal name
Hast thou pronounced! ...

Isa.
Thou deem'st of him unjustly.
He is not thy enemy.

Car.
If I believed
He were my friend, my countenance would burn
With shame, more than with anger.

Isa.
He alone
Feels pity for thy fate: to me confessed
Philip's atrocious plot.

Car.
Incautious queen!
Thou art too credulous! what hast thou done?
Why didst thou trust to such a feigned compassion?
Of th'impious king most impious minister,
If he spoke truth, 'twas with the truth to cheat thee.

Isa.
What could it profit him? Of his compassion
Undoubted proofs I quickly can display,
If thou wilt yield to my entreaties. He
By stealth conducted me to this recess;
Prepares the means of thy escape: 'twas I
That influenced him. No longer tarry, fly!
Fly from thy father, fly from death and me!

Car.
While thou hast time, ah, hasten from my presence.
Gomez, without his reasons, feigned not pity.
Into what snare art fallen! Now, oh queen,
Indeed I shudder! Now what doubt remains?
The secret of our love he knows it all—
The king—the cruel king!

Isa.
Ah, no! erewhile
Philip I saw, when, from his presence, thou,
By dint of force, wert dragg'd. He burn'd with rage.
Trembling I listened to him, not exempt
From fears like thine. But when in solitude
His converse I recall'd, I felt secure,
That, rather than of this, his fury taxed thee
With every other crime. To sum up all,
He charged thee, in connection with his own,
Of thirsting for my blood.

Car.
'Twould be a toil
That made me vile as he, yea, e'en more vile,
The dark perplexities to penetrate
Of guilt's inextricable labyrinth.
But, sure I am, that this thy embassy
Conceals some bad design. That which till now
He but suspected, by this deed of thine
He hopes to bring to a more certain proof.
But, be it what it may, quickly depart
From this disastrous place. Thy hope is vain,
Vain thy belief that Gomez wills to serve me,
Or, if he willed it, that I should consent.

Isa.
And must I then drag on my wretched days
Midst beings such as these? ...

Car.
'Tis too, too true!
Delay not now a moment: leave me; save me
From agonies insufferably keen!
Thy pity wounds me, since for thyself it feels not ...
Go, if thou hold life dear ...

Isa.
Life dear to me!

Car.
My honour, then, preserve it, and thy fame.

Isa.
And in such danger must I quit thee thus?

Car.
Ah, what avails it to expose thyself?
Thyself thou ruinest, and sav'st not me.
Virtue is spotted even by suspicion.
Ah! from the tyrant snatch the hellish joy
Of casting imputation on thy name.
Go—dry thy tears—and still thy heaving bosom.
With a dry eye, and an intrepid brow,
Hear of my death! To virtue's cause devote
The mournful days in which thou shalt outlive me.
And if among so many guilty creatures
Thou seekest consolation, one remains;
Perez, thou know'st him well, clandestinely
Will weep with thee. To him sometimes speak of me.
But go—depart! Ah, tempt me not to weep ...
Tear not my heart little by little thus!
I cannot bear it. Now farewell for ever!
I've need to summon all my fortitude
To meet the hour of ignominious death.