University of Virginia Library

SCENE THE FIRST.

Isa.
Love, apprehension, and flagitious hope,
My breast forsake. I, Philip's faithless wife,
Dare I behold with fondness Philip's son?
Yet who beholds that son, and loves him not?
A heart, though bold, humane; a lofty nature;
An intellect sublime; and, in a form
Most fair, a soul of correspondent worth.
Ah, why did Heaven and Nature make thee such?
Alas! why rave I thus? Do I intend,
By meditating thus on his perfections,
To tear his image from the deep recesses
Of my adoring heart? Oh, if a flame
So fatal in its consequences, were
By living man discover'd! Oh, if he
Suspected it! He sees me ever sad ...
'Tis true, most sad; yet evermore avoiding
The fascination of his thrilling presence.
And from Spain's austere palace well he knows
All joy is banish'd. Who can read my heart?
Oh that with other mortals I could vie
In ignorance! that, as I can deceive,
And shun the curious world, I could deceive,
And shun my own corroding consciousness.
Wretch that I am ... My only solace left
Are tears; and mine, alas, are tears of guilt.
But, that with less of risk I may indulge
My wretchedness, to some interior chamber
Let me retire in time ... Ah, who is this?
Carlos? ... Ah, let me fly! My every look,
My every word, might now betray me. Hence
With speed.