University of Virginia Library

ACT the Second.

SCENE the First.

Don John of Austria.
SCENE, An ORANGE GROVE.
D. J.
Why should dull Law rule Nature, who first made
That Law, by which her self is now betray'd:
E're man's Corruptions made him wretched, he
Was born most noble that was born most free:
Each of himself was Lord; and unconfin'd
Obey'd the dictates of his Godlike mind.
Law was an Innovation brought in since,
When Fools began to love Obedience,
And call'd their slavery Safety and defence.
My Glorious Father got me in his heat,
When all he did was eminently great.
When Warlike Belgia felt his Conquering power,
And the proud Germans Own'd him Emperour.
Why should it be A Stain upon my Blood
Because I came not in the Common Road,
But Born obscure and so more like a God.
No; Though his Diadem Another wear,
At least to all his Pleasures I'le be Heir.
Here I should meet my Eboli, my fair
[Enter Eboli.
She comes: As the Bright Cyprian Goddess moves,
When Loose and In her Chariot drawn by Doves,
She rides to meet the Warlike God she Loves.

Ebol.
Alas, my Lord, you know not with what fear
And Hazard, I am come to meet you here.

D. J.
O banish it: Lovers like us should fly,
And mounted by their wishes soar on high,
Where softest extasies and Transports are,
While fear alone disturbs the Lower Ayre.

Eboli.
But who is safe when Eyes are Every where?
Or if we could with happiest secresy
Enjoy these sweets; Oh whither shall we fly
T'Escape that sight whence we can nothing hide!

D. J.
Alas lay this Religion now Aside,
I'le show thee one more pleasant, that which Jove
Set forth to the old World, when from above
He came himself and taught his Mortals Love.

Eboli.
Will nothing then Quench your unruly flame?
My Lord, you might consider who I am.

D. J.
I know y'are her I love, what should I more
Regard?—

Ebol.
—By heaven he's brave—
[aside.
But can so poor
A Thought possess your breast, to think that I
Will brand my name with Lust and Infamy.

D. J.
Those that are noblest born, should highest prize
Loves sweets; Oh let me fly into those Eyes,
There's something in 'em leads my Soul astray,
As he who in a Negromancer's glass
Beholds his wish't for fortune by him pass,
Yet still with greedy Eyes—
Pursues the Vision as it glides away.

Eboli.
Protect me Heaven, I dare no longer stay,
Your looks speak danger: I feel something too
That bids me fly, yet will not let me go.

[half aside
D. J.
Take Vows and Prayers if ever I prove false,
See at your feet the humble Austria falls.

[Kneels.
Eboli.
Rise, Rise
[Austria rises.
My Lord why would you thus deceive?

[Sighs.
D. J.
How many ways to wound me you contrive;
Speak, wouldst thou have an Empire at thy feet?
Say, wouldst thou rule the world? I'le Conquer it.

Eboli.
No above Empire far I could prize you,
If you would be but—

D. J.
—What?

Eboli.
—For ever true.

D. J.
That thou may'st ne're have cause to fear those harms,
I'le be confin'd for ever in thy Arms;
Nay, I'le not one short minute from thee stray,
My self I'le on thy tender bosome lay,
Till in its warmth I'm melted all away.

Enter Garcia.
Gar.
Madam, Your Lord—

Eboli.
—Oh! fly or I'm undone:

Kisses her Hand.
D. J.
Must I without my blessing then be gone?

Eboli.
Think you that this discretion merits one?

[pulls it back.
D. J.
I'm aw'd—
As a sick wretch that on his death-bed lyes
Loath with his friends to part, just as he dies,
Thus sends his Soul in wishes from his eyes.
Exit D. J.

Eboli.
Oh Heaven! what charms in youth and vigour are?
Yet he in Conquest is not gone too far;
Too easily I'le not my self resign,
E're I am his, I'le make him surely mine;
Draw him by subtile baits into the Trap,
Till so too far got in to make escape,
About him swiftly the soft snare I'le cast,
And when I have him there I'le hold him fast.

Enter Rui. Gomez.
R. Go.
Thus unaccompany'd I subtilly range
The Solitary paths of dark revenge:
The fearful Deer in herds to Coverts run,
Whilst Beasts of prey affect to Roam alone.

Eboli.
Ah! my dear Lord, how do you spend your hours?
You little think what my poor heart endures;
Whilst with your absence tortur'd, I in vain
Pant after joys I ne're can hope to gain.

R. Go.
You cannot my unkindness sure upbraid;
You should forgive those faults your self have made:
Remember you the task you gave?—

Eboli.
—'Tis true,
Your pardon, for I do remember now:
[Sighs
If I forgot, 'twas love had all my mind,
And 'tis no sin I hope to be too kind.

R. Go.
How happy am I in a faithful Wife!
Oh! thou most pretious blessing of my Life!

Eboli.
Do's then success attend upon your toyl?
I long to see you Revel in the spoyl.

R. Go.
What strictest diligence could do, I've done,
T'incense an angry Father 'gainst his Son;
I to advantage told him all that past,
Describ'd with Art, each Am'rous glance they cast;
So that this night he shun'd the marriage bed,
Which through the Court has various murmurs spread.
Enter the King attended by Posa.
See where he comes with fury in his Eyes,
Kind Heaven but grant the storm may higher rise;
If't grow too loud I'le lurk in some dark Cell,
And laugh to hear my Magick work so well.

King.
What's all my Glory? all my Pomp? how poor
Is fading greatness, or how vain is pow'r:
Where all the mighty Conquests I have seen?
I who o're Nations have Victorious been,
Now cannot quell one little Foe within.
Curst Jealousie; that poysons all Loves sweets,
How heavy on my heart th'invader sits:
Oh! Gomez thou hast given my mortal wound:

R. Go.
What is't does so your royal thoughts confound?
A King his power unbounded ought to have,
And ruling all, should not be passions slave.

King.
Thou counsell'st well, but art no stranger sure
To the sad cause of what I now endure.
Knowst thou what Poison thou didst lately give?
And do'st not wonder to behold me live?

R. Go.
I only did as by my duty ty'd,
And never study'd any thing beside.

King.
I do not blame thy duty or thy Care;
Quickly what past between 'em more declare.
How greedily my Soul to ruine flyes,
As he who in a Feavour burning lyes,
First of his Friends does for a drop implore,
Which tasted once unable to give 'ore:
Knows 'tis his bane, yet still thirsts after more.
On then—

R. Go.
—I fear that you'l Interpret wrong!
'Tis true, they gaz'd, but 'twas not very long.

King.
Lye still my heart; not long was't that you said?

R. G.
No longer then they in your presence staid.

King.
No longer! why a Soul in less time flyes
To Heaven: and they have chang'd theirs at their Eyes.
Hence abject fears begone: she's all divine:
Speak Friends, can Angels in perfection sin?

R. Go.
Angels that shine above do oft bestow
Their Influence on poor Mortals here below.

King.
But Carlos is my Son, and alwaies near;
Seems to move with me in my glorious Sphear.
True, she may showr promiscuous blessings down
On slaves that gape for what falls from a Crown.
But when too kindly she his brightness sees,
It robs my Lustre to add more to his:
But oh I dare not think—
That those Eyes should at least so humble be,
To stoop at him when they had vanquisht me.

Posa.
Sir, I am proud to think I know the Prince,
That he of Virtue has too great a sence
To cherish but a thought beyond the bound
Of strictest duty: He to me has Own'd
How much was to his former passion due,
Yet still confess'd he above all priz'd you.

R. Go.
You better reconcile Sir, then advise;
Be not more Charitable then y'are wise:
The King is sick, and we should give him Ease,
But first find out the depth of his Disease:
Too sudden cures have oft pernicious grown,
We must not heal up festered wounds too soon.

King.
By this then you a power would o're me gain;
Wounding to let me linger in the pain:
I'm stung, and won't the torture long endure;
Serpents that wound, have blood those wounds to cure.

R. Go.
Good Heaven forbid that I should ever dare
To Question Virtue in a Queen so fair.
Though she her Eyes cast on her Glorious Sun,
Men oft see Treasures and yet covet none.

King.
Think not to blind me with dark Ironies,
The Truth disguis'd in Obscure Contraries.
No, I will trace his windings, All her dark
And subtlest paths, Each little Action mark:
Enter Queen Att. Henrietta.
If she prove false as yet I fear she dyes:
Ha! here! oh let me turn away my Eyes.
For all around she'l her bright beams display:
Should I to gaze on the wild Meteor stay,
'Spight of my self I shall be led astray.

Exit the King Attend. looking at the Queen.
Queen.
How scornfully he is withdrawn!
Sure e're his Love hee'd let me know his power:
As Heaven oft Thunders 'ere it sends a shower.
This Spanish Gravity is very odd
All things are by severity so Aw'd,
That little Love dares hardly peep abroad.

Henr.
Alas, what can you from old age expect,
When frail uneasie men themselves neglect?
Some little warmth perhaps may be behind,
Though such as in extinguisht fires you'l find:
Where some remains of heat the ashes hold,
Which (if for more you open) staight are cold.

Queen.
'Twas Interest and Safety of the State;
Interest that bold Imposer on our fate:
That alwaies to dark Ends misguides our wills,
And with false happiness smooths o're our ills.
It was by that unhappy France was led,
When though by Contract I should Carlos wed,
I was an Offering made to Philip's Bed.
[Henr. sighs.
Why sigh'st thou Henrietta?

Henriett.
Who is it can
Know your sad fate and yet from grief refrain?
With pleasure oft I've heard you smiling tell
Of Carlos Love.

Queen.
—And did it please you well?
In that brave Prince's Courtship there did meet
All that we could obliging call or sweet.
At every point he with advantage stood:
Fierce as a Lyon if provok'd abroad;
Else, soft as Angels, Charming as a God.

Henr.
One so Accomplisht! and who lov'd you too!
With what resentments must he part with you?
Methinks I pity him.—But oh in vain!
He's both above my pity and my pain.

[aside.
Queen.
What means this strange disorder?

Henr.
—Yonder view,
Enter D. Carlos. Posa.
That which I fear will discompose you too.

Queen.
Alas! the Prince! there to my mind appears
Something that in me moves unusual fears:
Away Henrietta.—

[offers to go.
D. Car.
—Why would you begone?
Is Carlos sight ungrateful to you grown.
If 'tis, speak. In Obedience I'le retire.

Qu.
No, you may speak, but must advance no nigher.

D. Car.
Must I then at that Awful distance sue,
As our forefathers were Compel'd to do
When they petitions made at that great Shrine,
Where none but the High Priest might enter in?
Let me approach; I've nothing for your Ear,
But what's so pure it might be Offer'd there.

Qu.
Too long 'tis dangerous for me here to stay;
If you must speak, proceed: What would you say?
Carlos kneels.
Nay this strange Ceremony pray give ore.

D. Car.
Was I n'er in this posture seen before?
Ah can your cruel heart so soon resign
All sence of these sad sufferings of mine?
To your more just remembrance if you can
Recall how fate seem'd kindly to ordain,
That once you should be mine: which I believ'd,
Though now alas! I find I was deceiv'd.

Queen.
Then Sir you should your Fate, not me upbraid.

D. Carl.
I will not say y'ave broke the vows you made,
Only implore you would not quite forget
The Wretch ya've oft seen dying at your feet;
And now no other favour begs to have,
Then such Kind pity as becomes your slave.
For 'midst your highest Joyes, without a Crime
At least you now and then may think of him.

Queen.
If e're you lov'd me you would this forbear;
It is a Language which I dare not hear:
My Heart and Faith become your Fathers right,
All other passions I must now forget.

D. Car.
Can then a Crown and Majesty dispence
Upon your heart such mighty Influence,
That I must be for ever banish'd thence.
Had I been rais'd to all the heights of power,
In Triumph Crown'd the Worlds great Emperour:
Of all its riches, all its State possest,
Yet you should still have govern'd in my breast.

Qu.
In vain on her you obligations lay,
Who wants not will, but power to repay.

Henriett.
Yet had you Henrietta's heart, you would
At least strive to afford him all you could.

[aside.
D. Carl.
Oh say not you want pow'r, you may with one
Kind look, pay doubly all I've undergone.
And knew you but the Innocence I bear,
How pure, how spotless all my wishes are;
You would not scruple to supply my want,
When all I'l ask you may so safely grant.

Qu.
I know not what to grant, too well I find
That still at least I cannot be unkind.

D. Car.
Afford me then that little which I crave:

Qu.
You shall not want what I may let you have.

Gives her hand sighing.
D. Carl.
Like one—
That sees a heap of Gems before him cast,
Thence to chuse any that may please him best:
From the rich Treasure whilst I choice should make,
Dazzel'd withal I know not where to take:
I would be rich—

Qu.
—Nay you too far encroach,
I fear I have already giv'n too much.

[Turns from him.
D. Carl.
Oh take not back again th'appearing bliss;
How difficult's the path to happiness!
Whilst up the Precipice we climb with pain,
One little slip throwes us quite down again.
Stay, Madam, though you nothing more can give,
Then just enough to keep a wretch alive;
At least remember how I've lov'd—

Qu.
—I will.

D. Car.
That was so kind, that I must beg more still.
Let me love on, it is a very poor
And easie grant, yet I'l request no more.

Qu.
Do you believe that you can love retain,
And not expect to be belov'd again.

D. Carl.
Yes I will love, and think I'm happy too,
So long as I can find that you are so:
All my disquiets banish from my breast;
I will endeavour to do so at least.
[Sighing deeply.
Or if I can't my miseries out-wear,
They never more shall come t'offend your Ear.

Qu.
Love then Brave Prince, whilst I'l thy Love admire
Gives her hand, which D. Carlos during all this speech kisses eagerly.
Yet keep the Fame so pure, such chast desire,
That without spot hereafter we above
May meet when we shall come all soul all love.
Till when—Oh whither am I run astray!
I grow too weak and must no longer stay:
For should I, the soft charm so strong would grow,
I find that I should want the power to go.

Exit Qu. & Henrietta.
D. Carl.
Oh Sweet—
If such transport be in a tast so small,
How blest must he be that possesses all!
Where am I Posa? Where's the Queen?

[standing amazed.
Posa.
—My Lord,
A while some respite to your heart afford,
The Queen's retir'd—

D. Carl.
—Retir'd! and did she then,
Just show me Heaven, to shut it in agen?
This little ease augments my pain the more;
For now, I'me more Impatient than before,
And have discover'd Riches, make me mad.

Posa.
But since those Treasures are not to be had,
You should correct desires that drive you on,
Beyond that duty which becomes a Son:
No longer let the Tyrant Love Invade,
The Brave may by themselves be happy made.
You to your Father now must all resign.

D. Carl.
But e're he rob'd me of her she was mine.
To be my Friend is all thou hast to do:
For half my miseries thou can'st not know:
Make my self happy! bid the damn'd do so;
Who in sad Flames, must be for ever tost,
Yet still in view of the lov'd Hea'vn th'ave lost.

[Exeunt.