 | Don Carlos Prince of Spain |  |
ACT the Fifth.
SCENE the First.
Enter King Solus.King.
'Tis night: the season when the happy take
Repose, and only wretches are awake:
Now discontented Ghosts begin their rounds,
Haunt ruin'd Buildings and unwholsome Grounds:
Or at the Curtains of the restless wait,
To frighten 'em with some sad sale of fate.
When I would rest, I can no rest obtain;
The ills I've born ev'n o're my slumbers reign,
And in sad Dreams torment me o're again.
The fatal bus'ness is e're this begun:
I'm shock't, and start to think what I have done.
But I forget how I that Phillip am
So much for Constancy renown'd by fame:
Who through the Progress of my life, was ne're
By hopes transported, or depress'd by fear.
No, it is gone too far to be recall'd,
And stedfastness will make the Act extoll'd.
Enter Eboli in a Night-Gown.
Who! Eboli?
Ebol.
My Lord.
King.
Is the Deed done?
Ebol.
'Tis! and the Queen to seek repose is gone.
King.
Can she expect it? who allow'd me none!
No Eboli; her Dreams must be as full
Of horrour, and as Hellish as her Soul;
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Ebol.
She does.
King.
How were the tydings entertain'd?
Ebol.
O're all her Face young wandring blushes were,
Such as speak hopes too weak to conquer fear.—
But when confirm'd no Lover e're so kind,
She clasp'd me fast, caress't, and call'd me Friend:
Which Opportunity I took to give
The Poison; and till Day she cannot live.
King.
Quickly then to her: say that Carlos here
Waits to confirm his happiness with her.
Go: that my vengeance I may finish quite,
'Twould be imperfect should I lose the sight.
But to contrive that I may not be known,
And she may still mistake me for my Son:
Remove all Lights but that which may suffice
To let her see me scorn her when she dies.
Ebol.
You'l find her all in ruful sables clad,
With one dim Lamp that yields imperfect light,
Such as in Vaults assist the ghastly shade,
Where wretched Widows come to weep at Night:
Thus she resolves to die, or living mourn,
Till Carlos shall with Liberty return.
King.
Oh stedfast Sin! incorrigible Lust!
Not damn'd! it is impossible she must.
How do I long to see her in her pains,
The poys'nous Sulphur rowling through her Veins.
Enter D. John, and Attendants.
Who's there? my Brother!
D. John.
Yes Sir, and your Friend!
What can your Presence here so late intend?
King.
Oh Austria! Fate's at work; a Deed's in hand
Will put thy Youthful Courage to a stand.
Survey me: Do I look as heretofore?
D. John.
You look like King of Spain, and Lord of Pow'r:
Like one who still seeks Glory on the Wing;
You look as I would do, were I a King.
King.
A King! why I am more, I'm all that can
Be counted miserable in a man:
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I'le be as happy and as gay as Thou.
D. John.
No Sir! my happiness you cannot have!
Whilst to your abject passions thus a slave.
To know my ease you thoughts like mine must bring,
Be something less a man, and more a King.
King.
I'm growing so: 'Tis true that long I strove
With pleading Nature, combated with Love.
Those Witchcrafts that had bound my Soul so fast,
But now the Date of the Enchantment'ts past:
Before my rage like ruines down they fall,
And I mount up true Monarch o're e'm all.
D. John.
I know your Queen and Son y'have doom'd to die,
And fear by this the fatal hour is nigh.
Why would you cut a sure Succession off,
At which your Friends must grieve, and Foes will laugh.
As if since Age has from you took away
Increase, you'd grow malicious and destroy.
King.
Doubt it not Austria: Thou my Brother art,
And in my blood I'm certain hast a part.
Onely the Justice of my Vengeance own,
Th'art Heir of Spain, and my adopted Son.
D. John.
I must confess there in a Crown are charms,
Which I would Court in bloody Fields and Arms;
But in my Nephew's wrong I must decline,
Since he must be extinguish't e're I shine.
To mount a Throne o're Battlements I'd climb,
Where Death should wait on Me, not I on him.
Did you e're Love, or have you ever known
The mighty Value of so brave a Son?
King.
I guess'd I should be treated thus before;
I know it is thy Kindness, but no more:
Thou living free, alas, art easie grown,
And think'st all hearts as honest as thy own.
D. John.
Not Sir so easie! as I must be bold,
And speak what you perhaps wou'd have untold;
That y'are a slave to th'vilest that obey,
Such as Disgrace on Royal Favour lay:
And blindly follow as they lead astray.
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Best by familiarity Th'are known,
Yet shrink at frowns, but when you smile they fawn.
Th'are these have wrong'd you and abus'd your Ears,
Possest your Mind with false mis-grounded fears.
King.
Mis-grounded fears! why is there any Truth
In Womens Vowes, or Disobedient Youth!
I sooner would believe this World were Heav'n;
Where I have nought but Toyles and Torment met,
And never comfort yet to man was given:
But thou shalt see how my revenge I'le treat.
The SCENE drawes and discovers the Queen (alone) in mourning on her Couch with a Lamp by her.
Look where she sits as quiet and serene,
[Ironically.
As if she never had a Thought of sin.
In mourning her wrong'd Innocence to show;
Sh'has sworn't so oft that she believes it true.
O'rewhelm'd with sorrow she'l in darkness dwell,
So we have heard of Witches in a Cell,
Treating with Fiends and making Leagues with Hell.
[Q. rises, and comes towards him.
Queen.
My Lord! Prince Carlos? may it be believ'd!
Are my eyes blest? and am I not deceiv'd?
King.
My Queen! My Love I'm here—
[Embraces her.
Queen.
My Lord! the King!
This is surprizing Kindness, which you bring!
Can you believe me Innocent at last?
Methinks my griefs are half already past!
King.
O Tongue in nothing practis'd, but deceit;
Too well she knew him not to find the cheat:
Yes vile Incestuous Woman! it is I
The King! Look on me well, despair and die.
Queen.
Why had you not pronounc'd my doom before,
Since to affliction you could add no more:
Methinks Death is less welcome when I find,
You could but Counterfeit a look that's kind.
King.
No, now th'art fit for Death, had I believ'd
Thou could'st have been more wicked, thou had'st liv'd.
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But I perceiv'd thee early ripe for Hell:
And that of the reward thou might'st not miss,
This night th'ast drank thy bane, th'art poison'd: Yes
Thou art—
Queen.
—Then welcome everlasting bliss.
But e're I die, let me here make a Vow.
By Heav'n, and all I hope for there I'm true.
King.
Vows you had alwaies ready when you spoke,
How many of 'em have you made and broke?
Yet there's a pow'r that does your falshood hear,
A Just one too, and lets thee live to swear.
How comes it that above such mercy dwels,
To permit Sin, and make us Infidels?
Queen.
To permit Sin, and make us Infidels?
You have been ever so to all that's good,
My Innocence had else been understood.
At first your love was nothing but your pride;
When I arriv'd to be the Prince's Bride,
You then a Kind Indulgent Father were:
But finding me Unfortunately fair,
Thought me a prize too rich to be possest
By him, and forc't your self into my breast;
Where you maintain'd an Unresisted pow'r:
Not your own Daughter could have lov'd you more:
Till Conscious of your Age my faith was blam'd,
And I a lewd Adulteress proclaim'd;
Accus'd of foulest Incest with your Son:
What more could my worst Enemy have done?
King.
Nothing I hope, I would not have it said,
That in my Vengeance any fault I made.
Love me! oh low pretence! too feebly built:
But 'tis the Constant fault of dying guilt,
Ev'n to the last to cry th'are Innocent;
When their despair's so great, they can't repent.
Queen.
Thus having Urg'd your Malice to the head,
You spightfully are Come to rail me dead.
Had I been man and had an impious Wife,
With speedy fury I'd have snatch'd her life:
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And there have ransack't each polluted part:
Triumph'd and laugh'd t'have seen the Iss'uing flood,
And Wantonly have bath'd my hands in blood.
That had out-done the low revenge You bring,
Much fitter for a Woman then a King.
King.
I'm glad I know what death you'd wish to have,
You would go down in silence to your grave:
Remove from future fame, as present times,
And bury with you if you could your Crimes.
No, I will have my Justice understood:
Proclaim thy falshood, and thy lust aloud,
Queen.
About it then, the noble work begin,
Be proud and boast how cruel you have been.
Oh how a Monarch's glory 'twill advance!
Do, quickly let it reach the ears of France;
I've there a Royal Brother that is Young,
Who'l certainly revenge his Sisters Wrong:
Into thy Spain a mighty Army bring,
Tumble thee from thy Throne, a wretched thing,
And make it quite forgot thou e're wert King.
King.
I ne're had pleasure with her till this Night:
The Viper finds she's crush't, and fain would bite.
Oh were he here and durst maintain that word,
I'd like an Eagle seize the Callow Bird,
And gripe him till the dastard Craven Cry'd;
Then throw him panting by his Sisters side.
Qu.
Alas! I faint and sink, my Lord your hand,
[To D. J.
My spirits fail, and I want strength to stand.
D. J.
O Jealousie.
A Curse which none but he that bears it knows;
Leads her to a Chair.
So rich a Treasure who would live to loose.
King.
The poison works, heav'n grant there were enough:
She is so foul, she may be poison proof.
Now, my false fair one—
Qu.
Tyrant hence be gone,
This hour's my last, and let it be my own.
Away, away, I would not leave the light,
With such a hated Object in my sight.
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No, I will stay and ev'n thy prayr's prevent,
I would not give thee leisure to repent:
But let thy sins all in one Throng Combine
To plague thy Soul, as thou hast Tortur'd mine.
Qu.
Glut then your Eyes, your Tyrant Fury feed,
And Triumph; but remember when I'm dead,
Hereafter on your dying pillows, you
May feel those Tortures, which you give me now.
Go on, your worst reproaches I can bear,
And with 'em all, you shall not force a Tear.
King.
Thus Austria my lost freedom I obtain,
And once more shall appear my self again.
Love held me fast whilst like a foolish Boy
I of the thing was fond because 'twas gay,
But now I've thrown the gaudy Toy away.
Eboli within.
Eb.
Help, Murder, help.—
King.
—See Austria whence that Cry,
Call up our Guards, there may be danger nigh.
[Enter Guard.
Enter Eboli in her night-dress wounded and bleeding, Rui-Gomez pursuing her.
Eb.
Oh Guard me from that Cruel Murderer!
But 'tis in vain, the steel has gone too far:
Turn Wretched King, I've something to unfold,
Nor can I die till the sad Secret's Told.
King.
The Woman's mad! to some Apartment by
Remove her, where she may grow tame and dye.
Fate came abroad to night resolv'd to range;
I Love a kind Companion in revenge.
[huggs R. Go.
Ebol.
If in your heart truth any favour wins;
If e're you would repent of secret sins,
Here me a word.
King.
—What would'st thou say? be brief.
Ebol.
Do what you can to save that pretious life:
Try every art that may her death prevent;
You are abus'd, and she is innocent.
When I perceiv'd my hopes of you were vain,
Led by my lust I practis'd all my Charms,
To gain the Prince Don Carlos to my Arms:
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And pride made him my Engine for Revenge:
[To R. Go.
Taught him to raise your growing Jealousie,
To D. J.
Then my wild passion at this Prince did fly,
And that was done for which I now must die.
King.
Ha Gomez, speak and Quickly, is it so?
R. Go.
I'm sorry you should doubt if't be or no:
She by whose lust my honour was betray'd,
Cannot want malice now to take my head,
And therefore does this penitence pretend.
Eb.
Oh Austria take away that Ugly Fiend,
He smiles and mocks me, waiting for my Soul:
See how his glaring fiery Eye-balls rowl.
R. Go.
Thus is her fancy tortur'd by her guilt;
But since you'l have my blood, let it be spilt.
King.
No more—
[To R. Go.
Speak on I charge thee by the rest
[To Eb.
Thou hope'st the truth, and as thou shalt be blest.
Eb.
As what I've said is so:
There may I find, where I must answer all,
What most I need, heav'ns mercy on my Soul.
[Dyes.
King.
Heav'n! she was sensible that she should dye,
And durst not in the minute tell a lye.
D. J.
His guilt's too plain, see his wild staring Eye.
By unconcern he would show innocence,
But Harden'd Guilt ne're wanted the pretence
Of great submission when't had no defence.
Thus whilst of life you shew this little Care,
You seem not guiltless, but betray despair.
King.
His life! what satisfaction can that give?
But oh in doubt I must for ever live,
And loose my peace—Yet I the truth will find:
I'l rack him for't; go in this minute bind
Him to the wheel—
R. Go.
How have I this deserv'd,
Who only your Commands obey'd and serv'd?
What would you have me do?
King.
—I'd have thee tell
The truth; do Gomez, all shall then be well.
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Alas! like you Sir, in a Cloud I'm lost,
And can but tell you what I think at most:
You set me as a Spy upon the Prince,
And I still brought the best Intelligence
I could, till finding him too much aware
Of me, I nearer measures took by her:
Which if I after a false Copy drew,
'Tis I have been Unfortunate as you.
King.
And this is all thou hast for life to shew?
R. Go.
Dear Sir your pardon, it is all I know.
King.
Then Villain I am damn'd as well as thou.
Heav'n where is now thy sleeping providence,
That took so little care of Innocence?
Oh Austria, had I to thy truth inclind:
Hid I been half so good as thou wer't kind.
But I'm too tame, secure that Traytor; Oh
Guards seizes him.
Earth open to thy Center, let me Go
And there for ever hide my Impious head.
Thou fairest purest Creature Heav'n e're made,
Thy Injur'd truth too late I've understood:
Yet live and be Immortal as Th'art good.
Queen.
Can you to think me Innocent incline
On her bare word, and would not Credit mine:
The poison's very busie at my heart,
Methinks I see Death shake his Threat'ning dart:
Why are you kind and make it hard to die?
Persist, Continue on the Injury.
Call me still vile, incestuous, all that's foul.
King.
Oh pity, pity my despairing Soul;
Sink it not quite. Raise my Physitians strait;
Hasten 'em quickly e're it be too late.
Propose rewards may set their skill at strife,
I'l give my Crown to him that saves her life.
Curst Dog!—
[To Gomez.
D. J.
Vile prostitute!
King.
—Revengeful Fiend!
But Iv'e forgotten half, to Carlos send;
Prevent what his despair may make him do:
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Henr.
Oh Horror, Horror, everlasting Woe.
The Prince, the Prince!
King.
Hah! speak.—
Hen.
—He dyes, he dyes.
Within upon his Couch he bleeding lyes:
Just taken from a Bath, his Veins all Cut,
From which the springing blood flowes swiftly out.
He threatens death on all that shall oppose
His fate, to save that life which he will loose.
King.
Dear Austria hasten, all thy int'rest use.
Tell him it is to Friendship an Offence,
And let him know his Father's penitence:
Beg him to live.—
R. Go.
Since yo've decreed my death, know 'twill be hard,
The Bath by me was poison'd when prepar'd.
I Ow'd him that for his late pride and scorn:
King.
There never was so curs't a Villain born.
But by revenge such pains he shall go through,
As ev'n Religious Cruelty ne're knew.
Rack him! I'l broyl him, burn him by degrees;
Fresh Torments for him ev'ry hour devise,
Till he Curse heav'n, and then the Caitiff dies.
Queen.
My faithful Henrietta art thou come
To wait th'unhappy Mistress to her Tomb?
I brought thee hither from thy Parents young,
And now must leave thee, to heav'n knowes what wrong.
But Heav'n to its protection will receive
Such goodness, let it then thy Queen forgive.
Hen.
How much I lov'd you, Madam, none can tell;
For 'tis Unspeakable, I lov'd so well.
A proof of it the World shall quickly find:
For when You dye, I'l scorn to stay behind.
Enter D. Carlos supported between two, and bleeding.
D. John.
See Sir, your Son.
King.
My Son! but oh how dare
I use that name when this sad Object's near.
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No more thy Father, but the worst of slaves:
Behold the tears that from these fountains flow.
D. Carl.
I come to take my farewel, e're I go
To that bright dwelling, where there is no room
For Blood, and where the Cruel never Come.
King.
I know there is not; therefore must despair:
Oh heav'n his Cruelty I cannot bear.
Dost thou not hear thy wretched Father sue?
D. Car.
My Father, speak the word once more, is't you?
And may I think the dear Conversion true?
Oh that I could!
King.
By heav'n thou must—it is.
Let me Embrace and kiss thy Trembling knees.
Why wilt thou dye? no, live my Carlos live,
And all the wrongs that I have done, forgive.
D. Car.
Life was my Curse, and giv'n me sure in spight:
Oh had I perisht when I first saw light,
I never then these miseries had brought
On you, nor by you had been Guilty thought.
Prop me: apace I feel my life decay.
The little time on Earth I have to stay,
Grant I without Offence may here bestow:
Pointing to the Queen.
You cannot certainly be Jealous now.
King.
Break, break my heart—
Leads D. Carlos to the Chair.
D. Car.
Y'ave thus more kindness shown,
Then if y'ad Crown'd and plac't me on your Throne.
Methinks so highly happy I appear,
That I could pity you, to see You there:
Take me away again, You are too good.
Queen.
Carlos is't you? Oh stop that Royal flood;
Live, and possess your Father's Throne, when I
In dark and gloomy Shades forgotten lie.
D. Car.
Crowns are beneath me, I have higher pride
Thus on you fixt, and dying by your side,
How much a Life and Empire I disdain;
No, we'l together mount, where both shall raign
Above all Wrongs, and never more Complain.
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Oh matchless Youth! oh Constancy Divine!
Sure there was never Love that Equall'd thine;
Nor any so Unfortunate as mine.—
Henceforth forsaken Virgins shall in Songs,
When they would ease their own, repeat thy wrongs:
And in remembrance of thee, for thy sake,
A solemn Annual Procession make:
In Chast devotion as fair Pilgrims Come,
With Hyacinths, and Lillies, deck thy Tomb.
But one thing more, and then Vain World adieu!
It is to reconcile my Lord, and You.
D. Carl.
H'as done no wrong to me, I am possest
Of all, beyond my expectation blest.
But yet methinks there's something in my heart,
Tells me I must not too Unkindly part:
Father draw nearer, raise me with your hand,
Before I dye, what is't you would Command?
King.
The Grant thoul't find too difficult a Task;
I want forgiveness if I durst but ask.
How Curst! and yet how might I have been blest!
D. Carl.
Oh all my wrongs and my misfortunes past,
As they ne're were let your Remembrance shun,
And quite forget e'm all as I ha' done.
Alas! 'tis fate has been too blame, not You,
Who only Honours dictates did pursue.
I was a wicked Son, Indeed I was;
Rebel to Yours as well as Duties Laws.
By head-strong will too proud to be confin'd;
Scorn'd your Commands, and at your Joyes repin'd.
When to my love your Royal Claim was layd,
I should have born my Inj'ries and obeyd;
But I was hot, and would my right maintain,
Which you forgave; yet I rebell'd again,
And nought but death can now wash off the stain.
King.
Why wert thou made so excellently good;
And why was it no sooner Understood?
But I was Curs't, and blindly led astray;
Oh for thy Father, for thy Father pray.
Thou may'st ask that which I'm too vile to dare;
And leave me not tormented by despair.
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Thus then with the remains of life we kneel,
D. Carl. and the Queen sink out of the Chairs, and kneel.
May you be ever free from all that's ill.
Queen.
And everlasting peace upon you dwell.
King.
No more; this Virtue's too divinely bright,
My Darken'd Soul too Conversant with Night,
Grows blind, and Overcome with too much light.
Here raise e'm up: Gently ye slaves, down, down,
Ye Glorious Toyles a Scepter and a Crown
For ever be forgotten, in your stead
Only Eternal darkness wrap my head.
Qu.
Where are you? oh Farewel, I must be gone.
King.
Blest happy Soul, take not thy flight to soon:
Stay till I dye, then bear mine with thee too,
And Guard it up, which else must sink below.
Qu.
From all my Injuries and all my fears;
From Jealousie Love's bane; the worst of Cares,
Thus I remove to find that stranger rest,
Carlos thy hand support me on thy breast,
Within this minute how shall we be blest.
D. Car.
Oh far above
What ever wishes fram'd, or hopes design'd;
Thus where we go we shall the Angels find,
For ever pressing, and for ever kind.
Qu.
Make hast, in the first Sphear I'l for you stay;
Thence we'l rise both to Everlasting day.
Farewel—
[Dyes.
D. Car.
I follow you, now Close my eyes;
Leans on her bosome.
Thus all o're bliss the Happy Carlos dyes.
King.
Th'are gone, th'are gone, where I must n'ere aspire,
Run, sally out, and set the World on fire.
Alarum Nature, let loose all the winds;
Set free those spirits whom strong Magick binds.
Let the Earth open all her Sulph'rous Veins,
The Fiends start from their Hell and shake their Chains,
Till all things from their Harmony decline,
And the Confusion be as great as mine,
Here I'l lye down, and never more arise;
Howl out my life, and rend the Ayr with Cryes.
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Hold Sir! afford your lab'ring heart some ease.
King.
Oh name it not! there's no such thing as Peace.
From these warm Lips, yet one soft kiss I'le take:
How my heart beats! why won't the Rebel break?
My Love, my Carlos, I'm thy Father, speak.
Oh he regards not now my miseries!
But deaf to my Complaint, as I have been to his.
Oh now I think on't better, all is well;
Here's one that's just descending into Hell:
How comes it that he's not already gone?
The Sluggard's Lazy, but I'le spur him on.
Hey! how he flyes.
[Stabs R. Gomez.
R. Gom.
'Twas aym'd well at my heart
That I had strength enough but to retort:
Dull Life so tamely must I from thee part!
Curses and plagues; Revenge where art thou now?
Meet, meet me at thy own dark house below.
[Dyes.
King.
He's gone, and now there's not so vile a thing
As I.
D. John.
Remember Sir, You are a King.
King.
A King! it is too little; I'le be more
I tell thee: Nero was an Emperour,
He kill'd his Mother; but I've that out-done,
Murder'd a Loyal Wife, and Guiltless Son.
Yet Au'stria, why should I grow mad for that?
Is it my fault I was unfortunate?
D. John.
Collect your Spirits Sir, and calm your Mind?
King.
Look too't! strange things I tell thee are design'd.
Thou Austria shal't grow old, and in thy age
Doat, Doat, my Heroe! oh a long gray Beard,
With Eyes distiling Rheum, and hollow Cheeks,
Will be such charms thou can'st not want success:
But above all beware of Jealousie.
It was the dreadful Curse that ruin'd me.
D. John.
Dread Sir, no more.
King.
Oh Heart! Oh Heaven! but stay,
Nam'd I not heaven? I did, and at the word
(Methought I saw't) the Azure fabrick stir'd.
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But I'le pursue and Overtake e'm there.
Whirle, stop the Sun, arrest his Charioteer;
I'le ride in that away, pull, pull him down:
Oh how I'le hurl the Wild-fire as I run.
Now, now I mount—
[Runs off raving
D. John.
Look to the King.
See of this fair one too strict care be had.
Pointing to Henrietta.
Despair! how vast a Triumph hast thou made?
No more in Loves Enervate charms I'le ly,
Shaking off softness, to the Camp I'le fly;
Where Thirst of Fame the Active Hero warms,
And what I've lost in Peace, regain in Arms.
FINIS.
| Don Carlos Prince of Spain | |