University of Virginia Library

Act Second.

SCENE FIRST

—A ROOM OF STATE.
DONNA ISABELLA, BLANCHE.
D. ISABELLA
(seated on a sofa).
I pray thee, Blanche, retire!

BLANCHE.
Insist not, Madam!
I cannot leave you thus.

D. ISABELLA.
Why wilt thou stay?—
I blush that mortal should behold my tears,
Or view the pangs, that rend my anguish'd heart.
Thy feeble pity cannot change my fate,
Nor thy calm reason argue me to peace:
(Rising.)
For I am doom'd to feed a hopeless flame.
Is this to be a Queen? Ah! dear-bought greatness!
A Queen! A wretch in state! chain'd down by prejudice;
A pageant slave! a vassal to a throne,
Great but for others, powerless for myself.

BLANCHE.
Madam, control this grief! think of your Rank—

D. ISABELLA.
Rank! can it root out passion from my soul,
And change my mould of mind? annihilate
The softness from my heart, the cherish'd thoughts,
The oft-recurring hopes of fabled bliss,
I have so fondly form'd, but must not share?—
Pride, guard my mind! and apathy, my heart!
And let my feelings with my fate agree.

BLANCHE.
O Madam! how I trembled for your glory;
For, from the Oath you made your lovers swear,
I thought you fix'd to give your Crown to Carlos.
But you have nobly conquer'd your own heart,
Whilst you sustain'd your regal dignity.

D. ISABELLA.
Say rather, Blanche! that Love usurp'd my throne,
And with a monarch's wrath aveng'd my lover.
I thought that I was master o'er my heart;
I had not plann'd to act, as thou hast seen me,
Although I mean'd to honour Carlos highly:
I only will'd to try the Counts' respect,
And to secure my power, and royal Rights.
For, as, alas! this choice was dreaded by me,
It seem'd like a relief, a sort of pleasure,
To lose a little time, to loiter lingering,
Thus to retard my doom, and put off fate.
Yet I was going to name—I had no choice—
And could Don Manrique have restrain'd his pride,
Castile perhaps, ere this, had hail'd him King.
He urg'd my temper to its utmost bearing;
And scarcely I refrain'd from naming Carlos,
To gall his pride, for daring to insult me.

BLANCHE.
I marvel not that you chastise his insolence,
Which on you cast such shame, and rude reproach.

D. ISABELLA.
Under the specious plea, to avenge my power,
Love found a fair pretence to scatter favours.
I have made Carlos, Marquis, Count, and Governor;
Oh! with what joy could I have hail'd him King!
How my heart pleaded! Yet by these profusions,
I thought to satisfy and silence it;
For to pronounce against him much distress'd me;
And, when I bade him give away my Crown,
'Twas only, that he might himself exclude.
I parley'd with my power to soothe my heart;
And did an outrage, where I seem'd to honour.

BLANCHE.
Fearing to make him King, you make him more.

D. ISABELLA.
My heart, indifferent to all the Three,
Thought, that it best could like, whom Carlos chose;
This sudden fancy sway'd my conduct, Blanche.
But now I wish I had repress'd the thought,
And humbled Manrique by some other means.
For I have err'd in making Carlos Judge;
He bids the sword decide. Ah! does he hope
To gain me thus himself? Does he then love me?—
I dare not trust my thoughts that dangerous length.
I must prevent the sword from being drawn,
And, by my choice, stifle these dreaded feuds.

BLANCHE.
'Twill be an arduous task to wrench the sword
From valour's hand, when custom bids it grasp it.
He who retracts is ignominious held,
And honour, to great souls, is more than life.

D. ISABELLA.
I would not so disgrace my power to affront,
That valour I admire. For when obedience
Is by dishonour stain'd, kings go too far,
And undermine their own omnipotence.
Feigning to grant, I will prevent this combat:
If they remit it, then I hold it broken.
See, Carlos, to obey my order, comes.

(Exit Blanche.)

SCENE SECOND.

DONNA ISABELLA, DON CARLOS.
D. ISABELLA.
Marquis! Castile has by your arm been sav'd:
Its gratitude I till this Day reserv'd,
To make its favours more conspicuous shine,
Granted in full assembly of my States.
Much has it griev'd me, when I mean'd reward,
But to stand forth the champion of your worth:
And, ere my purpose to yourself was known,
To have those honours, to your merit due,
Extorted as an act of justice from me;
As if I wanted soul, in virtue's cause,
Freely to pay, where I indebted stood,
For services almost beyond reward.—
Yet, whilst I own no recompense can reach them,
I trust that I have shown I prize your virtues.
Spite of that envy which pursues your merit,
I, unsolicited, have rais'd your fortune:
Yet, if not equal to your just ambition,
If other recompense you hop'd, or wish for,
Speak! to your own content I will oblige you.

D. CARLOS.
My Queen's exalted spirit has bestow'd
Such high, such full-blown honours, as my soul
Dar'd not in thought conceive: far less expect.
Troubled, amaz'd, confus'd, o'erwhelm'd, with bounty,
Let her not think, I have one wish ungratify'd.

D. ISABELLA.
Yet, when above your hopes I raise your fortune,
Grace and distinguish you with all my favour,
Lean on your judgment, with a sister's confidence,
You give me, Marquis! reason for complaint.

D. CARLOS.
How, Madam! have I sinn'd?

D. ISABELLA.
Your sword is rais'd
Against the State's repose, and against mine.
The strongest pillars of the State, are Manrique,
Lopez and Alvarez; in them you undermine it;
In them you seek to shed its purest blood.
Think to what height my people prize these Counts,
Since worthy, each is deem'd, to share my Throne.

D. CARLOS.
Madam!—this blame—

D. ISABELLA.
My Lord! when thus I censure you,
And to yourself, whate'er complaint I make,
Such frankness tells in what esteem I hold you;
I would prevent you from incurring blame;
Guarding your honour thus, I mean you favour.—
Your pride, against the Counts; has arm'd your vengeance;
There was no need, my Lord! to draw your sword;
I had aveng'd the insult you sustain'd,
Nor did I leave your triumph incomplete,
When I deputed you to give my diadem.
I made you the Counts' Judge, but not their foe;
Bidding the sword decide, you much mistake me.

D. CARLOS.
Then has my judgment, not my duty err'd:
Only my courage do the Counts allow me;
Therefore in that I humbly put my trust,
To prove who worthiest—

D. ISABELLA
(interrupting him).
Did you then hope,
If o'er all Three your prowess gave you 'vantage,
It would be said, chusing Castile a King,
The State could find none to compare with you?—
If thus presumptuous, and thus vain, I thought you—

(Stops short.)
D. CARLOS
(kneeling, after a moment's pause).
Oh! spare the injurious accusation, Madam!—
If you repent your favours, Gracious Queen!
My ruin is no difficult achievement.
Yet do not charge me with unthought-of crimes;
Nor arm your anger with unjust suspicions.
(The Queen signs to him to rise.)
I love you, Queen! but with a flame as pure,
As from the hallow'd sacrifice ascends:
As we love honour, virtue, Heaven itself.—
And if the matchless lustre of my Sovereign
Dazzles a moment my enchanted soul,
Sudden it back returns, and downcast shrinks
Into itself. Ambitious sighs, vain hopes,
And criminal desires, I never breath'd.

D. ISABELLA.
'Tis well:—I find myself mistaking, Carlos!

D. CARLOS.
I, Madam; only as a Queen can love you.
For, should unhallow'd passion, rise within
My guilty breast, should you (O, pardon, Princess!
The impious thought) should you, so far forget
Your sacred self, and what you owe your rank,
As to partake the passion you inspir'd,
And suffer me to breathe my vows before you;
If, by some fatal fascination curs'd,
Your sensibility should so degrade you,
As to descend, e'en from your Throne, to me,
Know my esteem would instantly decrease;
And my love, rais'd on that, would soon expire.

D. ISABELLA.
Marquis! your thoughts are worthy a great soul.

D. CARLOS.
Your glory, Madam! is my heart's first object.
In combating the Counts I have no wish,
But to make known him, who deserves you most.
Ill should I answer your high confidence,
If only on my judgment I depended,
To chuse your Spouse and partner of your Throne.—
All-seeing power! direct the sword of him,
Who best deserves her, through my ready heart!

D. ISABELLA.
Carlos! forbear; nor interest Heaven itself,
Against my peace!—Why must the Sword decide?—
—Blushing with shame, at weakness unsubdu'd,
I own I love one of the purpos'd combatants.
Yet should I not have nam'd whom I prefer;
For though I love, my Country's good outweighs
My tenderest thoughts, my heart foregoes its choice,
And seeks the Hero who deserves to reign;
And by my subjects' will be most approv'd.
After Don Manrique's most opprobrious insolence,
Fearing my partial heart might sway my judgment,
To yours I trusted, and consign'd my Crown:
Not thinking you would bid the sword decide,
And harrass, with new woes, my wounded peace.
Carlos! respect his life whom I esteem:
Reflect how hard his fate to lose a Throne.
Respect the sufferings of my sorrowing soul,
Torn, for my People's good, from him I love;
Let me not have to mourn his hapless death,
With poignant anguish, never-ending tears.

D. CARLOS.
O Queen! I would not dare to wrest your confidence,
Guessing the secret which your scruples veil;
Nor solve the mystery hidden beneath your words.
Yet hear your faithful Servant, gracious Princess!
Trust me, such equal heroes are these Counts,
On your heart's choice you safely may rely.—
Why then reject, with cruel heroism,
The good which Heaven has plac'd within your reach?
Let not the thirst of glory now deceive you;
It soon will pall; and to vacuity
Will leave your heart, or else a prey to grief.
Did virtue claim the purpos'd sacrifice,
That motive, in full force, would constant last,
And lenient sooth at once, and heal your mind.
O! dread the agony of hopeless passion!
It steeps the warrior's manly cheek in tears,
And makes him joyless, though with laurels grac'd.
Brave not this ceaseless torment of the soul:
It is the baleful poison of sweet peace,
No balm can medicate, no time assuage;
To which, night brings no sleep, nor day-spring joy.
—O Heaven! instruct me in which happy lover,
I may revere my gracious, royal Mistress,
That by an easy, and a sudden victory—

D. ISABELLA.
It must not be.—If through respect for me,
One of the Three you spare, you give the prize;
You make me Judge.—I dare not, must not chuse.—
You urge me, Carlos! to the brink of fate;—
You add fresh conflicts to an o'ercharg'd heart:—
Your eager valour hazards all my peace,
Heedless you pierce my heart with wounds immedicable—
(Turns from D. Carlos to hide her emotion.)
I would avoid discussion on this subject—
—Though, as a Queen, I might forbid these combats,
I will not wound your honour, nor the Counts;
The Lists shall be prepar'd, the challenge held:
Who of the Three is first to try his fortune?

D. CARLOS
(observing the Queen).
Alvarez, Madam!

D. ISABELLA.
He for another sighs!

D. CARLOS.
Yet He alone the glorious prize contests.

D. ISABELLA.
Gallant Alvarez! first, though thou lov'st me not?
To-morrow shall his courage be display'd.

D. CARLOS.
This day, the challenge of Alvarez names.

D. ISABELLA.
If I consent not, what avails his challenge?
On your allegiance be it then deferr'd.
Carlos adieu!—Respect my prohibition!

SCENE THIRD.

D. CARLOS
(alone).

SCENE FOURTH.

DONNA ELVIRA, DON CARLOS.
D. ELVIRA.
Ah! Carlos! scarcely can I call you Marquis,
(Although you merit your exalted rank,
But then I wish'd myself to raise you to it);
Why have the charms of glory, thus seduc'd
Your wavering honour, to desert that cause,
To which your faith was pledg'd, your sword devote?
Your valour should compel the rebel Garcia
To yield obedience to my sovereign sway:
Your sword held ready till I bade it strike,
To place my long-lost sceptre in my hand.
Yet, Count! and with that self-same sword, your faith
To me engag'd, you undertake to fight
Three single combats, which are not for me.
You have forgotten, Count! what Carlos promis'd.
Back to the Queen resign Penafiel,
Burgos, and Santillane. For, trust me, Arragon
Shall grateful give you more than you refuse.

D. CARLOS.
Either as Carlos, or as Marquis, Madam!
I, nor forget, nor will desert your rights;
The traitor Garcia shall your victim fall.
Yet, though this sacrifice I owe to you,
The Queen, in gratitude, first claims my sword;
And highly it behoves the favour'd Marquis,
To pay the mighty debt of humble Carlos,
And to resent the outrage done the Queen.

D. ELVIRA.
Did she intrust her ring with that intent?

D. CARLOS.
When your bright Sex, insulted, wants a champion,
Forbid it honour, glory, courage, manhood,
That they should need to stoop to ask for aid;
Or intimate the means to right their cause.

D. ELVIRA.
I think these combats might have been avoided,
Unless the Counts had challeng'd you in arms.

D. CARLOS.
Then had I been ungrateful, and dishonour'd.
Could disrespect assume an air more taunting,
Than to assert, with scornful insolence,
That her high heart indulg'd a secret passion,
Unworthy of herself? Manrique averr'd it;
And infamy would blot my name with cowardice,
Not to stand forth in her most sacred cause,
When duty, honour, gratitude, command it.
My royal Mistress, in protecting me,
Incurr'd this insult by her noble spirit;
Sdeigning submission still the Count defy'd her,
Forcing her new restrictions to invent,
Or tamely shrink, insulted on her throne.
I must protect her rights, assert her power,
Maintain her cause, her injuries avenge;
That done, my sword, with heartfelt zeal, is yours.

D. ELVIRA.
Carlos! I comprehend, from this excuse,
That the Queen's service is preferr'd to mine;
Because her subject, you break faith with me.

D. CARLOS.
For her, or you, I feel an equal zeal;
Your cause, or hers, is mine. Nor have I seen
Aught yet, of sleepless toil, or perilous hazard,
But what for either I would wish to encounter.
Nay, though engag'd to fight for her to-morrow,
Sustain'd you wrong, which this day call'd for vengeance,
Instant would I expose my breast, to more
Than Three such combats in your cause, Elvira!
Without reflecting what I ow'd the Queen.
Misconstrue not the conduct which I hold,
Nor wound my soul by undeserv'd reproaches.
Know the high rank to which the Queen has rais'd me,
Has but One charm for Me. But as your champion,
Donna Elvira! are those honours priz'd,
Which, in the eye of undiscerning crowds,
Will give respect to him who fights your battles,
Beyond what unplum'd courage ever meets.

D. ELVIRA.
To grace my cause, I wanted but your valour;
I can invest you with still higher honours,
Them, Marquis! you disdain, and me betray.

D. CARLOS.
I wish'd but one reward from bright Elvira;
I thought it mine;—but find myself deceiv'd.

D. ELVIRA.
Deceiv'd, my Lord! by whom?

D. CARLOS.
My own vain thoughts;—
For, from your gentle manners, I presum'd,
That in esteem you held the humble Carlos;
That in your breast such hallow'd friendship dwelt,
As pure Religion, with all-healing balm,
Tells us the blest, in the next world, enjoy;
Where all distinctions cease of earthly rank.
But I was mock'd with visionary joy;
The Queen of Arragon suspects my zeal,
Changes the sweet complacence of her temper,
For dark distrust, anger, and keen reproach.
My mind feels anguish, all unknown before;
A comfortless dismay subdues my spirit;
Joyless, forlorn, and desolate I seem;
As if my Guardian Angel left his charge,
And ev'ry cheering passion join'd his flight.

D. ELVIRA.

D. CARLOS.
Over Alvarez' soul I know your power;
His virtues make him worthy of your heart.

D. ELVIRA.
When you fight with him, think of whom I love;
And be his blood respected as your own.

D. CARLOS.
Do you command me then to make him King?

D. ELVIRA.
I only ask, that you would think of me.
I go, in hopes of justice from the Queen;
And, if I can, these combats to prevent.

(Exeunt severally.)