University of Virginia Library

Act Third.

SCENE FIRST.

DONNA ELVIRA, DON ALVAREZ.
D. ELVIRA.
Forbear, my Lord! and chuse some other theme.
How dare you to pretend you love me still,
When in the Lists you fight to gain the Queen?
What star malevolent thus rules your fate,
Making your arm a traitor to your heart?

D. ALVAREZ.
Imperious honour claims excuse from love.

D. ELVIRA.
A lover's honour is fidelity.
My Lord! you now can have no hopes from me:
To what does your ambitious heart pretend?

D. ALVAREZ.
That you should pity a poor wretch's fate,
Your cruelty involves in such distress.
Oh! could my faithful love have won your heart,
This fatal honour never had been mine:
The States would not have nam'd me as a suitor,
Nor forced me, by their choice, to woo the Queen.
Oh, would to Heaven! that I may either die,
Or win the Queen, but to acquire Elvira.

D. ELVIRA.
Vain are your prayers to wish for miracles.
Embrace the glittering prize which fortune offers;
So much to your advantage is the change,
That it wipes off, that censure, and disgrace,
Which levity and fickleness excite.
But yet beware, Alvarez! that brave Carlos,
Does not avenge me, to your glory's downfall;
And make your pride repent of this desertion.

D. ALVAREZ.
Princess! this forc'd desertion more befriends me,
Than have whole years of persevering love:
When honour forces me to break my chains,
How I rejoice to be so much esteem'd,
As to excite your anger, and resentment.

D. ELVIRA.
Count! you mistake the source of my displeasure.
Much it offends me, that you still persist
To persecute my heart, when you forsake me:
And, that you term my coldness cruelty.
Hope, gave I none, nor sought to gain that love,
I fear'd my unwilling heart could never share.
I own, with gratitude, your generous services,
When Heaven's inflictions did most sore beset me.
My best esteem must be your sole reward:
A heart magnanimous expects no more;
Nor seeks it to enslave, whom it has serv'd.

D. ALVAREZ.
Ah! think me not so mean of soul, to plead
Those services, your sacred Sex commands
From valour's arm; which I triumphant paid you.
All the poor merit, that Alvarez claims,
Is from try'd love, and constant adoration:
Too happy had I been, could these have won you.

D. ELVIRA.
No Consort will I chuse, till I am Queen.
The nuptial tie, no hero shall involve
In my disastrous fortunes, to his ruin.
Europe, through all her States, has no alliance
For Isabel, or me; no King, nor Prince,
Whose power might safely combat for my Kingdom.
And, should my present shining prospects fade,
Had I the meanness to accept your hand,
My Wars would drain the treasures of your House:
For when contending Monarchs play for Empires,
The noblest fortune scarcely pays one stake.—
An undisputed, and more splendid Throne
Presents itself to your unsteady love;
Willing, perhaps, it found your heart to share it.

D. ALVAREZ.
No! 'T was your cruelty expos'd me to it.
When on a rock you drive me to destruction,
Then you revile the shipwreck you have caus'd.

D. ELVIRA.
I blame you not, that you accept this fortune;
More favour'd lovers might have listen'd to it.
Yet, be what will the motives of your conduct,
With much less warmth it might have been embrac'd:
But you fight first, and, this impatient zeal,
Proclaims, with how much joy, you break the chains,
Of ill-requited love, and gain your liberty.

D. ALVAREZ.
How! could you bear the people should behold
Your lover, the most cowardly of the Three?
Not daring to attack this glorious Carlos,
Till first his rivals had his force exhausted?

D. ELVIRA.
Those rivals come, with them, my Lord, I leave you!
(Exit D. Elvira.)

SCENE SECOND.

DON MANRIQUE, DON ALVAREZ, DON LOPEZ.
D. MANRIQUE.
Which treats you best, Alvarez! Love or Fortune?
Can the Queen charm so near the bright Elvira?

D. ALVAREZ.
When I have won the Ring, I will declare.

D. LOPEZ.
'T is thought, that Carlos rivals you in both;
And gives you cause for jealousy's keen pangs.

D. ALVAREZ.
He makes more jealous than myself, I fear.—

D. LOPEZ.
Through pity, he should yield you one, or t'other,
Ending the contest, who shall make him King.
The fair Castile, and Arragon both wish it;
Two Queens, in beauty's prime, both sigh for Carlos.

D. ALVAREZ.
Then let that thought our lofty spirits humble:
Though pride, and honour, storm with giant strength,
Love gives the palm, where justice might decree it.

D. MANRIQUE.
Yet you defy this idol of your praise.

D. ALVAREZ.
My Lord! my honour is distinct from pride:
Honour impels me to demand the Lists;
And pride alone could make me scorn brave Carlos.

D. MANRIQUE.
The Queen has order'd us to meet her here:
But, on what subject to confer, we know not.
This is a day of wonders and caprice;
But you, Alvarez! patient bear each change,
With calm indifference, and stoic apathy:
Whilst various torments rack my burning soul,
And love and pride, by turns, my bosom rule.

SCENE THIRD.

DONNA ISABELLA, DON MANRIQUE, DON LOPEZ, DON ALVAREZ.
D. ISABELLA.
Leave us, Alvarez! I, to these Counts, would speak,
On matters of concernment to myself.
Your interest shall obtain my best regard,
You shall find all the favour you can wish.

D. ALVAREZ.
When you command, I know but to obey.
(Exit D. Alvarez.)

SCENE FOURTH.

DONNA ISABELLA, DON MANRIQUE, DON LOPEZ.
D. ISABELLA.
I will remove all cause of discontent;
And, since my choice more honour will confer,
I will reclaim my Ring; and chuse myself.
But, from my choice, Alvarez I exclude;
Yet, the sole cause of this exclusion, Lords!
Is, that I know he loves the Queen of Arragon.—
In one of you, I view the future King.—

D. MANRIQUE
(kneeling).
O Madam! how your words transport my soul!
E'en whilst I tremble between hope and fear.
If Lopez win you, I shall be less wretched,
Resigning you to such a worthy Lover.
Speak, Madam! my impetuous soul, eager
With hope, demands to know my bliss or woe.

D. ISABELLA.
Rise!—Ere I speak my choice, fain would I see,
Some certain proof, that 't is myself you love;
And not the splendour of my sovereign Rank.
Counts! I shall think myself most lov'd by him,
Who can my sentiments and thoughts adopt;
Like whom I like, and, whom I hate, despise.

D. LOPEZ.
Lest we mistake your will, speak plainly, Madam!

D. ISABELLA.
If I have liberal been to valiant Carlos,
Let me behold in you a like esteem;
Honour his virtues, do his merit justice.
For ne'er presume, I will a Consort chuse,
To have the King, I make, my work destroy;
Reclaim my favours, or disgrace my friends.
Therefore, let neither hope to share my Throne,
Till something worthy, on your parts, confirms
What I have done for Carlos: that by such act,
I may remain assur'd, the structure which
My gratitude has rear'd, shall not be raz'd:
For I must know it safe, from storm, or stratagem.

D. MANRIQUE.
Don Carlos, Madam! is most highly honour'd;
His happiness so much employs your thoughts,
Ours is to his inthrall'd: yet since to honour him,
Is to please you, instruct us how to act.—
The Palm of Victory, nor the Trump of Fame,
Ne'er gave renown to one more brave than Carlos.
He is most worthy your munificence;
And well deserves to be, what you have made him.
Our gratitude to him indebted stands,
And we wish'd largely to acknowledge it.

D. LOPEZ.
But after you, we can do nothing for him:
Carlos is rais'd above our power to favour.
What is there in our power, left to propose,
That would not be a degradation to him?

D. ISABELLA.
Gifts, in your power there are, he might accept;
Gifts, that would clear your names from black ingratitude,
And free my anxious mind from its disquiet;
Gifts, which, without disgrace, he might possess.

D. LOPEZ.
Then name them, Madam! Power, and not will, we lack,
To clear us from this charge of black ingratitude.

D. ISABELLA.
Counts! you have each a Sister. 'T is my will,
That He, whom I shall please to chuse for King,
When he receives my hand, at the same Altar,
Shall, to the Warrior Carlos, give his Sister.
(The Counts testify by their looks much surprise.)
Embrace him, as his Brother, and his Friend;
And thus secure him from my Husband's enmity.
Not that I need to fear his hate to Carlos;
As in Castile I shall be always Queen.
For the new King, whate'er his project be,
Will, though inthron'd, be only my first subject.
But to exert my plenitude of power,
Over the heart to which I gave my own,
Would pain my inmost soul in the extreme.
I urge this union as of strife preventive,
Then answer? Will ye give your full consent?

D. MANRIQUE.
Yes, Queen! our full consent—to doom us both
To the most cruel death, rather than see,
The bright, pure honours of a thousand years,
By such a marriage, in one moment tarnish'd.—
Too dear an Empire at a price like this!

D. ISABELLA.
Thus then, audacious Count! thus then you testify,
That Carlos is most worthy my munificence;
And well deserves to be, what I have made him.
Thus to except against the Rank I give,
Proud Manrique! is to scorn my sovereign power.

D. MANRIQUE.
I do not, Queen! dispute your power to exalt
Carlos, or whom you please, e'en to our Rank.
No Sovereign stands accountable for dignities,
Which he confers, or gifts his liberality
Bestows. If he support, or raise, the unworthy,
'T is his own work, and the shame all his own.
But to disgrace, by misalliance, blood,
Which, from my Ancestors, unsully'd flows,
No Monarch ever shall, by my consent;
First be it on a Public Scaffold spilt,
Rather than know such vile contamination;—
Mine, from inheritance, I owe account of it
To my brave Ancestors, and all Posterity:
Pure, from my great Forefathers I receiv'd it,
Pure, shall it still remain, or cease to flow.

D. ISABELLA.
Then, Manrique! I, who owe account to no one,
Will of your vaunted, noble blood dispose.
Be mine the shame of its contamination.
What mad extravagance makes you presume
To think, I should propose, what would dishonour you?
How dare you to suspect me of such turpitude?
What law of rectitude, or nicest honour,
Have I infring'd, throughout my Life, proud Lord?
Or what disgrace incurr'd? I know of none,
But what I now incur—being forc'd to wed,—
Degrading thought,—the Vassal of my Crown;
Who,—whilst I thus descend,—scorns to intrust
His honour to my care.—Say! in what character,
Subject, or Lover, dare you to treat me thus?

D. LOPEZ.
Pardon the ardour, which infatuates him,
And makes him disrespectful in his speech:
In marriage, both our Sisters are betroth'd.

D. ISABELLA.
To whom?

D. MANRIQUE.
His Sister, Madam! is to me affianc'd.

D. ISABELLA
(to Manrique).
To whom is yours engag'd?

D. MANRIQUE.
To Lopez, Madam!

D. ISABELLA.
Then I am wrong in making either King.
Go, happy Lovers! go to your chosen Mistresses:
And to enhance the value of your love,
Tell them, with what contemptuous, galling scorn,
You have a Queen insulted, and disdain'd
A throne.—Retire! We hold no further conference.

D. LOPEZ
(kneeling).
Yet hear us, Madam!

D. ISABELLA.
And what have you to urge?
To speak in praise of constancy in love;
And that no earthly grandeur should seduce it?
If 't is a crime to violate this virtue,
I too, perhaps, my Lords! may learn to practise it.

D. LOPEZ.
Practise it, Madam!—But permit us first
To explain ourselves; that you may fully know
Don Manrique's heart, and mine, where you reign absolute;
As Queen respected, and ador'd as Mistress.—
Your choice will make the one, on whom it falls,
Supremely bless'd, the other doom to woe.
But to prevent all jealous feuds between us,
A mutual promise binds us in one interest.
If he be chosen, then I wed his Sister;
If I obtain you, mine with him unites:
Thus, Carlos cannot to the King be brother.

D. ISABELLA.
And know you not, that, being what you are,
The feudatory Vassals of my State,
Your Sisters are my Subjects, and on me
Depend?—Without my order, and expressly
Against my will, in marriage to engage them,
Is to usurp my Throne, and give me law.

D. MANRIQUE.
Assert your high prerogative as Sovereign,
Command us, as the Vassals of your State:
Do not request, unless we may refuse.
Command, we, at our peril, must obey.

D. LOPEZ.
But, Queen! remember,—never will consent.—

D. MANRIQUE.
And yet, in deference to your election,
Thus far we will recede, through love and duty;
Carlos is generous and he knows his birth;
Let him in secret judge upon that knowledge.
And, if his blood be worthy of such union,
To us let him this marriage then propose;
And we the alliance shall an honour deem.
He has free choice to wed one of our Sisters;
If, after knowing these strict terms, he dare.
'T is at his peril if his birth be mean.—
Thus far we stoop to gain our royal Mistress.
Modest let Carlos be; or else this marriage,
Must in innumerable evils plunge him.

D. ISABELLA.

SCENE FIFTH.

DONNA ISABELLA
(alone).
Whence this mysterious mutiny in both,
When their obedience would a Throne obtain?
Does it arise from pride, from envy springs it?
Is it malignity, contempt, defiance?
Or can it be that noble, generous spirit,
Which wrestles with the power its fortune wants,
Fearing complacency might falsely seem
Like a vile parasite, through interest courteous?
Perhaps 't is Heaven's high hand that interferes;
Yet wherefore?—My weak sense searches in vain.—
Why wars affection with my fame and glory?
If only by these cruel, ceaseless conflicts
Of reason, pride, and shame, love is control'd,
Grant me the fortune, Heaven! I dare not take:
And, since for me thou hast not made a King,
To the most worthy of my Subjects give me:
Inspire my people! let them name Don Carlos.

SCENE SIXTH.

DONNA ISABELLA, BLANCHE.
D. ISABELLA.
I have mispent my time. The haughty Counts,
At such a price, refuse the Diadem.

BLANCHE.
I, Madam! am return'd successless too;
For Carlos, on such terms, rejects all fortune.

D. ISABELLA.
What! Is he bent to render hate for hate,
And for contempt—contempt?

BLANCHE.
Oh! no, far otherwise.
The Sisters of the Counts he much esteems;
Thinks them deserving of a Monarch's love.

D. ISABELLA.
Why does he then reject this high alliance?

BLANCHE.
Some secret obstacle obstructs your plan:
For, though obscure and all confus'd his speech,
I could perceive a something, from his words,
As if some vow of constancy were made;
And his whole soul were wedded to the object.

D. ISABELLA.
Ah!—does he love elsewhere?

BLANCHE.
I judge so, Madam!

D. ISABELLA.
Whom does he love?

BLANCHE.
One of exalted Rank.

ISABELLA.
Alas!—but tell me whom?

BLANCHE.
He loves a Queen.

D. ISABELLA.
He loves a Queen!—Elvira is his choice.
He quits Castile, and goes with her to Arragon.—
Love, and not Glory, makes him quit my Court.

BLANCHE.
You should desire his absence, as the means
To root this fatal passion from your heart.

D. ISABELLA.
Have I, to lose him, aggrandiz'd him then?
And shall a Queen, in the same cradle nurs'd with me,
Rear'd, and protected, by my Royal Parents,
Castile her refuge, and her sole defence,
Shall she,—ungrateful as this traitor Carlos,—
Rob me of what I priz'd the most; of Carlos
Of ungrateful, artful Carlos rob me?—
—I will not take such pains to save his life:
No; let the ingrate fight, and let him die.

BLANCHE.
Why should his love, or his retreat offend you?
I know not which he loves, you or Elvira;
Nor can I comprehend your wrathful Jealousy.

D. ELVIRA.
Then thou hast never love's disquiet known.
Stormy and fearful does it make my mind,
And tempest every feeling of my heart.
Elvira has no loftiness, no pride;
More generous, more exalted, than myself,
She, with the noble spirit of a Queen,
Bestows her Crown; she is belov'd, ador'd;
Whilst I am—left, scorn'd, hated, and renounc'd.
My pride, that dares not chuse him King, yet, brooks not
His desertion.

BLANCHE.
Since you respect your honour
Too much to chuse him King, why wish his heart?

D. ISABELLA.
I love him.—Can I bear to be disdain'd?
No; let him doating to distraction love me:
Yet, so respect me, never to break silence.

BLANCHE.
Respect Your Self.—Combat, conceal, this passion.

D. ISABELLA.
Carlos contemns me, he can reign without me;
He loves Elvira, hence his false respect,
That dar'd not love me, but as Heaven is lov'd.
She loves him too, and to a Throne will raise him.
The Queen, her Mother, is indulgent, Blanche!
And her consent will sanctify their union;
A Parent's Judgment justifies the Child.
Elvira loves him, and will make him King.

BLANCHE.
Madam! 't is said, she will not now be Queen.
For Fame reports that yet her Brother lives.

D. ISABELLA.
It cannot be; he died in early infancy.

BLANCHE.
I but declare the rumour, which I heard,
That this Prince is not dead, and that he comes
Now with th'expected Deputies from Arragon.

D. ISABELLA.
The Queen of Arragon believes him dead.
But in a Son restor'd to prop her state,
How will her sorrowing, widow'd heart rejoice;
Let mine, though lost to ev'ry hope of bliss,
Expand benevolent to greet her joy.

(Exit followed by Blanche.)