University of Virginia Library

Act Fifth.

SCENE FIRST.

DONNA LEONORA, DONNA ELVIRA.
D. ELVIRA.
Has aught appear'd to justify the rumour,
That Heaven, in Carlos, sends you back a Son?

D. LEONORA.
The haughty Counts, and the whole Court agree,
That Carlos is Don Sancho, and my Son.—

D. ELVIRA.
He is my brother then?—

D. LEONORA.
No, my Elvira!
Carlos that name disowns. I have just seen him,
And 't was an interview that pain'd my soul.

SCENE SECOND.

DONNA ISABELLA, DONNA LEONORA, DONNA ELVIRA.
D. ISABELLA.
Let me not interrupt, but share your converse
If it regard your Son; what have you learn'd?

D. LEONORA.
No more enlighten'd are we than yourself;
But wait, with doubtful wonder and impatience,
To have this fateful mystery unravell'd.

D. ISABELLA.
But from whom comes the news of Garcia's death,
And this report, so widely spread, so eagerly
Receiv'd, that your Son lives? The different couriers,
Who for this month arrive, come but with Treaties,
From Arragon revolted in your favour;
Its Deputies by your appointment come,
This Day, to swear Allegiance to their Queen:
But of Don Sancho's life, or Garcia's death,
Why has the information been delay'd?

D. LEONORA.
Nor my Son's life, nor Garcia's death, were known,
Till Raymond join'd, last night, the Deputies.
When first from Saragossa they departed;
Our party were besieging, in their last fortress,
The traitor Garcia, and his rebel Son;
They being slain, the garrison surrender'd:
And Raymond, who was prisoner there, set free.
He instantly proclaim'd that their Prince liv'd;
And he set out, with speed, to seek Don Sancho;
Thinking, with him, to o'ertake the Deputies,
Who, of his Life, or Garcia's death, were ignorant.
Last night he join'd them, after their Messengers
To me had been dispatch'd: and he inform'd them,
That their young Prince resides, here, in your Court.
All anxious as I am, no more I know.
I have not yet seen Raymond, so intent
Is he in searching for my Son throughout
Your hosts. But here, each moment, I expect him.

D. ISABELLA
(going).
I hope he comes to bring you certain tidings.—
Fearing to interrupt, I leave you, Madam!

D. LEONORA.
Remain! For this report concerns us equally.
If my Son live, a Monarch claims your hand;
And heaven rewards you for your Fathers virtues.
That Crown he strove to gain for my Elvira,
Shall by his Child be worn. Thus, whilst he toil'd
For others good, he aggrandiz'd his Race.

D. ELVIRA.
My Friend! henceforth my Sister, and my Queen,
Heaven has decreed my Diadem to you:
Reign with my Brother! and be happy long.

SCENE THIRD.

DONNA ISABELLA, DONNA LEONORA, DONNA ELVIRA, BLANCHE.
D. LEONORA.
What news brings Blanche, with that astonish'd look?
Is my Son found?

BLANCHE.
No, Madam! no!—

D. ISABELLA.
What agitates thee thus?

BLANCHE.
O cruel fate!—Oh! Why did Carlos stay?

D. ISABELLA.
Speak! What of Him?

BLANCHE.
Dishonour'd! and undone!

D. ELVIRA.
Dishonour'd, Blanche!—Carlos dishonour'd?—
It cannot be!

BLANCHE.
His Father is arriv'd—
A peasant Shepherd is the Sire of Carlos.

D. ISABELLA.
Who told thee this?

BLANCHE.
I saw their meeting, Madam!
And all the court is witness to the fact.

D. ISABELLA.
I scarcely know to credit thy report.

D. ELVIRA.
Ah! fortune, how unjust!

D. ISABELLA.
Unjust indeed!
Is this great soul and virtue so sublime,
Sprung from a beggar's race?—What then is blood?
If Carlos, He, whose high, heroic worth
Deserves the Throne, his prowess oft has guarded,
Was in a cottage born, from shepherd parents?
Has Manrique's blood, or my own royal stream,
E'er form'd a hero that transcends this Carlos?
And, though he sprung in an ungenial soil,
His vigorous soul throve midst its scanty nurture,
And pair'd with princes nurs'd by fortune's hand.

D. ELVIRA.
And must this true-born Eagle be disdain'd,
Because his aërie was not plac'd on high?
Men should take rank, not from their birth, but virtue.

D. ISABELLA.
But how did Carlos bear this sad reverse?

BLANCHE.
Oh! with deep anguish, and exalted courage.
Along the audience-hall he graceful walk'd,
And, ever and anon, with courteous speech,
Check'd the false rumour, as he pass'd the crowd:
But all your court was bent to change his name;
And murmur'd round, “Don Sancho, Prince of Arragon.”
When a poor, mean, old, man, in shepherd's garb,
Burst through your guards, and clasp'd him in his arms.
“Why didst thou leave me in my age?” he cried.
Carlos turn'd pale; then blush'd from pride and shame.
But duty triumph'd, and the hero wept;
He clasp'd his aged Parent to his breast;
And “O my Father!” “O my long-lost Son!”
Echo'd responsive, midst their sighs and tears.

D. ISABELLA.
Disdainful of his birth, he loves his Sire;
Nature and Virtue, rule his noble soul.

BLANCHE.
Though strange to tell, these cries of grief and joy
Were disbeliev'd. The court around them gather'd,
And this poor, peasant Shepherd, spite of Carlos,
Is deem'd dishonest, torn from his arms,
And roughly treated. 'T is a cheat they cry,
A dark impostor, by the Counts suborn'd,
To throw disgrace on Carlos, and excuse
Their proud refusal of the proffer'd combat.

D. ELVIRA.
'T is surely so!

D. ISABELLA.
We must examine this;
And, if the Counts be guilty, they shall find,
Such malice sins beyond a Prince's mercy.

BLANCHE.
The Counts themselves deserve your admiration;
With pains this incredulity they strengthen,
And generously attest the whole a cheat.
Not, Madam! that they take this mean, low malice
Upon themselves; but they declare, that one
Of their domestics is the guilty author;
Who, hoping thus to please them, has instructed
This poor, mean wretch, how to affront brave Carlos.
Each, with avidity, believes this tale;
The Counts, to gain more credence to their story,
Have caus'd this aged man to be imprison'd.

D. ISABELLA.
What must we think of this?

BLANCHE.

SCENE FOURTH.

DONNA ISABELLA, DONNA LEONORA, DONNA ELVIRA, BLANCHE, DON CARLOS, DON MANRIQUE, DON LOPEZ.
D. CARLOS.
Behold the fruit of my obedience, Madam!
The fatal secret of my birth is known;
Your will expos'd me to this dire mischance.
My aged Father from my arms is torn,
Falsely accus'd, unjustly led to prison.

D. MANRIQUE.
Carlos! this Shepherd's claim disgraces you.
We think him one suborn'd to stain your honour;
He is to prison led for this injustice.

D. CARLOS.
I am this Shepherd's Son. He is no cheat,
No infamous impostor; though mean of blood,
He is not vile of soul. And I renounce
More willingly, the names of Count and Marquis,
Than a Son's sentiments of love and duty.
Nought can efface the sacred character
Of Nature's ties, within an honest breast.
I left my parents, I disclaim'd my name:
My soul for honour sigh'd, for glory panted,
E'en in that cottage where my fate had cast me.
Your courtly maxims warr'd against my hopes;
The road of Honour, and the course of Glory,
Were open but to Lords. I had no means
To rise, but to conceal my birth. I learn'd
To blush at what, in other courts, would be
My praise,—That in five years a peasant youth
Rose from the Ranks, distinguished by his Sword,
To be, though so contemn'd, what now I am.
(To the Queen.)
Madam! command that they should free my Father.
I claim your justice, though I stand degraded.
That I am known, I think disgrace enough,
To satisfy the hate of my proud scorners;
Let them not vilify my honest Parent.

D. MANRIQUE
(to the Queen).
Force this great heart still to preserve his glory;
Prevent him from attesting his own tale.
We cannot bear that this exalted Carlos,
Beneath whose arm the Moors so oft have trembled,
To whom this Kingdom so indebted stands,
Should, from his birth, receive a stain indelible.
A higher rank his godlike valour merits,
Than custom gives to such ignoble blood.
I now must own such custom is unwise,
Alike impolitic, unjust, and cruel.
The man, whose deeds merit a princely rank,
Though in a cottage born, that rank should grace.

D. LOPEZ.
Most true.—But as that custom is inveterate,
We must our conduct shape to the now exigence.
In our deceit deign, gracious Queen! to aid us.
The people love their errour, they all think
This peasant Shepherd a suborn'd impostor.
This errour authorize, in spite of Carlos.
In justice to his great exploits, defend
His Honour, and preserve his Rank and Glory.
Alvarez strives this Father to persuade
To shew his love, by now disowning Carlos;
Sustain this artifice our pity rais'd.

D. CARLOS.
How am I fallen! If I excite your pity!—
Retain your scorn, resume your enmity!
Now my ill fate your envy gratifies,
It soothes your pride to pity my disgrace.
But ostentatious shew is this your virtue,
Which may some ambush haply plan for mine.
The glory Heaven has will'd that I should reap,
Has made my name deserving of remembrance.
My Honours, Count! would be too dearly purchas'd,
If, by an act of baseness, I retain'd them.
Though I conceal'd my birth, because 'twas mean,
Yet know, proud Lords! I'll not disown my Father;
Nor criminate him, e'en to guard my rank,
And shield my pride, from your contemptuous scorn.

D. MANRIQUE.
Noblest of minds!—Yield to those rigid maxims,
Which custom has establish'd firm as laws:
Preserve your honour, and disown your birth.

D. CARLOS.
Since known to you, I care not, Lords! who knows it.
Who tells the meanness of my birth, must tell,
That Sancho, a poor, honest peasant's Son,
From bondage sav'd two Counts: and lately held
In tribulation two illustrious rivals
On their Queen's choice. Sancho, a peasant's Son,
Holds in his hand the power to seat a Sovereign
Upon that Throne, his arm has propp'd, his sword
Has twice redeem'd.—Spite of himself, this Sancho,
Though but a shepherd's Son, was thought a Prince.
Hence learn what mind and courage can achieve,
And contemplate the building they have rear'd.—
That want of birth must raze this goodly fabric,
Is an unwholesome maxim in the state,
Which saps its vigour, and enslaves its people.
Virtue or in the Peasant or the Prince,
Should meet the same impartial, just reward.
Yet, notwithstanding this unjust disgrace,
All noble minds will value me the more,
When they reflect, how much from nothing, (after
High Heaven's example) my bold heart has made.

D. LOPEZ.
This generous pride proclaims a nobler birth;
It testifies against your own report;
And wraps again, in mystery's dark veil,
What we thought fully clear'd. No, valiant Carlos!
A shepherd's son such sentiments ne'er spoke.
Your haughty soul is so sublimely form'd,
That I believe the errour we have spread,
Rather than your account. And, I maintain,
That you are not the Son of shepherd Nuna.

D. CARLOS.
All-powerful instinct witnesses I am:
Else would my filial love curb pride, and shame.
Which like a whirlwind rage within my soul.

D. MANRIQUE.
(To the Queen.)

D. ISABELLA.
I know not which, my Lords! I most admire,
His noble nature or your generous minds,
Thus rendering honour to illustrious worth.
(To Carlos.)
And you, miraculous Hero! whose great soul
Disdains to take advantage of the errour
Of a whole people, who themselves deceive;
Say! if amidst the griefs, which you experience,
I can in aught console your mind, or mitigate
That destiny, your spirit nobly braves?
I, in detaining, have disgrace brought on you;—
Through my whole life, I shall regret your fate;
And wish your birth had equall'd your high merit,
That I no bounds might set to its reward.

D. CARLOS.
I bow resign'd to what just Heaven ordains;
But consolation I can never know;—
Yet, it relieves my fate, that you lament it.—

D. ISABELLA.

D. CARLOS.
I thank you, Madam!—but—I must forego them.—
(D. Carlos takes his sword from his belt, and, kneeling, presents it to the Queen.)
This from your Royal Brother I receiv'd,—
I now resign it for some worthier hand.—

D. ISABELLA.
Oh! pain me not to this extreme degree—
Carlos!!—retain your sword!—for my sake use it—

D. CARLOS
(rising, and half-drawing the sword).
With transport, Madam!—for your sake I'll use it.

(Going.)
D. ISABELLA.
Stay, Carlos! stay—I understand your purpose;—
'Tis self-destruction—

D. ELVIRA.
O Carlos! let me plead!—

D. LEONORA.
Why art thou not my Son! For pity's sake!—

D. CARLOS
(with assumed composure).
What cause for this alarm?—these trembling fears?
Madam! I must retire,—I, to your goodness,
My Father's safety earnestly commend.

D. MANRIQUE.
On one condition only, grant it, Queen!
(To Carlos.)
Swear no attempt to make against your life.

D. ISABELLA.
I value much thy life.—Oh! be entreated!
Summon thy Virtue, and control despair;
Above all praise remain a bright example,
Subdue thyself, and be the first of Heroes.
Carlos! I pray thee,—give me thy word to live!— (After a pause.)

Plant not eternal thorns within that heart,
Which loves thy virtues, and esteems thy valour;
Add to the Hero's fame the Saint's submission;
And patient bear the present torturing hour.
Thy death would darkly cloud my future days;
And ev'ry hour embitter with regret.
O, hapless Carlos! promise me to live!—

D. CARLOS.
Till my heart breaks—Here let the cordage crack!—

SCENE FIFTH.

DONNA ISABELLA, DONNA LEONORA, DONNA ELVIRA, BLANCHE, DON CARLOS, DON MANRIQUE, DON LOPEZ, DON ALVAREZ.
D. ISABELLA
(to Alvarez).
Say, what success?—Hast thou obtain'd thy suit?
And will this Peasant quit his claim to Carlos?

D. ALVAREZ.
Nor prayers, nor bribe can win this wretched Shepherd,
To aid in our design. I strove in vain,
By every argument, to make him feel
How irksome his ungracious presence was.
That he disgrac'd a generous, valiant Son,
Ruin'd his fortune, stigmatiz'd his honour:
That if he lov'd him, he must now declare,
'T was a mean trick he had been brib'd to play him.
To all the reasons I could urge, I added menaces—

D. CARLOS.
My Father's virtue has withstood them all?—

D. ALVAREZ.
Unshaken, unseduc'd—He claims his Son—
And for his loss of fortune, or of honour,
He says that he can make him a great Lord.
Simple and credulous he this believes;
Because his wife a hundred times has told him,
That at the sight of a poor paltry token,
The Queen of Arragon will Carlos aggrandize.
I, won by the old man's tears, and earnest prayers,
Present this homely pledge, this Iron Casket.

(Don Alvarez presents an Iron Casket to Donna Leonora; who starts at the sight of it, and leans for support upon her Daughter.)
D. ISABELLA.
What trouble, at this sight, shakes your whole frame?

D. LEONORA.
Well may my soul be shaken to behold it.
That Casket, Queen! is mine: and it contains
The marks by which I am to know my Son,
E'en by the King his Father testified.
Whether he lives, or not, this may declare.

Enter Guard.
GUARD
(to Donna Leonora).
Madam! Don Raymond begs an audience of you.

D. LEONORA.
Swift let him come.
(Exit Guard.)
(To Isabella.)
Forgive my impatient ardour.
Raymond alone can clear this mystery.

SCENE SIXTH.

DONNA ISABELLA, DONNA LEONORA, DONNA ELVIRA, BLANCHE, DON CARLOS, DON MANRIQUE, DON LOPEZ, DON ALVAREZ, DON RAYMOND.
D. LEONORA.
Oh! welcome, Raymond! Hast thou found my Son?

D. RAYMOND.
I hope he lives; yet, where he is I know not.
For from five years of bondage just releas'd,
I've vainly sought him, where, by the late King's order,
I with such happy secrecy had plac'd him.
His foster Father thought him his own Son;
For, being absent when a dead child was born,
Your living Son was by his wife receiv'd;
And with kind care was nurtur'd as her own.
A Priest, by me intrusted, form'd his mind,
As 't were through friendly charity and love:
And from this pious Pastor have I learn'd
That your Son fled, at Sixteen years of age,
As he imagin'd, bent to follow arms,
From which no prayers could win his princely soul.

D. LEONORA.
But whither went he, Raymond! Can they tell?

D. RAYMOND.
Large sums of gold were oft mysteriously
From him receiv'd; but no trace given to find him.
Anxious, uncertain of his fate, five years
Did his false parents mourn. When by a neighbour,
Just from Castile return'd, they were inform'd,
That he had seen their son, but in such glory,
And credit, at this Court, that his heart fail'd him,
He neither dar'd accost him, nor declare,
That he had known him once a cottage resident.
The Sire, with joy transported, at such news,
Set out to seek this boasted Son, two days
Before I reach'd his dwelling, where I thought
To find Don Sancho safe. Hither I bent
My course, o'ertook the Deputies from Arragon,
And told all this to them. In vain I seek
To trace this Peasant, or to find your Son.

D. LEONORA.
Look round this presence, if amongst these Lords—

D. RAYMOND
(at the feet of Carlos).
My royal Master! hail!

D. LEONORA.
My Son! My Son!

(She makes an effort to go to Carlos, but sinks greatly agitated upon Blanche.)
D. LOPEZ.
Hail, King of Arragon!—Prince! we exult
With heart-felt zeal, and homage pay your virtues.

D. CARLOS.
Still do I fear some strange reverse of fortune.
But let us see, if the King's testimony
Agree with what Don Raymond has declar'd;
I dare not think such happiness awaits me.

D. LEONORA
(recovering and turning to Carlos).
Are you alone incredulous? Ope we
This Casket. Manrique and Lopez both well know
What it contains.

(Lopez presents and holds the Casket: its contents seen, the Queen, Leonora, takes out a writing.)
D. LEONORA.
Raymond! whose writing's this?

D. RAYMOND.
Don Sancho's Father's; Royal Ferdinand's.

D. LEONORA.
Don Manrique! read, and force him to believe.

D. MANRIQUE
(reads).
To Leonora, Queen of Arragon and Wife of Ferdinand.

D. LEONORA
(to Carlos, who kneels to her).
Thy mind, thy courage, all attest my Son.
O! teach me to deserve this blessing, Heaven!
This more than all a Mother's hopes could ask,
This ecstasy of joy, too great for words—
O! bless my Son, and guard his virtues still.

(She raises Carlos.)
D. CARLOS.
No longer can I doubt my birth—My Sister
(Embraces D. Elvira.)
(To D. Isabella.)
Thus grac'd, and thus distinguish'd, still I sigh,
As incomplete my bliss, if you forbid
My hopes.

D. ISABELLA.
He is to hope superiour, Prince!
Who can command his wish. The power to name
A Monarch for Castile, I with my Ring
Bestow'd. I begg'd you to remain, to give
That pledge into Don Sancho's hand; too much
I him esteem, e'er to revoke that prayer.

D. CARLOS.
I thank you, Madam! with a grateful heart.
I feel the bliss of this ecstatic moment;
My heart pent up, and bursting through despair,
Heaven has reliev'd by an unheard-of grace.
No more I wonder at my high ambition,
My Queen, and Sister shar'd my hopeless heart;
The voice of love, and nature undistinguish'd.

D. ELVIRA.
My Heart, respecting still my rank, repaid
That love, which kindred blood inspires and owes,

D. CARLOS.
If as a Brother then you love and honour me,
You will accept a husband from my hand.

D. ELVIRA.
If on Alvarez, Prince! your choice is fix'd,
To all men I preferr'd him, save yourself.

D. CARLOS
(to D. Leonora).
This fair alliance has your sanction, Madam?
(D. Leonora bows assent.)
(To Alvarez, presenting D. Elvira.)
Accept the brightest gem I can bestow,
My darling Sister for your bride, Alvarez!
(To Manrique and Lopez.)
And you, my Lords! though you disdain'd my birth,
Yet when these doubts arose, judged in my favour,
With such generous warmth; by that have shown,
That your disdain from honour sprang, not pride;
Your maxims wrong, but virtuous your intent.
Accept my friendship, and receive my thanks.

D. RAYMOND
(to Isabella).
Permit the Arragonians to behold him.
Our Deputies impatient wait for Audience;
And burn with eagerness to see their King.

D. ISABELLA
(to Leonora).
Let us in public give them audience, Madam!
That All may hear this miracle explain'd.
But let the honest Shepherd share the joy,
His coming with that Casket makes complete.
(To D. Carlos and D. Leonora.)
The trials of your hearts now end in transport.
That virtue, which our Duties all enjoin,
Though strongly tried, still meets its sure reward;
A peaceful Conscience, and approving Heaven.
Firm midst the Storm, the good Man steers his way;
Whilst frustrate lightnings innocently play;
He views their baffled rage with generous scorn;
Or gild his triumph, or his fall adorn.