University of Virginia Library

SCENE V.

—A STREET IN SEVILLE AT DAYBREAK.
Enter Don Pedro.
PEDRO.
'Tis passing strange—not at his house—nor gone
To Valentar—lo, now! whom have we here?
'Tis Carlos' page—what, ho! thou imp of the night,
Whither art scudding, mischief?

PAGE.
Home, my lord.

PEDRO.
Where is thy master?

PAGE.
At the Anchor Inn, sir—
In very merry excellent good company.
Your pardon, sir, he charged me to go home
And I do fear to be abroad so early.
'Tis scarcely light.

PEDRO.
Run, lest thou meet thy shadow.
[Exit Page.
In merry company, and at the Anchor!
Why, this is stranger than the rest. Who's yonder?
Sure some fantastical, crack-witted lunatic
With a drawn sword too! 'Tis bad company
To meet abroad; but thanks to the King I'm armed.
The morning frowns upon the earth. Hark!—thunder;
Sure 'tis an evil day that speaks so sternly
From its cradle.—Carlos! by my good eyes—'tis he.

Enter Don Carlos very wildly, and in a disordered dress, with his sword drawn.
PEDRO.
Thou art the very man I'm seeking, Carlos.

CARLOS.
I seek not thee—get hence, and let me pass.

PEDRO.
Carlos, what ails thee?

CARLOS.
Madness ails me,
And murder, and all devilish hideous thoughts
Pursue me, man. In the name of God—begone.

PEDRO.
I come to thee from thy bride, my sister, Carlos—
Ye were to wed at noon.

CARLOS.
We were—we were—
But that's among the things that, like abortions,
Rot in the womb of time—we shall not wed.

PEDRO.
Sir!—but my soul stoops not to answer you—
You're drunk.

CARLOS.
You lie!

PEDRO.
Carlos!—pray come with me.
I would not in an evil hour do that
My after life should mourn for—come with me.
Thou art not fit to walk alone.

CARLOS.
You lie!
I am not drunk, but I am fix'd and sworn,
As there is light in heaven, and fire in hell,
To stab thee to the heart. Defend thyself.

PEDRO.
I will not—thou art mad.

CARLOS.
Hark to the thunderer—
The evil spirit laughs out of the skies
To see a brave man turn faint-hearted—hark!
Defend thyself, for I have sworn an oath,
And I will keep it—fare thee well, dear Pedro;
For, betwixt thee and me, the gulf that parts
The blessed and the damn'd is yawning wide.
To heaven with thee!

PEDRO.
Nay, if you press me thus,
[They fight.
I needs must parry. Carlos, hold! thou'rt frantic—
I cannot foil thee!—ah—I'm struck in the life.

[He falls.
CARLOS.
Struck, art thou? yea, 'tis blood, blood, reeking blood,
My feet are washed in it—it rises round me—
I swim—I drown in thy warm living blood.

PEDRO.
Whate'er hath urg'd thee to this deed I guess not—
Let not my sister know thy hand did strike me,
And do thou swear, for thou keep'st well an oath,
To wed her. Do not leave her desolate—
Do not abandon her, I do beseech thee;
But let thy love for her redeem my death.
Forsake her not—forsake her not, dear Carlos.
Oh, my Estrella—oh!

[He dies.
(A violent storm of thunder and lightning.)
CARLOS.
Yea, thou grim thunderer,
Hast thou a voice to curse, and none to warn?
Pedro! ho, Pedro, hear'st thou not up yonder,
How the loud voices of the night call to thee?
Arise, wake, wake, oh! wake—ha! ha! ha! ha!—
He's dead!—what's dead? here be his limbs,
The same that folded in the living soul—
Here is the very likeness he did wear,
And yet he's dead. Should there not come some change
Over the dead?—the subtle soul is gone,
And here's the gory gate I open'd for it.
Ay, roll, roll, roll, thou noisy watchman, roll—
Call up the world to witness this foul slaughter—
It is the voice that, when the earth first tasted
Her children's blood, called from the clouds to Cain—
Oh! damned life, that art so soon set free,
Come, let me give thee wings.

Enter Arias, with servants bearing torches.
ARIAS.
Hold, madman, hold!
What butchery is here, Don Carlos?

CARLOS.
Ay,
That is my name—men have not yet found out
A curse to tack to't foul and dark enough.
Bring lights around—see here, here is one murdered,
Look where the slimy blood comes oozing out;
Just now it gushed out like an angry torrent,
And bare the spirit on its crimson waves.
I have done this,—ha! ha! ha!—how ye stare
Look at my clotted sword, look at my face,
Bear I not stabber writ upon my forehead?

ARIAS.
Ring the alarm bell! call the city guard up!

(In the distance voices are heard, “Which way? Yonder in the cross street.” Enter Vasco and Sancho, supporting Hyacinth, singing and dancing, drunkenly; the alarm bell rings—thunder and lightning.)
CARLOS.
See where heav'ns torches glare with livid light,
Flashing around the avenger's chariot wheels,
That bound along the sky! The world spins round—
The solid earth sinks in with me—the thick
And palpable air is full of fiery rings,
That scorch mine eye-balls—O!—

(He falls upon the body.)
HYACINTH.
Let me go—let me go—I will see—oh!
Vasco, oh—oh!—look here.

VASCO.

Come hence—ye mock this terrible sight with your
drunken gaping. Sir, can I help you?

ARIAS.
No, sir, I thank you; for here comes the guard.
Raise both these bodies—one of them is cold,
In the other one life doth but play the truant—
It will return. There is some dismal riddle
Hid among these dark deeds, I cannot guess at;
The hand of day must wind this tangled skein.
On to the Alcade's house.
[Exeunt guard, bearing the bodies.
The sheeted lightnings
Stretch their blue wings, and whiz above the earth—
'Tis a fit hour for such a bloody tragedy,
And nature, with her children's stormy passions,
Hold fearful sympathy. Follow me.—Good night.
If you hereafter should be called on, sir,
To witness this foul business—

VASCO.
I shall be
My duty's slave, my lord; but I must hope
To be spar'd such an office. Come, thou sleepy sack,
Thou'rt heavy drunk now. Come, I cannot carry thee.

[Exeunt omnes severally.