Friedrich Schiller

“ Look on me, Posa, as an orphan child, Found near the throne, and nurtured by thy love. Indeed, I know not what a father is. I am a monarch's son. Oh, were it so, As my heart tells me that it surely is, That thou from millions hast been chosen out To comprehend my being; if it be true, That all-creating nature has designed In me to reproduce a Roderigo, And on the morning of our life attuned Our souls' soft concords to the selfsame key; If one poor tear, which gives my heart relief, To thee were dearer than my father's favor—— MARQUIS. Oh, it is dearer far than all the world! ”

“ But thus in tears, I spurn thee from my feet. A coward's guilt alone should wash its stains In such ignoble streams. The man who weeps Without a blush will ne'er want cause for tears! CARLOS. Who is this man? By what mistake of nature Has he thus strayed amongst mankind? A tear Is man's unerring, lasting attribute. Whose eye is dry was ne'er of woman born! Oh, teach the eye that ne'er hath overflowed, The timely science of a tear—thou'lt need The moist relief in some dark hour of woe. KING. Think'st thou to shake thy father's strong mistrust With specious words? ”

“ The sacred ties of honor are not broken With so much ease, as some would fain persuade me. Marquis, you know mankind. Just such a man As you I long have wished for—you are kind— Cheerful—and deeply versed in human nature— Therefore I've chosen you—— MARQUIS (surprised and alarmed) . Me, sire! KING. You stand Before your king and ask no special favor— For yourself nothing!—that is new to me— You will be just—ne'er weakly swayed by passion. Watch my son close—search the queen's inmost heart. You shall have power to speak with her in private. Retire. ”

“ CARLOS. What writes the queen to me? MARQUIS. Have you not read this instant? CARLOS. I? Oh yes. MARQUIS. What is't disturbs you now? CARLOS (reads the tablet again, delighted and fervently) . Angel of Heaven! I will be so,—I will be worthy of thee. Love elevates great minds. So come what may, Whatever thou commandest, I'll perform. She writes that I must hold myself prepared For a great enterprise! What can she mean? Dost thou not know? MARQUIS. And, Carlos, if I knew, Say, art thou now prepared to hear it from me? CARLOS. Have I offended thee? I was distracted. Roderigo, pardon me. ”

“ QUEEN. Too late to be a man! O Carlos, Carlos! How nobly shows our virtue when the heart Breaks in its exercise! The hand of Heaven Has set you up on high,—far higher, prince, Than millions of your brethren. All she took From others she bestowed with partial hand On thee, her favorite; and millions ask, What was your merit, thus before your birth To be endowed so far above mankind? Up, then, and justify the ways of Heaven; Deserve to take the lead of all the world, And make a sacrifice ne'er made before. CARLOS. I will, I will; I have a giant's strength To win your favor ”

“ KING. Thou speakest like a dreamer. This high office Demands a man—and not a stripling's arm. CARLOS. It but demands a human being, father: And that is what Duke Alva ne'er hath been. KING. Terror alone can tie rebellion's hands: Humanity were madness. Thy soft soul Is tender, son: they'll tremble at the duke. Desist from thy request. CARLOS. Despatch me, sire, To Flanders with the army—dare rely E'en on my tender soul. The name of prince, The royal name emblazoned on my standard, Conquers where Alva's butchers but dismay. ”

“ I Love without hope, love guiltily, love madly, With anguish, and with peril of my life; I see, I see it all, and yet I love. MARQUIS. The queen—does she know of your passion? CARLOS. Could I Reveal it to her? She is Philip's wife— She is the queen, and this is Spanish ground, Watched by a jealous father, hemmed around By ceremonial forms, how, how could I Approach her unobserved? 'Tis now eight months, Eight maddening months, since the king summoned me Home from my studies, since I have been doomed To look on her, adore her day by day, And all the while be silent as the grave! ”

“ Is it true I have no faithful servant! ALVA. How? KING. A blow Aimed at my life in its most vital part! Full well 'twas known, yet no one warned me of it. ALVA (with a look of astonishment) . A blow aimed at your majesty! and yet Escape your Alva's eye? KING (showing him letters) . Know you this writing? ALVA. It is the prince's hand. KING (a pause—watches the DUKE closely) . Do you suspect Then nothing? Often have you cautioned me Gainst his ambition. Was there nothing more Than his ambition should have made me tremble? ALVA. Ambition is a word of largest import, And much it may comprise. ”

“ You've wronged her deeply, and she rules the king. CARLOS (confidently) . But she is virtuous! MARQUIS. She may be so From love's mere selfishness. But much I fear Such virtue—well I know it: know how little It hath the power to soar to that ideal, Which, first conceived in sweet and stately grace, From the pure soul's maternal soil, puts forth Spontaneous shoots, nor asks the gardener's aid To nurse its lavish blossoms into life. 'Tis but a foreign plant, with labor reared, And warmth that poorly imitates the south, In a cold soil and an unfriendly clime. ”

“ CARLOS. I must brave My king's displeasure, and prefer my suit Once more, it is the last. Trust Flanders to me! I must away from Spain. To linger here Is to draw breath beneath the headsman's axe: The air lies heavy on me in Madrid Like murder on a guilty soul—a change, An instant change of clime alone can cure me. If you would save my life, despatch me straight Without delay to Flanders. KING (with affected coldness) . Invalids, Like thee, my son—need not be tended close, And ever watched by the physician's eye— Thou stayest in Spain—the duke will go to Flanders. ”

“ QUEEN (endeavoring to collect herself) . Carlos, arise! We must not now unnerve each other thus. The mighty dead will not be honored now By fruitless tears. Tears are for petty sorrows! He gave himself for thee! With his dear life He purchased thine. And shall this precious blood Flow for a mere delusion of the brain? Oh, Carlos, I have pledged myself for thee. On that assurance did he flee from hence More satisfied. Oh, do not falsify My word. CARLOS (with animation) To him I'll raise a monument Nobler than ever honored proudest monarch, And o'er his dust a paradise shall bloom! ”

“ KING. And, say, for whom did he desert me thus? A boy,—my son? Oh, no, believe it not! A Posa would not perish for a boy; The scanty flame of friendship could not fill A Posa's heart. It beat for human kind. His passion was the world, and the whole course Of future generations yet unborn. To do them service he secured a throne— And lost it. Such high treason 'gainst mankind Could Posa e'er forgive himself? Oh, no; I know his feelings better. Not that he Carlos preferred to Philip, but the youth— The tender pupil,—to the aged monarch. ”

“ LERMA. The first was due To you, the other to the king. CARLOS. You're right. LERMA. And still I've thought you, prince, a man of honor. CARLOS. Then you have judged me truly. LERMA. But all virtue Is spotless till it's tried. CARLOS. Some stand the trial. LERMA. A powerful monarch's favor is a prize Worth seeking for; and this alluring bait Has ruined many a virtue. CARLOS. Truly said! LERMA. And oftentimes 'tis prudent to discover— What scarce can longer be concealed. CARLOS. Yes, prudent It may be, but you say you've ever known The marquis prove himself a man of honor. ”

“ But still 'tis hard To trust one proof alone. Who brings the charge? And oh! if this were possible—that she, The queen, so foully could pollute her honor, Then how much easier were it to believe An Eboli may be a slanderer! Does not that priest detest my son and her? And can I doubt that Alva broods revenge? My wife has higher worth than all together. MARQUIS. And there exists besides in woman's soul A treasure, sire, beyond all outward show, Above the reach of slander—female virtue! KING. Marquis! those thoughts are mine. It costs too much To sink so low as they accuse the queen. ”

“ The king's enraged against you. Your liberty, if not your life's in danger! Ask me no further—I have stolen away To give you warning—fly this very instant! CARLOS. Heaven will protect me! LERMA. As the queen observed To me, this moment, you must leave Madrid This very day, and fly to Brussels, prince. Postpone it not, I pray you. The commotion Favors your flight. The queen, with this design, Has raised it. No one will presume so far As to lay hand on you. Swift steeds await you At the Carthusian convent, and behold, Here are your weapons, should you be attacked. ”

“ This hand has yet Two costly presents to bestow!—a crown— And Carlos' heart:—and both these gifts perchance Upon one mortal!—both on one—Oh, great And godlike gift-almost too much for one! How if you share the treasure, prince! A queen Knows naught of love—and she who truly loves Cares little for a crown! 'Twere better, prince, Then to divide the treasure—and at once— What says my prince? Have you done so already? Have you in truth? And do I know the blest one? CARLOS. Thou shalt. I will unfold myself to thee, To thy unspotted innocence, dear maid, Thy pure, unblemished nature. ”

“ And should you blush to indulge the pure desire To call heroic virtue into life? Can it affect King Philip, that his works Of noblest art, in the Escurial, raise Immortal longings in the painter's soul, Who stands entranced before them? Do the sounds That slumber in the lute, belong alone To him who buys the chords? With ear unmoved He may preserve his treasure:—he has bought The wretched right to shiver it to atoms, But not the power to wake its silver tones, Or, in the magic of its sounds, dissolve. Truth is created for the sage, as beauty Is for the feeling heart. They own each other. ”

“ And should I feel more anxious for my throne Than for the partner of my bosom? No! My sword and Alva can protect my people, My eye alone assures thy love. QUEEN. My liege, If that I have offended—— KING. I am called The richest monarch in the Christian world; The sun in my dominions never sets. All this another hath possessed before, And many another will possess hereafter. That is mine own. All that the monarch hath Belongs to chance—Elizabeth to Philip. This is the point in which I feel I'm mortal. QUEEN. What fear you, sire? KING. Should these gray hairs not fear? ”

“ Scarce loved at best. My claim to some small favor lay in this— I was his only child! 'Tis over! She Hath blest him with a daughter—and who knows What slumbering ills the future hath in store? DOMINGO. You jest, my prince. All Spain adores its queen. Shall it be thought that you, of all the world, Alone should view her with the eyes of hate— Gaze on her charms, and yet be coldly wise? How, prince? The loveliest lady of her time, A queen withal, and once your own betrothed? No, no, impossible—it cannot be! Where all men love, you surely cannot hate. Carlos could never so belie himself. ”

“ Oh, this Eboli! She were an angel to me, and before Her glory would I bend me prostrate down, In reverence deep as thine, if she were not The mistress of thy secret. CARLOS. See how vain, How idle are thy fears! What proofs has she That will not stamp her maiden brow with shame? Say, will she purchase with her own dishonor The wretched satisfaction of revenge? MARQUIS. Ay! to recall a blush, full many a one Has doomed herself to infamy. CARLOS (with increased vehemence) . Nay, that Is far too harsh—and cruel! She is proud And noble; well I know her, and fear nothing. ”

“ FERIA. Prince Carlos—— KING. Had a friend who died for him; For him! With me he might have shared an empire. How he looked down upon me! From the throne Kings look not down so proudly. It was plain How vain his conquest made him. His keen sorrow Confessed how great his loss. Man weeps not so For aught that's perishable. Oh, that he might But live again! I'd give my Indies for it! Omnipotence! thou bring'st no comfort to me: Thou canst not stretch thine arm into the grave To rectify one little act, committed With hasty rashness, 'gainst the life of man. The dead return no more. ”

“ I left your royal mother sick at heart, Bereft of every joy save only this, To know her daughter happy on the throne Of our imperial Spain. QUEEN. Could she be aught But happy in the dear remembrances Of relatives so kind—in the sweet thoughts Of the old time when—Sir, you've visited Full many a court in these your various travels, And seen strange lands and customs manifold; And now, they say, you mean to keep at home A greater prince in your retired domain Than is King Philip on his throne—a freer. You're a philosopher; but much I doubt If our Madrid will please you. ”

“ A hectic red burns on your pallid cheek, And your lips quiver with a feverish heat. What must I think, dear prince? No more I see The youth of lion heart, to whom I come The envoy of a brave and suffering people. For now I stand not here as Roderigo— Not as the playmate of the stripling Carlos— But, as the deputy of all mankind, I clasp thee thus:—'tis Flanders that clings here Around thy neck, appealing with my tears To thee for succor in her bitter need. This land is lost, this land so dear to thee, If Alva, bigotry's relentless tool, Advance on Brussels with his Spanish laws. ”

“ Amid the reeling guests Pietro sat. An angel at his side— An angel, whom he knows, and who to him Even in his dreams, seemed ne'er so beautiful. A single glance revealed what once was his— Revealed what now was lost to him forever. EBOLI. O poor Fernando! QUEEN. Surely, sir, your tale Is ended? Nay, it must be. MARQUIS. No, not quite. QUEEN. Did you not say Fernando was your friend? MARQUIS. I have no dearer in the world. EBOLI. But pray Proceed, sir, with your story. MARQUIS. Nay, the rest Is very sad—and to recall it sets My sorrow fresh abroach. ”

“ Choose then within these realms The office where you best may satisfy This noble impulse. MARQUIS. 'Tis not to be found. KING. How! MARQUIS. What your majesty would spread abroad, Through these my hands—is it the good of men? Is it the happiness that my pure love Would to mankind impart? Before such bliss Monarchs would tremble. No! Court policy Has raised up new enjoyments for mankind. Which she is always rich enough to grant; And wakened, in the hearts of men, new wishes Which such enjoyments only can content. In her own mint she coins the truth—such truth! ”

“ Devote to your own people's bliss The kingly power, which has too long enriched The greatness of the throne alone. Restore The prostrate dignity of human nature, And let the subject be, what once he was, The end and object of the monarch's care, Bound by no duty, save a brother's love. And when mankind is to itself restored, Roused to a sense of its own innate worth, When freedom's lofty virtues proudly flourish— Then, sire, when you have made your own wide realms The happiest in the world, it then may be Your duty to subdue the universe. ”

“ I am the last of all, then, to discern it— The last in all my realm? ALVA (throwing himself at the KING'S feet) . Yes, I confess My guilt, most gracious monarch. I'm ashamed A coward prudence should have tied my tongue When truth, and justice, and my sovereign's honor Urged me to speak. But since all else are silent And since the magic spell of beauty binds All other tongues, I dare to give it voice; Though well I know a son's warm protestations, A wife's seductive charms and winning tears—— KING (suddenly with warmth) . ”

“ A youth scarce numbering three-and-twenty years. What thousands waste in riotous delights, Without remorse—the mind's more precious part— The bloom and strength of manhood—I have kept, Hoarding their treasures for the future king. What could unseat my Posa from my heart, If woman fail to do it? MARQUIS. I, myself! Say, could I love you, Carlos, warm as now, If I must fear you? CARLOS. That will never be. What need hast thou of me? What cause hast thou To stoop thy knee, a suppliant at the throne? Does gold allure thee? Thou'rt a richer subject Than I shall be a king! Dost covet honors? ”

“ Not to you Will I become a Nero—not to you!— All happiness shall not be blasted round me, And you at least, beneath my very eyes, May dare continue to remain a man. MARQUIS (quickly) . And, sire, my fellow-subjects? Not for me, Nor my own cause, I pleaded. Sire! your subjects—— KING. Nay, if you know so well how future times Will judge me, let them learn at least from you, That when I found a man, I could respect him. MARQUIS. Oh, let not the most just of kings at once Be the most unjust! In your realm of Flanders There are a thousand better men than I. But you—sire! ”