Don Carlos - Friedrich Schiller (e reader pdf best .TXT) 📗

For their own native land.

EBOLI.
But then how lone, How dull and lifeless it is here! We might As well be in La Trappe.

QUEEN.
I cannot see it. To me Madrid alone is lifeless. But What saith our duchess to it?

OLIVAREZ.
Why, methinks, Your majesty, since kings have ruled in Spain, It hath been still the custom for the court To pass the summer months alternately Here and at Pardo, - in Madrid, the winter.

QUEEN. Well, I suppose it has! Duchess, you know I've long resigned all argument with you.

MONDECAR. Next month Madrid will be all life and bustle. They're fitting up the Plaza Mayor now, And we shall have rare bull-fights; and, besides, A grand auto da fe is promised us.

QUEEN. Promised? This from my gentle Mondecar!

MONDECAR. Why not? 'Tis only heretics they burn!

QUEEN. I hope my Eboli thinks otherwise!

EBOLI. What, I? I beg your majesty may think me As good a Christian as the marchioness.

QUEEN. Alas! I had forgotten where I am, - No more of this! We were speaking, I think, About the country? And methinks this month Has flown away with strange rapidity. I counted on much pleasure, very much, From our retirement here, and yet I have not Found that which I expected. Is it thus With all our hopes? And yet I cannot say One wish of mine is left ungratified.

OLIVAREZ. You have not told us, Princess Eboli, If there be hope for Gomez, - and if we may Expect ere long to greet you as his bride?

QUEEN. True - thank you, duchess, for reminding me!
[Addressing the PRINCESS. I have been asked to urge his suit with you. But can I do it? The man whom I reward With my sweet Eboli must be a man Of noble stamp indeed.

OLIVAREZ.
And such he is, A man of mark and fairest fame, - a man Whom our dear monarch signally has graced With his most royal favor.

QUEEN.
He's happy in Such high good fortune; but we fain would know, If he can love, and win return of love. This Eboli must answer.

EBOLI (stands speechless and confused, her eyes bent on the ground;
at last she falls at the QUEEN's feet).
Gracious queen! Have pity on me! Let me - let me not, - For heaven's sake, let me not be sacrificed.

QUEEN. Be sacrificed! I need no more. Arise! 'Tis a hard fortune to be sacrificed. I do believe you. Rise. And is it long Since you rejected Gomez' suit?

EBOLI.
Some months - Before Prince Carlos came from Alcala.

QUEEN (starts and looks at her with an inquisitive glance). Have you tried well the grounds of your refusal?

EBOLI (with energy). It cannot be, my queen, no, never, never, - For a thousand reasons, never!

QUEEN.
One's enough, You do not love him. That suffices me. Now let it pass.
[To her other ladies.
I have not seen the Infanta Yet this morning. Pray bring her, marchioness.

OLIVAREZ (looking at the clock). It is not yet the hour, your majesty.

QUEEN. Not yet the hour for me to be a mother! That's somewhat hard. Forget not, then, to tell me When the right hour does come.

[A page enters and whispers to the first lady, who
thereupon turns to the QUEEN.

OLIVAREZ.
The Marquis Posa! May it please your majesty.

QUEEN.
The Marquis Posa!

OLIVAREZ. He comes from France, and from the Netherlands, And craves the honor to present some letters Intrusted to him by your royal mother.

QUEEN. Is this allowed?

OLIVAREZ (hesitating).
A case so unforeseen Is not provided for in my instructions. When a Castilian grandee, with despatches From foreign courts, shall in her garden find The Queen of Spain, and tender them - -

QUEEN. Enough! I'll venture, then, on mine own proper peril.

OLIVAREZ. May I, your majesty, withdraw the while?

QUEEN. E'en as you please, good duchess!

[Exit the DUCHESS, the QUEEN gives the PAGE a sign, who
thereupon retires.


SCENE IV.

The QUEEN, PRINCESS EBOLI, MARCHIONESS OF MONDECAR, and
MARQUIS OF POSA.

QUEEN. I bid you welcome, sir, to Spanish ground!

MARQUIS. Ground which I never with so just a pride Hailed for the country of my sires as now.

QUEEN (to the two ladies). The Marquis Posa, ladies, who at Rheims Coped with my father in the lists, and made My colors thrice victorious; the first That made me feel how proud a thing it was To be the Queen of Spain and Spanish men.
[Turning to the MARQUIS. When we last parted in the Louvre, Sir, You scarcely dreamed that I should ever be Your hostess in Castile.

MARQUIS.
Most true, my liege! For at that time I never could have dreamed That France should lose to us the only thing We envied her possessing.

QUEEN.
How, proud Spaniard! The only thing! And you can venture this - This to a daughter of the house of Valois!

MARQUIS. I venture now to say it, gracious queen, Since now you are our own.

QUEEN.
Your journey hither Has led you, as I hear, through France. What news Have you brought with you from my honored mother And from my dearest brothers?

MARQUIS (handing letters). 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. We are so - So quiet in Madrid.

MARQUIS.
And that is more Than all the rest of Europe has to boast.

QUEEN. I've heard as much. But all this world's concerns Are well-nigh blotted from my memory.
[To PRINCESS EBOLI. Princess, methinks I see a hyacinth Yonder in bloom. Wilt bring it to me, sweet?

[The PRINCESS goes towards the palace, the QUEEN
softly to the MARQUIS.

I'm much mistaken, sir, or your arrival Has made one heart more happy here at court.

MARQUIS. I have found a sad one - one that in this world A ray of sunshine - -

EBOLI.
As this gentleman Has seen so many countries, he, no doubt, Has much of note to tell us.

MARQUIS.
Doubtless, and To seek adventures is a knight's first duty - But his most sacred is to shield the fair.

MONDECAR. From giants! But there are no giants now!

MARQUIS. Power is a giant ever to the weak.

QUEEN. The chevalier says well. There still are giants; But there are knights no more.

MARQUIS.
Not long ago, On my return from Naples, I became The witness of a very touching story, Which ties of friendship almost make my own Were I not fearful its recital might Fatigue your majesty - -

QUEEN.
Have I a choice? The princess is not to be lightly balked. Proceed. I too, sir, love a story dearly.

MARQUIS. Two noble houses in Mirandola, Weary of jealousies and deadly feuds, Transmitted down from Guelphs and Ghibellines, Through centuries of hate, from sire to son, Resolved to ratify a lasting peace By the sweet ministry of nuptial ties. Fernando, nephew of the great Pietro, And fair Matilda, old Colonna's child, Were chosen to cement this holy bond. Nature had never for each other formed Two fairer hearts. And never had the world Approved a wiser or a happier choice. Still had the youth adored his lovely bride In the dull limner's portraiture alone. How thrilled his heart, then, in the hope to find The truth of all that e'en his fondest dreams Had scarcely dared to credit in her picture! In Padua, where his studies held him bound; Fernando panted for the joyful hour, When he might murmur at Matilda's feet The first pure homage of his fervent love.

[The QUEEN grows more attentive; the MARQUIS continues, after
a short pause, addressing himself chiefly to PRINCESS EBOLI.

Meanwhile the sudden death of Pietro's wife Had left him free to wed. With the hot glow Of youthful blood the hoary lover drinks The fame that reached him of Matilda's charms. He comes - he sees - he loves! The new desire Stifles the voice of nature in his heart. The uncle woos his nephew's destined bride, And at the altar consecrates his theft.

QUEEN. And what did then Fernando?

MARQUIS.
On the wings Of Jove, unconscious of the fearful change, Delirious with the promised joy, he speeds Back to Mirandola. His flying steed By starlight gains the gate. Tumultuous sounds Of music, dance, and jocund revelry Ring from the walls of the illumined palace. With faltering steps he mounts the stair; and now Behold him in the crowded nuptial hall, Unrecognized! 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