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 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. Spare me the sequel.

[A general silence.

QUEEN (turning to the PRINCESS EBOLI).

Surely the time is come to see my daughter,

I prithee, princess, bring her to me now!

[The PRINCESS withdraws. The MARQUIS beckons a Page. The QUEEN

opens the letters, and appears surprised. The MARQUIS talks with

MARCHIONESS MONDECAR. The QUEEN having read the letters, turns to

the MARQUIS with a penetrating look.

QUEEN.

You have not spoken of Matilda! She

Haply was ignorant of Fernando's grief?

MARQUIS.

Matilda's heart has no one fathomed yet-

Great souls endure in silence.

QUEEN.

You look around you. Who is it you seek?

MARQUIS.

Вы читаете Don Carlos (play)
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