CARLOS.

Oft have I struggled with myself, and oft

At midnight, when my guards were sunk in sleep,

With floods of burning tears I've sunk before

The image of the ever-blessed Virgin,

And craved a filial heart, but all in vain.

I rose with prayer unheard. O Roderigo!

Unfold this wondrous mystery of heaven,

Why of a thousand fathers only this

Should fall to me-and why to him this son,

Of many thousand better? Nature could not

In her wide orb have found two opposites

More diverse in their elements. How could

She bind the two extremes of human kind-

Myself and him-in one so holy bond?

O dreadful fate! Why was it so decreed?

Why should two men, in all things else apart,

Concur so fearfully in one desire?

Roderigo, here thou seest two hostile stars,

That in the lapse of ages, only once,

As they sweep onwards in their orbed course,

Touch with a crash that shakes them to the centre,

Then rush apart forever and forever.

MARQUIS.

I feel a dire foreboding.

CARLOS.

So do I.

Like hell's grim furies, dreams of dreadful shape

Pursue me still. My better genius strives

With the fell projects of a dark despair.

My wildered subtle spirit crawls through maze

On maze of sophistries, until at length

It gains a yawning precipice's brink.

O Roderigo! should I e'er in him

Forget the father-ah! thy deathlike look

Tells me I'm understood-should I forget

The father-what were then the king to me?

MARQUIS (after a pause).

One thing, my Carlos, let me beg of you!

Whate'er may be your plans, do nothing,-nothing,-

Without your friend's advice. You promise this?

CARLOS.

All, all I promise that thy love can ask!

I throw myself entirely upon thee!

MARQUIS.

The king, I hear, is going to Madrid.

The time is short. If with the queen you would

Converse in private, it is only here,

Here in Aranjuez, it can be done.

The quiet of the place, the freer manners,

All favor you.

CARLOS.

And such, too, was my hope;

But it, alas! was vain.

MARQUIS.

Not wholly so.

I go to wait upon her. If she be

The same in Spain she was in Henry's court,

She will be frank at least. And if I can

Read any hope for Carlos in her looks-

Find her inclined to grant an interview-

Get her attendant ladies sent away--

CARLOS.

Most of them are my friends-especially

The Countess Mondecar, whom I have gained

By service to her son, my page.

MARQUIS.

'Tis well;

Be you at hand, and ready to appear,

Whene'er I give the signal, prince.

CARLOS.

I will,-

Be sure I will:-and all good speed attend thee!

MARQUIS.

I will not lose a moment; so, farewell.

[Exeunt severally.

SCENE III.

The Queen's Residence in Aranjuez. The Pleasure Grounds,

intersected by an avenue, terminated by the Queen's Palace.

The QUEEN, DUCHESS OF OLIVAREZ, PRINCESS OF EBOLI, and MARCHIONESS

OF MONDECAR, all advancing from the avenue.

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