This dark enigma now. He was my friend.
And would you know why he has perished thus?
He gave his life for me.
KING.
Ha? my suspicions!
CARLOS.
Pardon, thou bleeding corpse, that I profane
Thy virtue to such ears. But let him blush
With deep-felt shame, the crafty politician,
That his gray-headed wisdom was o'erreached,
E'en by the judgment of a youth. Yes, sire,
We two were brothers! Bound by nobler bands
Than nature ties. His whole life's bright career
Was love. His noble death was love for me.
E'en in the moment when his brief esteem
Exalted you, he was my own. And when
With fascinating tongue he sported with
Your haughty, giant mind, 'twas your conceit
To bridle him; but you became yourself
The pliant tool of his exalted plans.
That I became a prisoner, my arrest,
Was his deep friendship's meditated work.
That letter to Prince William was designed
To save my life. It was the first deceit
He ever practised. To insure my safety
He rushed on death himself, and nobly perished.
You lavished on him all your favor; yet
For me he died. Your heart, your confidence,
You forced upon him. As a toy he held
Your sceptre and your power; he cast them from him,
And gave his life for me.
[The KING stands motionless, with eyes fixed on the ground;
all the GRANDEES regard him with surprise and alarm.
How could it be
That you gave credit to this strange deceit?
Meanly indeed he valued you, to try
By such coarse artifice to win his ends.
You dared to court his friendship, but gave way
Before a test so simple. Oh, no! never
For souls like yours was such a being formed.
That well he knew himself, when he rejected
Your crowns, your gifts, your greatness, and yourself.
This fine-toned lyre broke in your iron hand,
And you could do no more than murder him.
ALVA (never having taken his eyes from the KING, and observing his
emotion with uneasiness, approaches him with apprehension).
Keep not this deathlike silence, sire. Look round,
And speak at least to us.
CARLOS.
Once you were not
Indifferent to him. And deeply once
You occupied his thoughts. It might have been
His lot to make you happy. His full heart
Might have enriched you; with its mere abundance
An atom of his soul had been enough
To make a god of you. You've robbed yourself-
Plundered yourself and me. What could you give,
To raise again a spirit like to this?
[Deep silence. Many of the GRANDEES turn away, or conceal
their faces in their mantles.
Oh, ye who stand around with terror dumb,
And mute surprise, do not condemn the youth
Who holds this language to the king, his father.
Look on this corpse. Behold! for me he died.
If ye have tears-if in your veins flow blood,
Not molten brass, look here, and blame me not.
[He turns to the KING with more self-possession and calmness.
Doubtless you wait the end of this rude scene?
Here is my sword, for you are still my king.
Think not I fear your vengeance. Murder me,
As you have murdered this most noble man.
My life is forfeit; that I know full well.
But what is life to me? I here renounce
All that this world can offer to my hopes.
Seek among strangers for a son. Here lies
My kingdom.
[He sinks down on the corpse, and takes no part in what follows.
A confused tumult and the noise of a crowd is heard in the distance.
All is deep silence round the KING. His eyes scan the circle over,
but no one returns his looks.
KING.
What! Will no one make reply?
Each eye upon the ground, each look abashed!
My sentence is pronounced. I read it here
Proclaimed in all this lifeless, mute demeanor.
My vassals have condemned me.
[Silence as before. The tumult grows louder. A murmur is heard
among the GRANDEES. They exchange embarrassed looks. COUNT LERMA
at length gently touches ALVA.
LERMA.
Here's rebellion!
