Читать книгу Don Carlos - Фридрих Шиллер, Friedrich von Schiller - Страница 4

   I will have you beside me, Mondecar.

   The princess, with these merry eyes of hers,

   Has plagued me all the morning. See, she scarce

   Can hide the joy she feels to leave the country.

   'Twere idle to conceal, my queen, that I

   Shall be most glad to see Madrid once more.

   And will your majesty not be so, too?

   Are you so grieved to quit Aranjuez?

   To quit – this lovely spot at least I am.

   This is my world. Its sweetness oft and oft

   Has twined itself around my inmost heart.

   Here, nature, simple, rustic nature greets me,

   The sweet companion of my early years —

   Here I indulge once more my childhood's sports,

   And my dear France's gales come blowing here.

   Blame not this partial fondness – all hearts yearn

   For their own native land.

                 But then how lone,

   How dull and lifeless it is here! We might

   As well be in La Trappe.

                I cannot see it.

   To me Madrid alone is lifeless. But

   What saith our duchess to it?

                   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.

   Well, I suppose it has! Duchess, you know

   I've long resigned all argument with you.

   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.

   Promised? This from my gentle Mondecar!

   Why not? 'Tis only heretics they burn!

   I hope my Eboli thinks otherwise!

   What, I? I beg your majesty may think me

   As good a Christian as the marchioness.

   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.

   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?

   True – thank you, duchess, for reminding me!

   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.

               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.

                 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.

               Gracious queen!

   Have pity on me! Let me – let me not, —

   For heaven's sake, let me not be sacrificed.

   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?

                    Some months —

   Before Prince Carlos came from Alcala.

   Have you tried well the grounds of your refusal?

   It cannot be, my queen, no, never, never, —

   For a thousand reasons, never!

                   One's enough,

   You do not love him. That suffices me.

   Now let it pass.

            I have not seen the Infanta

   Yet this morning. Pray bring her, marchioness.

   It is not yet the hour, your majesty.

   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.

      thereupon turns to the QUEEN.

                   The Marquis Posa!

   May it please your majesty.

                  The Marquis Posa!

   He comes from France, and from the Netherlands,

   And craves the honor to present some letters

   Intrusted to him by your royal mother.

   Is this allowed?

            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 —

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

   May I, your majesty, withdraw the while?

   E'en as you please, good duchess!