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King and Queen, Don Carlos, the Marquis of Posa, Ruy-Gomez, the Duchess of Eboli, Henrietta, Garcia, Attendants, and Guards discovered.

King. Happy the monarch, on whose brow no cares

Add weight to the bright diadem he wears;

Like me, in all that he can wish for, blest.

Renown and love, the gentlest calms of rest,

And peace, adorn my brow, enrich my breast.

To me great nations tributary are;

Though, whilst my vast dominions spread so far,

Where most I reign, I must pay homage, here. [To the Queen. Approach, bright mistress of my purest vows: Now show me him that more religion owes To Heaven, or to its altars more devoutly bows.

Don Car. So merchants, cast upon some savage coast, Are forced to see their dearest treasures lost. Curse! what's obedience? a false notion made By priests, who when they found old cheats decayed, By such new arts kept up declining trade. [Aside. A father! Oh!

King. Why does my Carlos shroud His joy, and when all's sunshine wear a cloud? My son, thus for thy glory I provide; From this fair charmer, and our royal bride, Shall such a noble race of heroes spring, As may adorn the court when thou art king.

Don Car. A greater glory I can never know Than what already I enjoy in you. The brightest ornaments of crowns and powers I only can admire, as they are yours.

King. Heaven! how he stands unmoved! not the least show Of transport.

Don Car. Not admire your happiness? I do As much admire it as I reverence you. Let me express the mighty joy I feel: Thus, sir, I pay my duty when I kneel. [Kneels to the Queen.

Queen. How hard it is his passion to confine! I'm sure 'tis so, if I may judge by mine. [Aside. Alas! my lord, you're too obsequious now. [To Don Carlos.

Don Car. Oh! might I but enjoy this pleasure still, Here would I worship, and for ever kneel.

Queen. 'Fore Heaven, my lord! you know not what you do.

King. Still there appears disturbance on his brow; And in his looks an earnestness I read, Which from no common causes can proceed. [Aside. I'll probe him deep. When, when, my dearest joy,

[To the Queen.

Shall I the mighty debt of love defray?

Hence to love's secret temple let's retire,

There on his altars kindle the amorous fire,

Then, phœnix-like, each in the flame expire.—

Still he is fixed. [Looking on Don Carlos.] Gomez, observe the prince.— Yet smile on me, my charming excellence.

[To the Queen.

Virgins should only fears and blushes show;

But you must lay aside that title now.

The doctrine which I preach, by Heaven, is good:—

Oh, the impetuous sallies of my blood!

Queen. To what unwelcome joys I'm forced to yield? Now fate her utmost malice has fulfilled. Carlos, farewell; for since I must submit—

King. Now, winged with rapture, let us fly, my sweet. My son, all troubles from thy breast resign, And let thy father's happiness be thine.

[Exeunt King and Queen, Ruy-Gomez, Duchess of Eboli, Henrietta, Garcia, and Attendants.

Don Car. What king, what god would not his power forego, To enjoy so much divinity below! Didst thou behold her, Posa?

M. of Posa. Sir, I did.

Don Car. And is she not a sweet one? Such a bride! O Posa, once she was decreed for mine: Once I had hopes of bliss. Hadst thou but seen How blest, how proud I was if I could get But leave to lie a prostrate at her feet! Even with a look I could my pains beguile; Nay, she in pity too would sometimes smile; Till at the last my vows successful proved, And one day, sighing, she confessed she loved. Oh! then I found no limits to our joy, With eyes thus languishing we looked all day; So vigorous and strong we darted beams, Our meeting glances kindled into flames; Nothing we found that promised not delight: For when rude shades deprived us of the light, As we had gazed all day, we dreamt all night. But, after all these labours undergone, A cruel father thus destroys his son; In their full height my choicest hopes beguiles, And robs me of the fruit of all my toils. My dearest Posa, thou wert ever kind; Bring thy best counsel, and direct my mind.

Re-enter Ruy-Gomez.

Ruy-Gom. Still he is here. My lord!

Don Car. Your business now?

Ruy-Gom. I've with concern beheld your clouded brow. Ah! though you've lost a beauty well might make Your strictest honour and your duty shake, Let not a father's ills[11] misguide your mind, But be obedient, though he has proved unkind.

Don Car. Hence, cynic, to dull slaves thy morals teach; I have no leisure now to hear thee preach: Still you'll usurp a power o'er my will.

Ruy-Gom. Sir, you my services interpret ill: Nor need it be so soon forgot that I Have been your guardian from your infancy. When to my charge committed, I alone Instructed you how to expect a crown; Taught you ambition, and war's noblest arts, How to lead armies, and to conquer hearts; Whilst, though but young, You would with pleasure read of sieges got, And smile to hear of bloody battles fought: And, still, though not control, I may advise,

Don Car. Alas! thy pride wears a too thin disguise: Too well I know the falsehood of thy soul, Which to my father rendered me so foul That hardly as his son a smile I've known, But always as a traitor met his frown. My forward honour was ambition called; Or, if my friends my early fame extolled, You damped my father's smiles still as they sprung, Persuading I repined he lived too long. So all my hopes by you were frustrate made, And, robbed of sunshine, withered in the shade. Whilst, my good patriot! you disposed the crown Out of my reach, to have it in your own. But I'll prevent your policy—

Ruy-Gom. My lord, This accusation is unjust and hard. The king, your father, would not so upbraid My age: is all my service thus repaid? But I will hence, and let my master hear How generously you reward my care; Who, on my just complaint, I doubt not, will At least redress the injuries I feel. [Exit.

M. of Posa. Alas! my lord, you too severely urge Your fate; his interest with the king is large. Besides, you know he has already seen The transports of your passion for the queen. The use he may of that advantage make You ought at least to avoid, but for her sake.

Don. Car. Ah! my dear friend, thou'st touched my tenderest part; I never yet learned the dissembling art. Go, call him back; tell him that I implore His pardon, and will ne'er offend him more. The queen! kind Heaven, make her thy nearest care! Oh! fly, o'ertake him ere he goes too far. [Exit Marquis of Posa. How are we bandied up and down by fate! By so much more unhappy as we're great. A prince, and heir to Spain's great monarch born, I'm forced to court a slave whom most I scorn; Who like a bramble 'mongst a cedar's boughs, Vexes his peace under whose shades he grows. Now he returns: assist me falsehood—down, Thou rebel passion—

Re-enter Ruy-Gomez and the Marquis of Posa.

Sir, I fear I've done

[To Ruy-Gomez.

You wrong; but, if I have, you can forgive.

Heaven! can I do this abject thing, and live? [Aside.

Ruy-Gom. Ah, my good lord, it makes too large amends, When to his vassal thus a prince descends; Though it was something rigid and unkind, To upbraid your faithful servant and your friend.

Don Car. Alas! no more; all jealousies shall cease; Between us two let there be henceforth peace. So may just Heaven assist me when I sue, As I to Gomez always will be true.

Ruy-Gom. Stay, sir, and for this mighty favour take All the return sincerity can make. Blest in your father's love, as I'm in yours, May not one fear disturb your happy hours! Crowned with success may all your wishes be, And you ne'er find worse enemies than me!

[Exeunt Don Carlos and Marquis of Posa.

Nor, spite of all his greatness, shall he need:

Of too long date his ruin is decreed.

Spain's early hopes of him have been my fears;

'Twas I the charge had of his tender years,

And read in all the progress of his growth,

An untamed, haughty, hot, and furious youth;

A will unruly, and a spirit wild;

At all my precepts still with scorn he smiled.

Or when, by the power I from his father had,

Any restraint was on his pleasures laid,

Ushered with frowns on me his soul would rise,

And threaten future vengeance from his eyes.

But now to all my fears I bid adieu;

For, prince, I'll humble both your fate and you.

Here comes the star by whom my course I steer.

Re-enter Duchess of Eboli.

Welcome, my love!

D. of Eboli. My lord, why stay you here, Losing the pleasures of this happy night? When all the court are melting in delight, You toil with the dull business of the state.

Ruy-Gom. Only, my fair one, how to make thee great. Thou takest up all the business of my heart, And only to it pleasure canst impart. Say, say, my goddess, when shall I be blest? It is an age since I was happy last.

D. of Eboli. My lord, I come not hither now to hear Your love, but offer something to your ear. If you have well observed, you must have seen, To-day, some strange disorders in the queen.

Ruy-Gom. Yes, such as youthful brides do still express, Impatient longings for the happiness. Approaching joys will so disturb the soul, As needles always tremble near the pole.

D. of Eboli. Come, come, my lord, seem not so blind; too well I've seen the wrongs which you from Carlos feel; And know your judgment is too good to lose Advantage, where you may so safely choose. Say now, if I inform you how you may With full revenge all your past wrongs repay—

Ruy-Gom. Blest oracle! speak how it may be done: My will, my life, my hopes, are all thy own.

D. of Eboli. Hence then, and with your strictest cunning try What of the queen and prince you can descry; Watch every look, each quick and subtle glance; Then we'll from all produce such circumstance As shall the king's new jealousy advance. Nay, sir, I'll try what mighty love you show: If you will make me great, begin it now. How, sir, d'ye stand considering what to do?

Ruy-Gom. No, but methinks I view from hence a king, A queen, and prince, three goodly flowers spring: Whilst on them like a subtle bee I'll prey, Till, so their strength and virtue drawn away, Unable to recover, each shall droop, Grow pale, and fading hang his withered top: Then, fraught with thyme, triumphant back I'll come, And unlade all the precious sweets at home. [Exit.

D. of Eboli. In thy fond policy, blind fool, go on, And make what haste thou canst to be undone, Whilst I have nobler business of my own. Was I bred up in greatness; have I been Nurtured with glorious hopes to be a queen; Made love my study, and with practised charms Prepared myself to meet a monarch's arms; At last to be condemned to the embrace Of one whom nature made to her disgrace, An old, imperfect, feeble dotard, who Can only tell (alas!) what he would do? On him to throw away my youth and bloom, As jewels that are lost to enrich a tomb? No, though all hopes are in a husband dead, Another path to happiness I'll tread; Elsewhere find joys which I'm in him denied: Yet, while he can, let the slave serve my pride. Still I'll in pleasure live, in glory shine; The gallant, youthful Austria shall be mine: To him with all my force of charms I'll move: Let others toil for greatness, whilst I love. [Exit.