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       Forth to the winds his desecrated dust.

       And then, at last, to fill the measure up——

       CARLOS.

       Merciful heavens, finish not the picture!

       QUEEN.

       End all by wedding with his mother.

       CARLOS.

       Oh!

       Accursed son!

       [He remains for some time paralyzed and speechless.

       Yes, now 'tis out, 'tis out!

       I see it clear as day. Oh, would it had

       Been veiled from me in everlasting darkness!

       Yes, thou art gone from me—gone—gone forever.

       The die is cast; and thou art lost to me.

       Oh, in that thought lies hell; and a hell, too,

       Lies in the other thought, to call thee mine.

       Oh, misery! I can bear my fate no longer,

       My very heart-strings strain as they would burst.

       QUEEN.

       Alas, alas! dear Charles, I feel it all,

       The nameless pang that rages in your breast;

       Your pangs are infinite, as is your love,

       And infinite as both will be the glory

       Of overmastering both. Up, be a man,

       Wrestle with them boldly. The prize is worthy

       Of a young warrior's high, heroic heart;

       Worthy of him in whom the virtues flow

       Of a long ancestry of mighty kings.

       Courage! my noble prince! Great Charles's grandson

       Begins the contest with undaunted heart,

       Where sons of meaner men would yield at once.

       CARLOS.

       Too late, too late! O God, it is too late!

       QUEEN.

       Too late to be a man! O Carlos, Carlos!

       How nobly shows our virtue when the heart

       Breaks in its exercise! The hand of Heaven

       Has set you up on high—far higher, prince,

       Than millions of your brethren. All she took

       From others she bestowed with partial hand

       On thee, her favorite; and millions ask,

       What was your merit, thus before your birth

       To be endowed so far above mankind?

       Up, then, and justify the ways of Heaven;

       Deserve to take the lead of all the world,

       And make a sacrifice ne'er made before.

       CARLOS.

       I will, I will; I have a giant's strength

       To win your favor; but to lose you, none.

       QUEEN.

       Confess, my Carlos, I have harshly read thee;

       It is but spoken, and waywardness, and pride,

       Attract you thus so madly to your mother!

       The heart you lavish on myself belongs

       To the great empire you one day shall rule.

       Look that you sport not with your sacred trust!

       Love is your high vocation; until now

       It hath been wrongly bent upon your mother:

       Oh, lead it back upon your future realms,

       And so, instead of the fell stings of conscience,

       Enjoy the bliss of being more than man.

       Elizabeth has been your earliest love,

       Your second must be Spain. How gladly, Carlos,

       Will I give place to this more worthy choice!

       CARLOS (overpowered by emotion, throws himself at her feet).

       How great thou art, my angel! Yes, I'll do

       All, all thou canst desire. So let it be.

       [He rises.

       Here in the sight of heaven I stand and swear—

       I swear to thee, eternal—no, great Heaven!—

       Eternal silence only—not oblivion!

       QUEEN.

       How can I ask from you what I myself

       Am not disposed to grant?

       MARQUIS (hastening from the alley).

       The king!

       QUEEN.

       Oh God!

       MARQUIS.

       Away, away! fly from these precincts, prince!

       QUEEN.

       His jealousy is dreadful—should he see you——

       CARLOS.

       I'll stay.

       QUEEN.

       And who will be the victim then?

       CARLOS (seizing the MARQUIS by the arm).

       Away, away! Come, Roderigo, come!

       [Goes and returns.

       What may I hope to carry hence with me?

       QUEEN.

       Your mother's friendship.

       CARLOS.

       Friendship! Mother!

       QUEEN.

       And

       These tears with it—they're from the Netherlands.

       [She gives him some letters. Exit CARLOS with the MARQUIS.

       The QUEEN looks restlessly round in search of her ladies,

       who are nowhere to be seen. As she is about to retire up,

       the KING enters.