Part 277 (1/2)

The Royal Gardens in Aranjuez.

CARLOS and DOMINGO.

DOMINGO.

Our pleasant sojourn in Aranjuez Is over now, and yet your highness quits These joyous scenes no happier than before.

Our visit hath been fruitless. Oh, my prince, Break this mysterious and gloomy silence!

Open your heart to your own father's heart!

A monarch never can too dearly buy The peace of his own son--his only son.

[CARLOS looks on the ground in silence.

Is there one dearest wish that bounteous Heaven Hath e'er withheld from her most favored child?

I stood beside, when in Toledo's walls The lofty Charles received his va.s.sals' homage, When conquered princes thronged to kiss his hand, And there at once six mighty kingdoms fell In fealty at his feet: I stood and marked The young, proud blood mount to his glowing cheek, I saw his bosom swell with high resolves, His eye, all radiant with triumphant pride, Flash through the a.s.sembled throng; and that same eye Confessed, ”Now am I wholly satisfied!”

[CARLOS turns away.

This silent sorrow, which for eight long moons Hath hung its shadows, prince, upon your brow-- The mystery of the court, the nation's grief-- Hath cost your father many a sleepless night, And many a tear of anguish to your mother.

CARLOS (turning hastily round).

My mother! Grant, O heaven, I may forget How she became my mother!

DOMINGO.

Gracious prince!

CARLOS (pa.s.sing his hands thoughtfully over his brow).

Alas! alas! a fruitful source of woe Have mothers been to me. My youngest act, When first these eyes beheld the light of day, Destroyed a mother.

DOMINGO.

Is it possible That this reproach disturbs your conscience, prince?

CARLOS.

And my new mother! Hath she not already Cost me my father's heart? Scarce loved at best.

My claim to some small favor lay in this-- I was his only child! 'Tis over! She Hath blest him with a daughter--and who knows What slumbering ills the future hath in store?

DOMINGO.

You jest, my prince. All Spain adores its queen.

Shall it be thought that you, of all the world, Alone should view her with the eyes of hate-- Gaze on her charms, and yet be coldly wise?

How, prince? The loveliest lady of her time, A queen withal, and once your own betrothed?

No, no, impossible--it cannot be!

Where all men love, you surely cannot hate.

Carlos could never so belie himself.

I prithee, prince, take heed she do not learn That she hath lost her son's regard. The news Would pain her deeply.

CARLOS. Ay, sir! think you so?

DOMINGO.

Your highness doubtless will remember how, At the late tournament in Saragossa, A lance's splinter struck our gracious sire.

The queen, attended by her ladies, sat High in the centre gallery of the palace, And looked upon the fight. A cry arose, ”The king! he bleeds!” Soon through the general din, A rising murmur strikes upon her ear.

”The prince--the prince!” she cries, and forward rushed, As though to leap down from the balcony, When a voice answered, ”No, the king himself!”

”Then send for his physicians!” she replied, And straight regained her former self-composure.

[After a short pause.