Part 294 (1/2)

SCENE VIII.

The PRINCESS, DON CARLOS.

The PRINCESS has thrown herself upon an ottoman, and plays.

CARLOS (rushes in; he recognizes the PRINCESS, and stands thunderstruck).

Gracious Heaven!

Where am I?

PRINCESS (lets her lute fall, and meeting him) What? Prince Carlos! yes, in truth.

CARLOS.

Where am I? Senseless error; I have missed The right apartment.

PRINCESS.

With what dexterous skill Carlos contrives to hit the very room Where ladies sit alone!

CARLOS.

Your pardon, princess!

I found--I found the antechamber open.

PRINCESS.

Can it be possible? I fastened it Myself; at least I thought so----

CARLOS.

Ay! you thought, You only thought so; rest a.s.sured you did not.

You meant to lock it, that I well believe: But most a.s.suredly it was not locked.

A lute's sweet sounds attracted me, some hand Touched it with skill; say, was it not a lute?

[Looking round inquiringly.

Yes, there it lies, and Heaven can bear me witness I love the lute to madness. I became All ear, forgot myself in the sweet strain, And rushed into the chamber to behold The lovely eyes of the divine musician Who charmed me with the magic of her tones.

PRINCESS.

Innocent curiosity, no doubt!

But it was soon appeased, as I can prove.

[After a short silence, significantly.

I must respect the modesty that has, To spare a woman's blushes, thus involved Itself in so much fiction.

CARLOS (with sincerity).

Nay, I feel I but augment my deep embarra.s.sment, In vain attempt to extricate myself.

Excuse me for a part I cannot play.

In this remote apartment, you perhaps Have sought a refuge from the world, to pour The inmost wishes of your secret heart Remote from man's distracting eye. By me, Unhappy that I am, your heavenly dreams Are all disturbed, and the atonement now Must be my speedy absence.

[Going.

PRINCESS (surprised and confused, but immediately recovering herself).

Oh! that step Were cruel, prince, indeed!

CARLOS.

Princess, I feel What such a look in such a place imports: This virtuous embarra.s.sment has claims To which my manhood never can be deaf.

Woe to the wretch whose boldness takes new fire From the pure blush of maiden modesty!