Don Carlos by Friedrich Schiller (sight word readers .txt) 📖

I know This Marquis Posa served me with distinction. Does he still live? Why is he not among you?

LERMA. The chevalier is just returned from travel, Completed through all Europe. He is now Here in Madrid, and waits a public day To cast himself before his sovereign's feet.

ALVA. The Marquis Posa? Right, he is the same Bold Knight of Malta, sire, of whom renown Proclaims this gallant deed. Upon a summons Of the Grand Master, all the valiant knights Assembled in their island, at that time Besieged by Soliman. This noble youth, Scarce numbering eighteen summers, straightway fled From Alcala, where he pursued his studies, And suddenly arrived at La Valette. "This Cross," he said, "was bought for me; and now To prove I'm worthy of it." He was one Of forty knights who held St. Elmo's Castle, At midday, 'gainst Piali, Ulucciali, And Mustapha, and Hassem; the assault Being thrice repeated. When the castle fell, And all the valiant knights were killed around him, He plunged into the ocean, and alone Reached La Valette in safety. Two months after The foe deserts the island, and the knight Returned to end his interrupted studies.

FERIA. It was the Marquis Posa, too, who crushed The dread conspiracy in Catalonia; And by his marked activity preserved That powerful province to the Spanish crown.

KING. I am amazed! What sort of man is this Who can deserve so highly, yet awake No pang of envy in the breasts of three Who speak his praise? The character he owns Must be of noble stamp indeed, or else A very blank. I'm curious to behold This wondrous man.
[To DUKE ALVA.
Conduct him to the council When mass is over.
[Exit DUKE. The KING calls FERIA.
And do you preside Here in my place.
[Exit.

FERIA.
The king is kind to-day.

MEDIA SIDONIA. Call him a god! So he has proved to me!

FERIA. You well deserve your fortune, admiral! You have my warmest wishes.

ONE OF THE GRANDEES.
Sir, and mine.

A SECOND. And also mine.

A THIRD.
My heart exults with joy - So excellent a general!

THE FIRST.
The king Showed you no kindness, 'twas your strict desert.

LERMA (to MEDINA SIDONIA, taking leave). Oh, how two little words have made your fortune!

[Exeunt all.


SCENE VIII.

The KING's Cabinet.
MARQUIS POSA and DUKE ALVA.

MARQUIS (as he enters). Does he want me? What me? Impossible! You must mistake the name. What can he want With me?

ALVA.
To know you.

MARQUIS.
Curiosity! No more; I regret the precious minutes That I must lose: time passes swiftly by.

ALVA. I now commend you to your lucky stars. The king is in your hands. Employ this moment To your own best advantage; for, remember, If it is lost, you are alone to blame.


SCENE IX.

The MARQUIS alone.

MARQUIS. Duke, 'tis well spoken! Turn to good account The moment which presents itself but once! Truly this courtier reads a useful lesson If not in his sense good, at least in mine.

[Walks a few steps backwards and forwards.

How came I here? Is it caprice or chance That shows me now my image in this mirror? Why, out of millions, should it picture me - The most unlikely - and present my form To the king's memory? Was this but chance? Perhaps 'twas something more! - what else is chance But the rude stone which from the sculptor's hand Receives its life? Chance comes from Providence, And man must mould it to his own designs. What the king wants with me but little matters; I know the business I shall have with him. Were but one spark of truth with boldness flung Into the despot's soul, how fruitful 'twere In the kind hand of Providence; and so What first appeared capricious act of chalice, May be designed for some momentous end. Whate'er it be, I'll act on this belief.

[He takes a few turns in the room, and stands at last
in tranquil contemplation before a painting. The KING
appears in the neighboring room, where he gives some
orders. He then enters and stands motionless at the door,
and contemplates the MARQUIS for some time without being
observed.


SCENE X.

The KING, and MARQUIS POSA.

The MARQUIS, as soon as he observes the KING, comes forward
and sinks on one knee; then rises and remains standing before
him without any sign of confusion.

KING (looks at him with surprise). We've met before then?

MARQUIS.
No.

KING.
You did my crown Some service? Why then do you shun my thanks? My memory is thronged with suitor's claims. One only is omniscient. 'Twas your duty To seek your monarch's eye! Why did you not?

MARQUIS. Two days have scarce elapsed since my return From foreign travel, sire.

KING.
I would not stand Indebted to a subject; ask some favor - -

MARQUIS. I enjoy the laws.

KING.
So does the murderer!

MARQUIS. Then how much more the honest citizen! My lot contents me, sire.

KING (aside).
By heavens! a proud And dauntless mind! That was to be expected. Proud I would have my Spaniards. Better far The cup should overflow than not be full. They say you've left my service?

MARQUIS.
To make way For some one worthier, I withdrew.

KING. 'Tis pity. When spirits such as yours make holiday, The state must suffer. But perchance you feared To miss the post best suited to your merits.

MARQUIS. Oh, no! I doubt not the experienced judge, In human nature skilled - his proper study, - Will have discovered at a glance wherein I may be useful to him, wherein not. With deepest gratitude, I feel the favor Wherewith, by so exalted an opinion, Your majesty is loading me; and yet - -

[He pauses.

KING. You hesitate?

MARQUIS.
I am, I must confess, Sire, at this moment, unprepared to clothe My thoughts, as the world's citizen, in phrase Beseeming to your subject. When I left The court forever, sire, I deemed myself Released from the necessity to give My reasons for this step.

KING.
Are they so weak? What do you fear to risk by their disclosure?

MARQUIS. My life at farthest, sire, - were time allowed For me to weary you - but this denied -

Then truth itself must suffer. I must choose 'Twixt your displeasure and contempt. And if I must decide, I rather would appear Worthy of punishment than pity.

KING (with a look of expectation).
Well?

MARQUIS. I cannot be the servant of a prince.
[The KING looks at him with astonishment. I will not cheat the buyer. Should you deem Me worthy of your service, you prescribe A course of duty for me; you command My arm in battle and my head in council. Then, not my actions, but the applause they meet At court becomes their object. But for me Virtue possesses an intrinsic worth. I would, myself, create that happiness A monarch, with my hand, would seek to plant, And duty's task would prove an inward joy, And be my willing choice. Say, like you this? And in your own creation could you hear A new creator? For I ne'er could stoop To be the chisel where I fain would be - The sculptor's self. I dearly love mankind, My gracious liege, but in a monarchy I dare not love another than myself.

KING. This ardor is most laudable. You wish To do good deeds to others; how you do them Is but of small account to patriots, Or to the wise. Choose then within these realms The office where you best may satisfy This noble impulse.

MARQUIS.
'Tis not to be found.

KING. How!

MARQUIS.
What your majesty would spread abroad, Through these my hands - is it the good of men? Is it the happiness that my pure love Would to mankind impart? Before such bliss Monarchs would tremble. No! Court policy Has raised up new enjoyments for mankind. Which she is always rich enough to grant; And wakened, in the hearts of men, new wishes Which such enjoyments only can content. In her own mint she coins the truth - such truth! As she herself can tolerate: all forms Unlike her own are broken. But is that Which can content the court enough for me? Must my affection for my brother pledge Itself to work my brother injury? To call him happy when he dare not think? Sire, choose not me to spread the happiness Which you have stamped for us. I must decline To circulate such coin. I cannot be The servant of a prince.

KING (suddenly).
You are, perhaps, A Protestant?

MARQUIS (after some reflection).
Our creeds, my liege, are one.
[A pause. I am misunderstood. I feared as much. You see the veil torn by my hand aside From all the mysteries of majesty. Who can assure you I shall still regard As sacred that which ceases to alarm me? I may seem dangerous, because I think Above myself. I am not so, my liege; My wishes lie corroding here. The rage
[Laying his hand on his breast. For innovation, which but serves to increase The heavy weight of chains it cannot break, Shall never fire my blood! The world is yet Unripe for my ideal; and I live A citizen of ages yet to come. But does a fancied picture break your rest? A breach of