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

is it, hand in hand, With a dear child, in inmost soul beloved, To tread once more the rosy paths of youth, And dream life's fond illusions o'er again! How proud to live through endless centuries Immortal in the virtues of a son; How sweet to plant what his dear hand shall reap; To gather what will yield him rich return, And guess how high his thanks will one day rise! My father of this early paradise Your monks most wisely speak not.

KING (not without emotion).
Oh, my son, Thou hast condemned thyself in painting thus A bliss this heart hath ne'er enjoyed from thee.

CARLOS. The Omniscient be my judge! You till this hour Have still debarred me from your heart, and all Participation in your royal cares. The heir of Spain has been a very stranger In Spanish land - a prisoner in the realm Where he must one day rule. Say, was this just, Or kind? And often have I blushed for shame, And stood with eyes abashed, to learn perchance From foreign envoys, or the general rumor, Thy courtly doings at Aranjuez.

KING. Thy blood flows far too hotly in thy veins. Thou would'st but ruin all.

CARLOS.
But try me, father. 'Tis true my blood flows hotly in my veins. Full three-and-twenty years I now have lived, And naught achieved for immortality. I am aroused - I feel my inward powers - My title to the throne arouses me From slumber, like an angry creditor; And all the misspent hours of early youth, Like debts of honor, clamor in mine ears. It comes at length, the glorious moment comes That claims full interest on the intrusted talent. The annals of the world, ancestral fame, And glory's echoing trumpet urge me on. Now is the blessed hour at length arrived That opens wide to me the list of honor. My king, my father! dare I utter now The suit which led me hither?

KING.
Still a suit? Unfold it.

CARLOS.
The rebellion in Brabant Increases to a height - the traitor's madness By stern, but prudent, vigor must be met. The duke, to quell the wild enthusiasm, Invested with the sovereign's power, will lead An army into Flanders. Oh, how full Of glory is such office! and how suited To open wide the temple of renown To me, your son! To my hand, then, O king, Intrust the army; in thy Flemish lands I am well loved, and I will freely gage My life for their fidelity and truth.

KING. Thou speakest like a dreamer. This high office Demands a man - and not a stripling's arm.

CARLOS. It but demands a human being, father: And that is what Duke Alva ne'er hath been.

KING. Terror alone can tie rebellion's hands: Humanity were madness. Thy soft soul Is tender, son: they'll tremble at the duke. Desist from thy request.

CARLOS.
Despatch me, sire, To Flanders with the army - dare rely E'en on my tender soul. The name of prince, The royal name emblazoned on my standard, Conquers where Alva's butchers but dismay. Here on my knees I crave it - this the first Petition of my life. Trust Flanders to me.

KING (contemplating CARLOS with a piercing look). Trust my best army to thy thirst for rule, And put a dagger in my murderer's hand!

CARLOS. Great God! and is this all - is this the fruit Of a momentous hour so long desired!
[After some thought, in a milder tone. Oh, speak to me more kindly - send me not Thus comfortless away - dismiss me not With this afflicting answer, oh, my father! Use me more tenderly, indeed, I need it. This is the last resource of wild despair - It conquers every power of firm resolve To beat it as a man - this deep contempt - My every suit denied: Let me away - Unheard and foiled in all my fondest hopes, I take my leave. Now Alva and Domingo May proudly sit in triumph where your son Lies weeping in the dust. Your crowd of courtiers, And your long train of cringing, trembling nobles, Your tribe of sallow monks, so deadly pale, All witnessed how you granted me this audience. Let me not be disgraced. Oh, strike me not With this most deadly wound - nor lay me bare To sneering insolence of menial taunts! "That strangers riot on your bounty, whilst Carlos, your son, may supplicate in vain." And as a pledge that you would have me honored, Despatch me straight to Flanders with the army.

KING. Urge thy request no farther - as thou wouldst Avoid the king's displeasure.

CARLOS.
I must brave My king's displeasure, and prefer my suit Once more, it is the last. Trust Flanders to me! I must away from Spain. To linger here Is to draw breath beneath the headsman's axe: The air lies heavy on me in Madrid Like murder on a guilty soul - a change, An instant change of clime alone can cure me. If you would save my life, despatch me straight Without delay to Flanders.

KING (with affected coldness).
Invalids, Like thee, my son - need not be tended close, And ever watched by the physician's eye - Thou stayest in Spain - the duke will go to Flanders.

CARLOS (wildly). Assist me, ye good angels!

KING (starting).
Hold, what mean Those looks so wild?

CARLOS.
Father, do you abide Immovably by this determination?

KING. It was the king's.

CARLOS.
Then my commission's done.

[Exit in violent emotion.


SCENE III.

King, sunk in gloomy contemplation, walks a few steps
up and down; Alva approaches with embarrassment.

KING. Hold yourself ready to depart for Brussels Upon a moment's notice.

ALVA. All is prepared, my liege.

KING.
And your credentials Lie ready sealed within my cabinet, - Meanwhile obtain an audience of the queen, And bid the prince farewell.

ALVA.
As I came in I met him with a look of frenzy wild Quitting the chamber; and your majesty Is strangely moved, methinks, and bears the marks Of deep excitement - can it be the theme Of your discourse - -

KING.
Concerned the Duke of Alva.
[The KING keeps his eye steadfastly fixed on him. I'm pleased that Carlos hates my councillors, But I'm disturbed that he despises them.
[ALVA, coloring deeply, is about to speak. No answer now: propitiate the prince.

ALVA. Sire!

KING.
Tell me who it was that warned me first Of my son's dark designs? I listened then To you, and not to him. I will have proof. And for the future, mark me, Carlos stands Nearer the throne - now duke - you may retire.

[The KING retires into his cabinet. Exit DUKE by another door.


SCENE IV.

The antechamber to the QUEEN'S apartments. DON CARLOS enters in
conversation with a PAGE. The attendants retire at his approach.

CARLOS. For me this letter? And a key! How's this? And both delivered with such mystery! Come nearer, boy: - from whom didst thou receive them?

PAGE (mysteriously). It seemed to me the lady would be guessed Rather than be described.

CARLOS (starting).
The lady, what! Who art thou, boy?

[Looking earnestly at the PAGE.

PAGE. A page that serves the queen.

CARLOS (affrighted, putting his hand to the PAGE's mouth). Hold, on your life! I know enough: no more.

[He tears open the letter hastily, and retires to read it; meanwhile
DUKE ALVA comes, and passing the Prince, goes unperceived by him
into the QUEEN'S apartment, CARLOS trembles violently and changes
color; when he has read the letter he remains a long time
speechless, his eyes steadfastly fixed on it; at last he turns to
the PAGE.

She gave you this herself?

PAGE.
With her own hands.

CARLOS. She gave this letter to you then herself? Deceive me not: I ne'er have seen her writing, And I must credit thee, if thou canst swear it; But if thy tale be false, confess it straight, Nor put this fraud on me.

PAGE.
This fraud, on whom?

CARLOS (looking once more at the letter, then at the PAGE with doubt
and earnestness). Your parents - are they living? and your father - Serves he the king? Is he a Spaniard born?

PAGE. He fell a colonel on St. Quentin's field, Served in the cavalry of Savoy's duke - His name Alonzo, Count of Henarez.

CARLOS (taking his hand, and looking fixedly in his eyes). The king gave you this letter?

PAGE (with emotion).
Gracious prince, Have I deserved these doubts?

CARLOS (reading the letter).
"This key unlocks The back apartments in the queen's pavilion, The furthest room lies next a cabinet Wherein no listener's foot dare penetrate; Here may the voice of love without restraint Confess those tender feelings, which till now The heart with silent looks alone hath spoken. The timid lover gains an audience here, And sweet reward repays his secret sorrow."

[As if awakening from a reverie.

I am not in a dream, do not rave, This is my right hand, this my sword - and these Are written words. 'Tis true - it is no dream. I am beloved, I feel I am beloved.

[Unable to contain himself, he rushes hastily through the room,
and raises his arms to heaven.

PAGE. Follow me, prince, and I will lead the way.

CARLOS. Then let me first collect my scattered thoughts. The alarm of joy still trembles in my bosom. Did I e'er lift my fondest hopes so high, Or trust my fancy to so bold a flight? Show me the man can learn thus