No More Learning

of Eboli. _ My lord, why stay you here,
Losing the pleasures of this happy night?
When all the court are melting in delight,
You toil with the dull business of the state.

_Ruy-Gom. _ Only, my fair one, how to make thee great.
Thou takest up all the business of my heart,
And only to it pleasure canst impart.
Say, say, my goddess, when shall I be blest?
It is an age since I was happy last.

_D. of Eboli. _ My lord, I come not hither now to hear
Your love, but offer something to your ear.
If you have well observed, you must have seen,
To-day, some strange disorders in the queen.

_Ruy-Gom. _ Yes, such as youthful brides do still express,
Impatient longings for the happiness.
Approaching joys will so disturb the soul,
As needles always tremble near the pole.

_D. of Eboli. _ Come, come, my lord, seem not so blind; too well
I've seen the wrongs which you from Carlos feel;
And know your judgment is too good to lose
Advantage, where you may so safely choose.
Say now, if I inform you how you may
With full revenge all your past wrongs repay--

_Ruy-Gom. _ Blest oracle! speak how it may be done:
My will, my life, my hopes, are all thy own.

_D. of Eboli. _ Hence then, and with your strictest cunning try
What of the queen and prince you can descry;
Watch every look, each quick and subtle glance;
Then we'll from all produce such circumstance
As shall the king's new jealousy advance.
Nay, sir, I'll try what mighty love you show:
If you will make me great, begin it now.
How, sir, d'ye stand considering what to do?

_Ruy-Gom. _ No, but methinks I view from hence a king,
A queen, and prince, three goodly flowers spring:
Whilst on them like a subtle bee I'll prey,
Till, so their strength and virtue drawn away,
Unable to recover, each shall droop,
Grow pale, and fading hang his withered top:
Then, fraught with thyme, triumphant back I'll come,
And unlade all the precious sweets at home. [_Exit. _

_D. of Eboli. _ In thy fond policy, blind fool, go on,
And make what haste thou canst to be undone,
Whilst I have nobler business of my own.
Was I bred up in greatness; have I been
Nurtured with glorious hopes to be a queen;
Made love my study, and with practised charms
Prepared myself to meet a monarch's arms;
At last to be condemned to the embrace
Of one whom nature made to her disgrace,
An old, imperfect, feeble dotard, who
Can only tell (alas! ) what he would do?
On him to throw away my youth and bloom,
As jewels that are lost to enrich a tomb?
No, though all hopes are in a husband dead,
Another path to happiness I'll tread;
Elsewhere find joys which I'm in him denied:
Yet, while he can, let the slave serve my pride.
Still I'll in pleasure live, in glory shine;
The gallant, youthful Austria shall be mine:
To him with all my force of charms I'll move:
Let others toil for greatness, whilst I love. [_Exit. _

[Illustration]

[Illustration]

FOOTNOTES:

[11] _i. e. _ Faults.




ACT THE SECOND.


SCENE I. --_An Orange Grove, near the Palace. _

_Enter_ Don JOHN of Austria.

Don John. Why should dull law rule nature, who first made
That law by which herself is now betrayed?
Ere man's corruptions made him wretched, he
Was born most noble that was born most free:
Each of himself was lord, and, unconfined,
Obeyed the dictates of his god-like mind.
Law was an innovation brought in since,
When fools began to love obedience,
And called their slavery safety and defence.
My glorious father got me in his heat,
When all he did was eminently great:
When warlike Belgia felt his conquering power,
And the proud Germans owned him emperor,
Why should it be a stain then on my blood,
Because I came not in the common road,
But born obscure, and so more like a god?
No; though his diadem another wear,
At least to all his pleasures I'll be heir.
Here I should meet my Eboli, my fair.

_Enter_ Duchess of EBOLI.

She comes; as the bright Cyprian goddess moves,
When loose, and in her chariot drawn by doves,
She rides to meet the warlike god she loves.

_D. of Eboli. _ Alas! my lord, you know not with what fear
And hazard I am come to meet you here.

_Don John. _ Oh, banish it: lovers like us should fly,
And, mounted by their wishes, soar on high,
Where softest ecstasies and transports are,
While fear alone disturbs the lower air.

_D. of Eboli. _ But who is safe when eyes are everywhere?
Or, if we could with happiest secrecy
Enjoy these sweets, oh, whither shall we fly
To escape that sight whence we can nothing hide?

_Don John. _ Alas! lay this religion now aside;
I'll show thee one more pleasant, that which Jove
Set forth to the old world, when from above
He came himself, and taught his mortals love.

_D. of Eboli. _ Will nothing then quench your unruly flame?
My lord, you might consider who I am.

_Don John. _ I know you're her I love, what should I more
Regard?

_D. of Eboli. _ [_Aside. _] By Heaven, he's brave! --
But can so poor
A thought possess your breast, to think that I
Will brand my name with lust and infamy?

_Don John. _ Those who are noblest born should higher prize
Love's sweets. Oh! let me fly into those eyes!
There's something in them leads my soul astray:
As he who in a necromancer's glass
Beholds his wished-for fortune by him pass,
Yet still with greedy eyes
Pursues the vision as it glides away.

_D. of Eboli. _ Protect me, Heaven! I dare no longer stay;
Your looks speak danger; I feel something too
That bids me fly, yet will not let me go. [_Half aside. _

_Don John. _ Take vows and prayers if ever I prove false.
See at your feet the humble Austria falls. [_Kneels. _

_D. of Eboli. _ Rise, rise. [Don JOHN _rises_. ] My lord, why
would you thus deceive? [_Sighs. _

_Don John. _ How many ways to wound me you contrive!
Speak, wouldst thou have an empire at thy feet?
Say, wouldst thou rule the world? I'll conquer it.

_D. of Eboli. _ No; above empire far I could prize you,
If you would be but--

_Don John. _ What?

_D. of Eboli. _ For ever true.

_Don John. _ That thou mayst ne'er have cause to fear those harms,
I'll be confined for ever in thy arms:
Nay, I'll not one short minute from thee stray;
Myself I'll on thy tender bosom lay,
Till in its warmths I'm melted all away.

_Enter_ GARCIA.

_Gar. _ Madam, your lord--

_D. of Eboli. _ Oh! fly, or I'm undone. [_Exit_ GARCIA.

_Don John. _ Must I without thy blessing then be gone?

[_Kisses her hand. _

_D. of Eboli. _ Think you that this discretion merits one?

[_Pulls it back. _

_Don John. _ I'm awed:
As a sick wretch, that on his death-bed lies,
Loth with his friends to part, just as he dies,
Thus sends his soul in wishes from his eyes. [_Exit. _

_D. of Eboli. _ O Heaven! what charms in youth and vigour are!
Yet he in conquest is not gone too far;
Too easily I'll not myself resign:
Ere I am his, I'll make him surely mine;
Draw him by subtle baits into the trap,
Till he's too far got in to make escape;
About him swiftly the soft snare I'll cast,
And when I have him there, I'll hold him fast.

_Enter_ RUY-GOMEZ.

_Ruy-Gom. _ Thus unaccompanied I subtly range
The solitary paths of dark revenge:
The fearful deer in herds to coverts run,
While beasts of prey affect to roam alone.

_D. of Eboli. _ Ah! my dear lord, how do you spend your hours?
You little think what my poor heart endures;
Whilst, with your absence tortured, I in vain
Pant after joys I ne'er can hope to gain.

_Ruy-Gom. _ You cannot my unkindness sure upbraid;
You should forgive those faults yourself have made.
Remember you the task you gave?

_D. of Eboli. _ 'Tis true;
Your pardon, for I do remember now. [_Sighs. _
If I forgot, 'twas love had all my mind;
And 'tis no sin, I hope, to be too kind.

_Ruy-Gom. _ How happy am I in a faithful wife!
O thou most precious blessing of my life!

_D. of Eboli. _ Does then success attend upon your toil?
I long to see you revel in the spoil.

_Ruy-Gom. _ What strictest diligence could do, I've done,
To incense an angry father 'gainst his son.
I to advantage told him all that's past,
Described with art each amorous glance they cast:
So that this night he shunned the marriage-bed,
Which through the court has various murmurs spread.

_Enter the_ KING, _attended by the_ Marquis of POSA.

See where he comes with fury in his eyes:
Kind Heaven, but grant the storm may higher rise!
If't grow too loud, I'll lurk in some dark cell,
And laugh to hear my magic work so well.

_King. _ What's all my glory, all my pomp? how poor
Is fading greatness! or how vain is power!
Where all the mighty conquests I have seen?
I, who o'er nations have victorious been,
Now cannot quell one little foe within.
Cursed jealousy, that poisons all love's sweets!
How heavy on my heart the invader sits!
O Gomez, thou hast given my mortal wound.

_Ruy-Gom. _ What is't does so your royal thoughts confound?
A king his power unbounded ought to have,
And, ruling all, should not be passion's slave.

_King. _ Thou counsell'st well, but art no stranger sure
To the sad cause of what I now endure.
Know'st thou what poison thou didst lately give,
And dost not wonder to behold me live?

_Ruy-Gom. _ I only did as by my duty tied,
And never studied any thing beside.

_King. _ I do not blame thy duty or thy care:
Quickly, what passed between them more, declare.
How greedily my soul to ruin flies!
As he who in a fever burning lies
First of his friends does for a drop implore,
Which tasted once, unable to give o'er,
Knows 'tis his bane, yet still thirsts after more.
Oh, then--

_Ruy-Gom. _ I fear that you'll interpret wrong;
Tis true, they gazed, but 'twas not very long.

_King. _ Lie still, my heart! Not long, was't that you said?

_Ruy-Gom. _ No longer than they in your presence stayed.

_King. _ No longer? Why, a soul in less time flies
To Heaven; and they have changed theirs at their eyes.
Hence, abject fears, begone! she's all divine!
Speak, friends, can angels in perfection sin?

_Ruy-Gom. _ Angels, that shine above, do oft bestow
Their influence on poor mortals here below.

_King.
_ But Carlos is my son, and always near;
Seems to move with me in my glorious sphere.
True, she may shower promiscuous blessings down
On slaves that gaze for what falls from a crown;
But when too kindly she his brightness sees,
It robs my lustre to add more to his.
But oh! I dare not think
That those eyes should at least so humble be
To stoop to him, when they had vanquished me.

_M. of Posa. _ Sir, I am proud to think I know the prince,
That he of virtue has too great a sense
To cherish but a thought beyond the bound
Of strictest duty. He to me has owned
How much was to his former passion due,
Yet still confessed he above all prized you.

_Ruy-Gom. _ You better reconcile, sir, than advise:
Be not more charitable than you're wise.
The king is sick, and we should give him ease,
But first find out the depth of his disease.
Too sudden cures have oft pernicious grown;
We must not heal up festered wounds too soon.

_King. _ By this then you a power would o'er me gain,
Wounding to let me linger in the pain.
I'm stung, and won't the torture long endure:
Serpents that wound have blood those wounds to cure.

_Ruy-Gom. _ Good Heaven forbid that I should ever dare
To question virtue in a queen so fair,
Though she her eyes cast on your glorious son!
Men oft see treasures, and yet covet none.

_King. _ Think not to blind me with dark ironies,
The truth disguised in obscure contraries.
No, I will trace his windings; all her dark
And subtlest paths, each little action mark,
If she prove false, as yet I fear, she dies.

_Enter_ QUEEN _attended, and_ HENRIETTA.

Ha! here! Oh, let me turn away my eyes,
For all around she'll her bright beams display:
Should I to gaze on the wild meteor stay,
Spite of myself I shall be led astray.

[_Exeunt_ KING _and_ Marquis of POSA.

_Queen. _ How scornfully he is withdrawn!
Sure ere his love he'd let me know his power,
As Heaven oft thunders ere it sends a shower.
This Spanish gravity is very odd:
All things are by severity so awed,
That little Love dares hardly peep abroad.

_Hen. _ Alas! what can you from old age expect,
When frail uneasy men themselves neglect?
Some little warmth perhaps may be behind,
Though such as in extinguished fires you'll find;
Where some remains of heat the ashes hold,
Which, if for more you open, straight are cold.

_Queen. _ 'Twas interest and safety of the state,--
Interest, that bold imposer on our fate;
That always to dark ends misguides our wills,
And with false happiness smooths o'er our ills.
It was by that unhappy France was led,
When, though by contract I should Carlos wed,
I was an offering made to Philip's bed.
Why sigh'st thou, Henrietta?

_Hen. _ Who is't can
Know your sad fate, and yet from grief refrain?
With pleasure oft I've heard you smiling tell
Of Carlos' love.

_Queen. _ And did it please you well?
In that brave prince's courtship there did meet
All that we could obliging call, or sweet.
At every point he with advantage stood;
Fierce as a lion, if provoked abroad;
Else soft as angels, charming as a god.

_Hen. _ One so accomplished, and who loved you too,
With what resentments must he part with you!
Methinks I pity him----But oh! in vain:
He's both above my pity and my pain. [_Aside. _

_Queen. _ What means this strange disorder?

_Hen. _ Yonder view
That which I fear will discompose you too.

_Enter_ Don CARLOS _and_ Marquis of POSA.

_Queen. _ Alas, the prince! There to my mind appears
Something that in me moves unusual fears.
Away, Henrietta-- [_Offers to go. _

_Don Car. _ Why would you be gone?
Is Carlos' sight ungrateful to you grown?
If 'tis, speak: in obedience I'll retire.

_Queen. _ No, you may speak, but must advance no nigher.

_Don Car. _ Must I then at that awful distance sue,
As our forefathers were compelled to do,
When they petitions made at that great shrine,
Where none but the high priest might enter in?
Let me approach; I've nothing for your ear,
But what's so pure it might be offered there.

_Queen. _ Too long 'tis dangerous for me here to stay:
If you must speak, proceed: what would you say?

[Don CARLOS _kneels_.

Nay, this strange ceremony pray give o'er.

_Don Car. _ Was I ne'er in this posture seen before?
Ah! can your cruel heart so soon resign
All sense of these sad sufferings of mine?
To your more just remembrance, if you can,
Recall how fate seemed kindly to ordain
That once you should be mine; which I believed:
Though now, alas! I find I was deceived.

_Queen. _ Then, sir, you should your fate, not me upbraid.

_Don Car. _ I will not say you've broke the vows you made;
Only implore you would not quite forget
The wretch you've oft seen dying at your feet;
And now no other favour begs to have,
Than such kind pity as becomes your slave.
For 'midst your highest joys, without a crime,
At least you now and then may think of him.

_Queen. _ If e'er you loved me, you would this forbear;
It is a language which I dare not hear.
My heart and faith become your father's right,
All other passions I must now forget.

_Don Car. _ Can then a crown and majesty dispense
Upon your heart such mighty influence,
That I must be for ever banished thence?
Had I been raised to all the heights of power,
In triumph crowned the world's great emperor,
Of all its riches, all its state possessed,
Yet you should still have governed in my breast.

_Queen. _ In vain on her you obligations lay,
Who wants not will, but power to repay.

_Hen. _ Yet had you Henrietta's heart, you would
At least strive to afford him all you could. [_Aside. _

_Don Car. _ Oh! say not you want power; you may with one
Kind look pay doubly all I've undergone.
And knew you but the innocence I bear,
How pure, how spotless all my wishes are,
You would not scruple to supply my want,
When all I ask you may so safely grant.

_Queen. _ I know not what to grant; too well I find
That still at least I cannot be unkind.

_Don Car. _ Afford me then that little which I crave.

_Queen. _ You shall not want what I may let you have.

[_Gives her hand, sighing. _

_Don Car. _ Like one
That sees a heap of gems before him cast,
Thence to choose any that may please him best;
From the rich treasure whilst I choice should make,
Dazzled with all, I know not where to take.
I would be rich--

_Queen. _ Nay, you too far encroach;
I fear I have already given too much. [_Turns from him. _

_Don Car. _ Oh, take not back again the appearing bliss:
How difficult's the path to happiness!
Whilst up the precipice we climb with pain,
One little slip throws us quite down again.
Stay, madam, though you nothing more can give
Than just enough to keep a wretch alive,
At least remember how I've loved--

_Queen. _ I will.

_Don Car. _ That was so kind, that I must beg more still;
Let me love on: it is a very poor
And easy grant, yet I'll request no more.

_Queen. _ Do you believe that you can love retain,
And not expect to be beloved again?

_Don Car. _ Yes, I will love, and think I'm happy too,
So long as I can find that you are so;
All my disquiets banish from my breast;
I will endeavour to do so at least. [_Sighing deeply. _
Or, if I can't my miseries outwear,
They never more shall come to offend your ear.

_Queen. _ Love then, brave prince, whilst I'll thy love admire;

[_Gives her hand, which_ Don CARLOS _during_
_all this speech kisses eagerly_.

Yet keep the flame so pure, such chaste desire,
That without spot hereafter we above
May meet, when we shall come all soul, all love.
Till when--Oh! whither am I run astray?
I grow too weak, and must no longer stay:
For should I, the soft charm so strong would grow,
I find that I shall want the power to go.

[_Exeunt_ QUEEN _and_ HENRIETTA.

_Don Car. _ Oh, sweet--
If such transport be in a taste so small,
How blest must he be that possesses all!
Where am I, Posa? Where's the queen?

[_Standing amazed. _

_M. of Posa. _ My lord,
A while some respite to your heart afford:
The queen's retired--

_Don Car. _ Retired! And did she then
Just show me Heaven, to shut it in again?
This little ease augments my pain the more;
For now I'm more impatient than before,
And have discovered riches make me mad.

_M. of Posa. _ But since those treasures are not to be had,
You should correct desires that drive you on
Beyond that duty which becomes a son.
No longer let the tyrant love invade;
The brave may by themselves be happy made.
You to your father now must all resign.

_Don Car. _ But ere he robbed me of her, she was mine.
To be my friend is all thou hast to do,
For half my miseries thou canst not know.
Make myself happy! Bid the damned do so;
Who in sad flames must be for ever tossed,
Yet still in view of the loved Heaven they've lost. [_Exeunt. _

[Illustration]

[Illustration]




ACT THE THIRD.


SCENE I. --_The same. _

_Enter_ Don JOHN of Austria.

Don John. How vainly would dull moralists impose
Limits on love, whose nature brooks no laws?
Love is a god, and like a god should be
Inconstant, with unbounded liberty,
Rove as he list--
I find it; for even now I've had a feast,
Of which a god might covet for a taste.
Methinks I yet
See with what soft devotion in her eyes
The tender lamb came to the sacrifice.
Oh, how her charms surprised me as I lay!
Like too near sweets they took my sense away;
And I even lost the power to reach at joy.
But those cross witchcrafts soon unravelled were,
And I was lulled in trances sweeter far:
As anchored vessels in calm harbours ride,
Rocked on the swellings of the floating tide.
How wretched's then the man, who though alone
He thinks he's blest, yet, as confined to one,
Is but at best a prisoner on a throne?

_Enter the_ KING _attended_, Marquis of POSA, _and_
RUY-GOMEZ.

_King. _ Ye mighty powers, whose substitutes we are,
On whom you've lain of earth the rule and care,
Why all our toils do you reward with ill,
And to those weighty cares add greater still?
Oh, how could I your deities enrage,
That blessed my youth, thus to afflict my age?
A queen and a son's incest! dismal thought!

_Don John. _ What is't so soon his majesty has brought
From the soft arms of his young bride? [_To_ RUY-GOMEZ.

_King. _ Ay, true!
Is she not, Austria, young and charming too?
Dost thou not think her to a wonder fair?
Tell me!

_Don John. _ By Heaven, more bright than planets are:
Her beauty's force might even their power out-do.

_King. _ Nay, she's as false, and as unconstant too.
O Austria, that a form so outward bright
Should be within all dark and ugly night!
For she, to whom I'd dedicated all
My love, that dearest jewel of my soul,
Takes from its shrine the precious relic down,
To adorn a little idol of her own,--
My son! that rebel both to Heaven and me!
Oh, the distracting throes of jealousy!
But as a drowning wretch, just like to sink,
Seeing him that threw him in upon the brink,
At the third plunge lays hold upon his foe,
And tugs him down into destruction too;
So thou, from whom these miseries I've known,
Shalt bear me out again, or with me drown.

[_Seizes roughly_ on RUY-GOMEZ.

_Ruy-Gom. _ My loyalty will teach me how to wait
All the successes of my sovereign's fate.
What is't, great sir, you would command me?

_King. _ How!
What is't? --I know not what I'd have thee do:
Study revenge for me, 'tis that I want.

_Don John. _ Alas! what frenzy does your temper haunt?
Revenge! on whom?

_King.