Don Carlos, infante of Spain: a dramatic poem, in five acts

Dedication

HIS ROYAL HIGHNESS

PRINCE ALBERT OF SAXE COBURG GOTHA, &c. &c. &c.

Sir,

Preface

Much has been written on the character of Don Carlos, heir apparent of the mysterious Philip II. of Spain. Research, however, has produced nothing very satisfactory as to his connexion with the revolt of the Netherlands, or the intrigues which occasioned his confinement and subsequently his death. Still less authority is there for his reported passion for the Queen, and his father's jealousy. The fact, however, of his having been betrothed to her, might not unnaturally irritate a youth of violent temper, and would give a fair colouring to such a supposition. To criticise the plot of the dramatic poem which Schiller has composed upon these data, and to compare it, historically speaking, with others written on the same subject in different languages and at different periods, would exceed the ordinary limits of a preface. Suffice it to enquire how far he has followed or violated the laws of the iv. PREFACE.

Aristotelian drama. The facts simply are, that Schiller wrote the first two acts, which were published separately; and that a considerable period elapsed before he added the three others. It is said, that he found in the archives at Dresden, which he was examining in search of documents relative to the revolt of the Netherlands, some among them which bore upon the history and character of Don Carlos, and induced him to alter the plot of the play; a circumstance that laid him open to the charge of want of unity in its development, and of having sacrificed Don Carlos, the hero of the first two acts, to the Marquis Posa, who plays the most prominent part in the three subsequent ones. He has himself pleaded guilty, in part, to the accusation; excusing himself by the interruptions which occurred in the completion of it, and observing that the time employed in a work of this description ought not to exceed a single summer. He has, however, so completely disarmed and refuted the criticisms made upon it in other particulars, that it would be superfluous as well as presumptuous in me, to offer any apology for a work of so distinguished talent. The grandeur of the ideas and the sublimity of the language which prevail

PREFACE. v.

throughout the poem, speak too loudly for themselves, and are too universally acknowledged, to require any comment. I am fully aware how difficult, and perhaps impossible,*it is to do justice in a translation to any original so full of poetry of the highest order as Schiller's Don Carlos. Inadequate as 1 cannot but feel I am to accomplish it successfully, my object has been to bring it more into the notice of English readers, and in so doing to adhere as literally as possible to the text of the author. 1 trust, therefore, that the public will make allowance for my defects of language, and want of harmony in the rhythm, where 1 have been obliged to sacrifice it in order to preserve the identity of the original.

INFANTE OF SPAIN;

A DRAMATIC POEM.

DRAMATIS PERSON/E.

Philip II, King of Spain.

Elizabeth of Valois, his Wife, Don Carlos, the Crown Prince.

AlexanderFarnese, Prince of Parma, the King' s Nephew. The Infanta Clara Eugenia, a child of three years old. The Duchess Olivarez, first Lady. Marchioness Mondekar, ) Princess Eboli, > Ladies of the Queen.

Countess Fuentes, 3 Marquis Posa, a Knight of Malta, Duke Alba,

Count Lerma, Colonel of the Body Guard, Duke Feria, Knight of the Golden Fleece, Duke Medina Sidonia, Admiral, Don Raymond of Taxis, Postmaster-general, Domingo, the King's Confessor. The Grand Inquisitor of the Kingdom. The Prior of a Carthusian Convent. Queen's Page.

Don Louis Merkado, the Queen's private Physician. Several Ladies and Grandees.

Pages.

Officers.

The Body Guard and various other persons.

Grandees 0/ Spain.

DON CARLOS.

SCENE I. — The Royal Garden in Aranjuez, Carlos. Domingo. DOMINGO

The summer days in Aranjuez now

Are come to a close. Your Royal Highness

Leaves it not in better spirits. In vain

Have we been here. Break this mysterious silence :

Open your heart, Prince, to a father's heart.

Too dear his son's repose — his only son's —

Whate'er the price, the monarch cannot buy.

(Carlos looks on the ground in silence) Is there a wish ungratified which Heav'n Denies to one the dearest of its sons '? I stood thereby when in Toledo's walls, The haughty Carl receiv'd their homages, As Princes crowded on to kiss his hand. And now at once six kingdoms at his feet Lay prostrate. And I saw the young high blood Mount in his cheeks, his noble bosom swell With princely resolutions ; saw his eye O'ercharg'd with joy the whole assembly scan, And with that glance confess his satisfaction.

(Carlos turns away) This solemn, silent anguish, Prince, which we Read in your countenance these eight months past,

ACT I.

The riddle of the court, the kingdom's pain, Full many nights of anxious care has cost His Majesty — full many tears your mother.

carlos. (turns hastily round) Mother! 0! Heaven, grant I may forgive The man who made me call her mother !

DOMINGO.

Prince !

carlos. (considers and passes his hand over his forehead) Right-worthy sir — I'm most unfortunate In what regards my mothers. My first act Was, as I drew new-born the light of day, A mother's murder.

DOMINGO.

Is it possible?

Can this reproach disturb your conscience, Prince?

CARLOS.

And my new mother — has she not already Cost me my father's love ? My father scarce Began to love me. All my merit was To be his only child; and she has borne A daughter to him. O! who can foresee Events which slumber in the womb of time ?

DOMINGO.

You mock me, Prince. All Spain adores her Queen

Should you alone with eye of hate look on her?

Listen to prudence only in her sight ?

How, Prince ? The fairest dame in all this world —

The Queen too she — and formerly your bride?

Impossible! Incredible! Prince! Never!

Carl cannot hate alone, where all adore;

Carlos can never contradict himself

So strangely. Prince, beware she ever learn

How much she has incurr'd her son's dislike;

The news would wound her deeply.

scene i. A DRAMATIC POEM.

CARLOS.

Think you so?

DOMINGO.

If still your Highness call to recollection

Where a lance-splinter graz'd our Sovereign —

The Queen surrounded by her ladies sat

Upon the centre tribune of the palace,

And watch'd the onset. Suddenly they cried,

" The King is wounded ! " — All press eager on,

And the low murmur reach'd her Royal ear.

" The Prince ? " she screams, and from the balustrade,

The topmost balustrade would throw herself,

" The King himself" they answer — " Let them fetch

The surgeons ! " she replied, as she drew breath.

(after a pause)

You are considering!

CARLOS.

I am admiring The King's facetious confessor, who is So conversant with witty stories.

(Seriously and austerely) I

Have heard it oft remarked, that talebearers And those who watch the change of countenance, Have work'd more mischief in this world of ours, Than poison or the dagger e'er could do. Your pains, Sir, may be spar'd. If you expect Thanks, go you to the King.

DOMINGO.

You act, my Prince, Wisely, to be upon your guard with men — But you should know how to discriminate. A friend repulse not with the hypocrite ; I mean you well.

B 2

ACT f.

CARLOS.

Then let my father not Observe it. Otherwise you lose the Purple.

DOMINGO.

How?

CARLOS.

Yes now. Has he not made you a promise Of the first Purple in the gift of Spain?

DOMINGO.

You mock me, Prince.

CARLOS.

No ! God forbid, I mock The awful man, who has the pow'r to bless And curse my father.

DOMINGO.

I will not presume Within the sanctum of your privacy T'intrude myself, Prince. I would only beg Your Highness to be mindful, that the Church For consciences the most disturb'd, provides A refuge, of which monarchs have no key. Where crimes themselves find a retreat beneath The sacramental seal — You understand me, Prince! I have said enough.

CARLOS.

No ! far be it From me to tempt the keeper of that seal.

DOMINGO.

Prince, this mistrust — You do misapprehend Your most devoted servant.

carlos. (takes him by the hand) Give me up The rather then. You are a holy man, The world knows that — but to be candid with you — For me you're now too zealous, and your path Is very toilsome, right worthy Father, scene I. A DRAMATIC POEM.

V3

Until you sit you down on Peter's seat.

Much knowledge may o'ercome you. Mention this

Unto his Majesty who sent you here.

DOMINGO.

Who sent me here ?

CARLOS.

So said I. O ! too well, Too well I know that in this very Court 1 am betray'd — I know, a hundred eyes Are hir'd to watch me, that King Philip sold His only son unto his vilest slave. Full well I know that ev'ry syllable That falls from me a messenger reports, Which service he more lavishly rewards, Than he as yet e'er did for virtuous deeds. I know — O ! still ! No more of it. My heart Will overflow, I've said too much already.

DOMINGO.

The King intends to reach Madrid by daylight. The Court already is assembling, Prince, Have I the honour —

CARLOS.

Very good. I follow. (Domingo retires, After a pause) O ! piteous Philip, piteous as thy son ! — I see thy soul already bleeding with Suspicion's foul envenom'd serpent-sting ; Thy hapless fatal curiosity Hastens the fearfullest discovery, And when thou'st made it, it will madden thee !

ACT. I.

SCENE II. Carlos, Marquis Posa

CARLOS.

Who comes? — What see I ? O ! good Genii, My Roderick!

MARQUIS.

My Carlos !

CARLOS.

Can it be?

Is 't true? Is 't really true? Is 't thou?— Tis thou!

I press thee to my bosom, I feel thine

All powerfully beat against my own.

O! now all's well again. In this embrace

My wounded heart is heal'd, I hang upon

My Roderick's neck.

MARQUIS.

Your wounded — wounded heart?

And what is well again? What needed cure? You startle me.

CARLOS.

And what has brought thee back So unexpectedly from Brussels ? Whom ? Whom do I thank for this surprise? Whom? Whom? Still do I ask? Forgive one drunk with joy, Great Providence, this blasphemy ! Whom else, Whom else but thee, All mightiest? Thou knew'st That Carlos had no guardian Angel, thou Sentest me this, and do I ask again?

MARQUIS.

Forgive, dear Prince, if I but ill repay These boist'rous transports with astonishment. I did not think to find Don Philip's son In such a mood. Your pale and hollow cheeks

A DRAMATIC POEM.

Are lighted up, unnaturally red,

And your lips quiver with a fev'rish heat,

What must I think, dear Prince? — This cannot be

The lion-hearted youth, to whom I'm sent

By noble spirits in oppression sunk —

For I stand not before you now as Roderick,

Not as the playfellow of boyish Carl —

But as the deputy of human kind

Do I embrace you — 'tis all Flanders weeps

Upon your neck and stirs you to their rescue.

That well-beloved land is lost, if Aiba,

Marches on Brussels with his Spanish laws.

The last surviving hope of that bold land

Rests on the Grandson of the Emperor Carl.

It perishes, should his exalted soul

Have lost the pow'r to aid humanity.

CARLOS.

It perishes.

MARQUIS.

Ah! me! What do I hear?

CARLOS.

Thou speak'st of times, which long are pass'd away.

I too have dream'd once of a certain Carl,

Whose cheeks were heated with a sudden fire

Whene'er they spoke of liberty — But he

Is long entomb' d. He, thou beholdest here,

Is not that Carl who took his leave of thee

In Alcala, who swore presumptuously

In sweet intoxication, to create

A new and golden aera here in Spain —

The thought was childish, but divinely fair.

These dreams are past. —

MARQUIS.

Dreams, Prince! — Were they but dreams?

ACT. I.

CARLOS.

Ah ! let me weep, and on thy bosom shed

A flood of burning tears, my only friend.

I possess none — none — none on this wide earth.

In the broad realms my father's sceptre sways,

Th' expanse of waters where our flag 's unfurl'd:

There is no place — none else — where I could dare

By tears to lighten my o'erburden'd soul.

I charge thee, Roderick, by all that thou

And I hereafter hope in Heav'n above,

Dispel me not from this beloved spot !

{The Marquis bends over him in speechless emotion)

CARLOS.

Persuade thyself I am an orphan child,

Whom thy compassion rais'd up by the throne.

Truly I know not what a father means —

I am a King's son. — O ! should it occur,

What my heart whispers, should'st thou be alone

'Mong millions found to understand my state ;

Should it be true, that nature's parent hand

In Carlos recreated Roderick,

And in the morning of our life awoke

The sympathetic chord which joins our souls,

! if the tear which mitigates my grief

Be dearer to thee than my father's smiles —

MARQUIS.

'Tis dearer far than all the world besides.

CARLOS.

So low I'm fallen, and so poor I'm grown, That I must conjure up our childhood's years — That I must sue thee to discharge the debts Forgotten long, in infancy contracted — When thou and I, two wild boys as we were, Grew up as brothers, my one sorrow was, To feel my talents thus eclips'd by thine. — Then I resolv'd to love thee without bounds, scene ii. A DRAMATIC POEM.

Because I had not courage to be like thee.

Hereon began I to torment thee with

A thousand tender pledges of my love,

Which thy proud heart return'd with chilling cold.

Oft stood I there — yet thou observ'd'st it not !

Hot, heavy tear-drops hanging on mine eye,

If thou ran'st by me, and with open arms

Press' d'st to thy bosom some inferior friends.

Why only these ? I mournfully exclaim'd :

Do I not also dearly love thee too ? —

Thou ceremoniously, and coldly knelt'st:

That thou observd'st is due to the King's son.

MARQUIS.

O ! cease, Prince, from these boyish recollections, Which make me still red with the blush of shame.

CARLOS.

This did I merit not from thee. Despise

Thou might'st, and deeply wound my heart, but ne'er

Estrange it from thee. Thrice the Prince repuls'd,

Thrice he came back to thee a suppliant,

T'implore thy love, and force his own on thee.

Chance brought about, what Carlos ne'er could do.

It happen'd in our games thy shuttlecock

Struck in the eye my aunt, Bohemia's Queen.

She thought 'twas done intentionally, and

Suffus'd in tears complain'd unto the King.

All the young courtiers were straightway summon'd

The culprit to denounce. The treach'rous act

The monarch swore most fearfully to punish,

Tho' 'twere his son who did it — I perceiv'd

Thee trembling in the distance, and forthwith

Stepp'd out, and threw me at the monarch's feet.

I, I it was who did it, I exclaim'd :

On thine own son thy vengeance wreak !

MARQUIS.

Ah, Prince,

ACT I.

What recollections you recall !

CARLOS.

It was wreak'd.

In presence of the servants of the court, Who all stood round compassionate, 'twas wreak'd Upon thy Carl fully as on a slave. I look'd at thee and wept not : tho' the pang Made my teeth chatter loudly, I wept not. My Royal blood gush'd mercilessly out At ev'ry stroke disgracefully ; I look'd At thee, and wept not — thou cam'st up, and threw'st Thyself loud sobbing at my feet. Yes, yes, Thou cried'st, my pride is overcome. I will Repay the debt, when thou art King.

Marquis, (holds out his hand to him)

And I

Will do so, Carl. The vow I made as boy, I now renew as man. I will repay. E'en now perhaps the hour is come.

CARLOS.

Now, now; O! tarry not. The hour is truly come. This is the moment when thou may'st redeem it. I need thy love — A fearful secret burns Within my breast. It must, it must come out. In thy pale looks my death-blow will I read. Listen — be petrified — but answer not — I love my Mother.

MARQUIS.

0! my God!

CARLOS.

No! This

Forbearance will I not. Speak out. Say that Within this w r ide earth's orb no wretchedness Borders on mine — Speak — all that thou can'st say Do 1 divine ; the son his mother loves.

scene if. A DRAMATIC POEM.

Custom, the rules of nature, and Rome's laws Condemn this passion. My pretension strikes Fearfully 'gainst my father's privilege. I feel it, still I love. This path I know- To madness or the scaffold only leads. I love without a hope—unnaturally — With agony, and danger of my life — I see all this, and yet I love her still.

MARQUIS.

Does the Queen know of this attachment?

CARLOS.

Could I

Disclose myself to her ? She 's Philip's wife, And Queen ; and this is Spanish territory. Watch'd by my father's jealousy, and hemm'd On all sides in by strictest etiquette, How could I hope t' approach her unobserv'd? 'Tis now eight months of hellish agony I've past, since from the university The King recall'd me ; and I'm daily doom'd To see her, and be silent as the grave. Roderick, eight months of agony of hell This flame of passion rages in my breast, A thousand times the dread confession has Burst on my lips, then timid and alarm'd Back to my heart it steals. O ! Roderick- Alone with her but for a few short moments —

MARQUIS.

Ah ! and your father, Prince —

CARLOS.

Unfortunate !

Why remind me of him? Speak to me of All pangs of conscience ; speak not of my father.

MARQUIS.

You hate your father?

c 2

ACT. T.

CARLOS.

Ah, no ! I hate not My father — But at his terrific name, A shivering", an apprehension such As culprits feel, takes hold of me. Can I Feel otherwise, when slavish education Nipp'd in the bud the tender germ of love In my young heart? Six years I liv'd before The fearful one they told me was my father My eyes beheld. 'Twas on a morning that He sign'd at once four sentences of death. From this time forth, I saw him only when Some fault of mine was mark'd for punishment. — O ! God ! here feel I that I am become Bitter — Away — Away — we'll from this place !

MARQUIS.

No, you must make, Prince, this disclosure noiv. The o'ercharg'd soul with words relieves itself.

CARLOS.

Oft have I wrestled with myself, and oft At midnight when my keepers slept, with floods Of burning tears have thrown myself before The image of the blessed virgin, and Implor'd of her a filial heart, but rose Without a hearing. Ah, my Roderick ! This wond'rous mystery of Providence Unravel to me — Why this father is Among a thousand, lotted to me? And, 'Mong thousand better, why this son to him? In her wide circle nature never found Two elements more opposite. And why Should she perforce with ties so sacred join The two extremes of mankind — me and him? Ill fated lot ! Why was it so decreed ? Why should two men who always shun each other, Clash just in one design so fearfully?

scene ii. A DRAMATIC POEM.

Here see'st thou, Roderick, two hostile stars, Which only once in the whole course of time Coming in contact vertically, dash Against each other, and for ever separate.

MARQUIS.

I feel a dread foreboding.

CARLOS.

So do I.

The fearfull'st dreams like furies from the deep Pursue me. My good genius doubting writhes With schemes of horror; my ill boding fancy Steals thro' the labyrinth of sophisms, till At last it stops upon th' abyss's brink — O ! Roderick, if in him I e'er forgot The father — Roderick — I perceive too well, Thy death-pale looks have understood me right. If I the father e'er in him forgot, What would the King be to me ?

marquis, (after a pause)

May I venture Of my dear Carlos one request to make ? Whate'er you purpose, promise me to do Nothing without your friend. You promise me?

CARLOS.

All, all, whate'er thy love requires of me. I place myself entirely in thy hands.

MARQUIS.

They say the King returns to town to night. The time is short. If you desire to speak In private with the Queen, it can only be In Aranjuez. The still quiet of The place — the manners of a country life, Free from court ceremony, favour it —

CARLOS.

That was my hope too. But, alas! 'twas vain!

2*2

ACT I.

MARQUIS.

Not altogether so. I will present

Myself to her forthwith; and if she be

The same in Spain she was at Henry's court,

I find her open-hearted. Should I read

A hope for Carlos in her countenance,

If I should find her favorable to

This interview — can her ladies be remov'd —

CARLOS.

The most of them are well dispos'd towards me — The Mondekar especially I've gain'd By int'rest of her son, who is my page. —

MARQUIS.

So much the better. You, Prince, will be near, T'appear at once when I shall give the signal.

CARLOS.

That will I — will I — only hasten now.

MARQUIS.

I will not lose a single moment. Prince, We meet again there then.

(Exeunt at different sides)

Scene III

The Queen 9 s Residence in Aranjuez. — Simple Pleasure^ Grounds, intersected by an Alley, bordered by the Queen's Country House.

The Queen, Duchess Olivarez, Princess Eboli, and Marchioness Mondekar,

(who come up the Alley)

queen, (to the Marchioness) You will I have about me, Mondekar. The merry eyes of the Princess torment Me this whole morning. See, she scarcely knows scene in. A DRAMATIC POEM.

How to conceal her joy, because she takes Leave of the country.

EBOLI.

I will not deny, My Queen, that I shall see Madrid again With great delight.

MONDEKAR.

And will not your Majesty ?

From Aranjuez must you tear yourself With such regret?

QUEEN.

From — these sweet scenes at least. Here am I as it were in my own world, This little spot I chose me long ago To be my fav'rite. Greets me here again The rural nature of my childhood's years The bosom friend. Here too I find again My childish sports, and here I breathe the air Of my lov'd France. Nay, blame me not for this, The heart inclines all to our fatherland.

EBOLI.

But 'tis so dull and melancholy here, So lonely, one might fancy it La Trappe.

QUEEN.

Just the reverse. 'Tis only in Madrid

I find it dull — What says the Duchess to it?

OLIVAREZ.

I think, your Majesty, 't has always been

The custom, since there first were kings in Spain,

To pass the summer months alternately

Here and at Pardo ; in Madrid the winter.

QUEEN.

Yes, Duchess, you well know I have abandon'd For ever arguing with you.

MONDEKAR.

And in

ACT. I.

Madrid how lively it will shortly be !

The Plaza Major is now fitting" up

In preparation for th' approaching bull-fight,

And an 44 auto da f e " is promis'd us —

QUEEN.

Is promised us ! From gentle Mondekar Do I hear this?

MONDEKAR.

Why not ? They certainly Are heretics, whom we see burnt.

QUEEN.

I hope

My Eboli thinks otherwise.

EBOLI.

I? — I trust Your Majesty will not consider me As a worse christian than the Marchioness.

QUEEN.

Ah ! ah ! I had forgotten where I am —

To something else — I think we were conversing

About the country. It appears to me

This month has pass'd with great rapidity.

I promis'd myself in this visit here

Much, very much amusement, and found not

What I expected. Is it always so

With ev'ry hope ? And yet I cannot find

A single wish that was not gratified.

OLIVAREZ.

You have not told us, Princess Eboli, If there is hope for Gomez? And if we May soon congratulate you as his bride ?

QUEEN.

Yes, Duchess, you are right to mention it.

(to the Princess) They beg of me to intercede with you ; But how can I do this? The man whom I scene in. A DRAMATIC POEM.

Reward with Eboli, must be indeed An estimable man.

olivarez.

Your Majesty, That is he ; a right worthy man, a man Whom our most gracious monarch 'tis well known Has honour'd with his royal confidence.

QUEEN.

How happy that must make the man — But we Would know if he can love, and find return Of love? — I ask that of you, Eboli.

EBOLI.

{stands silent and bewildered, her eyes cast upon the ground: at last she falls at the Queen 9 s feet)

Take pity on me, gen'rous Queen. Let not — For God's sake let me not be sacrific'd. *

QUEEN.

Be sacrific'd? Enough — I need no more. Get up. It is indeed a cruel fate, I do believe you, to be sacrific'd. Get up — Is it then long ago since you Refus'd the Count?

eboli. {getting up)

O ! many months. Prince Carlos Was absent still at the university.

QUEEN.

(starts and looks at her with searching eyes) Have you consider'd well upon what grounds?

eboli. (with some vehemence) It never — never can take place, my Queen, Upon a thousand grounds.

queen, (very earnestly)

More than a single One is too much. That you cannot love him — That is enough for me. No more of it.

(to the other Ladies)

ACT I.

1 have not seen th' Infanta yet to-day. Marchioness, bring her to me.

olivarez. (looks at the clock) It is not The hour as yet, your Majesty.

QUEEN.

The hour?

Not yet the hour, when I dare be mother? That is too bad. Take care you let me know Then when it is the hour.

(A Page comes in and whispers to the first lady, who thereupon turns to the Queen)

OLIVAREZ.

The Marquis Posa, May 't please your Majesty —

QUEEN.

The Marquis Posa ?

OLIVAREZ.

He's from the Netherlands and France return'd, And begs the honour to deliver you Some letters from the Regent mother.

QUEEN.

And

Is that allow'd?

olivarez. (considering)

It is not mention'd in My orders this extraordinary case, Whether a Grandee of Castile may come To bring a letter from a foreign court To the Queen of Spain in her garden bower.

QUEEN.

At my own peril then I'll venture it!

OLIVAREZ.

1 hope your Majesty the while will give Me leave of absence — scene nr. A DRAMATIC POEM.

QUEEN.

Duchess, as you please. (The first lady goes away, and the Queen looks at the Page, who immediately retires)