PRINCESS EBOLI, FERIA, MEDINA SIDONIA, PARMA,
DOMINGO, and other grandees.
EBOLI (hurriedly and distractedly).
Where is the king? Where? I must speak with him.
[To FERIA.
Conduct me to him, duke!
FERIA.
The monarch is
Engaged in urgent business. No one now
Can be admitted.
EBOLI.
Has he signed, as yet,
The fatal sentence? He has been deceived.
DOMINGO (giving her a significant look at a distance).
The Princess Eboli!
EBOLI (going to him).
What! you here, priest?
The very man I want! You can confirm
My testimony!
[She seizes his hand and would drag him into the cabinet.
DOMINGO.
I? You rave, princess!
FERIA.
Hold back. The king cannot attend you now.
EBOLI.
But he must hear me; he must hear the truth
The truth, were he ten times a deity.
EBOLI.
Man, tremble at the anger of thy idol.
I have naught left to hazard.
[Attempts to enter the cabinet; ALVA rushes out, his eyes
sparkling, triumph in his gait. He hastens to DOMINGO,
and embraces him.
ALVA.
Let each church
Resound with high To Dennis. Victory
At length is ours.
DOMINGO.
What! Ours?
ALVA (to DOMINGO and the other GRANDEES).
Now to the king.
You shall hereafter hear the sequel from me.
ACT V.
SCENE I.
A chamber in the royal palace, separated from a large fore-court
by an iron-barred gate. Sentinels walking up and down. CARLOS
sitting at a table, with his head leaning forward on his arms, as
if he were asleep. In the background of the chamber are some
officers, confined with him. The MARQUIS POSA enters, unobserved
by him, and whispers to the officers, who immediately withdraw.
He himself steps close up to CARLOS, and looks at him for a few
minutes in silent sorrow. At last he makes a motion which awakens
him out of his stupor. CARLOS rises, and seeing the MARQUIS, starts
back. He regards him for some time with fixed eyes, and draws his
hand over his forehead as if he wished to recollect something.
MARQUIS.
Carlos! 'tie I.
CARLOS (gives him his hand).
Comest thou to me again?
'Tis friendly of thee, truly.
MARQUIS.
Here I thought
Thou mightest need a friend.
CARLOS.
Indeed! was that
Thy real thought? Oh, joy unspeakable!
Right well I knew thou still wert true to me.
MARQUIS.
I have deserved this from thee.
CARLOS.
Hast thou not?
And now we understand each other fully,
It joys my heart. This kindness, this forbearance
Becomes our noble souls. For should there be
One rash, unjust demand amongst my wishes,
Wouldst thou, for that, refuse me what was just?
Virtue I know may often be severe,
But never is she cruel and inhuman.
Oh! it hath cost thee much; full well I know
How thy kind heart with bitter anguish bled
As thy hands decked the victim for the altar.
MARQUIS.
What meanest thou, Carlos?
CARLOS.
Thou, thyself, wilt now
Fulfil the joyous course I should have run.
Thou wilt bestow on Spain those golden days
She might have hoped in vain to win from me.
I'm lost, forever lost; thou saw'st it clearly.
This fatal love has scattered, and forever,
All the bright, early blossoms of my mind.
To all the great, exalted hopes I'm dead.
Chance led thee to the king--or Providence,--
It cost thee but my secret--and at once
He was thine own--thou may'st become his angel:
But I am lost, though Spain perhaps may flourish.
Well, there is nothing to condemn, if not
My own mad blindness. Oh, I should have known
That thou art no less great than tender-hearted.
MARQUIS.
No! I foresaw not, I considered not
That friendship's generous heart would lead thee on
Beyond my worldly prudence. I have erred,
My fabric's shattered--I forgot thy heart.
CARLOS.
Yet, if it had been possible to spare
Her fate--oh, how intensely I had thanked thee!
Could I not bear the burden by myself?
And why must she be made a second victim?
But now no more, I'll spare thee this reproach.
What is the queen to thee? Say, dost thou love her?
Could thy exalted virtue e'er consult
The petty interests of my wretched passion?
Oh, pardon me! I was unjust----
MARQUIS.
Thou art so!
But not for this reproach. Deserved I one,
I merit all--and then I should not stand
Before you as I do.
[He takes out his portfolio.
I have some letters
To give you back of those you trusted to me.
CARLOS (looks first at the letters, then at the MARQUIS, in
astonishment).
How!
MARQUIS.
I return them now because they may
Prove safer in thy custody than mine.
CARLOS.
What meanest thou? Has his majesty not read them?
Have they not been before him?
MARQUIS.
What, these letters!
CARLOS.
Thou didst not show them all, then?
MARQUIS.
Who has said
That ever I showed one?
CARLOS (astonished).
Can it be so?
Count Lerma----
MARQUIS.
He! he told thee so! Now all
Is clear as day. But who could have foreseen it?
Lerma! Oh, no, he hath not learned to lie.
'Tis true, the king has all the other letters.
CARLOS (looks at him long with speechless astonishment).
But wherefore am I here?
MARQUIS.
For caution's sake,
Lest thou should chance, a second time, to make
An Eboli thy confidant.
CARLOS (as if waking from a dream).
Ha! Now
I see it all--all is explained.
MARQUIS (goes to the door).
Who's there?
SCENE II.
DUKE ALVA. The former.
ALVA (approaching the PRINCE with respect, but turning his
back on the MARQUIS during the whole scene).
Prince, you are free. Deputed by the king
I come to tell you so.
[CARLOS looks at the MARQUIS with astonishment.
General silence.
And I, in truth,
Am fortunate to have this honor first----
CARLOS (looking at both with extreme amazement, after a pause,
to the DUKE).
I am imprisoned, duke, and set at freedom,
Unconscious of the cause of one or other.
ALVA.
As far as I know, prince, 'twas through an error,
To which the king was driven by a traitor.
CARLOS.
Then am I here by order of the king?
ALVA.
Yes, through an error of his majesty.
CARLOS.
That gives me pain, indeed. But when the king
Commits an error, 'twould beseem the king,
Methinks, to remedy the fault in person.
I am Don Philip's son--and curious eyes
And slanderous looks are on me. What the king
Hath done from sense of duty ne'er will I
Appear to owe to your considerate favor.
I am prepared to appear before the Cortes,
And will not take my sword from such a hand.
ALVA.
The king will never hesitate to grant
Your highness a request so just. Permit
That I conduct you to him.
CARLOS.
Here I stay
Until the king or all Madrid shall come
To lead me from my prison. Take my answer.
[ALVA withdraws. He is still seen for some time
lingering in the court and giving orders to the guards.
SCENE III.
CARLOS and MARQUIS POSA.
CARLOS (after the departure of the DUKE, full of expectation and
astonishment, to the MARQUIS).
What means all this? Inform me, Roderigo--
Art thou not, then, the minister?
MARQUIS.
I was,
As thou canst well perceive----
[Going to him with great emotion.
O Carlos! Now
I have succeeded--yes--it is accomplished--
'Tis over now--Omnipotence be praised,
To whom I owe success.
CARLOS.
Success! What mean you?
Thy words perplex me.
MARQUIS (takes his hand).
Carlos! thou art saved--
Art free--but I----
[He stops short.
CARLOS.
But thou----
MARQUIS.
Thus to my breast
I press thee now, with friendship's fullest right,
A right I've bought with all I hold most dear.
How great, how lovely, Carlos, is this moment
Of self-approving joy?
CARLOS.
What sudden change
I mark upon thy features! Proudly now
Thy bosom heaves, thine eyes dart vivid fire!
MARQUIS.
We must say farewell, Carlos! Tremble 'not,
But be a man! And what thou more shalt hear,
Promise me, not by unavailing sorrow,
Unworthy of great souls, to aggravate
The pangs of parting. I am lost to thee,
Carlos, for many years--fools say forever.
[CARLOS withdraws his hand, but makes no reply.
Be thou a man: I've reckoned much on thee--
I have not even shunned to pass with thee
This awful hour--which men, in words of fear,
Have termed the final one. I own it, Carlos,
I joy to pass it thus. Come let us sit--
I feel myself grown weary and exhausted.
[He approaches CARLOS, who is in a lifeless stupor, and
allows himself to be involuntarily drawn down by him.
Where art thou? No reply! I must be brief.
Upon the day that followed our last meeting
At the Carthusian monastery the king
Called me before him. What ensued thou knowest,
And all Madrid. Thou hast not heard, however,
Thy secret even then had reached his ears--
That letters in the queen's possession found
Had testified against thee. This I learned
From his own lips--I was his confidant.
[He pauses for CARLOS' answer, but he still
remains silent.
Yes, Carlos, with my lips I broke my faith--
Guided the plot myself that worked thy ruin.
Thy deed spoke trumpet-tongued; to clear thee fully
'Twas now too late: to frustrate his revenge
Was all that now remained for me; and so
I made myself thy enemy to-serve thee
With fuller power--dost thou not hear me, Carlos,
CARLOS.
Go on! go on! I hear thee.
MARQUIS.
To this point
I'm guiltless. But the unaccustomed beams
Of royal favor dazzled me. The rumor,
As I had well foreseen, soon reached thine ears
But by mistaken delicacy led,
And blinded by my vain desire to end
My enterprise alone, I kept concealed
From friendship's ear my hazardous design.
This was my fatal error! Here I failed!
I know it. My self-confidence was madness.
Pardon that confidence--'twas founded, Carlos,
Upon our friendship's everlasting base.
[He pauses. CARLOS passes from torpid silence to
violent agitation.
That which I feared befell. Unreal dangers
Alarmed your mind. The bleeding queen--the tumult
Within the palace--Lerma's interference--
And, last of all, my own mysterious silence,
Conspired to overwhelm thy heart with wonder.
Thou wavered'st, thought'st me lost; but far too noble
To doubt thy friend's integrity, thy soul
Clothed his defection with a robe of honor,
Nor judged him faithless till it found a motive
To screen and justify his breach of faith.
Forsaken by thy only friend--'twas then
Thou sought'st the arms of Princess Eboli--
A demon's arms! 'Twas she betrayed thee, Carlos!
I saw thee fly to her--a dire foreboding
Struck on my heart--I followed thee too late!
Already wert thou prostrate at her feet,
The dread avowal had escaped thy lips--
No way was left to save thee.
CARLOS.
No! her heart
Was moved, thou dost mistake, her heart was moved.
MARQUIS.
Night overspread my mind. No remedy,
No refuge, no retreat was left to me
In nature's boundless compass. Blind despair
Transformed me to a fury--to a tiger--
I raised my dagger to a woman's breast.
But in that moment--in that dreadful moment--
A radiant sunbeam fell upon my soul.
"Could I mislead the king! Could I succeed
In making him think me the criminal!
However improbable, the very guilt
Will be enough to win the king's belief.
I'll dare the task--a sudden thunderbolt
May make the tyrant start--what want I further?
He stops to think, and Carlos thus gains time
To fly to Brussels."
CARLOS.
And hast thou done this?
MARQUIS.
I have despatched a letter to Prince William,
Saying I loved the queen, and had escaped
The king's mistrust in the unjust suspicion
Which falsely fell on thee--that I had found
Means, through the monarch's favor, to obtain
Free access to the queen. I added, further,
That I was fearful of discovery--
That thou hadst learned my secret, and hadst sped
To Princess Eboli, with hopes through her
To warn the queen--that I had made thee prisoner--
And now that all seemed lost, I had resolved
To fly to Brussels. This same letter I----
CARLOS (interrupts him, terrified).
Hast surely not intrusted to the post!
Thou knowest that letters to Brabant and Flanders----
MARQUIS.
Are given to the king; and as things go
Taxis would seem to have discharged his duty.
CARLOS.
Heavens! then I'm lost.
MARQUIS.
How lost? What meanest thou?
CARLOS.
And thou, alas! art lost together with me--
This dreadful fraud my father ne'er will pardon.
MARQUIS.
This fraud! Thou'rt mad! Who will disclose it to him?
CARLOS (regards him with a fixed look).
Who! Dost thou ask? I will myself.
MARQUIS.
Thou ravest!
Stand back----
CARLOS.
Away! For heaven's sake hold me not.
While I stay here, he's hiring the assassins.
MARQUIS.
Then is our time more precious--and we still
Have much to say.
CARLOS.
What! Before all is finished?
[He makes another effort to go. The MARQUIS holds him
by the arm, and looks at him impressively.
MARQUIS.
Carlos! was I so scrupulous--so eager--
When thou, a boy, didst shed thy blood for me?
CARLOS (with emotion, and full of admiration).
Kind Providence!
MARQUIS.
Reserve thyself for Flanders!
The kingdom is thy destiny--'tis mine
To give my life for thee.
CARLOS (takes his hand with deep sensibility).
No, no! he will not,
Cannot resist a virtue so sublime.
I will conduct thee to him, and together,
Arm linked in arm, will we appear before him.
Then thus will I address him: "Father, see,
This is the way a friend acts towards his friend."
Trust me, 'twill move him--it will touch his heart.
He's not without humanity,--my father.
Yes, it will move him. With hot tears, his eyes
Will overflow--and he will pardon us.
[A shot is fired through the iron grating. CARLOS leaps up.
Whom was that meant for?
MARQUIS (sinking down).
I believe--for me.
CARLOS (falling to the earth with a loud cry of grief).
O God of mercy!
MARQUIS.
He is quick--the king.
I had hoped--a little longer--Carlos--think
Of means of flight--dost hear me?--of thy flight.
Thy mother--knows it all--I can no more.
[Dies.
[CARLOS remains by the corpse, like one bereft of life.
After some time the KING enters, accompanied by many GRANDEES;
and starts, panic-struck, at the sight. A general and deep
silence. The GRANDEES range themselves in a semi-circle round
them both, and regard the KING and his SON alternately. The
latter continues without any sign of life. The KING regards
him in thoughtful silence.
SCENE IV.
The KING, CARLOS, the DUKESS ALVA, FERIA, and MEDINA SIDONIA,
PRINCE OF PARMA, COUNT LERMA, DOMINGO, and numerous GRANDEES.
KING (in a gentle tone).
Thy prayer hath met a gracious hearing, prince,
And here I come, with all the noble peers
Of this my court, to bring thee liberty.
[CARLOS raises his eyes and looks around him like one awakened
from a dream. His eyes are fixed now on the KING, now on the
corpse; he gives no answer.
Receive thy sword again. We've been too rash!
[He approaches him, holds out his hand, and assists him to rise.
My son's not in his place; Carlos, arise!
Come to thy father's arms! His love awaits thee.
CARLOS (receives the embrace of the KING without any consciousness.
Suddenly recollects himself, pauses and looks fixedly at him).
Thou smell'st of blood--no, I cannot embrace thee!
[Pushes his father back. All the GRANDEES are in commotion.
CARLOS to them:--
Nay, stand not there confounded and amazed!--
What monstrous action have I done? Defiled
The anointed of the Lord! Oh, fear me not,
I would not lay a hand on him. Behold,
Stamped on his forehead is the damning brand!
The hand of God hath marked him!
KING (about to go quickly).
Nobles! follow.
CARLOS.
Whither? You stir not from this spot.
[Detaining the KING forcibly with both hands, while with one
he manages to seize the sword which the KING has brought with
him, and it comes from the scabbard.
KING.
What! Draw
A sword upon thy father?
ALL THE GRANDEES (drawing their swords).
Regicide!
CARLOS (holding the KING firmly with one hand, the naked sword
in the other).
Put up your swords! What! Think you I am mad?
I am not so: or you were much to blame
Thus to remind me, that upon the point
Of this my sword, his trembling life doth hover.
I pray you, stand aloof; for souls like mine
Need soothing. There--hold back! And with the king
What I have yet to settle touches not
Your loyalty. See there--his hand is bloody!
Do you not see it? And now look you here!
[Pointing to the corpse.
This hath he done with a well-practised hand.
KING (to the GRANDEES, who press anxiously around him).
Retire! Why do you tremble? Are we not
Father and son? I will yet wait and see
To what atrocious crime his nature----
CARLOS.
Nature
I know her not. Murder is now the word!
The bonds of all humanity are severed,
Thine own hands have dissolved them through the realm.
Shall I respect a tie which thou hast scorned?
Oh, see! see here! the foulest deed of blood
That e'er the world beheld. Is there no God
That kings, in his creation, work such havoc?
Is there no God, I ask? Since mother's wombs
Bore children, one alone--and only one--
So guiltlessly hath died. And art thou sensible
What thou hast done? Oh, no! he knows it not:
Knows not that he has robbed--despoiled the world
Of a more noble, precious, dearer life
Than he and all his century can boast.
KING (with a tone of softness).
If I have been too hasty, Carlos--thou
For whom I have thus acted, should at least
Not call me to account.
CARLOS.
Is't possible!
Did you then never guess how dear to me
Was he who here lies dead? Thou lifeless corpse!
Instruct him--aid his wisdom, to resolve
This dark enigma now. He was my friend.
And would you know why he has perished thus?
He gave his life for me.
KING.
Ha? my suspicions!
CARLOS.
Pardon, thou bleeding corpse, that I profane
Thy virtue to such ears. But let him blush
With deep-felt shame, the crafty politician,
That his gray-headed wisdom was o'erreached,
E'en by the judgment of a youth. Yes, sire,
We two were brothers! Bound by nobler bands
Than nature ties. His whole life's bright career
Was love. His noble death was love for me.
E'en in the moment when his brief esteem
Exalted you, he was my own. And when
With fascinating tongue he sported with
Your haughty, giant mind, 'twas your conceit
To bridle him; but you became yourself
The pliant tool of his exalted plans.
That I became a prisoner, my arrest,
Was his deep friendship's meditated work.
That letter to Prince William was designed
To save my life. It was the first deceit
He ever practised. To insure my safety
He rushed on death himself, and nobly perished.
You lavished on him all your favor; yet
For me he died. Your heart, your confidence,
You forced upon him. As a toy he held
Your sceptre and your power; he cast them from him,
And gave his life for me.
[The KING stands motionless, with eyes fixed on the ground;
all the GRANDEES regard him with surprise and alarm.
How could it be
That you gave credit to this strange deceit?
Meanly indeed he valued you, to try
By such coarse artifice to win his ends.
You dared to court his friendship, but gave way
Before a test so simple. Oh, no! never
For souls like yours was such a being formed.
That well he knew himself, when he rejected
Your crowns, your gifts, your greatness, and yourself.
This fine-toned lyre broke in your iron hand,
And you could do no more than murder him.
ALVA (never having taken his eyes from the KING, and observing his
emotion with uneasiness, approaches him with apprehension).
Keep not this deathlike silence, sire. Look round,
And speak at least to us.
CARLOS.
Once you were not
Indifferent to him. And deeply once
You occupied his thoughts. It might have been
His lot to make you happy. His full heart
Might have enriched you; with its mere abundance
An atom of his soul had been enough
To make a god of you. You've robbed yourself--
Plundered yourself and me. What could you give,
To raise again a spirit like to this?
[Deep silence. Many of the GRANDEES turn away, or conceal
their faces in their mantles.
Oh, ye who stand around with terror dumb,
And mute surprise, do not condemn the youth
Who holds this language to the king, his father.
Look on this corpse. Behold! for me he died.
If ye have tears--if in your veins flow blood,
Not molten brass, look here, and blame me not.
[He turns to the KING with more self-possession and calmness.
Doubtless you wait the end of this rude scene?
Here is my sword, for you are still my king.
Think not I fear your vengeance. Murder me,
As you have murdered this most noble man.
My life is forfeit; that I know full well.
But what is life to me? I here renounce
All that this world can offer to my hopes.
Seek among strangers for a son. Here lies
My kingdom.
[He sinks down on the corpse, and takes no part in what follows.
A confused tumult and the noise of a crowd is heard in the distance.
All is deep silence round the KING. His eyes scan the circle over,
but no one returns his looks.
KING.
What! Will no one make reply?
Each eye upon the ground, each look abashed!
My sentence is pronounced. I read it here
Proclaimed in all this lifeless, mute demeanor.
My vassals have condemned me.
[Silence as before. The tumult grows louder. A murmur is heard
among the GRANDEES. They exchange embarrassed looks. COUNT LERMA
at length gently touches ALVA.
LERMA.
Here's rebellion!
ALVA (in a low voice).
I fear it.
LERMA.
It approaches! They are coming!
SCENE V.
An officer of the Body Guard. The former.
OFFICER (urgently).
Rebellion! Where's the king?
[He makes his way through the crowd up to the KING.
Madrid's in arms!
To thousands swelled, the soldiery and people
Surround the palace; and reports are spread
That Carlos is a prisoner--that his life
Is threatened. And the mob demand to see
Him living, or Madrid will be in flames.
THE GRANDEES (with excitement).
Defend the king!
ALVA (to the KING, who remains quiet and unmoved).
Fly, sire! your life's in danger.
As yet we know not who has armed the people.
KING (rousing from his stupor, and advancing with dignity among then).
Stands my throne firm, and am I sovereign yet
Over this empire? No! I'm king no more.
These cowards weep--moved by a puny boy.
They only wait the signal to desert me.
I am betrayed by rebels!
ALVA.
Dreadful thought!
KING.
There! fling yourselves before him--down before
The young, the expectant king; I'm nothing now
But a forsaken, old, defenceless man!
ALVA.
Spaniards! is't come to this?
[All crowd round the KING, and fall on their knees before
him with drawn swords. CARLOS remains alone with the corpse,
deserted by all.
KING (tearing off his mantle and throwing it from him).
There! clothe him now
With this my royal mantle; and on high
Bear him in triumph o'er my trampled corpse!
[He falls senseless in ALVA's and LERMA's arms.
LERMA.
For heaven's sake, help!
FERIA.
Oh, sad, disastrous chance!
LERMA.
He faints!
ALVA (leaves the KING in LERMA's and FERIA's hands).
Attend his majesty! whilst I
Make it my aim to tranquillize Madrid.
[Exit ALVA. The KING is borne off, attended by all the grandees.
SCENE VI.
CARLOS remains behind with the corpse. After a few moments Louis
MERCADO appears, looks cautiously round him, and stands a long time
silent behind the PRINCE, who does not observe him.
MERCADO.
I come, prince, from her majesty the queen.
[CARLOS turns away and makes no reply.
My name, Mercado, I'm the queen's physician
See my credentials.
[Shows the PRINCE a signet ring. CARLOS remains still silent.
And the queen desires
To speak with you to-day--on weighty business.
CARLOS.
Nothing is weighty in this world to me.
MERCADO.
A charge the Marquis Posa left with her.
CARLOS (looking up quickly).
Indeed! I come this instant.
MERCADO.
No, not yet,
Most gracious prince! you must delay till night.
Each avenue is watched, the guards are doubled
You ne'er could reach the palace unperceived;
You would endanger everything.
CARLOS.
And yet----
MERCADO.
I know one means alone that can avail us.
'Tis the queen's thought, and she suggests it to you;
But it is bold, adventurous, and strange!
CARLOS.
What is it?
MERCADO.
A report has long prevailed
That in the secret vaults, beneath the palace,
At midnight, shrouded in a monk's attire,
The emperor's departed spirit walks.
The people still give credit to the tale,
And the guards watch the post with inward terror.
Now, if you but determine to assume
This dress, you may pass freely through the guards,
Until you reach the chamber of the queen,
Which this small key will open. Your attire
Will save you from attack. But on the spot,
Prince! your decision must be made at once.
The requisite apparel and the mask
Are ready in your chamber. I must haste
And take the queen your answer.
CARLOS.
And the hour?
MERCADO.
It is midnight.
CARLOS.
Then inform her I will come.
[Exit MERCADO.
SCENE VII.
CARLOS and COUNT LERMA.
LERMA.
Save yourself, prince! The king's enraged against you.
Your liberty, if not your life's in danger!
Ask me no further--I have stolen away
To give you warning--fly this very instant!
CARLOS.
Heaven will protect me!
LERMA.
As the queen observed
To me, this moment, you must leave Madrid
This very day, and fly to Brussels, prince.
Postpone it not, I pray you. The commotion
Favors your flight. The queen, with this design,
Has raised it. No one will presume so far
As to lay hand on you. Swift steeds await you
At the Carthusian convent, and behold,
Here are your weapons, should you be attacked.
[LERMA gives him a dagger and pistols.
CARLOS.
Thanks, thanks, Count Lerma!
LERMA.
This day's sad event
Has moved my inmost soul! No faithful friend
Will ever love like him. No patriot breathes
But weeps for you. More now I dare not say.
CARLOS.
Count Lerma! he who's gone considered you
A man of honor.
LERMA.
Farewell, prince, again!
Success attend you! Happier times will come--
But I shall be no more. Receive my homage!
[Falls on one knee.
CARLOS (endeavors to prevent him, with much emotion).
Not so--not so, count! I am too much moved--
I would not be unmanned!
LERMA (kissing his hand with feeling).
My children's king!
To die for you will be their privilege!
It is not mine, alas! But in those children
Remember me! Return in peace to Spain.
May you on Philip's throne feel as a man,
For you have learned to suffer! Undertake
No bloody deed against your father, prince!
Philip compelled his father to yield up
The throne to him; and this same Philip now
Trembles at his own son. Think, prince, of that
And may Heaven prosper and direct your path!
[Exit quickly. CARLOS about to hasten away by another side,
but turns rapidly round, and throws himself down before the copse,
which he again folds in his arms. He then hurries from the room.
SCENE VIII.
The KING's Antechamber.
DUKE ALVA and DUKE FERIA enter in conversation.
ALVA.
The town is quieted. How is the king?
FERIA.
In the most fearful state. Within his chamber
He is shut up, and whatso'er may happen
He will admit no person to his presence.
The treason of the marquis has at once
Changed his whole nature. We no longer know him.
ALVA.
I must go to him, nor respect his feelings.
A great discovery which I have made----
FERIA.
A new discovery!
ALVA.
A Carthusian monk
My guards observed, with stealthy footsteps, creep
Into the prince's chamber, and inquire
With anxious curiosity, about
The Marquis Posa's death. They seized him straight,
And questioned him. Urged by the fear of death,
He made confession that he bore about him
Papers of high importance, which the marquis
Enjoined him to deliver to the prince,
If, before sunset, he should not return.
FERIA.
Well, and what further?
ALVA.
These same letters state
That Carlos from Madrid must fly before
The morning dawn.
FERIA.
Indeed!
ALVA.
And that a ship at Cadiz lies
Ready for sea, to carry him to Flushing.
And that the Netherlands but wait his presence,
To shake the Spanish fetters from their arms.
FERIA.
Can this be true?
ALVA.
And other letters say
A fleet of Soliman's will sail for Rhodes,
According to the treaty, to attack
The Spanish squadron in the Midland seas.
FERIA.
Impossible.
ALVA.
And hence I understand
The object of the journeys, which of late
The marquis made through Europe. 'Twas no less
Than to rouse all the northern powers to arms
In aid of Flanders' freedom.
FERIA.
Was it so?
ALVA.
There is besides appended to these letters
The full concerted plan of all the war
Which is to disunite from Spain's control
The Netherlands forever. Naught omitted;
The power and opposition close compared;
All the resources accurately noted,
Together with the maxims to be followed,
And all the treaties which they should conclude.
The plan is fiendish, but 'tis no less splendid.
FERIA.
The deep, designing traitor!
ALVA.
And, moreover,
There is allusion made, in these same letters,
To some mysterious conference the prince
Must with his mother hold upon the eve
Preceding his departure.
FERIA.
That must be
This very day.
ALVA.
At midnight. But for this
I have already taken proper steps.
You see the case is pressing. Not a moment
Is to be lost. Open the monarch's chamber.
FERIA.
Impossible! All entrance is forbidden.
ALVA.
I'll open then myself; the increasing danger
Must justify my boldness.
[As he is on the point of approaching the door it opens,
and the KING comes out.
FERIA.
'Tis himself.
SCENE IX.
The KING. The preceding.
All are alarmed at his appearance, fall back, and let him
pass through them. He appears to be in a waking dream, like a
sleep-walker. His dress and figure indicate the disorder caused
by his late fainting. With slow steps he walks past the GRANDEES
and looks at each with a fixed eye, but without recognizing any of
them. At last he stands still, wrapped in thought, his eyes fixed
on the ground, till the emotions of his mind gradually express
themselves in words.
KING.
Restore me back the dead! Yes, I must have him.
DOMINGO (whispering to ALVA).
Speak to him, duke.
KING.
He died despising me!
Have him again I must, and make him think
More nobly of me.
ALVA (approaching with fear).
Sire!
KING (looking round the circle).
Who speaks to me!
Have you forgotten who I am? Why not
Upon your knees, before your king, ye creatures!
Am I not still your king? I must command
Submission from you. Do you all then slight me
Because one man despised me?
ALVA.
Gracious king!
No more of him: a new and mightier foe
Arises in the bosom of your realm.
FERIA.
Prince Carlos----
KING.
Had a friend who died for him;
For him! With me he might have shared an empire.
How he looked down upon me! From the throne
Kings look not down so proudly. It was plain
How vain his conquest made him. His keen sorrow
Confessed how great his loss. Man weeps not so
For aught that's perishable. Oh, that he might
But live again! I'd give my Indies for it!
Omnipotence! thou bring'st no comfort to me:
Thou canst not stretch thine arm into the grave
To rectify one little act, committed
With hasty rashness, 'gainst the life of man.
The dead return no more. Who dare affirm
That I am happy? In the tomb he dwells,
Who scorned to flatter me. What care I now
For all who live? One spirit, one free being,
And one alone, arose in all this age!
He died despising me!
ALVA.
Our lives are useless!
Spaniards, let's die at once! E'en in the grave
This man still robs us of our monarch's heart.
KING (sits down, and leans his head on his arm).
Oh! had he died for me! I loved him, too,
And much. Dear to me was he as a son.
In his young mind there brightly rose for me
A new and beauteous morning. Who can say
What I had destined for him? He to me
Was a first love. All Europe may condemn me,
Europe may overwhelm me with its curse,
But I deserved his thanks.
DOMINGO.
What spell is this?
KING.
And, say, for whom did he desert me thus?
A boy,--my son? Oh, no, believe it not!
A Posa would not perish for a boy;
The scanty flame of friendship could not fill
A Posa's heart. It beat for human kind.
His passion was the world, and the whole course
Of future generations yet unborn.
To do them service he secured a throne--
And lost it. Such high treason 'gainst mankind
Could Posa e'er forgive himself? Oh, no;
I know his feelings better. Not that he
Carlos preferred to Philip, but the youth--
The tender pupil,--to the aged monarch.
The father's evening sunbeam could not ripen
His novel projects. He reserved for this
The young son's orient rays. Oh, 'tis undoubted,
They wait for my decease.
ALVA.
And of your thoughts,
Read in these letters strongest confirmation.
KING.
'Tis possible he may miscalculate.
I'm still myself. Thanks, Nature, for thy gifts;
I feel within my frame the strength of youth;
I'll turn their schemes to mockery. His virtue
Shall be an empty dream--his death, a fool's.
His fall shall crush his friend and age together.
We'll test it now--how they can do without me.
The world is still for one short evening mine,
And this same evening will I so employ,
That no reformer yet to cone shall reap
Another harvest, in the waste I'll leave,
For ten long generations after me.
He would have offered me a sacrifice
To his new deity--humanity!
So on humanity I'll take revenge.
And with his puppet I'll at once commence.
[To the DUKE ALVA.
What you have now to tell me of the prince,
Repeat. What tidings do these letters bring?
ALVA.
These letters, sire, contain the last bequest
Of Posa to Prince Carlos.
KING (reads the papers, watched by all present. He then lays them aside
and walks in silence up and down the room).
Summon straight
The cardinal inquisitor; and beg
He will bestow an hour upon the king,
This very night!
TAXIS.
Just on the stroke of two
The horses must be ready and prepared,
At the Carthusian monastery.
ALVA.
Spies
Despatched by me, moreover, have observed
Equipments at the convent for a journey,
On which the prince's arms were recognized.
FERIA.
And it is rumored that large sums are raised
In the queen's name, among the Moorish agents,
Destined for Brussels.
KING.
Where is Carlos?
ALVA.
With Posa's body.
KING.
And there are lights as yet
Within the queen's apartments?
ALVA.
Everything
Is silent there. She has dismissed her maids
Far earlier than as yet has been her custom.
The Duchess of Arcos, who was last with her,
Left her in soundest sleep.
[An officer of the Body Guard enters, takes the DUKE OF FERIA
aside, and whispers to him. The latter, struck with surprise,
turns to DUKE ALVA. The others crowd round him, and a murmuring
noise arises.
FERIA, TAXIS, and DOMINGO (at the same time)
'Tis wonderful!
KING.
What is the matter!
FERIA.
News scarce credible!
DOMINGO.
Two soldiers, who have just returned from duty,
Report--but--oh, the tale's ridiculous!
KING.
What do they say?
ALVA.
They say, in the left wing
Of the queen's palace, that the emperor's ghost
Appeared before them, and with solemn gait
Passed on. This rumor is confirmed by all
The sentinels, who through the whole pavilion
Their watches keep. And they, moreover, add,
The phantom in the queen's apartment vanished.
KING.
And in what shape appeared it?
OFFICER.
In the robes,
The same attire he in Saint Justi wore
For the last time, apparelled as a monk.
KING.
A monk! And did the sentries know his person
Whilst he was yet alive? They could not else
Determine that it was the emperor.
OFFICER.
The sceptre which he bore was evidence
It was the emperor.
DOMINGO.
And the story goes
He often has been seen in this same dress.
KING.
Did no one speak to him?
OFFICER.
No person dared.
The sentries prayed, and let him pass in silence.
KING.
The phantom vanished in the queen's apartments!
OFFICER.
In the queen's antechamber.
[General silence.
KING (turns quickly round).
What say you?
ALVA.
Sire! we are silent.
KING (after some thought, to the OFFICER).
Let my guards be ready
And under arms, and order all approach
To that wing of the palace to be stopped.
I fain would have a word with this same ghost.
[Exit OFFICER. Enter a PAGE.
PAGE.
The cardinal inquisitor.
KING (to all present).
Retire!
[The CARDINAL INQUISITOR, an old man of ninety, and blind, enters,
supported on a staff, and led by two Dominicans. The GRANDEES fall
on their knees as he passes, and touch the hem of his garment. He
gives them his blessing, and they depart.
SCENE X.
The KING and the GRAND INQUISITOR. A long silence.
GRAND INQUISITOR.
Say, do I stand before the king?
KING.
You do.
GRAND INQUISITOR.
I never thought it would be so again!
KING.
I now renew the scenes of early youth,
When Philip sought his sage instructor's counsel.
GRAND INQUISITOR.
Your glorious sire, my pupil, Charles the Fifth,
Nor sought or needed counsel at my hands.
KING.
So much happier he! I, cardinal,
Am guilty of a murder, and no rest----
GRAND INQUISITOR.
What was the reason for this murder?
KING.
'Twas
A fraud unparalleled----
GRAND INQUISITOR.
I know it all.
KING.
What do you know? Through whom, and since what time?
GRAND INQUISITOR.
For years--what you have only learned since sunset.
KING (with astonishment).
You know this man then!
GRAND INQUISITOR.
All his life is noted
From its commencement to its sudden close,
In Santa Casa's holy registers.
KING.
Yet he enjoyed his liberty!
GRAND INQUISITOR.
The chain
With which he struggled, but which held him bound,
Though long, was firm, nor easy to be severed.
KING.
He has already been beyond the kingdom.
GRAND INQUISITOR.
Where'er he travelled I was at his side.
KING (walks backwards and forwards in displeasure).
You knew the hands, then, I had fallen into;
And yet delayed to warn me!
GRAND INQUISITOR.
This rebuke
I pay you back. Why did you not consult us
Before you sought the arms of such a man?
You knew him: one sole glance unmasked him to you.
Why did you rob the office of its victim?
Are we thus trifled with! When majesty
Can stoop to such concealment, and in secret,
Behind our backs, league with our enemies,
What must our fate be then? If one be spared
What plea can justify the fate of thousands?
KING.
But he, no less, has fallen a sacrifice.
GRAND INQUISITOR.
No; he is murdered--basely, foully murdered.
The blood that should so gloriously have flowed
To honor us has stained the assassin's hand.
What claim had you to touch our sacred rights?
He but existed, by our hands to perish.
God gave him to this age's exigence,
To perish, as a terrible example,
And turn high-vaunting reason into shame.
Such was my long-laid plan--behold, destroyed
In one brief hour, the toil of many years.
We are defrauded, and your only gain
Is bloody hands.
KING.
Passion impelled me to it.
Forgive me.
GRAND INQUISITOR.
Passion! And does royal Philip
Thus answer me? Have I alone grown old?
[Shaking his head angrily.
Passion! Make conscience free within your realms,
If you're a slave yourself.
KING.
In things like this
I'm but a novice. Bear in patience with me.
GRAND INQUISITOR.
No, I'm ill pleased with you--to see you thus
Tarnish the bygone glories of your reign.
Where is that Philip, whose unchanging soul,
Fixed as the polar star in heaven above,
Round its own axis still pursued its course?
Is all the memory of preceding years
Forever gone? And did the world become
New moulded when you stretched your hand to him?
Was poison no more poison? Did distinction
'Twixt good and evil, truth and falsehood, vanish?
What then is resolution? What is firmness?
What is the faith of man, if in one weak,
Unguarded hour, the rules of threescore years
Dissolve in air, like woman's fickle favor?
KING.
I looked into his eyes. Oh, pardon me
This weak relapse into mortality.
The world has one less access to your heart;
Your eyes are sunk in night.
GRAND INQUISITOR.
What did this man
Want with you? What new thing could he adduce,
You did not know before? And are you versed
So ill with fanatics and innovators?
Does the reformer's vaunting language sound
So novel to your ears? If the firm edifice
Of your conviction totters to mere words,
Should you not shudder to subscribe the fate
Of many thousand poor, deluded souls
Who mount the flaming pile for nothing worse?
KING.
I sought a human being. These Domingos----
GRAND INQUISITOR.
How! human beings! What are they to you?
Cyphers to count withal--no more! Alas!
And must I now repeat the elements
Of kingly knowledge to my gray-haired pupil?
An earthly god must learn to bear the want
Of what may be denied him. When you whine
For sympathy is not the world your equal?
What rights should you possess above your equals?
KING (throwing himself into a chair).
I'm a mere suffering mortal, that I feel;
And you demand from me, a wretched creature,
What the Creator only can perform.
GRAND INQUISITOR.
No, sire; I am not thus to be deceived.
I see you through. You would escape from us.
The church's heavy chains pressed hard upon you;
You would be free, and claim your independence.
[He pauses. The KING is silent.
We are avenged. Be thankful to the church,
That checks you with the kindness of a mother.
The erring choice you were allowed to make
Has proved your punishment. You stand reproved!
Now you may turn to us again. And know
If I, this day, had not been summoned here,
By Heaven above! before to-morrow's sun,
You would yourself have stood at my tribunal!
KING.
Forbear this language, priest. Restrain thyself.
I'll not endure it from thee. In such tones
No tongue shall speak to me.
GRAND INQUISITOR.
Then why, O king
Call up the ghost of Samuel? I've anointed
Two monarchs to the throne of Spain. I hoped
To leave behind a firm-established work.
I see the fruit of all my life is lost.
Don Philip's hands have shattered what I built.
But tell me, sire, wherefore have I been summoned?
What do I hear? I am not minded, king,
To seek such interviews again.
KING.
But one
One service more--the last--and then in peace
Depart. Let all the past be now forgotten--
Let peace be made between us. We are friends.
GRAND INQUISITOR.
When Philip bends with due humility.
KING (after a pause).
My son is meditating treason.
GRAND INQUISITOR,
Well!
And what do you resolve?
KING.
On all, or nothing.
GRAND INQUISITOR.
What mean you by this all?
KING.
He must escape,
Or die.
GRAND INQUISITOR.
Well, sire! decide.
KING.
And can you not
Establish some new creed to justify
The bloody murder of one's only son?
GRAND INQUISITOR.
To appease eternal justice God's own Son
Expired upon the cross.
KING.
And can you spread
This creed throughout all Europe?
GRAND INQUISITOR.
Ay, as far
As the true cross is worshipped.
KING.
But I sin--
Sin against nature. Canst thou, by thy power,
Silence her mighty voice.
GRAND INQUISITOR.
The voice of nature
Avails not over faith.
KING.
My right to judge
I place within your hands. Can I retrace
The step once taken?
GRAND INQUISITOR.
Give him to me!
KING.
My only son! For whom then have I labored?
GRAND INQUISITOR.
For the grave rather than for liberty!
KING (rising up).
We are agreed. Come with me.
GRAND INQUISITOR.
Monarch! Whither
KING.
From his own father's hands to take the victim.
[Leads him away.
SCENE XI.
Queen's Apartment.
CARLOS. The QUEEN. Afterwards the KING and attendants. CARLOS
in monk's attire, a mask over his face, which he is just taking
off; under his arm a naked sword. It is quite dark. He approaches
a door, which is in the act of opening. The QUEEN comes out in
her night-dress with a lighted candle. CARLOS falls on one knee
before her.
CARLOS.
Elizabeth!
QUEEN (regarding him with silent sorrow).
Do we thus meet again?
CARLOS.
'Tis thus we meet again!
[A silence.
QUEEN (endeavoring to collect herself).
Carlos, arise!
We must not now unnerve each other thus.
The mighty dead will not be honored now
By fruitless tears. Tears are for petty sorrows!
He gave himself for thee! With his dear life
He purchased thine. And shall this precious blood
Flow for a mere delusion of the brain?
Oh, Carlos, I have pledged myself for thee.
On that assurance did he flee from hence
More satisfied. Oh, do not falsify
My word.
CARLOS (with animation)
To him I'll raise a monument
Nobler than ever honored proudest monarch,
And o'er his dust a paradise shall bloom!
QUEEN.
Thus did I hope to find thee! This was still
The mighty purpose of his death. On me
Devolves the last fulfilment of his plans,
And I will now fulfil my solemn oath.
Yet one more legacy your dying friend
Bequeathed to me. I pledged my word to him,
And wherefore should I now conceal it from you?
To me did he resign his Carlos--I
Defy suspicion, and no longer tremble
Before mankind, but will for once assume
The courage of a friend; My heart shall speak.
He called our passion--virtue! I believe him,
And will my heart no longer----
CARLOS.
Hold, O queen!
Long was I sunk in a delusive dream.
I loved, but now I am at last awake
Forgotten be the past. Here are your letters,--
Destroy my own. Fear nothing from my passion,
It is extinct. A brighter flame now burns,
And purifies my being. All my love
Lies buried in the grave. No mortal wish
Finds place within this bosom.
[After a pause, taking her hand.
I have come
To bid farewell to you, and I have learned
There is a higher, greater good, my mother,
Than to call thee mine own. One rapid night
Has winged the tardy progress of my years,
And prematurely ripened me to manhood.
I have no further business in the world,
But to remember him. My harvest now
Is ended.
[He approaches the QUEEN, who conceals her face.
Mother! will you not reply!
QUEEN.
Carlos! regard not these my tears. I cannot
Restrain then. But believe me I admire you.
CARLOS.
Thou wert the only partner of our league
And by this name thou shalt remain to me
The most beloved object in this world.
No other woman can my friendship share,
More than she yesterday could win my love.
But sacred shall the royal widow be,
Should Providence conduct me to the throne.
[The KING, accompanied by the GRAND INQUISITOR,
appears in the background without being observed.
I hasten to leave Spain, and never more
Shall I behold my father in this world.
No more I love him. Nature is extinct
Within this breast. Be you again his wife--
His son's forever lost to him! Return
Back to your course of duty--I must speed
To liberate a people long oppressed
From a fell tyrant's hand. Madrid shall bail
Carlos as king, or ne'er behold him more.
And now a long and last farewell----
[He kisses her.
QUEEN.
Oh, Carlos!
How you exalt me! but I dare not soar
To such a height of greatness:--yet I may
Contemplate now your noble mind with wonder.
CARLOS.
Am I not firm, Elizabeth? I hold thee
Thus in my arms and tremble not. The fear
Of instant death had, yesterday, not torn me
From this dear spot.
[He leaves her.
All that is over now,
And I defy my mortal destinies.
I've held thee in these arms and wavered not.
Hark! Heard you nothing!
[A clock strikes.
QUEEN.
Nothing but the bell
That tolls the moment of our separation.
CARLOS.
Good night, then, mother! And you shall, from Ghent,
Receive a letter, which will first proclaim
Our secret enterprise aloud. I go
To dare King Philip to an open contest.
Henceforth there shall be naught concealed between us!
You need not shun the aspect of the world.
Be this my last deceit.
[About to take up the mask--the KING stands between them.
KING.
It is thy last.
[The QUEEN falls senseless.
CARLOS (hastens to her and supports her in his arms).
Is the queen dead? Great heavens!
KING (coolly and quietly to the GRAND INQUISITOR).
Lord Cardinal!
I've done my part. Go now, and do your own.
[Exit.
DEMETRIUS
By Frederich Schiller
ACT I.
SCENE I.
THE DIET AT CRACOW.
On the rising of the curtain the Polish Diet is discovered, seated
in the great senate hall. On a raised platform, elevated by three
steps, and surmounted by a canopy, is the imperial throne, the
escutcheons of Poland and Lithuania suspended on each side. The KING
seated upon the throne; on his right and left hand his ten royal
officers standing on the platform. Below the platform the BISHOPS,
PALATINES, and CASTELLANS seated on each side of the stage.
Opposite to these stand the Provincial DEPUTIES, in a double line,
uncovered. All armed. The ARCHBISHOP OF GNESEN, as the primate of
the kingdom, is seated next the proscenium; his chaplain behind him,
bearing a golden cross.
ARCHBISHOP OF GNESEN.
Thus then hath this tempestuous Diet been
Conducted safely to a prosperous close;
And king and commons part as cordial friends.
The nobles have consented to disarm,
And straight disband the dangerous Rocoss [1];
Whilst our good king his sacred word has pledged,
That every just complaint shall have redress.
And now that all is peace at home, we may
Look to the things that claim our care abroad.
Is it the will of the most high Estates
That Prince Demetrius, who hath advanced
A claim to Russia's crown, as Ivan's son,
Should at their bar appear, and in the face
Of this august assembly prove his right?
[1] An insurrectionary muster of the nobles.
CASTELLAN OF CRACOW.
Honor and justice both demand he should;
It were unseemly to refuse his prayer.
BISHOP OF WERMELAND.
The documents on which he rests have been
Examined, and are found authentic. We
May give him audience.
SEVERAL DEPUTIES.
Nay! We must, we must!
LEO SAPIEHA.
To hear is to admit his right.
ODOWALSKY.
And not
To hear is to reject his claims unheard.
ARCHBISHOP OF GNESEN.
Is it your will that he have audience?
I ask it for the second time--and third.
IMPERIAL CHANCELLOR.
Let him stand forth before our throne!
SENATORS.
And speak!
DEPUTIES.
Yes, yes! Let him be heard!
[The Imperial GRAND MARSHAL beckons with his baton
to the doorkeeper, who goes out.
LEO SAPIEHA (to the CHANCELLOR).
Write down, my lord,
That here I do protest against this step,
And all that may ensue therefrom, to mar
The peace of Poland's state and Moscow's crown.
[Enters DEMETRIUS. Advances some steps towards the throne,
and makes three bows with his head uncovered, first to the KING,
next to the SENATORS, and then to the DEPUTIES, who all severally
answer with an inclination of the head. He then takes up his
position so as to keep within his eye a great portion of the
assemblage, and yet not to turn his back upon the throne.
ARCHBISHOP OF GNESEN.
Prince Dmitri, son of Ivan! if the pomp
Of this great Diet scare thee, or a sight
So noble and majestic chain thy tongue,
Thou may'st--for this the senate have allowed--
Choose thee a proxy, wheresoe'er thou list,
And do thy mission by another's lips.
DEMETRIUS.
My lord archbishop, I stand here to claim
A kingdom, and the state of royalty.
'Twould ill beseem me should I quake before
A noble people, and its king and senate.
I ne'er have viewed a circle so august,
But the sight swells my heart within my breast
And not appals me. The more worthy ye,
To me ye are more welcome; I can ne'er
Address my claim to nobler auditory.
ARCHBISHOP OF GNESEN.
. . . . The august republic
Is favorably bent. . . . .
DEMETRIUS.
Most puissant king! Most worthy and most potent
Bishops and palatines, and my good lords,
The deputies of the august republic!
It gives me pause and wonder to behold
Myself, Czar Ivan's son, now stand before
The Polish people in their Diet here.
Both realms were sundered by a bloody hate,
And, whilst my father lived, no peace might be.
Yet now hath Heaven so ordered these events,
That I, his blood, who with my nurse's milk
Imbibed the ancestral hate, appear before you
A fugitive, compelled to seek my rights
Even here in Poland's heart. Then, ere I speak,
Forget magnanimously all rancors past,
And that the Czar, whose son I own myself,
Rolled war's red billows to your very homes.
I stand before you, sirs, a prince despoiled.
I ask protection. The oppressed may urge
A sacred claim on every noble breast.
And who in all earth's circuit shall be just,
If not a people great and valiant,--one
In plenitude of power so free, it needs
To render 'count but to itself alone,
And may, unchallenged, lend an open ear
And aiding hand to fair humanity.
ARCHBISHOP OF GNESEN.
You do allege you are Czar Ivan's son;
And truly, nor your bearing nor your speech
Gainsays the lofty title that you urge,
But shows us that you are indeed his son.
And you shall find that the republic bears
A generous spirit. She has never quailed
To Russia in the field! She loves, alike,
To be a noble foe--a cordial friend.
DEMETRIUS.
Ivan Wasilowitch, the mighty Czar
Of Moscow, took five spouses to his bed,
In the long years that spared him to the throne.
The first, a lady of the heroic line
Of Romanoff, bare him Feodor, who reigned
After his father's death. One only son,
Dmitri, the last blossom of his strength,
And a mere infant when his father died,
Was born of Marfa, of Nagori's line.
Czar Feodor, a youth, alike effeminate
In mind and body, left the reins of power
To his chief equerry, Boris Godunow,
Who ruled his master with most crafty skill.
Feodor was childless, and his barren bride
Denied all prospect of an heir. Thus, when
The wily Boiar, by his fawning arts,
Had coiled himself into the people's favor,
His wishes soared as high as to the throne.
Between him and his haughty hopes there stood
A youthful prince, the young Demetrius
Iwanowitsch, who with his mother lived
At Uglitsch, where her widowhood was passed.
Now, when his fatal purpose was matured,
He sent to Uglitsch ruffians, charged to put
The Czarowitsch to death.
One night, when all was hushed, the castle's wing,
Where the young prince, apart from all the rest,
With his attendants lay, was found on fire.
The raging flames ingulfed the pile; the prince
Unseen, unheard, was spirited away,
And all the world lamented him as dead.
All Moscow knows these things to be the truth.
ARCHBISHOP OF GNESEN.
Yes, these are facts familiar to us all.
The rumor ran abroad, both far and near,
That Prince Demetrius perished in the flames
When Uglitsch was destroyed. And, as his death
Raised to the throne the Czar who fills it now,
Fame did not hesitate to charge on him
This murder foul and pitiless. But yet,
His death is not the business now in hand!
This prince is living still! He lives in you!
So runs your plea. Now bring us to the proofs!
Whereby do you attest that you are he?
What are the signs by which you shall be known?
How 'scaped you those were sent to hunt you down
And now, when sixteen years are passed, and you
Well nigh forgot, emerge to light once more?
DEMETRIUS.
'Tis scarce a year since I have known myself;
I lived a secret to myself till then,
Surmising naught of my imperial birth.
I was a monk with monks, close pent within
The cloister's precincts, when I first began
To waken to a consciousness of self.
My impetuous spirit chafed against the bars,
And the high blood of princes began to course
In strange unbidden moods along my veins.
At length I flung the monkish cowl aside,
And fled to Poland, where the noble Prince
Of Sendomir, the generous, the good,
Took me as guest into his princely house,
And trained me up to noble deeds of arms.
ARCHBISHOP OF GNESEN.
How? You still ignorant of what you were?
Yet ran the rumor then on every side,
That Prince Demetrius was still alive.
Czar Boris trembled on his throne, and sent
His sassafs to the frontiers, to keep
Sharp watch on every traveller that stirred.
Had not the tale its origin with you?
Did you not give the rumor birth yourself?
Had you not named to any that you were
Demetrius?
DEMETRIUS.
I relate that which I know.
If a report went forth I was alive,
Then had some god been busy with the fame.
Myself I knew not. In the prince's house,
And in the throng of his retainers lost,
I spent the pleasant springtime of my youth.
In silent homage
My heart was vowed to his most lovely daughter.
Yet in those days it never dreamed to raise
Its wildest thoughts to happiness so high.
My passion gave offence to her betrothed,
The Castellan of Lemberg. He with taunts
Chafed me, and in the blindness of his rage
Forgot himself so wholly as to strike me.
Thus savagely provoked, I drew my sword;
He, blind with fury, rushed upon the blade,
And perished there by my unwitting hand.
MEISCHEK.
Yes, it was even so.
DEMETRIUS.
Mine was the worst mischance! A nameless youth,
A Russian and a stranger, I had slain
A grandee of the empire--in the house
Of my kind patron done a deed of blood,
And sent to death his son-in-law and friend.
My innocence availed not; not the pity
Of all his household, nor his kindness--his,
The noble Palatine's,--could save my life;
For it was forfeit to the law, that is,
Though lenient to the Poles, to strangers stern.
Judgment was passed on me--that judgment death.
I knelt upon the scaffold, by the block;
To the fell headsman's sword I bared my throat,
And in the act disclosed a cross of gold,
Studded with precious gems, which had been hung
About my neck at the baptismal font.
This sacred pledge of Christian redemption
I had, as is the custom of my people,
Worn on my neck concealed, where'er I went,
From my first hours of infancy; and now,
When from sweet life I was compelled to part,
I grasped it as my only stay, and pressed it
With passionate devotion to my lips.
[The Poles intimate their sympathy by dumb show.
The jewel was observed; its sheen and worth
Awakened curiosity and wonder.
They set me free, and questioned me; yet still
I could not call to memory a time
I had not worn the jewel on my person.
Now it so happened that three Boiars who
Had fled from the resentment of their Czar
Were on a visit to my lord at Sambor.
They saw the trinket,--recognized it by
Nine emeralds alternately inlaid
With amethysts, to be the very cross
Which Ivan Westislowsky at the font
Hung on the neck of the Czar's youngest son.
They scrutinized me closer, and were struck
To find me marked with one of nature's freaks,
For my right arm is shorter than my left.
Now, being closely plied with questions, I
Bethought me of a little psalter which
I carried from the cloister when I fled.
Within this book were certain words in Greek
Inscribed there by the Igumen himself.
What they imported was unknown to me,
Being ignorant of the language. Well, the psalter
Was sent for, brought, and the inscription read.
It bore that Brother Wasili Philaret
(Such was my cloister-name), who owned the book,
Was Prince Demetrius, Ivan's youngest son,
By Andrei, an honest Diak, saved
By stealth in that red night of massacre.
Proofs of the fact lay carefully preserved
Within two convents, which were pointed out.
On this the Boiars at my feet fell down,
Won by the force of these resistless proofs,
And hailed me as the offspring of their Czar.
So from the yawning gulfs of black despair
Fate raised me up to fortune's topmost heights.
And now the mists cleared off, and all at once
Memories on memories started into life
In the remotest background of the past.
And like some city's spires that gleam afar
In golden sunshine when naught else is seen,
So in my soul two images grew bright,
The loftiest sun-peaks in the shadowy past.
I saw myself escaping one dark night,
And a red lurid flame light up the gloom
Of midnight darkness as I looked behind me
A memory 'twas of very earliest youth,
For what preceded or came after it
In the long distance utterly was lost.
In solitary brightness there it stood
A ghastly beacon-light on memory's waste.
Yet I remembered how, in later years,
One of my comrades called me, in his wrath
Son of the Czar. I took it as a jest,
And with a blow avenged it at the time.
All this now flashed like lightning on my soul,
And told with dazzling certainty that I
Was the Czar's son, so long reputed dead.
With this one word the clouds that had perplexed
My strange and troubled life were cleared away.
Nor merely by these signs, for such deceive;
But in my soul, in my proud, throbbing heart
I felt within me coursed the blood of kings;
And sooner will I drain it drop by drop
Than bate one jot my title to the crown.
ARCHBISHOP OF GNESEN.
And shall we trust a scroll which might have found
Its way by merest chance into your hands
Backed by the tale of some poor renegades?
Forgive me, noble youth! Your tone, I grant,
And bearing, are not those of one who lies;
Still you in this may be yourself deceived.
Well may the heart be pardoned that beguiles
Itself in playing for so high a stake.
What hostage do you tender for your word?
DEMETRIUS.
I tender fifty, who will give their oaths,--
All Piasts to a man, and free-born Poles
Of spotless reputation,--each of whom
Is ready to enforce what I have urged.
There sits the noble Prince of Sendomir,
And at his side the Castellan of Lublin;
Let them declare if I have spoke the truth.
ARCHBISHOP OF GNESEN.
How seem these things to the august Estates?
To the enforcement of such numerous proofs
Doubt and mistrust, methinks, must needs give way.
Long has a creeping rumor filled the world
That Dmitri, Ivan's son, is still alive.
The Czar himself confirms it by his fears.
--Before us stands a youth, in age and mien
Even to the very freak that nature played,
The lost heir's counterpart, and of a soul
Whose noble stamp keeps rank with his high claims.
He left a cloister's precincts, urged by strange,
Mysterious promptings; and this monk-trained boy
Was straight distinguished for his knightly feats.
He shows a trinket which the Czarowitsch
Once wore, and one that never left his side;
A written witness, too, by pious hands,
Gives us assurance of his princely birth;
And, stronger still, from his unvarnished speech
And open brow truth makes his best appeal.
Such traits as these deceit doth never don;
It masks its subtle soul in vaunting words,
And in the high-glossed ornaments of speech.
No longer, then, can I withhold the title
Which he with circumstance and justice claims
And, in the exercise of my old right,
I now, as primate, give him the first voice.
ARCHBISHOP OF LEMBERG.
My voice goes with the primate's.
SEVERAL VOICES.
So does mine.
SEVERAL PALATINES.
And mine!
ODOWALSKY.
And mine.
DEPUTIES.
And all!
SAPIEHA.
My gracious sirs!
Weigh well ere you decide! Be not so hasty!
It is not meet the council of the realm
Be hurried on to----
ODOWALSKY.
There is nothing here
For us to weigh; all has been fully weighed.
The proofs demonstrate incontestably.
This is not Moscow, sirs! No despot here
Keeps our free souls in manacles. Here truth
May walk by day or night with brow erect.
I will not think, my lords, in Cracow here,
Here in the very Diet of the Poles,
That Moscow's Czar should have obsequious slaves.
DEMETRIUS.
Oh, take my thanks, ye reverend senators!
That ye have lent your credence to these proofs;
And if I be indeed the man whom I
Protest myself, oh, then, endure not this
Audacious robber should usurp my seat,
Or longer desecrate that sceptre which
To me, as the true Czarowitsch, belongs.
Yes, justice lies with me,--you have the power.
'Tis the most dear concern of every state
And throne, that right should everywhere prevail,
And all men in the world possess their own.
For there, where justice holds uncumbered sway,
There each enjoys his heritage secure,
And over every house and every throne
Law, truth, and order keep their angel watch.
It is the key-stone of the world's wide arch,
The one sustaining and sustained by all,
Which, if it fail, brings all in ruin down.
(Answers of SENATORS giving assent to DEMETRIUS.)
DEMETRIUS.
Oh, look on me, renowned Sigismund!
Great king, on thine own bosom turn thine eyes.
And in my destiny behold thine own.
Thou, too, hast known the rude assaults of fate;
Within a prison camest thou to the world;
Thy earliest glances fell on dungeon walls.
Thou, too, hadst need of friends to set thee free,
And raise thee from a prison to a throne.
These didst thou find. That noble kindness thou
Didst reap from them, oh, testify to me.
And you, ye grave and honored councillors,
Most reverend bishops, pillars of the church,
Ye palatines and castellans of fame,
The moment has arrived, by one high deed,
To reconcile two nations long estranged.
Yours be the glorious boast, that Poland's power
Hath given the Muscovites their Czar, and in
The neighbor who oppressed you as a foe
Secure an ever-grateful friend. And you,
The deputies of the august republic,
Saddle your steeds of fire! Leap to your seats!
To you expand high fortune's golden gates;
I will divide the foeman's spoil with you.
Moscow is rich in plunder; measureless
In gold and gems, the treasures of the Czar;
I can give royal guerdons to my friends,
And I will give them, too. When I, as Czar,
Set foot within the Kremlin, then, I swear,
The poorest of you all, that follows me,
Shall robe himself in velvet and in sables;
With costly pearls his housings shall he deck,
And silver be the metal of least worth,
That he shall shoe his horses' hoofs withal.
[Great commotion among the DEPUTIES. KORELA, Hetman
of the Cossacks, declares himself ready to put himself
at the head of an army.
ODOWALSKY.
How! shall we leave the Cossack to despoil us
At once of glory and of booty both?
We've made a truce with Tartar and with Turk,
And from the Swedish power have naught to fear.
Our martial spirit has been wasting long
In slothful peace; our swords are red with rust.
Up! and invade the kingdom of the Czar,
And win a grateful and true-hearted friend,
Whilst we augment our country's might and glory.
MANY DEPUTIES.
War! War with Moscow!
OTHERS.
Be it so resolved!
On to the votes at once!
SAPIEHA (rises).
Grand marshal, please
To order silence! I desire to speak.
A CROWD OF VOICES.
War! War with Moscow!
SAPIEHA.
Nay, I will be heard.
Ho, marshal, do your duty!
[Great tumult within and outside the hall.
GRAND MARSHAL.
'Tis, you see,
Quite fruitless.
SAPIEHA.
What? The marshal's self suborned?
Is this our Diet, then, no longer free?
Throw down your staff, and bid this brawling cease;
I charge you, on your office, to obey!
[The GRAND MARSHAL casts his baton into the centre
of the hall; the tumult abates.
What whirling thoughts, what mad resolves are these?
Stand we not now at peace with Moscow's Czar?
Myself, as your imperial envoy, made
A treaty to endure for twenty years;
I raised this right hand, that you see, aloft
In solemn pledge, within the Kremlin's walls;
And fairly hath the Czar maintained his word.
What is sworn faith? what compacts, treaties, when
A solemn Diet tramples on them all?
DEMETRIUS.
Prince Leo Sapieha! You concluded
A bond of peace, you say, with Moscow's Czar?
That did you not; for I, I am that Czar.
In me is Moscow's majesty; I am
The son of Ivan, and his rightful heir.
Would the Poles treat with Russia for a peace,
Then must they treat with me! Your compact's null,
As being made with one whose's title's null.
ODOWALSKY.
What reck we of your treaty? So we willed
When it was made--our wills are changed to-day.
SAPIEHA.
Is it, then, come to this? If none beside
Will stand for justice, then, at least, will I.
I'll rend the woof of cunning into shreds,
And lay its falsehoods open to the day.
Most reverend primate! art thou, canst thou be
So simple-souled, or canst thou so dissemble?
Are ye so credulous, my lords? My liege,
Art thou so weak? Ye know not--will not know,
Ye are the puppets of the wily Waywode
Of Sendomir, who reared this spurious Czar,
Whose measureless ambition, while we speak,
Clutches in thought the spoils of Moscow's wealth.
Is't left for me to tell you that even now
The league is made and sworn betwixt the twain,--
The pledge the Waywode's youngest daughter's hand?
And shall our great republic blindly rush
Into the perils of an unjust war,
To aggrandize the Waywode, and to crown
His daughter as the empress of the Czar?
There's not a man he has not bribed and bought.
He means to rule the Diet, well I know;
I see his faction rampant in this hall,
And, as 'twere not enough that he controlled
The Seym Walmy by a majority,
He's girt the Diet with three thousand horse,
And all Cracow is swarming like a hive
With his sworn feudal vassals. Even now
They throng the halls and chambers where we sit,
To hold our liberty of speech in awe.
Yet stirs no fear in my undaunted heart;
And while the blood keeps current in my veins,
I will maintain the freedom of my voice!
Let those who think like men come stand by me
Whilst I have life shall no resolve be passed
That is at war with justice and with reason.
'Twas I that ratified the peace with Moscow,
And I will hazard life to see it kept.
ODOWALSKY.
Give him no further hearing! Take the votes!
[The BISHOP OF CRACOW and WILNA rise, and descend
each to his own side, to collect the votes.
MANY.
War, war with Moscow!
ARCHBISHOP OF GNESEN (to SAPIEHA).
Noble sir, give way!
You see the mass are hostile to your views;
Then do not force a profitless division!
IMPERIAL HIGH CHANCELLOR (descends from the throne to SAPIEHA).
The king entreats you will not press the point,
Sir Waywode, to division in the Diet.
DOORKEEPER (aside to ODOWALSKY).
Keep a bold front, and fearless--summon those
That wait without. All Cracow stands by you.
IMPERIAL GRAND MARSHAL (to SAPIEHA).
Such excellent decrees have passed before;
Oh, cease, and for their sake, so fraught with good,
Unite your voice with the majority!
BISHOP OF CRACOW (has collected the votes on his side).
On this right bench are all unanimous.
SAPIEHA.
And let them to a man! Yet I say no!
I urge my veto--I break up the Diet.
Stay further progress! Null and void fire all
The resolutions passed----
[General commotion; the KING descends from the throne,
the barriers are broken down, and there arises a tumultuous
uproar. DEPUTIES draw their swords, and threaten SAPIEHA
with them. The BISHOPS interpose, and protect him with
their stoles.
Majority?
What is it? The majority is madness;
Reason has still ranked only with the few.
What cares he for the general weal that's poor?
Has the lean beggar choice, or liberty?
To the great lords of earth, that hold the purse,
He must for bread and raiment sell his voice.
'Twere meet that voices should be weighed, not counted.
Sooner or later must the state be wrecked,
Where numbers sway and ignorance decides.
ODOWALSKY.
Hark to the traitor!----
DEPUTIES.
Hew him into shreds!
Down with him!
ARCHBISHOP OF GNESEN (snatches the crucifix out of his chaplain's hand
and interposes).
Peace, peace
Shall native blood be in the Diet shed?
Prince Sapieha! be advised!
[To the BISHOPS.
Bring him away,
And interpose your bosoms as his shield!
Through this side door remove him quietly,
Or the wild mob will tear him limb from limb!
[SAPIEHA, still casting looks of defiance, is forced
away by the BISHOPS, whilst the ARCHBISHOPS OF GNESEN
and LEMBERG keep the DEPUTIES at bay. Amidst violent
tumult and clashing of arms, the hall is emptied of all
but DEMETRIUS, MEISCHEK, ODOWALSKY, and the Hetman of
the Cossacks.
ODOWALSKY.
That point miscarried,--
Yet shall you not lack aid because of this:
If the republic holds the peace with Moscow,
At our own charges we shall push your claims.
KORELA.
Who ever could have dreamed, that he alone
Would hold his ground against the assembled Diet?
MEISCHEK.
The king! the king!
[Enter KING SIGISMUND, attended by the LORD HIGH CHANCELLOR,
the GRAND MARSHAL, and several BISHOPS.
KING.
Let me embrace you, prince!
At length the high republic does you justice;
My heart has done so long, and many a day.
Your fate doth move me deeply, as, indeed,
What monarch's heart but must be moved by it?
DEMETRIUS.
The past, with all its sorrows, is forgot;
Here on your breast I feel new life begin.
KING.
I love not many words; yet what a king
May offer, who has vassals richer far
Than his poor self, that do I offer you.
You have been witness of an untoward scene,
But deem not ill of Poland's realm because
A tempest jars the vessel of the state.
MEISCHEK.
When winds are wild the steersman backs his helm,
And makes for port with all the speed he may.
KING.
The Diet is dissolved. Although I wished,
I could not break the treaty with the Czar.
But you have powerful friends; and if the Pole,
At his own risk, take arms on your behalf,
Or if the Cossack choose to venture war,
They are free men, I cannot say them nay.
MEISCHEK.
The whole Rocoss is under arms already.
Please it but you, my liege, the angry stream
That raved against your sovereignty may turn
Its wrath on Moscow, leaving you unscathed.
KING.
The best of weapons Russia's self will give thee;
Thy surest buckler is the people's heart.
By Russia only Russia will be vanquished.
Even as the Diet heard thee speak to-day,
Speak thou at Moscow to thy subjects, prince.
So chain their hearts, and thou wilt be their king.
In Sweden I by right of birth ascended
The throne of my inheritance in peace;
Yet did I lose the kingdom of my sires
Because my people's hearts were not with me.
Enter MARINA.
MEISCHEK.
My gracious liege, here, kneeling at your feet,
Behold Marina, youngest of my daughters;
The prince of Moscow offers her his heart.
Thou art the stay and pillar of our house,
And only from thy royal hand 'tis meet
That she receive her spouse and sovereign.
[MARINA kneels to the KING.
KING.
Well, if you wish it, cousin, gladly I
Will do the father's office to the Czar.
[To DEMETRIUS, giving him MARINA'S hand.
Thus do I bring you, in this lovely pledge,
High fortune's blooming goddess; and may these
Old eyes be spared to see this gracious pair
Sit in imperial state on Moscow's throne.
MARINA.
My liege, I humbly thank your grace, and shall
Esteem me still your slave where'er I be.
KING.
Rise up, Czaritza! This is not a place
For you, the plighted bridesmaid of the Czar;
For you, the daughter of my foremost Waywode.
You are the youngest of your sisters; yet
Your spirit wings a high and glorious course,
And nobly grasps the top of sovereignty.
DEMETRIUS.
Be thou, great monarch, witness of my oath,
As, prince to prince, I pledge it here to you!
This noble lady's hand I do accept
As fortune's dearest pledge, and swear that, soon
As on my father's throne I take my seat,
I'll lead her home in triumph as my bride,
With all the state that fits a mighty queen.
And, for a dowry, to my bride I give
The principalities Pleskow and Great Neugart,
With all towns, hamlets, and in-dwellers there,
With all the rights and powers of sovereignty,
In absolute possession evermore;
And this, my gift, will I as Czar confirm
In my free city, Moscow. Furthermore,
As compensation to her noble sire
For present charges, I engage to pay
A million ducats, Polish currency.
So help me God, and all his saints, as I
Have truly sworn this oath, and shall fulfil it.
KING.
You will do so; you never will forget
For what you are the noble Waywode's debtor;
Who, for your wishes, perils his sure wealth,
And, for your hopes, a child his heart adores,
A friend so rare is to be rarely prized!
Then when your hopes are crowned forget not ever
The steps by which you mounted to the throne,
Nor with your garments let your heart be changed!
Think, that in Poland first you knew yourself,
That this land gave you birth a second time.
DEMETRIUS.
I have been nurtured in adversity;
And learned to reverence the beauteous bond
Which links mankind with sympathies of love.
KING.
But now you enter on a realm where all--
Use, custom, morals--are untried and strange,
In Poland here reigns freedom absolute;
The king himself, although in pomp supreme,
Must ofttime be the serf of his noblesse;
But there the father's sacred power prevails,
And in the subject finds a passive slave.
DEMETRIUS.
That glorious freedom which surrounds me here
I will transplant into my native land,
And turn these bond-serfs into glad-souled men;
Not o'er the souls of slaves will I bear rule.
KING.
Do naught in haste; but by the time be led!
Prince, ere we part, three lessons take from me,
And truly follow them when thou art king.
It is a king that gives them, old and tried,
And they may prove of profit to thy youth.
DEMETRIUS.
Oh, share thy wisdom with me! Thou hast won
The reverence of a free and mighty people;
What must I do to earn so fair a prize?
KING.
You come from a strange land,
Borne on the weapons of a foreign foe;
This first felt wrong thou hast to wash away.
Then bear thee like a genuine son of Moscow,
With reverence due to all her usages.
Keep promise with the Poles, and value them,
For thou hast need of friends on thy new throne:
The arm that placed thee there can hurl thee down.
Esteem them honorably, yet ape them not;
Strange customs thrive not in a foreign soil.
And, whatsoe'er thou dost, revere thy mother--
You'll find a mother----
DEMETRIUS.
Oh, my liege!
KING.
High claim
Hath she upon thy filial reverence.
Do her all honor. 'Twixt thy subjects and
Thyself she stands, a sacred, precious link.
No human law o'errides the imperial power;
Nothing but nature may command its awe;
Nor can thy people own a surer pledge,
That thou art gentle, than thy filial love.
I say no more. Much yet is to be done,
Ere thou mak'st booty of the golden fleece.
Expect no easy victory!
Czar Boris rules with strong and skilful hand;
You take the field against no common man.
He that by merit hath achieved the throne,
Is not puffed from his seat by popular breath;
His deeds do serve to him for ancestors.
To your good fortune I commend you now;
Already twice, as by a miracle,
Hath it redeemed you from the grasp of death;
'Twill put the finish on its work, and crown you.
[Exeunt omnes but MARINA and ODOWALSKY.
ODOWALSKY.
Say, lady, how have I fulfilled my charge?
Truly and well, and wilt thou laud my zeal?
MARINA.
'Tis, Odowalsky, well we are alone;
Matters of weight have we to canvass which
'Tis meet the prince know nothing of. May he
Pursue the voice divine that goads him on!
If in himself he have belief, the world
Will catch the flame, and give him credence too.
He must be kept in that vague, shadowing mist,
Which is a fruitful mother of great deeds,
While we see clear, and act in certainty.
He lends the name--the inspiration; we
Must bear the brain, the shaping thought, for him;
And when, by art and craft, we have insured
The needful levies, let him still dream on,
And think they dropped, to aid him, from the clouds.
ODOWALSKY.
Give thy commands: I live but for thy service.
Think'st thou this Moscovite or his affairs
Concern my thoughts? 'Tis thou, thou and thy glory
For which I will adventure life and all.
For me no fortune blossoms; friendless, landless,
I dare not let my hopes aspire to thee.
Thy grace I may not win, but I'll deserve it.
To make thee great be my one only aim;
Then, though another should possess thee, still
Thou wilt be mine--being what I have made thee.
MARINA.
Therefore my whole heart do I pledge to thee;
To thee I trust the acting of my thoughts.
The king doth mean us false. I read him through.
'Twas a concerted farce with Sapieha,
A juggle, all! 'Twould please him well, belike,
To see my father's power, which he dreads deeply,
Enfeebled in this enterprise--the league
Of the noblesse, which shook his heart with fear,
Drawn off in this campaign on foreign bounds,
While he himself sits neutral in the fray.
He thinks to share our fortune, if we win;
And if we lose, he hopes with greater ease
To fix on us the bondage of his yoke.
We stand alone. This die is cast. If he
Cares for himself, we shall be selfish too.
You lead the troops to Kioff. There let them swear
Allegiance to the prince, and unto me;--
Mark you, to me! 'Tis needful for our ends.
I want your eye, and not your arm alone.
ODOWALSKY.
Command me--speak--
MARINA.
You lead the Czarowitsch.
Keep your eye on him; stir not from his side,
Render me 'count of every step he makes.
ODOWALSKY.
Rely on me, he'll never cast us off.
MARINA.
No man is grateful. Once his throne is sure,
He'll not be slow to cast our bonds aside.
The Russian hates the Pole--must hate him ever;
No bond of amity can link their hearts.
Enter OPALINSKY, BIELSKY, and several Polish noblemen.
OPALINSKY.
Fair patron, get us gold, and we march with you,
This lengthened Diet has consumed our all.
Let us have gold, we'll make thee Russia's queen.
MARINA.
The Bishop of Kaminieck and Culm
Lends money on the pawn of land and serfs.
Sell, barter, pledge the hamlets of your boors,
Turn all to silver, horses, means of war!
War is the best of chapmen. He transmutes
Iron into gold. Whate'er you now may lose
You'll find in Moscow twenty-fold again.
BIELSKY.
Two hundred more wait in the tavern yonder;
If you will show yourself, and drain a cup
With them, they're yours, all yours--I know them well.
MARINA.
Expect me! You shall introduce me to them.
OPALINSKY.
'Tis plain that you were born to be a queen.
MARINA.
I was, and therefore I must be a queen.
BIELSKY.
Ay, mount the snow-white steed, thine armor on,
And so, a second Vanda, lead thy troops,
Inspired by thee, to certain victory.
MARINA.
My spirit leads you. War is not for women.
The rendezvous is in Kioff. Thither my father
Will lead a levy of three thousand horse.
My sister's husband gives two thousand more,
And the Don sends a Cossack host in aid.
Do you all swear you will be true to me?
ALL.
All, all--we swear! (draw their swords.)
Vivat Marina, Russiae Regina!
[MARINA tears her veil in pieces, and divides it among them.
Exeunt omnes but MARINA.
Enter MEISCHEK.
MARINA.
Wherefore so sad, when fortune smiles on us,
When every step thrives to our utmost wish,
And all around are arming in our cause?
MEISCHEK.
'Tis even because of this, my child! All, all
Is staked upon the cast. Thy father's means
Are in these warlike preparations swamped.
I have much cause to ponder seriously;
Fortune is false, uncertain the result.
Mad, venturous girl, what hast thou brought me to?
What a weak father have I been, that I
Did not withstand thy importunities!
I am the richest Waywode of the empire,
The next in honor to the king. Had we
But been content to be so, and enjoyed
Our stately fortunes with a tranquil soul!
Thy hopes soared higher--not for thee sufficed
The moderate station which thy sisters won.
Thou wouldst attain the loftiest mark that can
By mortals be achieved, and wear a crown.
I, thy fond, foolish father, longed to heap
On thee, my darling one, all glorious gains,
So by thy prayers I let myself be fooled,
And peril my sure fortunes on a chance.
MARINA.
How? My dear father, dost thou rue thy goodness?
Who with the meaner prize can live content,
When o'er his head the noblest courts his grasp?
MEISCHEK.
Thy sisters wear no crowns, yet they are happy.
MARINA.
What happiness is that to leave the home
Of the Waywode, my father, for the house
Of some count palatine, a grateful bride?
What do I gain of new from such a change?
And can I joy in looking to the morrow
When it brings naught but what was stale to-day?
Oh, tasteless round of petty, worn pursuits!
Oh, wearisome monotony of life!
Are they a guerdon for high hopes, high aims?
Or love or greatness I must have: all else
Are unto me alike indifferent.
Smooth off the trouble from thy brow, dear father!
Let's trust the stream that bears us on its breast,
Think not upon the sacrifice thou makest,
Think on the prize, the goal that's to be won--
When thou shalt see thy daughter robed in state,
In regal state, aloft on Moscow's throne,
And thy son's sons the rulers of the world!
MEISCHEK.
I think of naught, see naught, but thee, my child,
Girt with the splendors of the imperial crown.
Thou'rt bent to have it; I cannot gainsay thee.
MARINA.
Yet one request, my dearest, best of fathers,
I pray you grant me!
MEISCHEK.
Name thy wish, my child.
MARINA.
Shall I remain shut up at Sambor with
The fires of boundless longing in my breast?
Beyond the Dnieper will my die be cast,
While boundless space divides me from the spot;
Can I endure it? Oh, the impatient spirit
Will lie upon the rack of expectation
And measure out this monstrous length of space
With groans and anxious throbbings of the heart.
MEISCHEK.
What dost thou wish? What is it thou wouldst have?
MARINA.
Let me abide the issue in Kioff!
There I can gather tidings at their source.
There on the frontier of both kingdoms----
MEISCHEK.
Thy spirit's over-bold. Restrain it, child!
MARINA.
Yes, thou dost yield,--thou'lt take me with thee, then?
MEISCHEK.
Thou rulest me. Must I not do thy will?
MARINA.
My own dear father, when I am Moscow's queen
Kioff, you know, must be our boundary.
Kioff must then be mine, and thou shalt rule it.
MEISCHEK.
Thou dreamest, girl! Already the great Moscow
Is for thy soul too narrow; thou, to grasp
Domains, wilt strip them from thy native land.
MARINA.
Kioff belonged not to our native land;
There the Varegers ruled in days of yore.
I have the ancient chronicles by heart;
'Twas from the Russian empire wrenched by force.
I will restore it to its former crown.
MEISCHEK.
Hush, hush! The Waywode must not hear such talk.
[Trumpet without. They're breaking up.
ACT II.
SCENE I.
A Greek convent in a bleak district near the sea Belozero.
A train of nuns, in black robes and veils, passes over the
back of the stage. MARFA, in a white veil, stands apart
from the others, leaning on a tombstone. OLGA steps out
from the train, remains gazing at her for a time, and then
advances to her.
OLGA.
And does thy heart not urge thee forth with us
To taste reviving nature's opening sweets?
The glad sun comes, the long, long night retires,
The ice melts in the streams, and soon the sledge
Will to the boat give place and summer swallow.
The world awakes once more, and the new joy
Woos all to leave their narrow cloister cells
For the bright air and freshening breath of spring.
And wilt thou only, sunk in lasting grief,
Refuse to share the general exultation?
MARFA.
On with the rest, and leave me to myself!
Let those rejoice who still have power to hope.
The time that puts fresh youth in all the world
Brings naught to me; to me the past is all,
My hopes, my joys are with the things that were.
OLGA.
Dost thou still mourn thy son--still, still lament
The sovereignty which thou has lost? Does time,
Which pours a balm on every wounded heart,
Lose all its potency with thee alone?
Thou wert the empress of this mighty realm,
The mother of a blooming son. He was
Snatched from thee by a dreadful destiny;
Into this dreary convent wert thou thrust,
Here on the verge of habitable earth.
Full sixteen times since that disastrous day
The face of nature hath renewed its youth;
Still have I seen no change come over thine,
That looked a grave amid a blooming world.
Thou'rt like some moonless image, carved in stone
By sculptor's chisel, that doth ever keep
The selfsame fixed unalterable mien.
MARFA.
Yes, time, fell time, hath signed and set me up
As a memorial of my dreadful fate.
I will not be at peace, will not forget.
That soul must be of poor and shallow stamp
Which takes a cure from time--a recompense
For what can never be compensated!
Nothing shall buy my sorrow from me. No,
As heaven's vault still goes with the wanderer,
Girds and environs him with boundless grasp,
Turn where he will, by sea or land, so goes
My anguish with me, wheresoe'er I turn;
It hems me round, like an unbounded sea;
My ceaseless tears have failed to drain its depths.
OLGA.
Oh, see! what news can yonder boy have brought,
The sisters round him throng so eagerly?
He comes from distant shores, where homes abound,
And brings us tidings from the land of men.
The sea is clear, the highways free once more.
Art thou not curious to learn his news?
Though to the world we are as good as dead,
Yet of its changes willingly we hear,
And, safe upon the shore, with wonder mark
The roar and ferment of the trampling waves.
[NUNS come down the stage with a FISHER BOY.
XENIA--HELENA.
Speak, speak, and tell us all the news you bring.
ALEXIA.
Relate what's passing in the world beyond.
FISHER BOY.
Good, pious ladies, give me time to speak!
XENIA.
Is't war--or peace?
ALEXIA.
Who's now upon the throne?
FISHER BOY.
A ship is to Archangel just come in
From the north pole, where everything is ice.
OLGA.
How came a vessel into that wild sea?
FISHER BOY.
It is an English merchantman, and it
Has found a new way out to get to us.
ALEXIA.
What will not man adventure for his gain?
XENIA.
And so the world is nowhere to be barred!
FISHER BOY.
But that's the very smallest of the news.
'Tis something very different moves the world.
ALEXIA.
Oh, speak and tell us!
OLGA.
Say, what has occurred?
FISHER BOY.
We live to hear strange marvels nowadays:
The dead rise up, and come to life again.
OLGA.
Explain yourself.
FISHER BOY.
Prince Dmitri, Ivan's son,
Whom we have mourned for dead these sixteen years,
Is now alive, and has appeared in Poland.
OLGA.
The prince alive?
MARFA (starting).
My son!
OLGA.
Compose thyself!
Calm down thy heart till we have learned the whole.
ALEXIA.
How can this possibly be so, when he
Was killed, and perished in the flames at Uglitsch?
FISHER BOY.
He managed somehow to escape the fire,
And found protection in a monastery.
There he grew up in secrecy, until
His time was come to publish who he was.