Thomas Otway. Thomas Otway

      King. Happy the monarch, on whose brow no cares

       Add weight to the bright diadem he wears;

       Like me, in all that he can wish for, blest.

       Renown and love, the gentlest calms of rest,

       And peace, adorn my brow, enrich my breast.

       To me great nations tributary are;

       Though, whilst my vast dominions spread so far,

       Where most I reign, I must pay homage, here. [To the Queen. Approach, bright mistress of my purest vows: Now show me him that more religion owes To Heaven, or to its altars more devoutly bows.

      Don Car. So merchants, cast upon some savage coast, Are forced to see their dearest treasures lost. Curse! what's obedience? a false notion made By priests, who when they found old cheats decayed, By such new arts kept up declining trade. [Aside. A father! Oh!

      King. Why does my Carlos shroud His joy, and when all's sunshine wear a cloud? My son, thus for thy glory I provide; From this fair charmer, and our royal bride, Shall such a noble race of heroes spring, As may adorn the court when thou art king.

      Don Car. A greater glory I can never know Than what already I enjoy in you. The brightest ornaments of crowns and powers I only can admire, as they are yours.

      King. Heaven! how he stands unmoved! not the least show Of transport.

      Don Car. Not admire your happiness? I do As much admire it as I reverence you. Let me express the mighty joy I feel: Thus, sir, I pay my duty when I kneel. [Kneels to the Queen.

      Queen. How hard it is his passion to confine! I'm sure 'tis so, if I may judge by mine. [Aside. Alas! my lord, you're too obsequious now. [To Don Carlos.

      Don Car. Oh! might I but enjoy this pleasure still, Here would I worship, and for ever kneel.

      Queen. 'Fore Heaven, my lord! you know not what you do.

      King. Still there appears disturbance on his brow; And in his looks an earnestness I read, Which from no common causes can proceed. [Aside. I'll probe him deep. When, when, my dearest joy,

      [To the Queen.

      Shall I the mighty debt of love defray?

       Hence to love's secret temple let's retire,

       There on his altars kindle the amorous fire,

       Then, phœnix-like, each in the flame expire.—

       Still he is fixed. [Looking on Don Carlos.] Gomez, observe the prince.— Yet smile on me, my charming excellence.

      [To the Queen.

      Virgins should only fears and blushes show;

       But you must lay aside that title now.

       The doctrine which I preach, by Heaven, is good:—

       Oh, the impetuous sallies of my blood!

      Queen. To what unwelcome joys I'm forced to yield? Now fate her utmost malice has fulfilled. Carlos, farewell; for since I must submit—

      King. Now, winged with rapture, let us fly, my sweet. My son, all troubles from thy breast resign, And let thy father's happiness be thine.

      [Exeunt King and Queen, Ruy-Gomez, Duchess of Eboli, Henrietta, Garcia, and Attendants.

      Don Car. What king, what god would not his power forego, To enjoy so much divinity below! Didst thou behold her, Posa?

      M. of Posa. Sir, I did.

      Don Car. And is she not a sweet one? Such a bride! O Posa, once she was decreed for mine: Once I had hopes of bliss. Hadst thou but seen How blest, how proud I was if I could get But leave to lie a prostrate at her feet! Even with a look I could my pains beguile; Nay, she in pity too would sometimes smile; Till at the last my vows successful proved, And one day, sighing, she confessed she loved. Oh! then I found no limits to our joy, With eyes thus languishing we looked all day; So vigorous and strong we darted beams, Our meeting glances kindled into flames; Nothing we found that promised not delight: For when rude shades deprived us of the light, As we had gazed all day, we dreamt all night. But, after all these labours undergone, A cruel father thus destroys his son; In their full height my choicest hopes beguiles, And robs me of the fruit of all my toils. My dearest Posa, thou wert ever kind; Bring thy best counsel, and direct my mind.

      Re-enter Ruy-Gomez.

      Ruy-Gom. Still he is here. My lord!

      Don Car. Your business now?

Ruy-Gom. I've with concern beheld your clouded brow. Ah! though you've lost a beauty well might make Your strictest honour and your duty shake, Let not a father's ills[11] misguide your mind, But be obedient, though he has proved unkind.

      Don Car. Hence, cynic, to dull slaves thy morals teach; I have no leisure now to hear thee preach: Still you'll usurp a power o'er my will.

      Ruy-Gom. Sir, you my services interpret ill: Nor need it be so soon forgot that I Have been your guardian from your infancy. When to my charge committed, I alone Instructed you how to expect a crown; Taught you ambition, and war's noblest arts, How to lead armies, and to conquer hearts; Whilst, though but young, You would with pleasure read of sieges got, And smile to hear of bloody battles fought: And, still, though not control, I may advise,

      Don Car. Alas! thy pride wears a too thin disguise: Too well I know the falsehood of thy soul, Which to my father rendered me so foul That hardly as his son a smile I've known, But always as a traitor met his frown. My forward honour was ambition called; Or, if my friends my early fame extolled, You damped my father's smiles still as they sprung, Persuading I repined he lived too long. So all my hopes by you were frustrate made, And, robbed of sunshine, withered in the shade. Whilst, my good patriot! you disposed the crown Out of my reach, to have it in your own. But I'll prevent your policy—

      Ruy-Gom. My lord, This accusation is unjust and hard. The king, your father, would not so upbraid My age: is all my service thus repaid? But I will hence, and let my master hear How generously you reward my care; Who, on my just complaint, I doubt not, will At least redress the injuries I feel. [Exit.

      M. of Posa. Alas! my lord, you too severely urge Your fate; his interest with