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полная версия Don Carlos

Фридрих Шиллер
Don Carlos

SCENE VII

The KING enters from his chamber, attired. The former all uncover and make room on both sides, while they form a semicircle round him. Silence.

KING (rapidly surveying the whole circle)

Be covered, all.

[DON CARLOS and the PRINCE of PARMA approach first and kiss the KING's hand: he turns with friendly mien to the latter, taking no notice of his son.

            Your mother, nephew, fain
   Would be informed what favor you have won
   Here in Madrid.

PARMA

That question let her ask
When I have fought my maiden battle, sire.

KING

Be satisfied; your turn will come at last,
When these old props decay.

[To the DUKE OF FERIA.

What brings you here?

FERIA (kneeling to the KING)

The master, sire, of Calatrava's order
This morning died. I here return his cross.

KING (takes the order and looks round the whole circle)

And who is worthiest after him to wear it?

[He beckons to DUKE ALVA, who approaches and bends on one knee. The KING hangs the order on his neck.

You are my ablest general! Ne'er aspire
To more, and, duke, my favors shall not fail you.

[He perceives the DUKE of MEDINA SIDONIA.

My admiral!

MEDINA SIDONIA

          And here you see, great king,
   All that remains of the Armada's might,
   And of the flower of Spain.

KING (after a pause)

                  God rules above us!
   I sent you to contend with men, and not
   With rocks and storms. You're welcome to Madrid.

[Extending his hand to him to kiss.

   I thank you for preserving in yourself
   A faithful servant to me. For as such
   I value him, my lords; and 'tis my will
   That you should honor him.

[He motions him to rise and cover himself, then turns to the others.

What more remains?

[To DON CARLOS and the PRINCE OF PARMA.

Princes, I thank you.

[They retire; the other GRANDEES approach, and kneeling, hand their papers to the KING. He looks over them rapidly, and hands them to DUKE ALVA.

Duke, let these be laid
Before me in the council. Who waits further?

[No one answers.

   How comes it that amidst my train of nobles
   The Marquis Posa ne'er appears? I know
   This Marquis Posa served me with distinction.
   Does he still live? Why is he not among you?

LERMA

   The chevalier is just returned from travel,
   Completed through all Europe. He is now
   Here in Madrid, and waits a public day
   To cast himself before his sovereign's feet.

ALVA

   The Marquis Posa? Right, he is the same
   Bold Knight of Malta, sire, of whom renown
   Proclaims this gallant deed. Upon a summons
   Of the Grand Master, all the valiant knights
   Assembled in their island, at that time
   Besieged by Soliman. This noble youth,
   Scarce numbering eighteen summers, straightway fled
   From Alcala, where he pursued his studies,
   And suddenly arrived at La Valette.
   "This Cross," he said, "was bought for me; and now
   To prove I'm worthy of it." He was one
   Of forty knights who held St. Elmo's Castle,
   At midday, 'gainst Piali, Ulucciali,
   And Mustapha, and Hassem; the assault
   Being thrice repeated. When the castle fell,
   And all the valiant knights were killed around him,
   He plunged into the ocean, and alone
   Reached La Valette in safety. Two months after
   The foe deserts the island, and the knight
   Returned to end his interrupted studies.

FERIA

   It was the Marquis Posa, too, who crushed
   The dread conspiracy in Catalonia;
   And by his marked activity preserved
   That powerful province to the Spanish crown.

KING

   I am amazed! What sort of man is this
   Who can deserve so highly, yet awake
   No pang of envy in the breasts of three
   Who speak his praise? The character he owns
   Must be of noble stamp indeed, or else
   A very blank. I'm curious to behold
   This wondrous man.

[To DUKE ALVA.

Conduct him to the council
When mass is over.

[Exit DUKE. The KING calls FERIA.

And do you preside
Here in my place.

[Exit.

FERIA

The king is kind to-day.

MEDIA SIDONIA

Call him a god! So he has proved to me!

FERIA

You well deserve your fortune, admiral!
You have my warmest wishes.

ONE OF THE GRANDEES

Sir, and mine.

A SECOND

And also mine.

A THIRD

My heart exults with joy —
So excellent a general!

THE FIRST

The king
Showed you no kindness, 'twas your strict desert.

LERMA (to MEDINA SIDONIA, taking leave)

Oh, how two little words have made your fortune!

[Exeunt all

SCENE VIII

The KING's Cabinet.

MARQUIS POSA and DUKE ALVA.

MARQUIS (as he enters)

   Does he want me? What me? Impossible!
   You must mistake the name. What can he want
   With me?

ALVA

To know you.

MARQUIS

               Curiosity!
   No more; I regret the precious minutes
   That I must lose: time passes swiftly by.

ALVA

   I now commend you to your lucky stars.
   The king is in your hands. Employ this moment
   To your own best advantage; for, remember,
   If it is lost, you are alone to blame.

SCENE IX

The MARQUIS alone.

MARQUIS

   Duke, 'tis well spoken! Turn to good account
   The moment which presents itself but once!
   Truly this courtier reads a useful lesson
   If not in his sense good, at least in mine.
      [Walks a few steps backwards and forwards.
   How came I here? Is it caprice or chance
   That shows me now my image in this mirror?
   Why, out of millions, should it picture me —
   The most unlikely – and present my form
   To the king's memory? Was this but chance?
   Perhaps 'twas something more! – what else is chance
   But the rude stone which from the sculptor's hand
   Receives its life? Chance comes from Providence,
   And man must mould it to his own designs.
   What the king wants with me but little matters;
   I know the business I shall have with him.
   Were but one spark of truth with boldness flung
   Into the despot's soul, how fruitful 'twere
   In the kind hand of Providence; and so
   What first appeared capricious act of chance,
   May be designed for some momentous end.
   Whate'er it be, I'll act on this belief.

[He takes a few turns in the room, and stands at last in tranquil contemplation before a painting. The KING appears in the neighboring room, where he gives some orders. He then enters and stands motionless at the door, and contemplates the MARQUIS for some time without being observed.

SCENE X

The KING, and MARQUIS POSA.

The MARQUIS, as soon as he observes the KING, comes forward and sinks on one knee; then rises and remains standing before him without any sign of confusion.

KING (looks at him with surprise)

We've met before then?

MARQUIS

No.

KING

                  You did my crown
   Some service? Why then do you shun my thanks?
   My memory is thronged with suitor's claims.
   One only is omniscient. 'Twas your duty
   To seek your monarch's eye! Why did you not?

MARQUIS

Two days have scarce elapsed since my return
From foreign travel, sire.

KING

I would not stand
Indebted to a subject; ask some favor —

MARQUIS

I enjoy the laws.

KING

So does the murderer!

MARQUIS

Then how much more the honest citizen!
My lot contents me, sire.

KING (aside)

                 By heavens! a proud
   And dauntless mind! That was to be expected.
   Proud I would have my Spaniards. Better far
   The cup should overflow than not be full.
   They say you've left my service?

MARQUIS

To make way
For some one worthier, I withdrew.

KING

   'Tis pity. When spirits such as yours make holiday,
   The state must suffer. But perchance you feared
   To miss the post best suited to your merits.

MARQUIS

   Oh, no! I doubt not the experienced judge,
   In human nature skilled – his proper study, —
   Will have discovered at a glance wherein
   I may be useful to him, wherein not.
   With deepest gratitude, I feel the favor
   Wherewith, by so exalted an opinion,
   Your majesty is loading me; and yet —

[He pauses.

KING

You hesitate?

MARQUIS

           I am, I must confess,
   Sire, at this moment, unprepared to clothe
   My thoughts, as the world's citizen, in phrase
   Beseeming to your subject. When I left
   The court forever, sire, I deemed myself
   Released from the necessity to give
   My reasons for this step.

KING

Are they so weak?
What do you fear to risk by their disclosure?

MARQUIS

   My life at farthest, sire, – were time allowed
   For me to weary you – but this denied —
   Then truth itself must suffer. I must choose
   'Twixt your displeasure and contempt.
   And if I must decide, I rather would appear
   Worthy of punishment than pity.

KING (with a look of expectation)

Well?

MARQUIS

I cannot be the servant of a prince.

[The KING looks at him with astonishment.

   I will not cheat the buyer. Should you deem
   Me worthy of your service, you prescribe
   A course of duty for me; you command
   My arm in battle and my head in council.
   Then, not my actions, but the applause they meet
   At court becomes their object. But for me
   Virtue possesses an intrinsic worth.
   I would, myself, create that happiness
   A monarch, with my hand, would seek to plant,
   And duty's task would prove an inward joy,
   And be my willing choice. Say, like you this?
   And in your own creation could you hear
   A new creator? For I ne'er could stoop
   To be the chisel where I fain would be —
   The sculptor's self. I dearly love mankind,
   My gracious liege, but in a monarchy
   I dare not love another than myself.

KING

   This ardor is most laudable. You wish
   To do good deeds to others; how you do them
   Is but of small account to patriots,
   Or to the wise. Choose then within these realms
   The office where you best may satisfy
   This noble impulse.

MARQUIS

'Tis not to be found.

KING

How!

MARQUIS

      What your majesty would spread abroad,
   Through these my hands – is it the good of men?
   Is it the happiness that my pure love
   Would to mankind impart? Before such bliss
   Monarchs would tremble. No! Court policy
   Has raised up new enjoyments for mankind.
   Which she is always rich enough to grant;
   And wakened, in the hearts of men, new wishes
   Which such enjoyments only can content.
   In her own mint she coins the truth – such truth!
   As she herself can tolerate: all forms
   Unlike her own are broken. But is that
   Which can content the court enough for me?
   Must my affection for my brother pledge
   Itself to work my brother injury?
   To call him happy when he dare not think?
   Sire, choose not me to spread the happiness
   Which you have stamped for us. I must decline
   To circulate such coin. I cannot be
   The servant of a prince.

KING (suddenly)

You are, perhaps,
A Protestant?

MARQUIS (after some reflection)

Our creeds, my liege, are one.

[A pause.

   I am misunderstood. I feared as much.
   You see the veil torn by my hand aside
   From all the mysteries of majesty.
   Who can assure you I shall still regard
   As sacred that which ceases to alarm me?
   I may seem dangerous, because I think
   Above myself. I am not so, my liege;
   My wishes lie corroding here. The rage

[Laying his hand on his breast.

   For innovation, which but serves to increase
   The heavy weight of chains it cannot break,
   Shall never fire my blood! The world is yet
   Unripe for my ideal; and I live
   A citizen of ages yet to come.
   But does a fancied picture break your rest?
   A breach of yours destroys it.

KING

Say, am I
The first to whom your views are known?

MARQUIS

You are.

KING (rises, walks a few paces and then stops opposite the MARQUIS – aside)

   This tone, at least, is new; but flattery
   Exhausts itself. And men of talent still
   Disdain to imitate. So let us test
   Its opposite for once. Why should I not?
   There is a charm in novelty. Should we
   Be so agreed, I will bethink me now
   Of some new state employment, in whose duties
   Your powerful mind —

MARQUIS

              Sire, I perceive how small,
   How mean, your notions are of manly worth.
   Suspecting, in an honest man's discourse,
   Naught but a flatterer's artifice – methinks
   I can explain the cause of this your error.
   Mankind compel you to it. With free choice
   They have disclaimed their true nobility,
   Lowered themselves to their degraded state.
   Before man's inward worth, as from a phantom,
   They fly in terror – and contented with
   Their poverty, they ornament their chains
   With slavish prudence; and they call it virtue
   To bear them with a show of resignation.
   Thus did you find the world, and thus it was
   By your great father handed o'er to you.
   In this debased connection – how could you
   Respect mankind?

KING

Your words contain some truth.

MARQUIS

   Alas! that when from the Creator's hand
   You took mankind, and moulded him to suit
   Your own ideas, making yourself the god
   Of this new creature, you should overlook
   That you yourself remained a human being —
   A very man, as from God's hands you came.
   Still did you feel a mortal's wants and pains.
   You needed sympathy; but to a God
   One can but sacrifice, and pray, and tremble —
   Wretched exchange! Perversion most unblest
   Of sacred nature! Once degrade mankind,
   And make him but a thing to play upon,
   Who then can share the harmony with you?

KING (aside)

By heaven, he moves me!

MARQUIS

                But this sacrifice
   To you is valueless. You thus become
   A thing apart, a species of your own.
   This is the price you pay for being a god;
   'Twere dreadful were it not so, and if you
   Gained nothing by the misery of millions!
   And if the very freedom you destroyed
   Were the sole blessing that could make you happy.
   Dismiss me, sire, I pray you; for my theme
   Bears me too far; my heart is full; too strong
   The charm, to stand before the only man
   To whom I may reveal it.

[The COUNT LERMA enters, and whispers a few words to the KING, who signs him to withdraw, and continues sitting in his former posture.

KING (to the MARQUIS, after LERMA is gone)

Nay, continue.

MARQUIS (after a pause)

I feel, sire – all the worth —

KING

Proceed; you had
Yet more to say to me.

MARQUIS

               Your majesty,
   I lately passed through Flanders and Brabant,
   So many rich and blooming provinces,
   Filled with a valiant, great, and honest people.
   To be the father of a race like this
   I thought must be divine indeed; and then
   I stumbled on a heap of burnt men's bones.

[He stops, he fixes a penetrating look on the KING, who endeavors to return his glance; but he looks on the ground, embarrassed and confused.

   True, you are forced to act so; but that you
   Could dare fulfil your task – this fills my soul
   With shuddering horror! Oh, 'tis pity that
   The victim, weltering in his blood, must cease
   To chant the praises of his sacrificer!
   And that mere men – not beings loftier far —
   Should write the history of the world. But soon
   A milder age will follow that of Philip,
   An age of truer wisdom; hand in hand,
   The subjects' welfare and the sovereign's greatness
   Will walk in union. Then the careful state
   Will spare her children, and necessity
   No longer glory to be thus inhuman.

KING

   When, think you, would that blessed age arrive,
   If I had shrunk before the curse of this?
   Behold my Spain, see here the burgher's good
   Blooms in eternal and unclouded peace.
   A peace like this will I bestow on Flanders.

MARQUIS (hastily)

   The churchyard's peace! And do you hope to end
   What you have now begun? Say, do you hope
   To check the ripening change of Christendom,
   The universal spring, that shall renew
   The earth's fair form? Would you alone, in Europe,
   Fling yourself down before the rapid wheel
   Of destiny, which rolls its ceaseless course,
   And seize its spokes with human arm. Vain thought!
   Already thousands have your kingdom fled
   In joyful poverty: the honest burgher
   For his faith exiled, was your noblest subject!
   See! with a mother's arms, Elizabeth
   Welcomes the fugitives, and Britain blooms
   In rich luxuriance, from our country's arts.
   Bereft of the new Christian's industry,
   Granada lies forsaken, and all Europe
   Exulting, sees his foe oppressed with wounds,
   By its own hands inflicted!

[The KING is moved; the MARQUIS observes it, and advances a step nearer.

                  You would plant
   For all eternity, and yet the seeds
   You sow around you are the seeds of death!
   This hopeless task, with nature's laws at strife,
   Will ne'er survive the spirit of its founder.
   You labor for ingratitude; in vain,
   With nature you engage in desperate struggle —
   In vain you waste your high and royal life
   In projects of destruction. Man is greater
   Than you esteem him. He will burst the chains
   Of a long slumber, and reclaim once more
   His just and hallowed rights. With Nero's name,
   And fell Busiris', will he couple yours;
   And – ah! you once deserved a better fate.

KING

How know you that?

MARQUIS

             In very truth you did —
   Yes, I repeat it – by the Almighty power!
   Restore us all you have deprived us of,
   And, generous as strong, let happiness
   Flow from your horn of plenty – let man's mind
   Ripen in your vast empire – give us back
   All you have taken from us – and become,
   Amidst a thousand kings, a king indeed!

[He advances boldly, and fixes on him a look of earnestness and enthusiasm.

   Oh, that the eloquence of all those myriads,
   Whose fate depends on this momentous hour,
   Could hover on my lips, and fan the spark
   That lights thine eye into a glorious flame!
   Renounce the mimicry of godlike powers
   Which level us to nothing. Be, in truth,
   An image of the Deity himself!
   Never did mortal man possess so much
   For purpose so divine. The kings of Europe
   Pay homage to the name of Spain. Be you
   The leader of these kings. One pen-stroke now,
   One motion of your hand, can new create
   The earth! but grant us liberty of thought.

[Casts himself at his feet.

KING (surprised, turns away his face, then again looks towards the MARQUIS)

Enthusiast most strange! arise; but I —

MARQUIS

   Look round on all the glorious face of nature,
   On freedom it is founded – see how rich,
   Through freedom it has grown. The great Creator
   Bestows upon the worm its drop of dew,
   And gives free-will a triumph in abodes
   Where lone corruption reigns. See your creation,
   How small, how poor! The rustling of a leaf
   Alarms the mighty lord of Christendom.
   Each virtue makes you quake with fear. While he,
   Not to disturb fair freedom's blest appearance,
   Permits the frightful ravages of evil
   To waste his fair domains. The great Creator
   We see not – he conceals himself within
   His own eternal laws. The sceptic sees
   Their operation, but beholds not Him.
   "Wherefore a God!" he cries, "the world itself
   Suffices for itself!" And Christian prayer
   Ne'er praised him more than doth this blasphemy.

KING

   And will you undertake to raise up this
   Exalted standard of weak human nature
   In my dominions?

MARQUIS

            You can do it, sire.
   Who else? Devote to your own people's bliss
   The kingly power, which has too long enriched
   The greatness of the throne alone. Restore
   The prostrate dignity of human nature,
   And let the subject be, what once he was,
   The end and object of the monarch's care,
   Bound by no duty, save a brother's love.
   And when mankind is to itself restored,
   Roused to a sense of its own innate worth,
   When freedom's lofty virtues proudly flourish —
   Then, sire, when you have made your own wide realms
   The happiest in the world, it then may be
   Your duty to subdue the universe.

KING (after a long pause)

   I've heard you to the end. Far differently
   I find, than in the minds of other men,
   The world exists in yours. And you shall not
   By foreign laws be judged. I am the first
   To whom you have your secret self disclosed;
   I know it – so believe it – for the sake
   Of this forbearance – that you have till now
   Concealed these sentiments, although embraced
   With so much ardor, – for this cautious prudence.
   I will forget, young man, that I have learned them,
   And how I learned them. Rise! I will confute
   Your youthful dreams by my matured experience,
   Not by my power as king. Such is my will,
   And therefore act I thus. Poison itself
   May, in a worthy nature, be transformed
   To some benignant use. But, sir, beware
   My Inquisition! 'Twould afflict me much —

MARQUIS

Indeed!

KING (lost in surprise)

        Ne'er met I such a man as that!
   No, marquis, no! you wrong me! Not to you
   Will I become a Nero – not to you! —
   All happiness shall not be blasted round me,
   And you at least, beneath my very eyes,
   May dare continue to remain a man.

MARQUIS (quickly)

And, sire, my fellow-subjects? Not for me,
Nor my own cause, I pleaded. Sire! your subjects —

KING

   Nay, if you know so well how future times
   Will judge me, let them learn at least from you,
   That when I found a man, I could respect him.

MARQUIS

   Oh, let not the most just of kings at once
   Be the most unjust! In your realm of Flanders
   There are a thousand better men than I.
   But you – sire! may I dare to say so much —
   For the first time, perhaps, see liberty
   In milder form portrayed.

KING (with gentle severity)

                 No more of this,
   Young man! You would, I know, think otherwise
   Had you but learned to understand mankind
   As I. But truly – I would not this meeting
   Should prove our last. How can I hope to win you?

MARQUIS

Pray leave me as I am. What value, sire,
Should I be to you were you to corrupt me?

KING

   This pride I will not bear. From this day forth
   I hold you in my service. No remonstrance —
   For I will have it so.

[After a pause.

               But how is this?
   What would I now? Was it not truth I wished?
   But here is something more. Marquis, so far
   You've learned to know me as a king; but yet
   You know me not as man —

[The MARQUIS seems to meditate.

               I understand you —
   Were I the most unfortunate of fathers,
   Yet as a husband may I not be blest?

MARQUIS

   If the possession of a hopeful son,
   And a most lovely spouse, confer a claim
   On mortal to assume that title, sire,
   In both respects, you are supremely blest.

KING (with a serious look)

That am I not – and never, till this hour,
Have I so deeply felt that I am not so.

[Contemplating the MARQUIS with a look of melancholy.

MARQUIS

The prince possesses a right noble mind.
I ne'er have known him otherwise.

KING

                     I have
   The treasure he has robbed me of, no crown
   Can e'er requite. So virtuous a queen!

MARQUIS

Who dare assert it, sire?

KING

                 The world! and scandal!
   And I myself! Here lie the damning proofs
   Of doubtless guilt – and others, too, exist,
   From which I fear the worst. But still 'tis hard
   To trust one proof alone. Who brings the charge?
   And oh! if this were possible – that she,
   The queen, so foully could pollute her honor,
   Then how much easier were it to believe
   An Eboli may be a slanderer!
   Does not that priest detest my son and her?
   And can I doubt that Alva broods revenge?
   My wife has higher worth than all together.

MARQUIS

   And there exists besides in woman's soul
   A treasure, sire, beyond all outward show,
   Above the reach of slander – female virtue!

KING

   Marquis! those thoughts are mine. It costs too much
   To sink so low as they accuse the queen.
   The sacred ties of honor are not broken
   With so much ease, as some would fain persuade me.
   Marquis, you know mankind. Just such a man
   As you I long have wished for – you are kind —
   Cheerful – and deeply versed in human nature —
   Therefore I've chosen you —

MARQUIS (surprised and alarmed)

Me, sire!

KING

                       You stand
   Before your king and ask no special favor —
   For yourself nothing! – that is new to me —
   You will be just – ne'er weakly swayed by passion.
   Watch my son close – search the queen's inmost heart.
   You shall have power to speak with her in private.
   Retire.

[He rings a bell.