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Char.--Oh Heaven, and can I thus withdraw mysell from my father ? Il conceried fight would be a fresh fault in me, and my father already inpites too many faults to me. The only instance in which I am guilty, he knows not at all.
Isa.- Would that I knew not.
Char.-If in this I have offended thee, thou shalt have revenge and soon. Leave me in these balls, if grief should not lead me to death, the hatred, and rancour of a father will condict me thither ; A father who hath sworn in his heart of blood, my death ? in this horrible palace (dear however to me since it lodgelb thee), ah! suffer me to breathe out my life near thee.
182.- Ah prospect; as long as thou remainest here, I fear too much for thee-a voice porten link thy sad fale sounds in my bosom; hearken, this is the first and at once the last proof of love which I ask fro:n thee; if thou lovestme, withdraw thy-, self from thy cruel father.
Char.-Oh Lady! it is a thing impossible.
Isq.- Leave me then noir, mire than before. Was; preserve my fame intonched, and at the same time preserve thine own, clear thyself thuis of the false crimes of which movious rage accuises thee. Live, I com nothpa, live; may my ville remain inimpaired with thee, my thoughts, my heart, and my soul in spite of myself are with thee; huit of my footsteps lose the traces, and canse that I shall not hear thee ever more - hitherto Heaven only is willness of the fault, may it he hiken entirely from the world, may it be hillen from 115, and pluck out the recollection of it even from thy heari- if thou canst.
Char.- Wilt thou not hear me pyer more? (While he wishes to follow her, she absolutely forbids him.)
Char.-Ah wretched ine......Oh, day-Does she thus leave me! Oh, my barbarous fate. I am happy and miserable at the same time,
Charles and Peres.
Peres. -I am in sear
orch of thee, my Lord. But Oh Heaven, wherefore art thou so pertarbed ; Oh what can it be? Thou are were, beside thyself. Ah speak thou shalt have me a par:
ner of thy grief. Buy art thou silent ? Did I not grow up hy llis side from thy tenderesi years ? Hast thou not always named nie a Triend?
Char.-- And darest ihon in this palace, nties such a name,-a narne always proscrilied by the improuis court althongh it is daily beard here. To thie tatol. To nie diseless. Thy fidelity is too out of place, yield, yield to the correni, and do thou also follow the fickle crowd aud lo the sovereign idol present with il gaintal incense and
Peres.- Alas, Do not this slight me. Distinguish me froin the deceiitul crowd. But what arajls it my swearing fideliir here- here, where exrry one
and heirave it. Pri nis heart and hand to a niore sure tesi, sar wbat danger son wish me 10 encounter fur thee, where is the enemy most obnoxious to thee? Speak.
Char.-1 have no cher enemy ihan my father, since I hate not the wish (nor ouglio 1 10 honor his vile people with such a
father I oppose silence ; 10 the rest contempt.
Char.- What savest thon Peres? The king knows the truth much more than you imagine, he hates it rather than is ignorant of it. Nor does he pay attention to any voice in my favor.
Peres.- Ah it is the force of nature ibat he should hear it!
Char.- He has closed his impenetrable iron heart. leave my delence lo innocence and Hraren, which sometimes vouchsales io
innocence a benign regard. Were I guilty thou ari the only person whom I would not disdain as an intercessor; what greater proof of my friendship can I afford there?
Peres. of thy destiny (and may il be such as thon wishest) make ine a purwer; so much I desire, and no more.--u bat other bonorable burdon remains in' ibis borrible palace ?
Chur.- Bat are you ignorant that my destiny, whatever it may be, cannot be happy..
l'eres.- I am lliy friend, not thine equal ! ah, is indeed it be true rhai diri led griel is lessened thou shall have me as separable companion of thy every sorrow!
Chur.-Such grief is enclosed within my heart as brings me to death, deep griet' which is riesertheless precions. Ah ! alas is it such that I cannot disclose it to thee? ah iro, I do not seek, nor is there a wore gentons (ind than ther, and to give thre a true proof of friendsbip in prning to thee my heart. Oh Heaven, I ean1101! go mnt', what hase 100n gained from so great and 80 ill placed it contidence! I do not deserve ir; again I repeat it so there leave me --- Jou know not the atrocions guilt which it is lo keep Tuith, with a man towards wbom bis king relaias balred.
Peres.-- But thon knowest not what glory it is to keep it deg. pile of every king! In doubling me, ihon piercest, though thou caust not change my hear'ı! dust thou hide' within tbv breast a deadly surowy which thou canst not tell me. I by no means wish 10 know it, but if I ask thee and wish, that ihy yriel should briny nie lo die will there, condilst thou cruelly deny it me ? Charles, dost thou wish it! Then here is my unlucky band ! I give thee as a pledge of inaospicious friendsliip. I commiserale thee! but I shall no longer at any time complain of my destiriyor of Heavell, which bas been ihus liberal to me in so choice a friend. O Philip' how much am I less unhappy than thee, thou art deserving of pity rather than of envy, in the midst of pomps
and false adulation, thou hast never known sacred friends sbip.
ACT THE SECOND.
SCENE THE FIRST.
Philip and Gomes.
Phil.- What thing, Gomes, above all others in the world, dose thov prize?
Gomes. Those same means by which l obtain.ed il-obeying it.ee and being silent,
Phil.--This day, then, you must do boib one and the other. Gomes.- It is no new charge lu me—Thou know'est ibai I
Phil.-I know that up to the present moment thou hast been the most trusty among my confidants; but upon this day, in which I am revolving
vast projeri, perhaps in fiding to thee so important and new a charya', I should first bring 10 you remeubrance in a liw words ibut your duty isas given me sa islaction.
Gomes,- This day the great Philip will be able to know me even beller.
Phil.-That which I exact of thee now, may be easy; and to thee alove it can be easy: nol su W
queen comes here in a few momenis, and soul will licar vie Converse with her at soine length-during the time, observe and mark even the smallest movements of her countenance, fix upon her thy penetrate iny gaze, such as thai by which thon knosest livw to read orien even the hidden wish in the must secret breast of thy king, and sileuty to execute il.
scese THE SECOND.
Philip, Isulella and Gomes.
Isa.-I have come, sire, for thy cominands.
Phil.-Oh Queen! an importaut reason bas willed that I should call thee.
Phil.- Thou shalt soon tear! can I hope from thee? But what doubt is there, ho better than thysell may give me sincere and impartial counsel ?
Isa.-I to counsel theo ?
Phil.-Yea. I value thine opinion more than any other person's; and if (up to the present line) thou hast not divided with me the care of my empire, lliou shouldest not ascribe it either to the little affection oi thy cousori, or 10 the least wall of contidence on the part of thy kmy-only I have ever mislitd to withdraw the totally from cares of state for serious for thy sex; but to my mislortune, the day has now arrived that I see a case arise wherein are mingled with reasons of state, family reasons also, 10 such a degree, lial thou should'st be my principal adviser. But previous lo my speaking, I would wish iv hear from thee whether thon egardest us more awful, vencrable and sacred, the name of father, or that of king ? Isa.- They are both equally sacred, and
who knows not that
Phil.-.-Snchan one perhaps, such an as ought to know it beller, than any one else. But lell nie also before I narrate the fact and tell me the truth-my sou Charles, dust iliou love or hale hin ?
Isa.- My Lord !
Phil.---Well-I already understand thee; if you attend to the affections of thy heari, and not the voice of uby virtue, thou feel. est that thou art bis step-mother.
Isa.—Ah no, 190u deceivest thysell; the prince
Phil.- He is dear 10 ihee theu !- and thou hast therefore in ihee so much virtue, that being the spouse of Philip thou lovest notwithstanding the son of Philip wish a love malernal!
Isa.— Thou alone art the standard to my thoughissal hot lovest him, or at least I believe so, and in like manner I also love.
Phil.-Since there is not contained, then, within thy kindly and great heart the temper of a step-mother, por leelest thou the blind affection of a mother, I wish thee to be judge of my soni-Hear me-Cbarles was, for many years the only object of all my hopes; previous to the time when withdrawing his feet
from the path of virlue, he deceived my high expectations. Oh hot many times since have I sought within myself paternal cxcuse's for the repeated faults of my intractable son. But now his rash aud frantic audacity has reached, to-day, it's highest point, and I an compelled in employ much more vivlent measures; a crime of such magnitude is superadded to his other so great delinquencies: one in comparison lo which all the olbers are nothing; such as all that I can say fails 10 express : he has done ouirages lo me which have no eqnal; such which a faiber vever expects from a son; such as make liim to be no longer a son in my eyes. But what, even thou thysell; (and before thou knowest it 100) art thou hor. rified ? Hear it ihen, and be horrified in quite a different way. Thou knowest that for already more than five years that poor and miserable population of a marshy tract upon the suuken border of the sea has dared 10 allempe an opposition to my power, vo less rebels to God than 10 their own king ; making of one breach of faith the pretext for another; thou knowest how much gold and sweat and blood this war has been continually costing this empire to io purpose; but should it cost me bulb ihrone and life, I will not suffer this vile race to go un audacionsly por unpopished for their atrocious crime : I swear 10 sacrifice this impious people as a riciiin to Heaven ; and despite of then they shall learn how to die, since they cannot know how to obey : How who would beliere it, that with such ferocious and cruel enemies, my son, my only son alas, would have joined !
Isa.- Is it the prince ?
Phil.-- The prince, yes! many intercepted letters and clandestine messages, and his openly jusolent seditious language, make me much loo suru of it-ali! Think for hyself what may be the condition of & betrayed king and an unhappy father! and what tate may await (by just right) so guilty a soņ: du chou declare for me?
Isa.-Uubappy me! Dost thou desire that Iibe fate of thy son- - ?
Phil.-Yes, thou art now the arbitress of it: Thou shouldest neither fear the king nar flatter the lacher-Pronounce!
Isa.-Ilear nothing but lest I should offend against what is just; betore the throne the innocent and guilty are often confounded 10gether,
Phil. - But canst thou doubt concerning that of which the King assures thee! who can wish him not guilty nore than I do? alas! lo charge hun lalsely with an unheard of crime!
Isa.---Hast thou then yet convicted him of it?
Phil.--Ah who could ever convince him-fierce and prond ho disdans meeling clear prools, I will not say with reasons, but even with pretences. I should not be willing to speak to him of his new treason if I had not previously controuled in my breasi the indig. nation of my first passiou : but cold reason of state (alihongla rew