cantly).
Didst thou not tell me that thou lov'st thy mother?
And wouldst thou really show this letter to her?

[CARLOS fixes his eyes on the ground, and remains silent.

I read a something, Carlos, in thy looks
Unknown to me before. Thou turn'st thine eyes
Away from me. Then it is true, and have I
Judged thee aright? Here, let me see that paper.

[CARLOS gives him the letter, and the MARQUIS tears it.

CARLOS.
What! art thou mad?
[Moderating his warmth.
In truth--I must confess it,
That letter was of deepest moment to me.

MARQUIS.
So it appeared: on that account I tore it.

[The MARQUIS casts a penetrating look on the PRINCE,
who surveys him with doubt and surprise. A long silence.

Now speak to me with candor, Carlos. What
Have desecrations of the royal bed
To do with thee--thy love? Dost thou fear Philip?
How are a husband's violated duties
Allied with thee and thy audacious hopes?
Has he sinned there, where thou hast placed thy love?
Now then, in truth, I learn to comprehend thee--
How ill till now I've understood thy love!

CARLOS.
What dost thou think, Roderigo?

MARQUIS.
Oh, I feel
From what it is that I must wean myself.
Once it was otherwise! Yes, once thy soul
Was bounteous, rich, and warm, and there was room
For a whole world in thy expanded heart.
Those feelings are extinct--all swallowed up
In one poor, petty, selfish passion. Now
Thy heart is withered, dead! No tears last thou
For the unhappy fate of wretched Flanders--
No, not another tear. Oh, Carlos! see
How poor, how beggarly, thou hast become,
Since all thy love has centered in thyself!

CARLOS (flings himself into a chair. After a pause, with
scarcely suppressed tears).
Too well I know thou lovest me no more!

MARQUIS.
Not so, my Carlos. Well I understand
This fiery passion: 'tis the misdirection
Of feelings pure and noble in themselves.
The queen belonged to thee: the king, thy father,
Despoiled thee of her--yet till now thou hast
Been modestly distrustful of thy claims.
Philip, perhaps, was worthy of her! Thou
Scarce dared to breathe his sentence in a whisper--
This letter has resolved thy doubts, and proved
Thou art the worthier man. With haughty joy
Thou saw'st before thee rise the doom that waits
On tyranny convicted of a theft,
But thou wert proud to be the injured one:
Wrongs undeserved great souls can calmly suffer,
Yet here thy fancy played thee false: thy p