llect 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