CARLOS. I bide my doom, or be it life or death. Have I staked every hope on this one moment, Which gives thee to me thus at length alone, That idle fears should balk me of my purpose? No, queen! The world may round its axis roll A hundred thousand times, ere chance again Yield to my prayers a moment such as this. QUEEN. It never shall to all eternity. Unhappy man! What would you ask of me? CARLOS. Heaven is my witness, queen, how I have struggled, Struggled as mortal never did before, But all in vain! My manhood fails--I yield. QUEEN. No more of this--for my sake--for my peace. CARLOS. You were mine own,--in face of all the world,-- Affianced to me by two mighty crowns, By heaven and nature plighted as my bride, But Philip, cruel Philip, stole you from me! QUEEN. He is your father? CARLOS. And he is your husband! QUEEN. And gives to you for an inheritance, The mightiest monarchy in all the world. CARLOS. And you, as mother! QUEEN. Mighty heavens! You rave! CARLOS. And is he even conscious of his treasure? Hath he a heart to feel and value yours? I'll not complain--no, no, I will forget, How happy, past all utterance, I might Have been with you,--if he were only so. But he is not--there, there, the anguish lies! He is not, and he never--never can be. Oh, you have robbed me of my paradise, Only to blast it in King Philip's arms! QUEEN. Horrible thought! CARLOS. Oh, yes, right well I know Who 'twas that knit this ill-starred marriage up. I know how Philip loves, and how he wooed. What are you in this kingdom--tell me, what? Regent, belike! Oh, no! If such you were, How could fell Alvas act their murderous deeds, Or Flanders bleed a martyr for her faith? Are you even Philip's wife? Impossible,-- Beyond belief. A wife doth still possess Her husband's heart. To whom doth his belong? If ever, perchance, in some hot feverish mood, He yields to gentler impulse, begs he not Forgiveness of his sceptre and gray hairs? QUEEN. Who told you that my lot, at Philip's side Was one for men to pity? CARLOS. My own heart! Which feels, with burning pangs, how at my side It had been to be envied. QUEEN. Thou vain man! What if my heart should tell me the reverse? How, sir, if Philip's watchful tenderness, The looks that silently proclaim his love, Touched me more deeply than his haughty son's Presumptuous eloquence? What, if an old man's Matured esteem---- CARLOS. That makes a difference! Then, Why then, forgiveness!--I'd no thought of this; I had no thought that you could love the king. QUEEN. To honor him's my pleasure and my wish. CARLOS. Then you have never loved? QUEEN. Singular question! CARLOS. Then you have never loved? QUEEN. I love no longer! CARLOS. Because your heart forbids it, or your oath? QUEEN. Leave me; nor never touch this theme again. CARLOS. Because your oath forbids it, or your heart?