MARQUIS (sinking down). I believe--for me. CARLOS (falling to the earth with a loud cry of grief). O God of mercy! MARQUIS. He is quick--the king. I had hoped--a little longer--Carlos--think Of means of flight--dost hear me?--of thy flight. Thy mother--knows it all--I can no more. [Dies. [CARLOS remains by the corpse, like one bereft of life. After some time the KING enters, accompanied by many GRANDEES; and starts, panic-struck, at the sight. A general and deep silence. The GRANDEES range themselves in a semi-circle round them both, and regard the KING and his SON alternately. The latter continues without any sign of life. The KING regards him in thoughtful silence. SCENE IV. The KING, CARLOS, the DUKESS ALVA, FERIA, and MEDINA SIDONIA, PRINCE OF PARMA, COUNT LERMA, DOMINGO, and numerous GRANDEES. KING (in a gentle tone). Thy prayer hath met a gracious hearing, prince, And here I come, with all the noble peers Of this my court, to bring thee liberty. [CARLOS raises his eyes and looks around him like one awakened from a dream. His eyes are fixed now on the KING, now on the corpse; he gives no answer. Receive thy sword again. We've been too rash! [He approaches him, holds out his hand, and assists him to rise. My son's not in his place; Carlos, arise! Come to thy father's arms! His love awaits thee. CARLOS (receives the embrace of the KING without any consciousness. Suddenly recollects himself, pauses and looks fixedly at him). Thou smell'st of blood--no, I cannot embrace thee! [Pushes his father back. All the GRANDEES are in commotion. CARLOS to them:-- Nay, stand not there confounded and amazed!-- What monstrous action have I done? Defiled The anointed of the Lord! Oh, fear me not, I would not lay a hand on him. Behold, Stamped on his forehead is the damning brand! The hand of God hath marked him! KING (about to go quickly). Nobles! follow. CARLOS. Whither? You stir not from this spot. [Detaining the KING forcibly with both hands, while with one he manages to seize the sword which the KING has brought with him, and it comes from the scabbard. KING. What! Draw A sword upon thy father? ALL THE GRANDEES (drawing their swords). Regicide! CARLOS (holding the KING firmly with one hand, the naked sword in the other). Put up your swords! What! Think you I am mad? I am not so: or you were much to blame Thus to remind me, that upon the point Of this my sword, his trembling life doth hover. I pray you, stand aloof; for souls like mine Need soothing. There--hold back! And with the king What I have yet to settle touches not Your loyalty. See there--his hand is bloody! Do you not see it? And now look you here! [Pointing to the corpse. This hath he done with a well-practised hand.