eagerly the Marquis of Posa, who demands a private audience, and gives the king a pocket-book, which he says he took from the prince's chamber. Among the papers it contains, is the letter from the princess of Eboli to Carlos; at sight of this paper a light flashes upon the mind of the king, who perceives her motive for traducing her mistress. The Marquis receives permission to control the movements of the prince, and a full warrant for his arrest and imprisonment, should he at any time deem such a measure necessary. In the gallery Carlos meets again the boding Count Lerma. The old man describes his pocket-book, of blue velvet wrought with gold, and tells him he saw it in the king's hand, while Posa stood beside him, and received the royal thanks for “the discovery.” The prince cannot disbelieve a story so well attested, but fears not for himself; his whole soul is bent to secure the safety of the queen, which he conceives endangered by the unfortunate note sent to him by Posa, that was in the pocket-book when he gave it to the Marquis. It is a beautiful trait in the character of this youth, that under no circumstances does it enter his head to doubt the nobleness of his friend. Even in the face of this damning evidence, his only exclamation is, “I have lost him!” He knows the Marquis to be actuated by motives higher than those affecting the private safety or happiness of any man in the realm; and if he imagines that he is to be offered up for the good of a nation, he thinks not of charging with treachery or cruelty the man who, he is convinced, is impelled by necessity to the course he pursues. Duke Alba and Domingo, burning with envy and jealousy towards Posa, repair to the queen, and warn her against him. She receives their protestations of loyal devotion with haughty coldness. _Queen_. Most worthy sir, and you, my noble Duke, You do surprise me, truly. Such devotion From the Duke Alba—from Domingo—sooth, I ne'er expected. And I know full well How I must value it. You speak of plots Which threaten me—may I inquire—— _Alba_. We pray you Look well unto the lord of Posa, he, Private commission from his Majesty Who holds. _Queen_. I hear with pleasure, sirs, unmixed, The king hath chosen so well. I long have heard The Marquis, as a noble knight, reported— As a great man. Never was royal favor— The highest grace—more righteously bestowed. _Domingo_. More righteously bestowed? Nay—we know better.