_Don Car._ So merchants, cast upon some savage coast, Are forced to see their dearest treasures lost. Curse! what's obedience? a false notion made By priests, who when they found old cheats decayed, By such new arts kept up declining trade. [_Aside._ A father! Oh! _King._ Why does my Carlos shroud His joy, and when all's sunshine wear a cloud? My son, thus for thy glory I provide; From this fair charmer, and our royal bride, Shall such a noble race of heroes spring, As may adorn the court when thou art king. _Don Car._ A greater glory I can never know Than what already I enjoy in you. The brightest ornaments of crowns and powers I only can admire, as they are yours. _King._ Heaven! how he stands unmoved! not the least show Of transport. _Don Car._ Not admire your happiness? I do As much admire it as I reverence you. Let me express the mighty joy I feel: Thus, sir, I pay my duty when I kneel. [_Kneels to the_ QUEEN. _Queen._ How hard it is his passion to confine! I'm sure 'tis so, if I may judge by mine. [_Aside._ Alas! my lord, you're too obsequious now. [_To_ Don CARLOS. _Don Car._ Oh! might I but enjoy this pleasure still, Here would I worship, and for ever kneel. _Queen._ 'Fore Heaven, my lord! you know not what you do. _King._ Still there appears disturbance on his brow; And in his looks an earnestness I read, Which from no common causes can proceed. [_Aside._ I'll probe him deep. When, when, my dearest joy, [_To the_ QUEEN. Shall I the mighty debt of love defray? Hence to love's secret temple let's retire, There on his altars kindle the amorous fire, Then, phoenix-like, each in the flame expire.-- Still he is fixed. [_Looking on_ Don CARLOS.] Gomez, observe the prince.-- Yet smile on me, my charming excellence. [_To the_ QUEEN. Virgins should only fears and blushes show; But you must lay aside that title now. The doctrine which I preach, by Heaven, is good:-- Oh, the impetuous sallies of my blood! _Queen._ To what unwelcome joys I'm forced to yield? Now fate her utmost malice has fulfilled. Carlos, farewell; for since I must submit-- _King._ Now, winged with rapture, let us fly, my sweet. My son, all troubles from thy breast resign, And let thy father's happiness be thine. [_Exeunt_ KING _and_ QUEEN, RUY-GOMEZ, Duchess of EBOLI, HENRIETTA, GARCIA, _and_ Attendants. _Don Car._ What king, what god would not his power forego, To enjoy so much divinity below! Didst thou behold her, Posa? _M. of Posa._ Sir, I did.