[13] Don Carlos actually engaged in intrigues with the principals of the revolution which broke out in the Low Countries during the tyrannical reign of Philip II., and ended in the establishment of the Dutch republic.--_Thornton._ [Illustration] [Illustration] ACT THE FIFTH. SCENE I.--_An Apartment in the Palace._ _Enter_ KING _disguised_. King. 'Tis night; the season when the happy take Repose, and only wretches are awake. Now discontented ghosts begin their rounds, Haunt ruined buildings and unwholesome grounds; Or at the curtains of the restless wait, To frighten them with some sad tale of fate. When I would rest, I can no rest obtain: The ills I've borne even o'er my slumbers reign, And in sad dreams torment me o'er again. The fatal business is ere this begun: I'm shocked, and start to think what I have done. But I forget how I that Philip am So much for constancy renowned by fame; Who through the progress of my life was ne'er By hopes transported, or depressed by fear. No, it is gone too far to be recalled, And steadfastness will make the act extolled. _Enter_ Duchess of EBOLI, _in a night-gown_. Who? Eboli? _D. of Eboli._ My lord. _King._ Is the deed done? _D. of Eboli._ 'Tis, and the queen to seek repose is gone. _King._ Can she expect it, who allowed me none? No, Eboli; her dreams must be as full Of horror, and as hellish as her soul. Does she believe the prince has freedom gained? _D. of Eboli._ She does. _King._ How were the tidings entertained? _D. of Eboli._ O'er all her face young wandering blushes were, Such as speak hopes too weak to conquer fear:-- But when confirmed, no lover e'er so kind; She clasped me fast, caressed, and called me friend. Which opportunity I took, to give The poison; and till day she cannot live. _King._ Quickly then to her; say that Carlos here Waits to confirm his happiness with her. Go, that my vengeance I may finish quite: 'Twould be imperfect, should I lose the sight. But to contrive that I may not be known, And she may still mistake me for my son, Remove all light but that which may suffice To let her see me scorn her when she dies. _D. of Eboli._ You'll find her all in rueful sables clad, With one dim lamp that yields imperfect light, Such as in vaults assist the ghastly shade, Where wretched widows come to weep at night. Thus she resolves to die, or living mourn, Till Carlos shall with liberty return. [_Exit._ _King._ O steadfast sin! incorrigible lust! Not damned! it is impossible; she must. How do I long to see her in her pains, The poisonous sulphur rolling through her veins! _Enter_ Don JOHN _and_ Attendants. Who's there? my brother?