[_A curtain is drawn, and discovers the_ QUEEN _alone in mourning on her couch,_ _with a lamp by her._ Look where she sits, as quiet and serene [_Ironically._ As if she never had a thought of sin, In mourning, her wronged innocence to show! She has sworn't so oft, that she believes it true. O'erwhelmed with sorrow she'll in darkness dwell: So we have heard of witches in a cell, Treating with fiends, and making leagues with hell. [_The_ QUEEN _rises and comes towards him_. _Queen._ My lord! Prince Carlos! may it be believed? Are my eyes blessed; and am I not deceived? _King._ My queen, my love, I'm here-- [_Embraces her._ _Queen._ My lord the king! This is surprising kindness which you bring. Can you believe me innocent at last? Methinks my griefs are half already past. _King._ O tongue, in nothing practised but deceit! Too well she knew him, not to find the cheat. [_Aside._ Yes, vile incestuous woman, it is I, The king: look on me well, despair, and die. _Queen._ Why had you not pronounced my doom before, Since to affliction you could add no more? Methinks death is less welcome, when I find You could but counterfeit a look that's kind. _King._ No, now thou'rt fit for death: had I believed Thou couldst have been more wicked, thou hadst lived,-- Lived and gone on in lust and riot still; But I perceived thee early ripe for hell: And, that of the reward thou mightst not miss, This night thou'st drank thy bane, thou'rt poisoned; yes, Thou art-- _Queen._ Then welcome everlasting bliss! But, ere I die, let me here make a vow,-- By Heaven, and all I hope for there, I'm true! _King._ Vows you had always ready when you spoke: How many of them have you made, and broke! Yet there's a Power that does your falsehood hear, A just one too, that lets thee live to swear. How comes it that above such mercy dwells, To permit sin, and make us infidels? _Queen._ You have been ever so to all that's good, My innocence had else been understood. At first your love was nothing but your pride. When I arrived to be the prince's bride, You then a kind indulgent father were; But, finding me unfortunately fair, Thought me a prize too rich to be possessed By him, and forced yourself into my breast, Where you maintained an unresisted power; Not your own daughter could have loved you more, Till, conscious of your age, my faith was blamed, And I a lewd adulteress proclaimed, Accused of foulest incest with your son-- What more could my worst enemy have done?