PROJECT ASHABI
African Stories. Limitless Worlds.
PROJECT ASHABI
African Stories. Limitless Worlds.

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Complete unabridged public-domain literary work from the Project Gutenberg archive.
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PHILIP THE SECOND, King of Spain. DON CARLOS, Prince, Son of Philip. ALEXANDER FARNESE, Prince of Parma. MARQUIS DE POSA. DUKE OF ALVA.
Grandees of Spain: COUNT LERMA, Colonel of the Body Guard, DUKE OF FERIA, Knight of the Golden Fleece, DUKE OF MEDINA SIDONIA, Admiral, DON RAIMOND DE TAXIS, Postmaster-General,
DOMINGO, Confessor to the King. GRAND INQUISITOR of Spain. PRIOR of a Carthusian Convent. PAGE of the Queen. DON LOUIS MERCADO, Physician to the Queen. ELIZABETH DE VALOIS, Queen of Spain. INFANTA CLARA FARNESE, a Child three years of age. DUCHESS D'OLIVAREZ, Principal Attendant on the Queen.
Ladies Attendant on the Queen: MARCHIONESS DE MONDECAR, PRINCESS EBOLI, COUNTESS FUENTES,
Several Ladies, Nobles, Pages, Officers of the Body-Guard, and mute Characters.
DOMINGO. Our pleasant sojourn in Aranjuez Is over now, and yet your highness quits These joyous scenes no happier than before. Our visit hath been fruitless. Oh, my prince, Break this mysterious and gloomy silence! Open your heart to your own father's heart! A monarch never can too dearly buy The peace of his own son--his only son. [CARLOS looks on the ground in silence. Is there one dearest wish that bounteous Heaven Hath e'er withheld from her most favored child? I stood beside, when in Toledo's walls The lofty Charles received his vassals' homage, When conquered princes thronged to kiss his hand, And there at once six mighty kingdoms fell In fealty at his feet: I stood and marked The young, proud blood mount to his glowing cheek, I saw his bosom swell with high resolves, His eye, all radiant with triumphant pride, Flash through the assembled throng; and that same eye Confessed, "Now am I wholly satisfied!" [CARLOS turns away. This silent sorrow, which for eight long moons Hath hung its shadows, prince, upon your brow-- The mystery of the court, the nation's grief-- Hath cost your father many a sleepless night, And many a tear of anguish to your mother.
CARLOS (turning hastily round). My mother! Grant, O heaven, I may forget How she became my mother!

Arthur Conan Doyle