PAGE.
With her own hands.
CARLOS.
She gave this letter to you then herself?
Deceive me not: I ne'er have seen her writing,
And I must credit thee, if thou canst swear it;
But if thy tale be false, confess it straight,
Nor put this fraud on me.
PAGE.
This fraud, on whom?
CARLOS (looking once more at the letter, then at the PAGE with doubt
and earnestness).
Your parents—are they living? and your father—
Serves he the king? Is he a Spaniard born?
PAGE.
He fell a colonel on St. Quentin's field,
Served in the cavalry of Savoy's duke—
His name Alonzo, Count of Henarez.
CARLOS (taking his hand, and looking fixedly in his eyes).
The king gave you this letter?
PAGE (with emotion).
Gracious prince,
Have I deserved these doubts?
CARLOS (reading the letter).
"This key unlocks
The back apartments in the queen's pavilion,
The furthest room lies next a cabinet
Wherein no listener's foot dare penetrate;
Here may the voice of love without restraint
Confess those tender feelings, which till now
The heart with silent looks alone hath spoken.
The timid lover gains an audience here,
And sweet reward repays his secret sorrow."
[As if awakening from a reverie.
I am not in a dream, do not rave,
This is my right hand, this my sword—and these
Are written words. 'Tis true—it is no dream.
I am beloved, I feel I am beloved.