MARQUIS.
You are.
KING (rises, walks a few paces and then stops opposite
the MARQUIS—aside).
This tone, at least, is new; but flattery
Exhausts itself. And men of talent still
Disdain to imitate. So let us test
Its opposite for once. Why should I not?
There is a charm in novelty. Should we
Be so agreed, I will bethink me now
Of some new state employment, in whose duties
Your powerful mind——
MARQUIS.
Sire, I perceive how small,
How mean, your notions are of manly worth.
Suspecting, in an honest man's discourse,
Naught but a flatterer's artifice—methinks
I can explain the cause of this your error.
Mankind compel you to it. With free choice
They have disclaimed their true nobility,
Lowered themselves to their degraded state.
Before man's inward worth, as from a phantom,
They fly in terror—and contented with
Their poverty, they ornament their chains
With slavish prudence; and they call it virtue
To bear them with a show of resignation.
Thus did you find the world, and thus it was
By your great father handed o'er to you.
In this debased connection—how could you
Respect mankind?
KING.
Your words contain some truth.
MARQUIS.
Alas! that when from the Creator's hand
You took mankind, and moulded him to suit
Your own ideas, making yourself the god
Of this new creature, you should overlook
That you yourself remained a human being—
A very man, as from God's hands you came.
Still did you feel a mortal's wants and pains.
You needed sympathy; but to a God
One can but sacrifice, and pray, and tremble—
Wretched exchange! Perversion most unblest
Of sacred nature! Once degrade mankind,
And make him but a thing to play upon,
Who then can share the harmony with you?
KING (aside).
By heaven, he moves me!
MARQUIS.
But this sacrifice
To you is valueless. You thus become
A thing apart, a species of your own.
This is the price you pay for being a god;
'Twere dreadful were it not so, and if you
Gained nothing by the misery of millions!
And if the very freedom you destroyed
Were the sole blessing that could make you happy.
Dismiss me, sire, I pray you; for my theme
Bears me too far; my heart is full; too strong
The charm, to stand before the only man
To whom I may reveal it.
[The COUNT LERMA enters, and whispers a few words
to the KING, who signs him to withdraw, and continues
sitting in his former posture.
KING (to the MARQUIS, after LERMA is gone).
Nay, continue.
MARQUIS (after a pause).