Queen. 'Fore Heaven, my lord! you know not what you do.
King. Still there appears disturbance on his brow;
And in his looks an earnestness I read,
Which from no common causes can proceed. [Aside.
I'll probe him deep. When, when, my dearest joy,
[To the Queen.
Shall I the mighty debt of love defray?
Hence to love's secret temple let's retire,
There on his altars kindle the amorous fire,
Then, phœnix-like, each in the flame expire.—
Still he is fixed. [Looking on Don Carlos.] Gomez, observe the prince.—
Yet smile on me, my charming excellence.
[To the Queen.
Virgins should only fears and blushes show;
But you must lay aside that title now.
The doctrine which I preach, by Heaven, is good:—
Oh, the impetuous sallies of my blood!
Queen. To what unwelcome joys I'm forced to yield?
Now fate her utmost malice has fulfilled.
Carlos, farewell; for since I must submit—
King. Now, winged with rapture, let us fly, my sweet.
My son, all troubles from thy breast resign,
And let thy father's happiness be thine.
[Exeunt King and Queen, Ruy-Gomez, Duchess of Eboli, Henrietta, Garcia, and Attendants.
Don Car. What king, what god would not his power forego,
To enjoy so much divinity below!
Didst thou behold her, Posa?