Don Car. Oh, take not back again the appearing bliss:
How difficult's the path to happiness!
Whilst up the precipice we climb with pain,
One little slip throws us quite down again.
Stay, madam, though you nothing more can give
Than just enough to keep a wretch alive,
At least remember how I've loved—
Queen. I will.
Don Car. That was so kind, that I must beg more still;
Let me love on: it is a very poor
And easy grant, yet I'll request no more.
Queen. Do you believe that you can love retain,
And not expect to be beloved again?
Don Car. Yes, I will love, and think I'm happy too,
So long as I can find that you are so;
All my disquiets banish from my breast;
I will endeavour to do so at least. [Sighing deeply.
Or, if I can't my miseries outwear,
They never more shall come to offend your ear.
Queen. Love then, brave prince, whilst I'll thy love admire;
[Gives her hand, which Don Carlos during all this speech kisses eagerly.
Yet keep the flame so pure, such chaste desire,
That without spot hereafter we above
May meet, when we shall come all soul, all love.
Till when—Oh! whither am I run astray?
I grow too weak, and must no longer stay:
For should I, the soft charm so strong would grow,
I find that I shall want the power to go.
[Exeunt Queen and Henrietta.
Don Car. Oh, sweet—
If such transport be in a taste so small,
How blest must he be that possesses all!
Where am I, Posa? Where's the queen?