[The Queen rises and comes towards him.
Queen. My lord! Prince Carlos! may it be believed?
Are my eyes blessed; and am I not deceived?
King. My queen, my love, I'm here— [Embraces her.
Queen. My lord the king!
This is surprising kindness which you bring.
Can you believe me innocent at last?
Methinks my griefs are half already past.
King. O tongue, in nothing practised but deceit!
Too well she knew him, not to find the cheat. [Aside.
Yes, vile incestuous woman, it is I,
The king: look on me well, despair, and die.
Queen. Why had you not pronounced my doom before,
Since to affliction you could add no more?
Methinks death is less welcome, when I find
You could but counterfeit a look that's kind.
King. No, now thou'rt fit for death: had I believed
Thou couldst have been more wicked, thou hadst lived,—
Lived and gone on in lust and riot still;
But I perceived thee early ripe for hell:
And, that of the reward thou mightst not miss,
This night thou'st drank thy bane, thou'rt poisoned; yes,
Thou art—
Queen. Then welcome everlasting bliss!
But, ere I die, let me here make a vow,—
By Heaven, and all I hope for there, I'm true!
King. Vows you had always ready when you spoke:
How many of them have you made, and broke!
Yet there's a Power that does your falsehood hear,
A just one too, that lets thee live to swear.
How comes it that above such mercy dwells,
To permit sin, and make us infidels?
Queen. You have been ever so to all that's good,
My innocence had else been understood.
At first your love was nothing but your pride.
When I arrived to be the prince's bride,
You then a kind indulgent father were;
But, finding me unfortunately fair,
Thought me a prize too rich to be possessed
By him, and forced yourself into my breast,
Where you maintained an unresisted power;
Not your own daughter could have loved you more,
Till, conscious of your age, my faith was blamed,
And I a lewd adulteress proclaimed,
Accused of foulest incest with your son—
What more could my worst enemy have done?