Carlos. Of parricide! What hear I? Parricide?
Thyself canst not believe it. And what proof,
What inference, what suspicion?
Philip. Inference, proof
And certainty, I from thy paleness draw.
Carlos. Father! Oh, force me not, by fierce excess,
That fearful bound to pass, which 'twixt the subject
And sovereign—'twixt the father and the son,
Heaven, nature, and the laws have placed!
Philip. With foot
Most sacrilegious thou hast passed already,
Long since, that bound. What do I say? Unknown
It ever was to thee. Lay by the words
Of haughty virtue and severe; but ill
Such words become thee. Speak now as thou art;
Thy meditated treasons, and the many
Already ripe, unveil. What dost thou fear?
That I should be less great than thou art impious?
If truth thou speak'st and nought dost hide, then hope!
If aught thou dare conceal, then tremble!
Carlos. Truth
Severe thou forcest from me now. Myself
Too well I know, to fear; and thee, oh Philip!
Too well I know, to hope. The luckless gift,
My life, take back; 'tis thine; but mine my honor,
Which thou hadst never power to take nor give.
Guilty I should be, if to such confession
Base fear could lead me.
Here my latest breath
Thou may'st behold me draw; long, cruel death,
And infamous prepare for me; no death
Degrades me. Thou alone, sire—thou alone
Wilt not weep tears of pity for my fate.
Philip. Rash youth! thus to thy sovereign lord dost offer
Excuse for all thy crimes?
Carlos. Excuse? Thou hat'st me,
That is mine only fault; thy thirst for blood
Mine only crime. Thy right alone, O king,
Is kingdom absolute.
Philip. Ho—guards—arrest him!
Carlos. Such is a tyrant's sole reply. These arms,
Lo! to the chain I give—lo! to the steel
I bare my breast. Wherefore delay? Dost now
Begin to soften? Day by day thy reign
Is written in black characters of blood.
Philip. Bear him hence—from my sight. In the next tower,
Unto the deepest dungeon. Wo to you
If any of you show compassion to him.