And curious ears haunts only those resorts
Where wealth and passion dwell--but from these walls
The world's forever banished.

CARLOS.
You may think,
Perhaps, beneath this seeming fear and caution
There lies a guilty conscience?

PRIOR.
I think nothing.

CARLOS.
If you imagine this, most holy father,
You err--indeed you err. My secret shuns
The sight of man--but not the eye of God.

PRIOR.
Such things concern us little. This retreat
To guilt, and innocence alike, is open,
And whether thy designs be good or ill,
Thy purpose criminal or virtuous,--that
We leave to thee to settle with thy heart.

CARLOS (with warmth).
Our purpose never can disgrace your God.
'Tis his own noblest work. To you indeed,
I may reveal it.

PRIOR.
To what end, I pray?
Forego, dear prince, this needless explanation.
The world and all its troubles have been long
Shut from my thoughts--in preparation for
My last long journey. Why recall them to me
For the brief space that must precede my death?
'Tis little for salvation that we need--
But the bell rings, and summons me to prayer.

[Exit PRIOR.

SCENE XV.

DON CARLOS; the MARQUIS POSA enters.

CARLOS.
At length once more,--at length----

MARQUIS.
Oh, what a trial
For the impatience of a friend! The sun
Has risen twice--twice set--since Carlos' fate
Has been resolved, and am I only now
To learn it: speak,--you're reconciled!

CARLOS.
With whom?

MARQUIS.
The king! And Flanders, too,--its fate is settled!

CARLOS.
The duke sets out to-morrow. That is fixed.

MARQUIS.
That cannot be--it is not surely so.
Can all Madrid be so deceived? 'Tis said
You had a private audience, and the king----

CARLOS.
Remained inflexible, and we are now
Divided more than ever.

MARQUIS.
Do you go
To Flanders?

CARLOS.
No!

MARQUIS.
Alas! my blighted hopes!

CARLOS.
Of this hereafter. Oh, Roderigo! since
We parted last, what have I not endured?
But first thy counsel? I must speak with her!

MARQUIS.
Your mother? No! But wherefore?

CARLOS.
I have hopes--
But you turn pale! Be calm--I should be happy.
And I shall be so: but of this anon--
Advise me now, how I may speak with her.

MARQUIS.
What mean you? What new feverish dream is this?

CARLOS.
By the great God of wonders 'tis no dream!
'Tis truth, reality----