Don Carlos: A Play

The MARQUIS alone.

Marquis. Duke, 'tis well spoken! Turn to good account The moment which presents itself but once! Truly this courtier reads a useful lesson If not in his sense good, at least in mine.

[Walks a few steps backwards and forwards.

How came I here? Is it caprice or chance That shows me now my image in this mirror? Why, out of millions, should it picture me-- The most unlikely--and present my form To the king's memory? Was this but chance? Perhaps 'twas something more!--what else is chance But the rude stone which from the sculptor's hand Receives its life? Chance comes from Providence, And man must mould it to his own designs. What the king wants with me but little matters; I know the business I shall have with him. Were but one spark of truth with boldness flung Into the despot's soul, how fruitful 'twere In the kind hand of Providence; and so What first appeared capricious act of chance, May be designed for some momentous end. Whate'er it be, I'll act on this belief.

[He takes a few turns in the room, and stands at last in tranquil contemplation before a painting. The KING appears in the neighboring room, where he gives some orders. He then enters and stands motionless at the door, and contemplates the MARQUIS for some time without being observed.