SCENE I. The Royal Gardens in Aranjuez. CARLOS and DOMINGO. DOMINGO.Our pleasant sojourn in AranjuezIs over now, and yet your highness quitsThese joyous scenes no happier than before.Our visit hath been fruitless. Oh, my prince,Break this mysterious and gloomy silence!Open your heart to your own father's heart!A monarch never can too dearly buyThe peace of his own son—his only son.[CARLOS looks... more...

SCENE I. Sutlers' tents—in front, a Slop-shop. Soldiers of all colors anduniforms thronging about. Tables all filled. Croats and Hulanscooking at a fire. Sutler-woman serving out wine. Soldier-boysthrowing dice on a drum-head. Singing heard from the tent. Enter a Peasant and his Son. SON.Father, I fear it will come to harm,So let us be off from this soldier swarm;But boist'rous mates will... more...

The reason passes, like the heart, through certain epochs and transitions, but its development is not so often portrayed. Men seem to have been satisfied with unfolding the passions in their extremes, their aberration, and their results, without considering how closely they are bound up with the intellectual constitution of the individual. Degeneracy in morals roots in a one-sided and wavering... more...

BOOK I. FROM THE PAPERS OF COUNT O——— I am about to relate an adventure which to many will appear incredible, but of which I was in great part an eye-witness. The few who are acquainted with a certain political event will, if indeed these pages should happen to find them alive, receive a welcome solution thereof. And, even to the rest of my readers, it will be, perhaps, important as a... more...

SCENE I. THIBAUT D'ARC. His Three Daughters. Three young Shepherds,their Suitors. THIBAUT.Ay, my good neighbors! we at least to-dayAre Frenchmen still, free citizens and lordsOf the old soil which our forefathers tilled.Who knows whom we to-morrow must obey?For England her triumphal banner wavesFrom every wall: the blooming fields of FranceAre trampled down beneath her chargers' hoofs;Paris... more...

SCENE I. A spacious hall, supported on columns, with entrances on both sides;at the back of the stage a large folding-door leading to a chapel. DONNA ISABELLA in mourning; the ELDERS OF MESSINA. ISABELLA.Forth from my silent chamber's deep recesses,Gray Fathers of the State, unwillinglyI come; and, shrinking from your gaze, upliftThe veil that shades my widowed brows: the lightAnd glory of my days... more...

Now first translated into English. This play is to be regarded merely as a dramatic narrative in which, for the purpose of tracing out the innermost workings of the soul, advantage has been taken of the dramatic method, without otherwise conforming to the stringent rules of theatrical composition, or seeking the dubious advantage of stage adaptation. It must be admitted as somewhat inconsistent that... more...

SCENE I. MILLER—MRS. MILLER. MILLER (walking quickly up and down the room). Once for all! The affair is becoming serious. My daughter and the baron will soon be the town-talk—my house lose its character—the president will get wind of it, and—the short and long of the matter is, I'll show the younker the door. MRS MILLER. You did not entice him to your house—did not thrust your daughter... more...