A Carthusian Convent.
DON CARLOS and the PRIOR.

CARLOS
(to the PRIOR, as he comes in).
Been here already? I am sorry for it.

PRIOR.
Yes, thrice since morning. 'Tis about an hour
Since he went hence.

CARLOS.
But he will sure return.
Has he not left some message?

PRIOR.
Yes; he promised
To come again at noon.

CARLOS
(going to a window, and looking round the country).
Your convent lies
Far from the public road. Yonder are seen
The turrets of Madrid—just so—and there
The Mansanares flows. The scenery is
Exactly to my wish, and all around
Is calm and still as secrecy itself.
PRIOR.
Or as the entrance to another world.

CARLOS.
Most worthy sir, to your fidelity
And honor, have I now intrusted all
I hold most dear and sacred in the world.
No mortal man must know, or even suspect,
With whom I here hold secret assignation.
Most weighty reasons prompt me to deny,
To all the world, the friend whom I expect,
Therefore I choose this convent. Are we safe
From traitors and surprise? You recollect
What you have sworn.

PRIOR.
Good sir, rely on us.
A king's suspicion cannot pierce the grave,
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.
      &nbsp       &nbsp[Exit PRIOR.