Great God! and is this all--is this the fruit
Of a momentous hour so long desired!
[After some thought, in a milder tone.
Oh, speak to me more kindly--send me not
Thus comfortless away--dismiss me not
With this afflicting answer, oh, my father!
Use me more tenderly, indeed, I need it.
This is the last resource of wild despair--
It conquers every power of firm resolve
To beat it as a man--this deep contempt--
My every suit denied: Let me away--
Unheard and foiled in all my fondest hopes,
I take my leave. Now Alva and Domingo
May proudly sit in triumph where your son
Lies weeping in the dust. Your crowd of courtiers,
And your long train of cringing, trembling nobles,
Your tribe of sallow monks, so deadly pale,
All witnessed how you granted me this audience.
Let me not be disgraced. Oh, strike me not
With this most deadly wound--nor lay me bare
To sneering insolence of menial taunts!
"That strangers riot on your bounty, whilst
Carlos, your son, may supplicate in vain."
And as a pledge that you would have me honored,
Despatch me straight to Flanders with the army.

KING.
Urge thy request no farther--as thou wouldst
Avoid the king's displeasure.