Alas, alas! dear Charles, I feel it all, The nameless pang that rages in your breast; Your pangs are infinite, as is your love, And infinite as both will be the glory Of overmastering both. Up, be a man, Wrestle with them boldly. The prize is worthy Of a young warrior's high, heroic heart; Worthy of him in whom the virtues flow Of a long ancestry of mighty kings. Courage! my noble prince! Great Charles's grandson Begins the contest with undaunted heart, Where sons of meaner men would yield at once. (CARLOS: Too late, too late! O God, it is too late!) Too late to be a man! O Carlos, Carlos! How nobly shows our virtue when the heart Breaks in its exercise! The hand of Heaven Has set you up on high,--far higher, prince, Than millions of your brethren. All she took From others she bestowed with partial hand On thee, her favorite; and millions ask, What was your merit, thus before your birth To be endowed so far above mankind? Up, then, and justify the ways of Heaven; Deserve to take the lead of all the world, And make a sacrifice ne'er made before.

Queen Monologue from Don Carlos: A Play

Rehearse Queen's monologue