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Updated: September 11, 2025
I place him with the dead. The Marquis Posa! The Marquis Posa! I can scarce recall This person to mind. And doubly marked! A proof I destined him for some great purpose. How is it possible? This man, till now, Has ever shunned my presence still has fled His royal debtor's eye? The only man, By heaven, within the compass of my realm, Who does not court my favor.
Minor, for instance, writes in his book on Schiller: "Only in conjunction with Carlos does Posa represent Schiller's whole nature, the wild passion of the one is the expression of the sensual side, the noble exaltation of the other the stoical side of his nature.... Schiller has not drawn this figure from external nature; it has not come to him from without but he has taken it deep from his inner being."
Countess! see What it portends, and hasten back with speed. The QUEEN, PRINCESS EBOLI. Help! Help! O Queen! he's seized! QUEEN. Who? EBOLI. He's arrested By the king's orders given to Marquis Posa. QUEEN. Who is arrested? Who? EBOLI. The prince! QUEEN. Thou ravest EBOLI. This moment they are leading him away. QUEEN. And who arrested him? EBOLI. The Marquis Posa.
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. DON CARLOS; the MARQUIS POSA enters. CARLOS. At length once more, at length MARQUIS. Oh, what a trial For the impatience of a friend!
Of the political ideas which the world associates with 'Don Carlos' there is here no adumbration. We hear nothing of the Netherlanders, nor of the Inquisition, nor of the rights of man. Posa is only a friend of Carlos, not the ambassador of all mankind, and there is no room for his golden dreams of philanthropic statesmanship.
And dare I venture To interpret thee, as fain I would? He'd find Forgiveness, then, if now he should appear. Now, marquis, now? What do you mean by this? MARQUIS. Might he, then, hope? QUEEN. You terrify me, marquis. Surely he will not MARQUIS. He is here already. The QUEEN, CARLOS, MARQUIS POSA, MARCHIONESS MONDECAR. The two latter go towards the avenue.
What could unseat my Posa from my heart, If woman fail to do it? MARQUIS. I, myself! Say, could I love you, Carlos, warm as now, If I must fear you? CARLOS. That will never be. What need hast thou of me? What cause hast thou To stoop thy knee, a suppliant at the throne? Does gold allure thee? Thou'rt a richer subject Than I shall be a king! Dost covet honors?
The double intrigue of love and politics becomes toward the end very confusing. The confusion is increased by the unexpected turn given to the character of Posa, and reaches a climax when we learn from the Grand Inquisitor that he has been pulling all the strings from first to last, and that the entire tragedy was foreordained in the secret archives of the Holy Office.
For Heaven's sake, don't let's go in for romantic self-sacrifice, like Don Carlos and Marquis Posa. This is the nineteenth century; and if it's my business to die, I have got to do it." "And if it's my business to live, I have got to do that, I suppose. You're the lucky one, Rivarez." "Yes," the Gadfly assented laconically; "I was always lucky."
He became the teacher of the unripe Carlos, even as Koerner had been the teacher of the unripe Schiller; the subduer of unmanly emotionalism; the apostle of renunciation; the pointer of the way to great deeds; the prophet of a free humanity to come. In the brilliant light thus thrown upon Posa the other heroes were somewhat obscured.
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