The Purgatory of St. Patrick by Pedro Calderon de la Barca - HTML preview

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ACT THE THIRD.

 

A STREET.  IT IS NIGHT.

 

SCENE I.

 

JUAN PAUL, dressed ridiculously as a soldier, and LUIS ENIUS, very pensive.

 

PAUL.  Yes, the day would come I knew,

After long procrastination,

When a word of explanation

I should ask to have with you.

"Come with me," you said.  Though dark,

Off I trudged with heavy heart

To point out to you the part

Where at morn you could embark;

Then again, with thundering voice,

Thus you spoke, "Where I must fly

Choose to come with me, or die."

And, since you allowed a choice,

Of two ills I chose the worst,

Which, sir, was to go with you.

As your shadow then I flew

'Cross the sea to England first,

Then to Scotland, then to France

then to Italy and Spain,

Round the world and back again,

As in some fantastic dance.

Not a country great or small

Could escape you, 'till, good lack!

Here we are in Ireland back:--

Now, sir, I, plain Juan Paul,

Being perplexed to know what draws

You here now, with beard and hair

Grown so long, your speech, your air,

Changed so much, would ask the cause

Why you these disguises wear?

You by day ne'er leave the inn,

But when cold night doth begin

You a thousand follies dare,

Without bearing this in mind,

That we now are in a land

Wholly changed from strand to strand,

Where, in fact, we nothing find

As we left it.  The old king

Died despairing, and his heir,

Lesbia, now the crown doth wear,

For her sister, hapless thing!

Poor Polonia . . . .

 

LUIS.      Oh, that name

Do not mention!  do not kill me

By repeating what doth thrill me

To the centre of my frame

As with lightning.  Yes, I know

That at length Polonia died.

 

PAUL.  Yes; our host was at her side

(He himself has told me so)

When they found her dead, and . . . .

 

LUIS.      Cease!

Of her death, oh! speak no more,

'Tis sufficient to deplore,

And to pray that she's at peace.

 

PAUL.  Leaving heathen sin and crime,

All the people far and near

Are become good Christians here.

For one Patrick, who some time

Now is dead . . . .

 

LUIS.      Is Patrick dead?

 

PAUL.  So I from our host have heard.

 

LUIS [aside].  Badly have I kept my word!--

But proceed.

 

PAUL.      The teaching spread

Of the faith of Christ, and gave,

As a proof complete and whole

Of the eternity of the soul,

The discovery of a cave.--

Oh! it's the very name doth send

Terror through me.

 

LUIS.      Yes, I have heard

Of that cave, and every word

Made my hair to stand on end.

Those who in the neighbourhood

Dwell, see wonders every day.

 

PAUL.  Since, 'mid terror and dismay,

In your melancholy mood

You will no one hear or see,

Ever locked within your room,

It is plain you have not come

Aught to learn, how strange they be,

Of these things.  It doth appear

Other work you are about.

Satisfy my foolish doubt,

And say why we have come here.

 

LUIS.  to your questions thus I yield:

Yes, I forced you, as you mention,

From your house, and my intention

Was to kill you in the field;

But I thought it best instead

You to make my steps attend

As my comrade and my friend,

Shaking off the mortal dread

Which forbad me to endure

Any stranger, and in fine,

That your arms being joined with mine,

I might feel the more secure.

Many a land, both far and near,

Passing through you fared right well;

And now answering I will tell

Why it is that we come here.

And 'tis this: I come to slay

Here a man who did me wrong,

'Tis for this I pass along,

Muffled in this curious way,

Hiding country, dress, and name;

And the night suits best for me,

For my powerful enemy

Can the first position claim

In the land.  Since I avow

Why I hither have been led,

Listen now how I have sped

In my project until now.

I three days ago was brought

To this city in disguise,

For two nights, beneath the skies,

I my enemy have sought

In his street and at his door;

Twice a muffled figure came

And disturbed me in my aim,

Twice he called and stalked before

Him I followed in the street;

But when I the figure neared,

Suddenly he disappeared

As if wings were on his feet.

I this third night have brought you,

That should this mysterious shape

Come again, he sha'nt escape,

Being caught between us two;

Who he is we then can see.

 

PAUL.  Two? who are they?

 

LUIS.      You and I.

 

PAUL.  I'm not one.

 

LUIS.      Not one?  How?  Why?

 

PAUL.  No, sir, no.  I cannot be

One, nor half a one.  These stories

Faith! would frighten fifty Hectors;

What know I of Lady Spectres,

Or of Lord Don Purgatories?

All through life I've kept aloof

From the other world's affairs,

Shunning much superfluous cares;

But, my courage put to proof,

Bid me face a thousand men,

And if I don't cut and run

From the thousand, nay, from one,

Never trust to me again.

For I think it quite a case

Fit for Bedlam, if so high,

That a man would rather die,

Than just take a little race.

Such a trifle!  Sir, to me

Life is precious; leave me here,

Where you'd find me, never fear.

 

LUIS.  Here's the house; to-night I'll be,

Philip, your predestined fate.

Now we'll see if heaven pretends

To defend him, and defends.--

Watch here, you, beside the gate.

 

  * **

 

SCENE II.

A Muffled Figure. -- LUIS and PAUL.

 

PAUL.  There's no need to watch, for hither

Some one comes.

 

LUIS.      A lucky mortal

Am I, if the hour draws nigh

That will two revenges offer.*

Since this night there then will be

Naught to interrupt my project,

Slaying first this muffled figure

And then Philip.  Slow and solemn

Comes this man again.  I know him

By his gait.  But whence this horror

That comes o'er me as I see him,

This strange awe that chills, that shocks me?

 

[footnote]  *Asonante in o -- e to the end of Scene VIII.

 

 

THE FIGURE.  Luis Enius!

 

LUIS.      Sir, I've seen you

Here the last two nights; your object?

If you call me, wherefore fly thus?

If 'tis me you seek, why mock me

By retiring?

 

THE FIGURE.      Follow me,

Then you'll know my name.

 

LUIS.      I'm stopped here

In this street by a little business.--

To be quite alone imports me.--

Wherefore first by killing you

I'll be free to kill another

[He draws his sword, but merely cuts the air.

Draw, then, draw your sword or not,

Thus the needful path I shorten

To two acts of vengeance.  Heavens!

I but strike the air, cut nothing,

Sever nothing else.  Quick!  Paul,

Stop him as he stalks off yonder,

Near to you.

 

PAUL.      I'm bad at stopping.

 

LUIS.  Then your footsteps I will follow

Everywhere, until I learn

Who you are.  [Aside.]  (In vain his body

Do I strive to pierce.  Oh, heavens!

Lightnings flash from off my sword here;

But in no way can I touch him,

As if sword and arm were shortened.)

[Exit following the figure, striking at it without touching it.

 

  * **

 

 SCENE III.

PHILIP. -- PAUL.

 

PAUL [aside].  God be with you both!  But scarce

Has one vanished, when another

Comes to haunt me.  Why, I'm tempted

By strange phantoms and hobgoblins

Like another San Antonio:--

In this doorway I'll ensconce me,

Till my friend here kindly passes.

 

PHILIP.  Love, ambitious, bold, deep-plotted,

With the favours of a kingdom

Me thou mak'st a prosperous lover.

To the desert fled Polonia,

Where, mid savage rocks and forests,

Citizen of mighty mountains,

Islander of lonely grottoes,

She doth dwell, to Lesbia leaving

Crown and kingdom; through a stronger

Greed than love I Lesbia court,--

For a queen is worth my homage.

From her trellis I have come,

From a sweet and pleasant converse.

But, what's this?  Each night I stumble

On a man here at my doorstep.

Who is there?

 

PAUL [aside].      To me he's coming.

Why on earth should every goblin

Pounce on me?

 

PHILIP.      Sir, Caballero.

 

PAUL.  These are names I don't acknowledge;

He can't speak to ME.

 

PHILIP.      This house

Is my home.

 

PAUL.      Which I don't covet;

May you for an age enjoy it,

Without billets.

 

PHILIP.      If important

Business in this street detains you

(Not a word whereon I offer),

Give me room that I may pass.

 

PAUL [aside].  Somewhat timid, though quite proper,

Goblins can be cowards too.--

Yes, sir, for a certain office

I am here; go in, and welcome;

I no gentleman would stop here

 

Bound for bed, nor is it right.

 

PHILIP.  The condition I acknowledge.--

[Aside.

Well, fine spectres, to be sure,

Haunt this street: each night I notice

That a man here comes before me,

But when I approach him softly,

Hereabouts on my own threshold,

I, as now, have always lost him.

But what matters this to me?

[Exit.

 

[PAUL draws his sword and makes several flourishes.

PAUL.  As he's gone, the right and proper

Thing is this:-- Stay, stay, cold shadow,

Whether you're a ghost or ghostess,

I can't reach it.  Why, by heaven!

Air alone I cut and chop here.

But if this is he we wait for

In the night-time like two blockheads

Faith! he is a lucky fellow

To have got to bed so promptly.

But another noise I hear

Sounding from that dark street yonder.

'Tis of swords and angry voices:--

There I run to reconnoitre.

[Exit.

 

  * ***

 

 SCENE IV.

 ANOTHER STREET.

 The Muffled Figure and LUIS.

LUIS.  Sir, already we have issued

From that street; if aught there stopped us,

We are here alone, and may

Hand to hand resume the combat.

And since powerless is my sword

Thee to wound, I throw me on thee

To know who thou art.  Declare,

Art thou demon, man, or monster?

What! no answer?  Then I thus

Dare myself to solve the problem,

[He tears the cloak from the Figure, and finds beneath it a skeleton.

And find out . . . . Oh, save me, heaven!

God! what's this I see?  what horrid

Spectacle!  What frightful vision!

What death-threatening fearful portent!

Stiff and stony corse, who art thou?

That of dust and ashes formed

Now dost live?

THE FIGURE.      Not know thyself?

This is thy most faithful portrait;

I, alas! am Luis Enius.

[Disappears.*

[footnote] *The interview between Luis Enius and the Skeleton, says a recent writer, "is a scene truly Calderonic -- the hour, the place, the intended assassin, and the sudden reflection of himself, with his guilty conscience impersonate before him; it reminds us of that wild fable of Jeremy Taylor or Fuller, about the bird with a human face, that feeds on human flesh until it chances to see its reflection in a stream, and then it pines away for grief that it has killed its fellow." -- WESTMINSTER REVIEW, vol. liv. p. 306.

LUIS.  Save me, heaven! what words of horror!

Save me, heaven! what sight of woe!

Prey of shadows and misfortunes.

Ah, I die.

[He falls on the ground.

 

  * ***

 

 SCENE V.

 PAUL. -- LUIS.

 

PAUL.      It is the voice

Of my master.  Succour cometh

Opportunely now in me.

Sir!

 

LUIS.  Ah! why return, dread monster?

I am overwhelmed, I faint here

At your voice.

 

PAUL [aside].      God help his noddle!

He's gone mad! -- Dread monster?  No,

[Aloud.

I am Juan Paul, that donkey

Who, not knowing why or wherefore,

Is your servant.

 

LUIS.      Ah! good, honest

Paul, I knew you not, so frightened

Am I.  But at that why wonder,

If myself I do not know?

Did you see a fearful corse here,

A dead body with a soul,

An apparent man supported

By his skeleton alone,

Bones from which the flesh had rotted,

Fingers rigid, gaunt, and cold,

Naked trunk, uncouth, abhorrent,

Vacant spaces whence the eyes,

Having fallen, left bare the sockets?--

Whither has he gone?

 

PAUL.      If I

Saw that ghost, upon my honour,

I could never say I saw it;

For more dead than that dead body

I had fallen on the other side

At the moment.

 

LUIS.      And no wonder;

For my voice was mute, my breath

Choked, my heart's warm beat forgotten,

Clothed with ice were all my senses,

Shod with lead my feet, my forehead

Cold with sweat, I saw suspended

Heaven's two mighty poles upon me,

The brief Atlases sustaining

Such a burden being my shoulders.

It appeared as if there started

Rocks from every tender blossom,

Giants from each opening rose;

For the earth's disrupted hollows

Wished from out their graves to cast

Forth the dead who lay there rotten;

Ah, among them I beheld

Luis Enius!  Heaven be softened!

Hide me, hide me, from myself!

Bury me in some deep corner

Of earth's centre!  Let me never

See myself, since no self-knowledge

Have I had!  But now I have it;

Now I know I am that monster

Of rebellion, who defied,

In my madness, pride, and folly,

God Himself; the same, whose crimes

Are so numerous and so horrid,

That it were slight punishment,

If the whole wrath of the Godhead

Was outpoured on me, and whilst

God was God, eternal torments

I should have to bear in hell.

But I have this further knowledge,

They were done against a God

So divine, that He has promised

To grant pardon, if my sins

I with penitent tears acknowledge.

Such I shed; and, Lord, to prove

That to-day to be another

I begin, being born anew,

To Thy hands my soul I offer.

Not as a strict judge then judge me,

For the attributes of the Godhead

Are His justice and His mercy;

With the latter, not the former,

Judge me, then, and fix what penance

I shall do to gain that object.

What will be the satisfaction

Of my life?

 

[Music (within).  The Purgatory.

 

LUIS.  Bless me, heaven! what's this I hear?

A sweet strain divine and solemn;

It appears a revelation

From on high, since heaven doth often

Help mysteriously the sinner.

And since I herein acknowledge

A divine interposition,

I will go into the Purgatory,

Called, of Patrick, and fulfil,

Humbly, faithfully, the promise

Which I gave him long ago,

If it is my happy fortune

To see Patrick.  If the attempt

Is, as rumour hath informed me,

Most terrific, since no human

Strength avails against the horrors

Of the place, or resolution

To endure the demons' torments,

Still my sins I must remember

Were as dreadful.  Skilful doctors

Give for dangerous diseases

Dangerous remedies to stop them.--

Come, then, with me, Paul, and see

How here penitent and prostrate

At the bishop's feet I'll kneel,

And confess, for greater wonder,

All my awful sins aloud.

 

PAUL.  Go alone, then, for that project,

Since so brave a man as you are

Has no need of an accomplice;

And there's no one I have heard of

Who e'er went to hell escorted

By his servant.  I'll go home,

And live pleasantly in my cottage

Without care.  If ghosts there be,

I'm content with matrimony.

[Exit.

 

LUIS.  Public were my sins, and so

Public penance I will offer

In atonement.  Like one crazed,

Crying in the crowded cross-ways,

I'll confess aloud my crimes.

Men, wild beasts, rude mountains, forests,

Globes celestial, flinty rocks,

Tender plants, dry elms, thick coppice,

Know that I am Luis Enius,

Tremble at my name, that monster

Once of pride, as now I am

Of humility the wonder.

I have faith and certain hope

Of great happiness before me,

If in God's great name shall Patrick

Aid me in the Purgatory.

[Exit.

  * ***

 

SCENE VI.

 A WOOD, IN THE CENTRE OF WHICH IS SEEN A MOUNTAIN, FROM WHICH POLONIA DESCENDS.

POLONIA.

 

POLONIA.  To Thee, O Lord, my spirit climbs,

To Thee from every lonely hill

I burn to sacrifice my will

A thousand and a thousand times.

And such my boundless love to Thee

I wish each will of mine a living soul could be.

 

Would that my love I could have shown,

By leaving for Thy sake, instead

Of that poor crown that press'd my head,

Some proud, imperial crown and throne --

Some empire which the sun surveys

Through all its daily course and gilds with constant rays.

 

This lowly grot, 'neath rocks uphurled,

In which I dwell, though poor and small,

A spur of that stupendous wall,

The eighth great wonder of the world,

Doth in its little space excel

The grandest palace where a king doth dwell.

 

Far better on some natural lawn

To see the morn its gems bestrew,

Or watch it weeping pearls of dew

Within the white arms of the dawn;

Or view, before the sun, the stars

Drive o'er the brightening plain their swiftly-fading cars.

 

Far better in the mighty main,

As night comes on, and clouds grow grey,

To see the golden coach of day

Drive down amid the waves of Spain.

But be it dark, or be it bright,

O Lord!  I praise Thy name by day and night.

 

Than to endure the inner strife,

The specious glare, but real weight

Of pomp, and power, and pride, and state,

And all the vanities of life;

How would we shudder could we deem

That life itself, in truth, is but a fleeting dream.

 

*****

 

 SCENE VII.

LUIS. -- POLONIA.

LUIS [aside].  True to my purpose on I go,

With footsteps firm and bosom brave,

Seeking for that mysterious cave

Wherein the pitying heavens will show

How I salvation there may gain,

By bearing in this life the Purgatorial pain.

[To POLONIA.

Tell me, O holy woman! thou

Who in these wilds a home hast found,

A dweller in this mountain ground

Obedient to some sacred vow,

Which is the road to Patrick's cave,

Where penitential man his soul in life may save?

 

POLONIA.  O, happy traveller! who here

Hast come so far in storm and shine,

Within this treasury divine

To feel and find salvation near,

Well can I guide thee on thy way,

Since 'tis for this alone amid these wilds I stray.

 

Seest thou this mountain?

 

LUIS.      Ah! I see

My death in it.

 

POLONIA [aside].  My heart grows cold.

Ah! who is this that I behold?

 

LUIS [aside].  I cannot think it.  Is it she?

 

POLONIA [aside].      'Tis Luis, now I know.

 

LUIS [aside].  Perhaps illusion it may be

To baffle my intent, and lead

My erring feet astray. -- [to POLONIA}.  Proceed.

 

POLONIA [aside].  Say, can it be to conquer me

The common enemy doth send

This spectre here?

 

LUIS.      You do not speak.

 

POLONIA.            Attend.

This mighty mountain, rock bestrown,

Full well the dreaded secret knows;

But no one to its centre goes

By any path o'er land alone:

He who would see this wondrous cave

Must in a bark put forth and tempt the lake's dark wave.

 

[Aside.]  I struggle with a wish to wreak

Revenge, which pity doth subdue.

 

LUIS [aside].  It doth my happiness renew

Once more to see and hear her speak.

 

POLONIA [aside].  Within me opposite thoughts contend.

 

LUIS [aside].  Ah, me!  I die. -- You do not speak.

 

POLONIA.      Attend.

This darksome lake doth all surround

The lofty mountain's rugged base,

And so to reach the awful place

An easy passage may be found:

A sacred convent in the island stands,

Midway between the mountain and the sands.

 

Some pious priests inhabit there,

And for this task alone they live,

With loving zeal to freely give

The helping hand, the strengthening prayer --

Confession, and the Holy Mass,

And every needful help to all who thither pass.

 

Telling them what they first must do,

Before they dare presume to go,

Alive, within the realm of woe.--

[Aside.]  Let not this enemy subdue

My soul, O Lord!

 

LUIS [aside].      My hopes are fair.

Let me not feel, O Lord! the anguish of despair,

 

Seeing before my startled sight

My greatest, deepest crime arise;

Let not the fiend my soul that tries,

Subdue me in this dreadful fight.

 

POLONIA [aside].  'Gainst what a powerful foe must I defend

Myself to-day!

 

LUIS.      You do not speak.

 

POLONIA.            Attend.

 

LUIS.  With quicker speed your story tell,

For well I know my soul hath need

That I should go with swifter speed!

 

POLONIA.  And me it doth import as well

That you should go away.

 

LUIS.      Agreed.

Now, woman, point the way to where my path doth lead.

 

POLONIA.  No one accompanied can brave

The terrors of this gloomy lake;

And so a skiff you needs must take,

And try alone the icy wave;

Being in that most trying strait

The absolute master of your acts and fate.

 

Come where within a secret cave

Beside the shore the boat doth lie,

And trusting in the Lord on high,

Embark upon the crystal wave

Of this remote lone inland sea.