SCENE V.—_The garden under ALVARO’S castle. A large grated door in the
centre._
_Enter PRINCE, JUAN, LEONELO, and BELARDO._
_Prince_ (_to BELARDO_). You know your office; take this diamond by way of thanks.
_Bel._ I know little of diamonds but that they sell for less than you give for them. But this (_to JUAN_) is to be your post.
_Juan._ I am ready.
_Prince._ Remember, Spaniard, it is for _me_ you run this hazard, if there be any; I shall be close at hand to protect you. Be not frightened.
_Juan._ Your Highness does not know me: were it otherwise, danger cannot well appal him whom sorrows like mine have left alive.
_Bel._ And, another time—doubloons, not diamonds.
[_Exeunt PRINCE and LEONELO._
Here she mostly comes of an evening, poor lady, to soothe herself, walking and sitting here by the hour together. This is where you are to be. Go in; and mind you make no noise.
[_Puts JUAN into the grated door, and locks it._
_Juan_ (_through the grated window_). But what are you about?
_Bel._ Locking the door to make all sure.
_Juan._ But had it not better be unlockt in case—
_Bel._ Hush! she comes.
_Juan._ My palette then.
_Enter SERAFINA._
_Ser._ How often and how often do I draw My resolution out upon one side, And all my armed sorrows on the other, To fight the self-same battle o’er again!
_Juan._ He stands in the way; I cannot see her face.
_Bel._ Still weeping, madam?
_Ser._ Wonder not, Belardo: The only balm I have. You pity me: Leave me alone then for a while, Belardo; The breeze that creeps along the whispering trees Makes me feel drowsy.
_Juan_ (_to BELARDO, whispering_). She turns her head away, I cannot see her still.
_Ser._ What noise was that?
_Bel._ Madam?
_Ser._ I thought I heard a whisper.
_Bel._ Only The breeze, I think. If you would turn this way, I think ’twould blow upon you cooler.
_Ser._ Perhaps it will. Thank you. I am very miserable and very weary.
_Bel._ She sleeps: that is the lady. Make most of time.
[_Exit._
_Juan._ Yes. Now then for my pencil. Serafina! found at last! Whose place is this? The Prince? no! But the stray’d lamb being here, The wolf is not far off. She sleeps! I thought The guilty never slept: and look, some tears Still lingering on the white rose of her cheek. Be those the drops, I wonder, Of guilty anguish, or of chaste despair? This death-like image is the sculptor’s task, Not mine. Or is it I who sleep, and dream all this, And dream beside, that once before I tried To paint that face—the daylight drawing in As now—and when somehow the lamp was out, A man—I fail’d: and what love fail’d to do, Shall hate accomplish? She said then, if ever She suffer’d me to draw her face again, Might she die for it. Into its inmost depth Heav’n drew that idle word, and it returns In thunder.
_Ser._ (_dreaming_). Juan! Husband! on my knees. Oh Juan—slay me not!
_Enter ALVARO; she wakes and rushes to him._
Alvaro, Save me, oh save me from him!
_Alv._ So the wretch Thrives by another’s wretchedness. My love!
_Juan._ Alvaro, by the heavens!
_Alv._ Calm yourself; You must withdraw awhile. Come in with me.
_Juan._ Villain!
_Ser._ (_clinging to ALVARO_). What’s that?
_Juan_ (_shaking at the door_). The door is fast; Open it, I say!— Then die, thou and thy paramour!
[_Shoots a pistol at each through the grating.—Both fall; SERAFINA into the arms of BELARDO, who has come in during the noise.—Then directly enter DON LUIS, PEDRO, PORTIA._
_Luis._ What noise is this?
_Ser._ My father!—in your arms To die;—not by your hand—Forgive me—Oh!
[_Dies._
_Ped._ (_taking her in his arms_). My Serafina?
_Luis._ And Alvaro!
_Alv._ Ay, But do not curse me now!
[_Dies._
_Enter the PRINCE and LEONELO._
_Leon._ They must have found him out.
_Prince._ Whoever dares Molest him, answers it to me. Open the door. But what is this?
[_BELARDO unlocks the door._
_Juan_ (_coming out_). A picture— Done by the Painter of his own Dishonour In blood. I am Don Juan Roca. Such revenge As each would have of me, now let him take, As far as one life holds. Don Pedro, who Gave me that lovely creature for a bride, And I return to him a bloody corpse; Don Luis, who beholds his bosom’s son Slain by his bosom friend; and you, my lord, Who, for your favours, might expect a piece In some far other style of art than this: Deal with me as you list; ’twill be a mercy To swell this complement of death with mine; For all I had to do is done, and life Is worse than nothing now.
_Prince._ Get you to horse, And leave the wind behind you.
_Luis._ Nay, my lord, Whom should he fly from? not from me at least, Who loved his honour as my own, and would Myself have help’d him in a just revenge, Ev’n on an only son.
_Ped._ I cannot speak, But I bow down these miserable gray hairs To other arbitration than the sword; Ev’n to your Highness’ justice.
_Prince._ Be it so. Meanwhile—
_Juan._ Meanwhile, my lord, let me depart; Free, if you will, or not. But let me go, Nor wound these fathers with the sight of one, Who has cut off the blossom of their age: Yea, and his own, more miserable than all. They know me; that I am a gentleman, Not cruel, nor without what seem’d due cause Put on this bloody business of my honour; Which having done, I will be answerable Here and elsewhere, to all for all.
_Prince._ Depart In peace.
_Juan._ In peace! Come, Leonelo.
[_He goes out slowly, followed by LEONELO: and the curtain falls._
Some alterations of this play were made with a view to the English stage, where, spite of the slightness of many parts, I still think it might be tried.
Its companion play, the _Medico de su Honra_, is far more famous; has some more terrible, perhaps some finer, situations; but inferior, I think, in variety of scene, character, and incident.
It may add a little to the reader’s interest, as it did to mine, to learn from Mr. Ticknor, that Calderon wrote a ‘_Tratado defendiendo la nobleza de la Pintura_.’
KEEP YOUR OWN SECRET
DRAMATIS PERSONÆ
ALEXANDER _Prince of Parma._
NISIDA _his Sister._
DON CESAR _his Secretary._
DON ARIAS ⎫ ⎬ _Gentlemen of the Court._ DON FELIX ⎭
DONNA ANNA _Sister to Don Felix._
ELVIRA _her Maid._
LAZARO _Don Cesar’s Servant._