Life Is a Dream - Pedro Calderón de la Barca (good books for high schoolers txt) 📗

cannot give the portrait
Thou dost ask for, since . . . .

ESTRELLA. A wretched
And false-hearted lover art thou.
Now I wish it not presented,
So to give thee no pretext
For reminding me that ever
I had asked it at thy hands.
[Exit.

ASTOLFO. Hear me! listen! wait! I remember! -
God, what has thou done, Rosaura?
Why, or wherefore, on what errand,
To destroy thyself and me
Hast thou Poland rashly entered?
[Exit.


* * * * *


SCENE XVI.

PRISON OF THE PRINCE IN THE TOWER.

SIGISMUND, as at the commencement, clothed in skins, chained, and
lying on the ground; CLOTALDO, Two Servants, and CLARIN.

CLOTALDO. Leave him here on the ground,
Where his day,- its pride being o'er,-
Finds its end too.

A SERVANT. As before
With the chain his feet are bound.

CLARIN. Never from that sleep profound
Wake, O Sigismund, or rise,
To behold with wondering eyes
All thy glorious life o'erthrown,
Like a shadow that hath flown,
Like a bright brief flame that dies!

CLOTALDO. One who can so wisely make
Such reflections on this case
Should have ample time and space,
Even for the Solon's sake,
[To the Servant.]
To discuss it; him you'll take
To this cell here, and keep bound.
[Pointing to an adjoining room]

CLARIN. But why me?

CLOTALDO. Because 'tis found
Safe, when clarions secrets know,
Clarions to lock up, that so
They may not have power to sound.

CLARIN. Did I, since you treat me thus,
Try to kill my father? No.
Did I from the window throw
That unlucky Icarus?
Is my drink somniferous?
Do I dream? Then why be pent?

CLOTALDO. 'Tis a clarion's punishment.

CLARIN. Then a horn of low degree,
Yea, a cornet I will be,
A safe, silent instrument.
[They take him away, and CLOTALDO remains alone.]


* * * * *


SCENE XVII.

BASILIUS, disguised; CLOTALDO, and SIGISMUND, asleep.

BASILIUS. Hark, Clotaldo!

CLOTALDO. My lord here?
Thus disguised, your majesty?

BASILIUS. Foolish curiosity
Leads me in this lowly gear
To find out, ah, me! with fear,
How the sudden change he bore.

CLOTALDO. There behold him as before
In his miserable state.

BASILIUS. Wretched Prince! unhappy fate!
Birth by baneful stars watched o'er!-
Go and wake him cautiously,
Now that strength and force lie chained
By the opiate he hath drained.

CLOTALDO. Muttering something restlessly,
See he lies.

BASILIUS. Let's listen; he
May some few clear words repeat.

SIGISMUND. [Speaking in his sleep.]
Perfect Prince is he whose heat
Smites the tyrant where he stands,
Yes, Clotaldo dies by my hands,
Yes, my sire shall kiss my feet.

CLOTALDO. Death he threatens in his rage.

BASILIUS. Outrage vile he doth intend.

CLOTALDO. He my life has sworn to end.

BASILIUS. He has vowed to insult my age.

SIGISMUND [still sleeping]. On the mighty world's great stage,
'Mid the admiring nations' cheer,
Valour mine, that has no peer,
Enter thou: the slave so shunned
Now shall reign Prince Sigismund,
And his sire he wrath shall fear.-
[He awakes.]
But, ah me! Where am I? Oh!-

BASILIUS. Me I must not let him see.
[To CLOTALDO.]
Listening I close by will be,
What you have to do you know.
[He retires.]

SIGISMUND. Can it possibly be so?
Is the truth not what it seemed?
Am I chained and unredeemed?
Art not thou my lifelong tome,
Dark old tower? Yes! What a doom!
God! what wondrous things I've dreamed!

CLOTALDO. Now in this delusive play
Must my special part be taken:-
Is it not full time to waken?

SIGISMUND. Yes, to waken well it may.

CLOTALDO. Wilt thou sleep the livelong day?-
Since we gazing from below
Saw the eagle sailing slow,
Soaring through the azure sphere,
All the time thou waited here,
Didst thou never waken?

SIGISMUND. No,
Nor even now am I awake
Since such thoughts my memory fill,
That it seems I'm dreaming still:
Nor is this a great mistake;
Since if dreams could phantoms make
Things of actual substance seen,
I things seen may phantoms deem.
Thus a double harvest reaping,
I can see when I am sleeping,
And when waking I can dream.

CLOTALDO. What you may have dreamed of, say.

SIGISMUND. If I thought it only seemed,
I would tell not what I dreamed,
But what I beheld, I may.
I awoke, and lo! I lay
(Cruel and delusive thing!)
In a bed whose covering,
Bright with blooms from rosy bowers,
Seemed a tapestry of flowers
Woven by the hand of Spring.
Then a crowd of nobles came,
Who addressed me by the name
Of their prince, presenting me
Gems and robes, on bended knee.
Calm soon left me, and my frame
Thrilled with joy to hear thee tell
Of the fate that me befell,
For though now in this dark den,
I was Prince of Poland then.

CLOTALDO. Doubtless you repaid me well?

SIGISMUND. No, not well: for, calling thee
Traitor vile, in furious strife
Twice I strove to take thy life.

CLOTALDO. But why all this rage 'gainst me?

SIGISMUND. I was master, and would be
Well revenged on foe and friend.
Love one woman could defend . . . . .
That, at least, for truth I deem,
All else ended like a dream,
THAT alone can never end.
[The King withdraws.]

CLOTALDO [aside]. From his place the King hath gone,
Touched by his pathetic words:-
[Aloud]
Speaking of the king of birds
Soaring to ascend his throne,
Thou didst fancy one thine own;
But in dreams, however bright,
Thou shouldst still have kept in sight
How for years I tended thee,
For 'twere well, whoe'er we be,
Even in dreams to do what's right.
[Exit.]


* * * * *


SCENE XVIII.

SIGISMUND. That is true: then let's restrain
This wild rage, this fierce condition
Of the mind, this proud ambition,
Should we ever dream again:
And we'll do so, since 'tis plain,
In this world's uncertain gleam,
That to live is but to dream:
Man dreams what he is, and wakes
Only when upon him breaks
Death's mysterious morning beam.
The king dreams he is a king,
And in this delusive way
Lives and rules with sovereign sway;
All the cheers that round him ring,
Born of air, on air take wing.
And in ashes (mournful fate!)
Death dissolves his pride and state:
Who would wish a crown to take,
Seeing that he must awake
In the dream beyond death's gate?
And the rich man dreams of gold,
Gilding cares it scarce conceals,
And the poor man dreams he feels
Want and misery and cold.
Dreams he too who rank would hold,
Dreams who bears toil's rough-ribbed hands,
Dreams who wrong for wrong demands,
And in fine, throughout the earth,
All men dream, whate'er their birth,
And yet no one understands.
'Tis a dream that I in sadness
Here am bound, the scorn of fate;
'Twas a dream that once a state
I enjoyed of light and gladness.
What is life? 'Tis but a madness.
What is life? A thing that seems,
A mirage that falsely gleams,
Phantom joy, delusive rest,
Since is life a dream at best,
And even dreams themselves are dreams.


* * * * *


ACT THE THIRD.

WITHIN THE TOWER.


* * * * *


SCENE I.

CLARIN. In a strange enchanted tower,
I, for what I know, am prisoned;*
How would ignorance be punished,
If for knowledge they would kill me?
What a thing to die of hunger,
For a man who loves good living!
I compassionate myself;
All will say: "I well believe it";
And it well may be believed,
Because silence is a virtue
Incompatible with my name
Clarin, which of course forbids it.
In this place my sole companions,
It may safely be predicted,
Are the spiders and the mice:
What a pleasant nest of linnets!-
Owing to this last night's dream,
My poor head I feel quite dizzy
From a thousand clarionets,
Shawms, and seraphines and cymbals,
Crucifixes and processions,
Flagellants who so well whipped them,
That as up and down they went,
Some even fainted as they witnessed
How the blood ran down the others.
I, if I the truth may whisper,
Simply fainted from not eating,
For I see me in this prison
All day wondering how this Poland
Such a 'Hungary' look exhibits,
All night reading in the 'Fasti'
By some half-starved poet written.**
In the calendar of saints,
If a new one is admitted,
Then St. Secret be my patron,
For I fast upon his vigil;
Though it must be owned I suffer
Justly for the fault committed,
Since a servant to be silent
Is a sacrilege most sinful.

[A sound of drums and trumpets, with voices within.]


*[footnote] The asonante to the end of Scene IV. is in i-e, or their
vocal equivalents.

**[footnote] These four lines are a paraphrase of the original.
Clarin's jokes are different, and not much better. He says he spends
his days studying philosophy in the works of 'Nicomedes' (or
'Not-eating'), and his nights perusing the decrees of the 'Nicene'
Council (Concilio 'Niceno', the Council of 'No-Supper').


* * * * *


SCENE II.

Soldiers and CLARIN.

FIRST SOLDIER [within]. He is here within this tower.
Dash the door from off its hinges;
Enter all

CLARIN: Good God! 'tis certain
That 'tis me they seek so briskly,
Since they say that I am here.
What can they require?

FIRST SOLDIER [within]. Go in there.
[Several Soldiers enter.

SECOND SOLDIER. Here he is.

CLARIN. He's not.

ALL THE SOLDIERS. Great lord!

CLARIN [aside]. Are the fellows mad or tipsy?

FIRST SOLDIER. Thou art our own Prince, and we
Will not have, and won't admit of,
Any but our natural Prince;
We no foreign Prince here wish for.
Let us kneel and kiss thy feet.

THE SOLDIERS. Live, long live our best of Princes!

CLARIN [aside.] 'Gad! the affair grows rather serious.
Is it usual in this kingdom
To take some one out each day,
Make him Prince, and then remit him
To this tower? It must be so,
Since each day that sight I witness.
I