The Purgatory of St. Patrick - Pedro Calderón de la Barca (best novels in english .TXT) 📗

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.


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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.


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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.

LUIS. My life and all I have I place, O Lord! in Thee. And so I trust me to the bark; But, O my soul! what sight is here, A coffin doth the bark appear; And I upon the waters dark Alone must cross the icy tide. [He enters.

POLONIA. Oh! turn not back, but follow and confide

LUIS [within]. I've conquered! sweet Polonia's shade, Since sight of thee has not undone My shuddering soul.

POLONIA. And I have won, Here in this Babylon delayed, O'er wrath and rage the victory.

LUIS [within]. Thy feigned resemblance does not frighten me, Though thou dost take a form Might tempt my steps astray And make me turn despairing from my way.

POLONIA. Thy fear doth badly thee inform, Poor to be brave and rich to be afraid, For I Polonia am, and not her shade, The same that thou didst slay, But who by God's decree Restored to life, even in this misery, Is happier far to-day.

LUIS [within]. Since I my sinful state Confess, and feel too well its fearful weight, Thy wrong, oh, pardon too!

POLONIA. I give it, and approve of thy design.

LUIS [within]. My faith, at least, I never will resign.

POLONIA. That grace will be thy safeguard.

LUIS [within]. Then, adieu!

POLONIA. Adieu!

LUIS [within]. May God in pity save.

POLONIA. And bring thee back victorious from the cave.


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SCENE VIII.

THE ENTRANCE OF A CONVENT - AT THE END THE CAVE OF PATRICK.

Two Canons Regular; afterwards Luis.

FIRST CANON. See, the waters of the lake Move although no breeze doth blow:* Without doubt to-day some pilgrim Roweth to this island shore.


[footnote] *Single asonante in the long accented o, which is kept up to the end of the Scene.


SECOND CANON. Come unto the strand to see Who can be so brave and bold As to seek our gloomy dwelling, Crossing the dark waters o'er.

[Enter LUIS. LUIS. Here my boat, my coffin, rather, On the billows I bestow. Who his sepulchre has ever Steered, as I, through fire and snow? What a pleasant spot is this! Here has Spring, methinks, invoked Flowers of high and low degree To assemble at her court. But this dismal mountain here, How unlike the plain below! Yet they are the better friends By the contrasts that they show. there the mournful birds of prey Hoarsely croak, presaging woe, Here the warblers in their joy Charm us with their tuneful notes. There the torrents leaping headlong Fright us with their frenzied roar, Here the crystal streamlets gliding Mirror back the sun's bright gold. Half way 'twixt that ugliness And this beauty, I behold A plain building whose grave front Fear and love at once provokes.

FIRST CANON. Happy wanderer, who here Hast arrived with heart so bold, Come