The Two Lovers of Heaven: Chrysanthus and Daria - Pedro Calderón de la Barca (microsoft ebook reader TXT) 📗

bleeding corse will show Wounds enough for myriad corses. [Exeunt Aurelius and Polemius.

CLAUDIUS. Good Escarpin . . .

ESCARPIN.
Sir.

CLAUDIUS.
I know not How to address you in my sorrow. Do you say that Cynthia was One of those not over-modest Beauties who to court Chrysanthus Hither came, and who (strange portent!) Had some share of his bewitchment In the stupor that came on them?

ESCARPIN. Yes, sir, and what 's worse, Daria Was another, thus the torment That we both endure is equal, If my case be not the stronger, Since to love her would be almost Less an injury than to scorn her.

CLAUDIUS. Well, I will not quarrel with you On the point (for it were nonsense) Whether one should feel more keenly Love or hate, disdain or fondness Shown to one we love; enough 'T is to me to know, that prompted Or by vanity or by interest, She came hither to hold converse With him, 't is enough to make me Lose the love I once felt for her.

ESCARPIN. Sir, two men, one bald, one squint-eyed, Met one day . . .

CLAUDIUS.
What, on your hobby? A new story?

ESCARPIN.
To tell stories, Sir, is not my 'forte', 'pon honour:- Though who would n't make a hazard When the ball is over the pocket?-

CLAUDIUS. Well, I do not care to hear it.

ESCARPIN. Ah, you know it then: Another Let me try: A friar once . . . Stay though, I have quite forgotten There are no friars yet in Rome: Well, once more: a fool . . .

CLAUDIUS.
A blockhead Like yourself, say: cease.

ESCARPIN.
Ah, sir, My poor tale do n't cruelly shorten. While the sacristan was blowing . . .

CLAUDIUS. Why, by heaven! I 'll kill you, donkey.

ESCARPIN. Hear me first, and kill me after.

CLAUDIUS. Was there ever known such folly As to think 'mid cares so grave I could listen to such nonsense? (exit. [Enter Chrysanthus and Daria, at opposite sides.]

DARIA (to herself). O ye gods, since my intention Was in empty air to scatter All these prodigies and wonders Worked in favour of Chrysanthus By the Christians' sorcery, why, Having you for my copartners, Do I not achieve a victory Which my beauty might make facile?

CHRYSANTHUS. O ye heavens, since my ambition Was to melt Daria's hardness, And to bring her to the knowledge Of one God who works these marvels, Why, so pure is my intention, Why, so zealous and so sanguine, Does not easy victory follow, Due even to my natural talent?

DARIA (aside). He is here, and though already Even to see him, to have parley With him, lights a living fire In my breast, which burns yet glads me, Yet he must confess my gods, Ere I own that I am vanquished.

CHRYSANTHUS (aside). She comes hither, and though I By her beauty am distracted, Still she must become a Christian Ere a wife's dear name I grant her.

DARIA (aside). Venus, to my beauty give Power to make of him my vassal.

CHRYSANTHUS (aside). Grant, O Lord, unto my tongue Words that may dispel her darkness.

DARIA (aside). To come near him makes me tremble.

CHRYSANTHUS (aside). To address her, quite unmans me:- Not in vain, O fair Daria, (aloud. Does the verdure of this garden, When it sees thee pass, grow young As beneath spring's dewy spangles; Not in vain, since though 't is evening, Thou a new Aurora dazzleth, That the birds in public concert Hail thee with a joyous anthem; Not in vain the streams and fountains, As their crystal current passes, Keep melodious time and tune With the bent boughs of the alders; The light movement of the zephyrs As athwart the flowers they 're wafted, Bends their heads to see thee coming, Then uplifts them to look after.

DARIA. These fine flatteries, these fine phrases Make me doubt of thee, Chrysanthus. He who gilds the false so well, Must mere truth find unattractive.

CHRYSANTHUS. Hast thou then such little faith In my love?

DARIA.
Thou needst not marvel.

CHRYSANTHUS. Why?

DARIA.
Because no more of faith Doth a love deserve that acteth Such deceptions.

CHRYSANTHUS.
What deceptions?

DARIA. Are not those enough, Chrysanthus, That thou usest to convince me Of thy love, of thy attachment, When my first and well-known wishes Thou perversely disregardest? Is it possible a man So distinguished for his talents, So illustrious in his blood, Such a favourite from his manners, Would desire to ruin all By an error so unhappy, And for some delusive dream See himself abhorred and branded?

CHRYSANTHUS. I nor talents, manners, blood, Would be worthy of, if madly I denied a Great First Cause, Who made all things, mind and matter, Time, heaven, earth, air, water, fire, Sun, moon, stars, fish, birds, beasts, Man then.

DARIA. Did not Jupiter, then, make heaven, Where we hear his thunders rattle?

CHRYSANTHUS. No, for if he could have made Heaven, he had no need to grasp it For himself at the partition, When to Neptune's rule he granted The great sea, and hell to Pluto;- Then they were ere all this happened.[12]

DARIA. Is not Ceres the earth, then?

CHRYSANTHUS.
No. Since she lets the plough and harrow Tear its bosom, and a goddess Would not have her frame so mangled.

DARIA. Tell me, is not Saturn time?

CHRYSANTHUS. He is not, though he dispatcheth All the children he gives birth to; To a god no crimes should happen.

DARIA. Is not Venus the air?

CHRYSANTHUS.
Much less, Since they say that she was fashioned From the foam, and foam, we know, Cannot from the air be gathered.

DARIA. Is not Neptune the sea?

CHRYSANTHUS.
As little, For inconstancy were god's mark then.

DARIA. Is not the sun Apollo?

CHRYSANTHUS.
No.

DARIA. The moon Diana?

CHRYSANTHUS.
All mere babble. They are but two shining orbs Placed in heaven, and there commanded To obey fixed laws of motion Which thy mind need not embarrass. How can these be called the gods- Gods adulterers and assassins! Gods who pride themselves for thefts, And a thousand forms of badness, If the ideas God and Sin Are opposed as light to darkness?- With another argument I would further sift the matter. Let then Jupiter be a god, In his own sphere lord and master: Let Apollo be one also: Should Jove wish to hurl in anger Down his red bolts on the world, And Apollo would not grant them, He the so-called god of fire; From the independent action Of the two does it not follow One of them must be the vanquished? Then they cannot be called gods, Gods whose wills are counteracted. One is God whom I adore . . . And He is, in fine, that martyr Who has died for love of thee!- Since then, thou hast said, so adverse Was thy proud disdain, one only Thou couldst love with love as ardent Almost as his own, was he Who would . . .

DARIA.
Oh! proceed no farther, Hold, delay thee, listen, stay, Do not drive my brain distracted, Nor confound my wildered senses, Nor convulse my speech, my language, Since at hearing such a mystery All my strength appears departed. I do not desire to argue With thee, for, I own it frankly, I am but an ignorant woman, Little skilled in such deep matters. In this law have I been born, In it have been bred: the chances Are that in it I shall die: And since change in me can hardly Be expected, for I never At thy bidding will disparage My own gods, here stay in peace. Never do I wish to hearken To thy words again, or see thee, For even falsehood, when apparelled In the garb of truth, exerteth Too much power to be disregarded. [Exit.

CHRYSANTHUS. Stay, I cannot live without thee, Or, if thou wilt go, the magnet Of thine eye must make me follow. All my happiness is anchored There. Return, Daria. . . .

(Enter Carpophorus.)

CARPOPHORUS.
Stay. Follow not her steps till after You have heard me speak.

CHRYSANTHUS.
What would you?

CARPOPHORUS. I would reprimand your lapses, Seeing how ungratefully You, my son, towards me have acted.

CHRYSANTHUS. I ungrateful!

CARPOPHORUS.
You ungrateful, Yes, because you have abandoned, Have forgotten God's assistance, So effectual and so ample.

CHRYSANTHUS. Do not say I have forgotten Or abandoned it, wise master, Since my memory to preserve it Is as 't were a diamond tablet.

CARPOPHORUS. Think you that I can believe you, If when having in this garment Sought you out to train and teach you, In the Christian faith and practice, Until deep theology You most learnedly have mastered; If, when having seen your progress, Your attention and exactness, I in secret gave you baptism, Which its mark indelibly stampeth; You so great a good forgetting, You for such a bliss so thankless, With such shameful ease surrender To this love-dream, this attachment? Did it strike you not, Chrysanthus, To that calling how contrasted Are delights, delirious tumults, Are love's transports and its raptures, Which you should resist? Recall too, Can you not? the aid heaven granted When you helped yourself, and prayed for Its assistance: were you not guarded By it