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

Unto me by Heaven I know not, Being so useless), with expanded Arms, struck out, but not alone My own life to save, nay rather In the attempt to save this brave Young man here, that life to barter; For I know not by what secret Instinct towards him I'm attracted; And I think he yet will pay me Back this debt with interest added. Finally, through Heaven's great pity We at length have happily landed, Where my misery may expect it, Or my better fate may grant it; Since we are your slaves and servants, That being moved by our disasters, That being softened by our weeping, Our sore plight may melt your hardness, Our affliction force your kindness, And our very pains command you.***


[footnote] * The asonante in a - e, or their vocal equivalents, commences here, and is continued to the commencement of the speech of Enius, when it changes to the asonante in e - e, which is kept up through the remainder of the Scene, and to the end of Scene III.

[footnote] ** "Empthor" - see note on this name.

[footnote] *** See note for some extracts from Montalvan's "Vida y Purgaterio de San Patricio".


KING. Silence, miserable Christian, For my very soul seems fastened On thy words, compelling me, How I know not, to regard thee With strange reverence and fear, Thinking thou must be that vassal - That poor slave whom in my dream I beheld outbreathing flashes, Saw outflashing living fire, In whose flame, so lithe and lambent, My Polonia and my Lesbia Like poor moths were burned to ashes.

PATRICK. Know, the flame that from my mouth Issued, is the true Evangel, Is the doctrine of the Gospel:- 'Tis the word which I'm commanded Unto thee to preach, O King! To thy subjects and thy vassals, To thy daughters, who shall be Christians through its means.

KING. Cease, fasten Thy presumptuous lips, vile Christian, For thy words insult and stab me.

LESBIA. Stay!

POLONIA. And wilt thou in thy pity Try to save him from his anger?

LESBIA. Yes.

POLONIA. Forbear, and let him die.

LESBIA. Thus to die by a king's hands here Were unjust. [Aside.] (It is my pity For these Christians prompts my answer.)

POLONIA. If this second Joseph then, Like the first one, would unravel, Would interpret the king's dreams, Do not dread the result, my father; For if my being seen to burn Indicates in any manner I should ever be a Christian, As impossible a marvel Such would be, as if, being dead, I could rise and live thereafter. But in order that your mind May be turned from such just anger, Let us hear now who this other Stranger is.

LUIS. Then be attentive, Beautiful divinity, For my history thus commences:- Great Egerius, King of Ireland, I by name am Luis Enius, And a Christian also, this Being the sole point of resemblance Betwixt Patrick and myself, Yet a difference presenting: For although we two are Christians, So distinct and so dissevered Are we, that not good from evil Is more opposite in its essence. Yet for all that, in defence Of the faith I believe and reverence, I would lose a thousand lives (Such the esteem for it I cherish). Yes, by God! The oath alone Shows how firmly I confess Him. I no pious tales or wonders, Worked in my behalf by Heaven, Have to speak of: no; dark crimes, Robberies, murders, sacrileges, Treasons, treacheries, betrayals, Must I tell instead, however Vain it be in me to glory In my having such effected. I in one of Ireland's many Isles was born; the planets seven, I suspect, in wild abnormal Interchange of influences, Must have at my hapless birth-time All their various gifts presented. Fickleness the Moon implanted In my nature; subtle Hermes With and genius ill-employed; (Better ne'er to have possessed them); Wanton Venus gave me passions - All the flatteries of the senses, And stern Mars a cruel mind (Mars and Venus both together What will they not give?); the Sun Gave to me an easy temper, Prone to spend, and when means failed me Theft and robbery were my helpers; Jupiter presumptuous pride, Thoughts fantastic and unfettered, Gave me; Saturn, rage and anger, Valour and a will determined On its ends; and from such causes Followed the due consequences. Here from Ireland being banished, By a cause I do not mention Through respect to him, my father Came to Perpignan, and settled In that Spanish town, when I Scarce my first ten years had ended, And when sixteen came, he died. May God rest his soul in heaven!- Orphaned, I remained the prey Of my passions and my pleasures, O'er whose tempting plain I ran Without rein or curb to check me. The two poles of my existence, On which all the rest depended For support, were play and women. What a base on which to rest me! Here my tongue would not be able To acquaint you 'in extenso' With my actions: a brief abstract May, however, be attempted. I, to outrage a young maiden, Stabbed to death a noble elder, Her own father: for the sake Of his wife, a most respected Cavalier I slew, as he Lay beside her in the helpless State of sleep, his honour bathing In his blood, the bed presenting A sad theatre of crimes, Murder and adultery blended. Thus the father and the husband Life for honour's sake surrendered; For even honour has its martyrs. May God rest their souls in heaven!- Dreading punishment for this, I fled hastily, and entered France, where my exploits, methinks, Time will cease not to remember; For, assisting in the wars Which at that time were contended Bravely betwixt France and England, I took military service Under Stephen, the French king, And a fight which chance presented Showed my courage to be such, That the king himself, as guerdon Of my valour, gave to me The commission of an ensign. How that debt I soon repaid, I prefer not now to tell thee. Back to Perpignan, thus honoured, I returned, and having entered Once a guard-house there to play, For some trifle I lost temper, Struck a serjeant, killed a captain, And maimed others there assembled. At the cries from every quarter Speedily the watch collected, And in flying to a church, As they hurried to prevent me, I a catch-pole killed. ('Twas something One good work to have effected 'Mid so many that were bad.) May God rest his soul in heaven!- Far I fled into the country, And asylum found and shelter In a convent of religious, Which was founded in that desert, Where I lived retired and hidden, Well taken care of and attended. For a lady there, a nun, Was my cousin, which connection Gave to her the special burden Of this care. My heart already Being a basilisk which turned All the honey into venom, Passing swiftly from mere liking To desire - that monster ever Feeding on the impossible - Living fire that with intensest Fury burns when most opposed - Flame the wind revives and strengthens, False, deceitful, treacherous foe Which doth murder its possessor - In a word, desire in him, Who nor God nor law respecteth, Of the horrible, of the shocking, Thinks but only to attempt it.- Yes, I dared . . . . But here disturbed, When, my lord, I this remember, Mute the voice in horror fails, Sad the accent faints and trembles, And as 'mid the night's dark shadows, The hair stands on end through terror; Thus confused, so full of doubt, Sad remembrance so o'erwhelms me, That the thing I dared to do I scarce dare in words to tell thee. For, in fine, my crime is such, So to be abhorred, detested, So profane, so sacrilegious (Strange upon thee so to press it), That for having such committed I at times feel some repentance. Well, in fine, I dared one night, When deep silence had erected Sepulchres of fleeting sleep For men's overwearied senses, When a dark and cloudy veil Heaven had o'er its face extended - Mourning which the wind assumed For the sun whose life had ended - In whose obsequies the night-birds Swan-notes sang instead of verses, And when back from waves of sapphire, Where their beauty was reflected, The clear stars a second time Trembling lights to heaven presented:- Well, on such a night, by climbing O'er the garden wall, I entered With the assistance of two friends (For when such things are attempted An associate never fails), And in horror and in terror, Seeking in the dark my death, Reached at length the cell (I tremble To remember it) in which Was my cousin, whom respectful Silence bids me not to name, Though all self-respect has left me. Frightened at such nameless horror, On the hard floor she fell senseless, When she passed into my arms, And ere she regained her senses, She already was outside Her asylum, in a desert, When if heaven possessed the power, It had not the will to help her. Women, when they are persuaded That the wildest of excesses Are the effects of love, forgive them Easily; and, therefore, pleasure Following tears, some consolation In her miseries was effected; Though, in fact, they were so great, That united in one person She saw violence, violation, Incest, nay, adultery even, Against God who was her spouse, And a sacrilege most dreadful. Finally we left that place, Being carried to Valencia By two steeds that well might claim From the winds to be descended: Feigning that she was my wife, But with little peace we dwelt there; For I quickly having squandered Whatsoever little treasure I brought with me, without friends, p 260 Without any hope of help there, In my dire distress appealed To the beauty still so perfect Of my poor pretended wife: If for aught I did I ever Could feel shame, this act alone Would most surely overwhelm me; Since it is the lowest baseness That the vilest breast descends to, To put up to sale one's honour, And to trade in love's caresses. Scarce with shameless front had I This base plan to her suggested, When concealing her design She gave seeming acquiescence; But I scarce had turned my back, Hardly had I left her presence, When she, flying from me, found Grace a convent's walls to enter. There, a holy monk advising, She a saving port and shelter Found against the world's wild storms, And there died, her sin, her penance, Giving all a great example; May God rest her soul in heaven!- Seeing that the narrow world Now took note of my offences, And that soon the very land Might reject me, I determined To re-seek my native country; For at least I there expected To be safer from my foes, In a place so long my centre And my home. The way I took And to Ireland came, which welcomed Me at first as would a mother, But a step-mother resembled Before long, for seeking a passage Where a harbour lay protected By a mole, I found that corsairs Lay concealed within the shelter Of a little creek which his Out of view their well-armed vessel. And of these, their captain, Philip, Took me prisoner, after efforts Made in my defence so brave, That in deference to the mettle I displayed, my life he spared. What ensured you know already, How the wind in sudden anger Rising into raging tempest, Now chastised us in its pride, Now our lives more cruelly threatened, Making in