Certainty for a Doubt, A - Act First
Don E NRIQUE . Beautiful shore!
R AMIRO . A thousand sportive nymphs
Consort upon the strand.
Don E NRIQUE . This is the night
And festival of our good patron John,
Fiesta of Sevilla. All the city
Is of a rare and most extreme perfection.
R AMIRO . And all this good attends upon your will;
For where good is, 'tis good to be, sir, still.
Don E NRIQUE . Come give a share to love by whom we live.
Singing, playing and dancing within.
R AMIRO . Soft voices call.
Don E NRIQUE . And here is dancing, too.
R AMIRO . Dark daughters of the night, they sing their songs,
But the black morning tempers our delight.
Singing within and tambourines.
" River of Sevilla,
How fair and soft you flow,
Whitened by your galleys
With emerald oars that row!"
King . I never saw so beautiful a sight.
Master . Sometimes desire may make the judgment droop,
Although it never fall below the plane
Of honor.
King . Master, in the night all things
Seem equal; for the mantle of the dark
Obscures and covers all that eye can see.
This field of flowers has odor but no hue,
So in the night men have this difference too.
Don E NRIQUE . R AMIRO . Is it the King?
R AMIRO . And with him comes your brother,
The Master.
Don E NRIQUE . Best retire. Enough for me
He hunts along with him.
R AMIRO . He loves him well.
Don E NRIQUE . Not without reason.
King . Two men have muffled up themselves i' the dark.
Look, Mendo. Who are they?
M ENDO . The Count, I think.
King .Going over to theC OUNT . Enrique! What! So cautious? Fearing me?
Don E NRIQUE . Senor, till now I thought you were the one
Who wished to hide and shield his face from me.
King . You ill requite the just warmth of my love.
Where are you going by this riverside?
Don E NRIQUE . Your Majesty will judge my aim amiss ...
King . An inconvenient thing, nobility,
At this hour of the night.
Don E NRIQUE . My lord, it is;
Its property is such one never knows
Just what one ought with it.
King . Swell up with pride,
My lord — at least you know no equal here.
Don E NRIQUE . Senor, in God's name I have come to-night
Only to listen and observe the scene.
M ENDO . Do not accuse the Count of o'er presumption;
His modesty will swiftly swallow up
And hide all trace of good in him.
King . Retiring?
And so I think and so men tell me too.
An end then! How? What sport?
Don E NRIQUE . Guitars and voices,
Songs heard and tambourines, threats, follies, brawls,
And with this fellow in my company
I have laid bare the breasts of four.
King . Such deeds
Can they be done in Spain? Who is this man
That he attempts like wonders at your side?
Don E NRIQUE . Ramiro follows me.
King . I would have sworn it.
R AMIRO . My master's second.
King . No!
R AMIRO . Alas, my lord,
I cannot prove my prowess upon you!
King . I know your mettle.
R AMIRO . Two things, my lord, they say
Have been excuses since the world began.
King . Which are?
R AMIRO . With man a woman, the servant with his lord.
In a good early hour did Adam say
A woman had deceived him; for since he blamed her
All blame her since. And so with masters too
The custom is the same. Is't not their fault
When the poor servant has committeDone?
King . Excuse too frigid for your sin. — Enrique,
Come lead us where we may be entertained.
Our quest to-night's the same.
Don E NRIQUE . In God's name, Sire,
How can we mate the follies of this scene
With grandeur such as yours, unless mayhap
You will take pleasure in the prayers and vain
Illusive hopes, and what else fabulous,
Wherewith the maids delight, betrothed this eve
And wed in sport to good St. John?
R AMIRO . The why
I'll tell you first, and then we'll turn to them.
King . Why then?
R AMIRO . The lamb's John's symbol?
King . Yes?
R AMIRO . Then this
They take to be their husbands' symbol too;
The main thing is to have them tame.
King . Tut, man!
Such folly passes belief. — You know the houses
Where with your master, Mendo, you resort
And sometimes pass the night?
Master . Mendo, my liege,
Knows nothing of the sort to please your taste.
King . Is there no discreet beauty well disposed
To give us welcome?
M ENDO . At this hour all are busy,
That is the better part of them; the maids
In prayer and hope, the wives in fascinations.
R AMIRO . What Mendo says I second; one of them,
And of the latter sort, enchanting me,
Proffered a vessel wherein I should see
Her throw a certain egg at the twelfth hour,
And then great things should be!
Don E NRIQUE . Great lies!
King . Great wonders!
Master . Hell fire consume and burn them all, amen!
How ill a use they make of the festival
Of this great saint!
King . No talent in a woman
Can so defame her name as this same bent
Toward fascination.
R AMIRO . Fascinations are
Like paint, illusions of the face of woman.
The tender years Aurora are and morning;
And then what woman paints? The very flower
Of her own youth delights her, the very bloom
Of her own days must make her amorous.
But as the noon comes on, false lights appear,
Because her own no longer hold the gleam
That in the morn they showed. And with them too
Make entry follies and all fascinations
To overpower desire, that she herself
No longer overpowers. Have you not seen
Carnations made of silk, and others too
Carnations that were born? So then to me
A painted face is painted, and painted still
Although men sell it in the market place.
It seems a flower,
It was not grown in nature's bower
But bought and paid for sprang into her face.
King . That sometimes happens.
R AMIRO . A reverend sage once said
That when the darkness of the night drew on
All women were the same.
King . He had in mind
The body, not then thinking of the soul.
Don E NRIQUE . Ha? Epicurus, I suppose?
R AMIRO . I'd swear
That Plutarch said it.
King . Enough I say
Of dull philosophies — they weary me;
And I am weary of dispraise of women.
The ugly, poor and vain make them out harpies,
Whom could they win and merit muster once
To do their service, they never would make end
Of sounding praises and honor like unending.
Now by my soul, where women are removed
There is no joy in all the world to-day!
Man knows no solace and no company
Like that which woman gives. She is the nurse
And doctor too of body and of soul.
Don E NRIQUE . You speak the truth, her changeable estate
Not running into vanities and show.
King . What man can equal her?
M ENDO . No obstacle
Impedes a woman. What she asks we give.
R AMIRO . A lovely creature when she does not ask,
And when she does a bolDone.
King . Enough! — Enrique,
You have some purpose here. What, man! Unmask!
Don E NRIQUE . My lord, I fly from the pursuit of women.
King . No, speak the truth!
Don E NRIQUE . The respect I owe to you ...
King . Now on my life! ...
Don E NRIQUE . Since you invoke your life
I am obliged to exalt it o'er my secret.
I have, my liege, two loves — one possible
To my desire, impossible the other;
For so by tokens honorable and high
I truly believe.
King . This love impossible
Strikes me with envy of the Count. Oh heaven,
How is it our desires should be so dull
That love must sicken ere the goal is won?
Impossible you say and high? How so?
Don E NRIQUE . Pardon the impossible. With her to me
In thought and act no thing is possible.
King . He hits me closer; I both breathe and burn.
At least the possible we are to know?
Don E NRIQUE . The possible, my lord, is close at hand.
King . Here?
Don E NRIQUE . This is the house.
King . Call then.
Don E NRIQUE . You call, Ramiro.
R AMIRO . Hello! Ho in the house! You know me, wench,
Who's at the door. — The devil do her brown!
I'll give a sigh for whistle.
J USTA. Familiar sound,
Ramiro. I come out to my decoy-bird.
R AMIRO . My Master waits — say this to Teodora —
Count Don Enrique.
J USTA. To-night we both are busy.
I pray you but excuse us for to-night,
If you would do a favor ...
R AMIRO. But he's here;
And hark you, Justa, it is twelve o'clock.
Do not deprive yourself of the rich gift
Which I have promised you.
J USTA. Now you take care.
R AMIRO. Like all the rest who have to do with you.
Justa will warn her mistress you are here.
King. Is Teodora fair?
Don E NRIQUE. How can I tell?
For when one looks on women without love
He is not like to have the eyes to see.
T EODORA. There is no time reserved for the Count my master.
Don E NRIQUE. What, Teodora? None?
T EODORA. O noble Enrique,
Thou honor of Castile! ...
Don E NRIQUE. You're occupied?
But you must grant me first a special favor.
T EODORA. With you, indeed, I can have no excuse
Nor occupation.
Who are these muffled men?
Don E NRIQUE. Two friends who wait upon you.
T EODORA. Upon me?
Don E NRIQUE. My brothers, the King and Master. Serve them well
And in such sort, I pray, to captivate
Their royal pleasure. Meanwhile I retire,
Humbly before them.
T EODORA. No, to look at you
Is more to me than all that they can give.
Don E NRIQUE. My life depends upon it. Hold them here
A little while.
T EODORA. Promise to see me later.
I'll do it, Count, for you.
Don E NRIQUE. I pledge my word. —
Ramiro ...
R AMIRO. Master? ...
Don E NRIQUE. Come.
King. She turns upon us.
I wonder, brother, does she yet suspect
It is the King?
T EODORA. Unmask, Your Highness.
Although the brightness of the sun may blind me,
Your splendor never will acquire a stain
From my humility.
Master. This is the King;
Address this sun if you would see it shine.
T EODORA. If not the sun, oh, then you are, great Master,
The brightest ray in Spain!
A ray, my lord,
Has told me that you are the sun.
King. And you,
Sweet Teodora, Aurora of this sun.
T EODORA. Such light dismays me. Stay in heaven, my liege,
And bless Castile with day for many years.
King. At twelve o'clock what is the proper sport?
T EODORA. To rise and bid good-morning to Sevilla
Which at this hour begins to live.
King. Well said.
This is a night all festival and song.
T EODORA. To go to bed shows want of health or taste.
King. You play and sing?
T EODORA. Your Majesty, I do.
So please you to be seated.
King. Where is Enrique?
T EODORA. He will return, and act as your escort
To fetch you in the morning. He summons help
In the entertainment of Your Majesty.
King. By whose command?
T EODORA. My liege, but has he gone?
King. Outwitted!
By God, deceived! Deserted here! ...
Up, Master! On!
These beardless students' tricks
Exhibit all the art of the past-master.
Master. What is to be done? You seem downcast ...
King. Unfortunate and blind!
Master. Unfortunate?
King. Is jealousy good fortune?
Master. Nay, my liege,
When heaven is ever prodigal with you! ...
King. Know if I have no other cause for pain,
My will is to be sad.
Brother Enrique,
What right or license have you to deceive me?
T EODORA. A royal mystery!
J USTA. But don't you see?
He's jealous of Enrique.
T EODORA. Perplexed in truth
Because a greater, nobler majesty
Casts love before his feet! Meanwhile 'tis meet
The King be entertained.
J USTA. The King suspects.
T EODORA. And I have lost the gift he promised me.
J USTA. What faith is there in jealousy or love?
T EODORA. But my complaint is just and will endure.
To rob the King of his most royal pleasure
They have robbed me of royal grace and favor.
D OÑA J UANA. Sweet cousin, I have offered up this prayer
To learn the Count's intention in his suit.
Is he to marry me? Or will the King
Prevent him?
D OÑA I NÉS. But why should the King prevent?
D OÑA J UANA. Because he too might marry. And no law
Exists in High Castile to forbid Kings
The daughters of their vassals.
D OÑA I NÉS. How shall I say,
Noting your preference, yet with respect,
Whether or not 'tis fortune to be sought
By kings in marriage? The poor revenues
My Lord the Adelantado can dispose
Unequal are to the measure of high birth.
And yet I never could forgive myself
Did I not warn you madness 'tis to shun
Good-fortune when it comes.
D OÑA J UANA. But my excuse
Is the extremity of love, so sore
It would absolve me were it freely painted.
Though love may be a stranger to the heart,
It is no stranger to intelligence.
You have read stories of women who have loved?
D OÑA I NÉS. But love is no excuse for foolishness,
Rather presumption.
D OÑA J UANA. How is my love foolish?
Is not the Count the brother of the King?
D OÑA I NÉS. You answer with an argument beside
The question of his worth.
D OÑA J UANA. Has he not wit
And judgment, bearing, figure, force? You're mad!
D OÑA I NÉS. And you lack sense, blinded by love, while I,
A mere spectator, one that plays no part,
More clearly understand.
D OÑA J UANA. You understand
How justly then his worth inflames my heart,
Until the stars themselves look jealously
On him anDon my love.
D OÑA I NÉS. If I speak ill,
O heaven, of Count Enrique, 'tis because
I die of love for him!
D OÑA J UANA. I have no mind
To question your advice. What matters it
Whether he pleases you? He pleases me.
D OÑA I NÉS. Who can persuade you?
D OÑA J UANA. So I built this altar
To good St. John, and robbed the garden-side
Of all its flowers; and from the orange trees
That were the tallest, plucked the orange blooms.
Then from the Alameda I brought sprigs
Of elms, until this room has been transformed
By me into a wood, which now you see.
Sweet odors mix and perfume all the air
While banked about with many a breathing flower
In panoply of diamonds stands St. John,
Arches of flowers above him, which though false
Yet do no violence to those which shine
By right of nature marvels of perfume,
The others set beside. Thus all may see
Fair Seville has no cause to hide her head
Nor envy jasmines of Valencia.
But flowers should deck the heart with joy like altars.
And yet amid this bower of orange blooms
The blossom in my heart is pain. I prayed,
But though I prayed I never had reply
Though more I prayed. Oh, heaven! Oh, Enrique!
Shall he be my husband?
Don E NRIQUE. Lady, yes — he shall!
D OÑA J UANA. Who answers so to the point?
Don E NRIQUE. I do, who listened.
D OÑA J UANA. An echo then?
Don E NRIQUE. Repeating all your sighs.
D OÑA J UANA. But will the King prevent?
Don E NRIQUE. Never!
D OÑA J UANA. Who will?
Don E NRIQUE. You, if you will.
D OÑA J UANA. You are an echo of a jealous voice;
Echo but answers once — you many times.
Don E NRIQUE. All, all my echoing answers are the same!
D OÑA J UANA. Leave us, Ines.
D OÑA I NÉS. My jealousy so burns
It dries up all my love. For jealousy
I would pursue my love and block its source
In vengeance, but love will not give way.
Oh, biting pain too bitter to endure! —
That will not grant to love the solace yet
Even of jealousy in consolation!
D OÑA J UANA. Count, this jealousy is unjust to me
And to the King.
Don E NRIQUE. But of so great a lord
What man would not be jealous? With special eye
We look upon a king, and being such
The difference, is't just to ask of love
To view it calmly without jealousy?
We both in blood are one; if then in suit
And courtship both the same, who would not choose
The mightiest and most powerful as the best?
But yet I hold him dearer than myself
So much, that were it possible to me
To cease to love you, then I would not love you,
Because he loves you so. I love and tremble,
I die and give up hope, because I know
He loves you as I love you; and I long
To give my love to him in loyalty;
But it is not to be. I take his love
On his behalf and add it then to mine,
And love for him, so when he most would love you
Oh, let me love you then and love for both,
For so the obligation falls on you,
Both loving you, and since I love for both,
To love me for us both, and doubly love me.
D OÑA J UANA. Enrique, I beguiled the King with phrases,
And humbly did salute his royal hands
With kisses on his entry into Seville.
Was this a warrant for your jealousy?
And he returns the month done to Castile.
In very truth he's worthy of my love
Both for his kingly valor and his office,
And since he loves me to the last extreme.
There is no compliment a man can pay
In honor of a woman that compares
With loving her, and loving her for wife.
But yet, not knowing him, I set before
The sum and riches of my love in you;
So now I kneel in recompense instead
Before his worth and office, not his love,
For this our plighted troth shall never fail
Unless it fail in you. The love I bear
Is not a king that yields his place to fear.
Don E NRIQUE. Divine Juana, no man beneath the sun
Deserves such trust and honor, but who loves
In equal honor and in constancy.
You fill and crown the years that pass us by
With graces that reflect your own endeavor,
And love is love-sick with them. But I come
To celebrate them all and tell them o'er
Though you had rather time had run his course
And you not heard them told. Now would to God,
Since freely you have given yourself to me,
Confiding in my love, and undeceived,
The happy days unnoted might pass by
And I dream still, while you fulfilled the years!
Your virtue is the clear and upper air
In which my peace resides. I am no king;
Love knows no kingdoms but his own desire,
He reigns within the heart. And there, my queen,
Reign on!
D OÑA J UANA. But who is this that comes with you?
Don E NRIQUE. The only partner in our loves — Ramiro.
Come, sirrah! Down and kiss the Countess' feet!
D OÑA J UANA. Is it Ramiro then?
R AMIRO. It is the same.
And I approach you as a deity.
I say, but how reluctant to this base
Poor man you proffer forth your generous foot,
With whose five jasmines — yes, your blooming toes —
Seal up my lips, illustrious Countess fair!
I shall have better ground for praising you
When you impel me to it by the foot;
It will add point and movement to my praise.
D OÑA J UANA. Ramiro, it were better for us all
That you learn silence, if you have it not.
That you can talk, why everybody knows!
And since the Count confides his love to you,
You cannot serve him better than to look
And listen and keep still.
R AMIRO. Oh, I know that!
Though now of course I am the more obliged,
Having good reason, lady, thanks to you.
And I will follow all with observation.
But you say well. The use of speech is taught
To men and birds alike; but silence yet
It never has been taught. And what a pity!
It is a great mistake to open schools
To teach us how to talk, and not have one
That can teach us to be still! If I were King
I would set up forthwith and patronize
Whole chairs of silence!
D OÑA J UANA. If you go on like this
And demonstrate your love of silence fully,
What chance have Count Enrique and myself,
By proper custom of society — —
D OÑA I NÉS. Cousin! The King!
Don E NRIQUE. Ha! What is to be done?
D OÑA J UANA. Quick! Hide behind this altar of St. John,
In the thick foliage.
Don E NRIQUE. The King suspects.
D OÑA J UANA. He has no reason; I have given none.
Youth and the heart suffice. He comes to seek me.
King. It is impossible to take offense;
The night gives license, Master, and desire
To see so curious and strange an altar.
D OÑA J UANA. In God's name, Sire, Your Majesty has deigned
A second time to honor this poor house?
After to-day we must inscribe your arms
With ours above the door, though honorable
With those we have, down-handed from our sires
Unto my father, which he brings with him
From the far frontier, where he serves you.
King. O Lady,
If chance of absence prompts you to such speech,
And this presumptuous entry in your house,
Then bid me turn and leave it. In peace and war
I prize the Adelantado, in which last
He serves me now full-armed.
D OÑA J UANA. Your Majesty
Withdrawing, will increase the obligation
We feel at seeing you, though you forego
And therewith leave undone the gracious favor
Which for to-night you planned.
Master. Discreetly modest.
Who is this lady?
D OÑA J UANA. The flower of all our line,
My cousin, Dona Ines.
D OÑA I NÉS. Your Majesty,
I kiss your feet.
King. A brave and courtly woman!
Master. No small thing, brother, that she shines so bright,
Being so near the sun.
Aside to theKing. You have your choice.
Give her to me, the lesser of two stars.
King. Enter her service; and may it do you pleasure.
How many times you will return to her,
Seeking the angel whom I love!
Master. Be mine
From to-day then!
D OÑA I NÉS. A gallant King!
D OÑA J UANA. Generous!
D OÑA I NÉS. Were they but ordinary men, these brothers
Might in themselves constrain the full of giving.
D OÑA J UANA. I'll keep the Count and rest content with him.
You take your choice among the other two.
D OÑA I NÉS. No woman who is wise, in my opinion,
Would love by choice; because true love flies in
Unheralded, possessing both the eyes.
King. This room has been transformed, as poets tell,
Into an ancient woodland oracle.
But say first, have you offered up your prayer?
If so, what answer had you for your pains?
Who first by chance passed in the street?
D OÑA J UANA. Senor,
We are not foolish; we but follow here
A custom, as in sport, but not with belief.
King. Then why did you not consecrate to me
A fair part of your altar, so thereby
I might have sent a gift to grace it fitly?
D OÑA J UANA. Because so poor a house does not deserve
To be your Chapel.
King. When my fondest hope
Is to inter and end me here? Too late!
It is Enrique's!
D OÑA J UANA. The Count has no such thought.
As you impute to him.
King. Come, lady, come!
Now speak the truth. How long perchance
Since last you saw him? What lying wench or crone
Made favoring answer to your prayer to say
Enrique should be yours?
D OÑA J UANA. I have not seen him;
And you, Your Majesty, bewilder me
Thinking the thoughts you do. Why, at this hour
The Count is wandering by the riverside
Of this most various city, other girls
Delighting as he will, which he finds easy.
That is the place he takes his tricks.
King. Soft you!
What's that? A watch, by God! And it struck three!
Quick, Master! Mendo, quick! Look to it! Ho!
It struck behind the branches of these poplars.
D OÑA J UANA. Senor, have patience! I set it in the boughs
That it might warn me of the stroke of twelve.
Master. Someone is here.
King. Then have no fear.
M ENDO. Senor,
It is two men.
King. Two? Enough! Why wait for more?
Kill them, I say — or else stand forth!
Don E NRIQUE. Stay your sword!
I am the Count, who hidden and unseen,
Entered by stealth behind these leafy boughs
To answer through them something for the saint
To these fair ladies.
King. And I warrant well
No backward answer, had the watch not struck
Into my ear and told me where you lie.
Don E NRIQUE. Rather the watch spoke plainly out for me,
Taking my side; it would ring out the hours
Of my great innocence. If you knew in sooth
What now you must divine, you could not say
That I had hid myself, and without cause
For such concealment. My watch, it did not strike,
It tongue-like spake, and cried " The Count is here, "
That you might be informed.
D OÑA J UANA. At least you believe
He entered without license.
King. I believe naught
Beyond the deep offense my love receives,
Which it would have me believe. Away, Enrique!
Leave my Court! Never again play here St. John,
An evil John to me!
Don E NRIQUE. It is but just
I should obey, since you can think such things.
Master. Sire, if the Count had feared that your displeasure ...
King. Enough, good Master!
Master. Enrique, on your knees
Ask pardon of the King!
Don E NRIQUE. A thousand times
Were there one atom of offense, good Master ...
Master. My liege, Enrique must not go. This do for me.
King. When he desires to make us full amends
Let him confess his innocence in acts,
Renouncing henceforth his pretensions.
Master. Enrique,
Say that you do.
Don E NRIQUE. I trust to banishment
Assured by absence, rather than to love
Contending with desire. With me away
Then what have you to fear? But present, yes!
I have no power to cure your jealousy,
Nor may I, Sire, forget these doors. Ah, no!
When I am here, you are in present pain,
But absent, with me the pain is absent too.
And so I would remove it far away
That never more a loyal breast may bear
So false a time-piece, which, when it struck three;
It had as well struck thirty for my love
With such betrayal to cut short my life.
I would not have, my lord, its traitorous tongue
Discover me again — a coward he,
Hung up in chains, and instantly confessing.
My love enjoineDon him a triple silence,
And he, poor fool, had thought it three o'clock,
Apparent on his face. Yet why resent
My love for Dona Ines? My liege, I thought
Juana was the lady that you loved.
King. Am I to believe you never loved Juana?
Don E NRIQUE. Had I loved Dona Juana, she in turn
Had lookeDon me with favor. She is silent.
Know then it is and has been Dona Ines —
The one bright jewel in all the world for me!
King. Ramiro ...
R AMIRO. Sire ...
King. Attend now what I say:
This is, Enrique, a real banishment
Because the grievance that I have is real.
Now come what may, let him not dare be found
At nightfall in the gates of Seville.
R AMIRO. Sire,
You know already his obedience;
Now taste of his respect. I promise you
We ride out two-and-twenty leagues to-day
To Cordoba — and may God level all the way!
King. Yet stay! Here, take this diamond for your pains.
R AMIRO. Live thou more years, O thou abundant Peter,
Than men of no account can hope to live;
Since no victorious palms these mountains give,
Be as the cedar green, which here doth seat her.
Thy bounteous hands my Muse exhort and beat her —
Raining down diamonds as through a sieve —
To make such verses as, provocative
Of envy, kick stones Parnassus down in meter.
Of thy desert may fortune cheat Old Time;
Thy charger veer with every wind; the peak
Of thy fleet's sail soon rest in heaven sublime;
The lip of Fame blow on thy trump, loud speak
From walls of Fez to Aljarafe's clime,
And Castilleja unto Mozambique.
King. Singular humor!
Master. Passing to fugitive.
King. And you? Will you be sad now he is gone?
D OÑA J UANA. Sad? I? ...
King. Should absence rest a load upon you,
My love will out and take the road instead.
Folly it were to say that I am jealous,
Because my fears have come to such a pass
They have exposed me in a crucible
Wherein I have them of the sun, or had;
And even the blue sky watch jealously.
And so I burn that I consume myself,
Of myself jealous, seeing me portrayed
Limned in the twin daughters of your eyes.
But let my griefs not be as grief to you;
It is enough they cause me pain, for love
Enforces rule even o'er majesty.
Accept the homage of a simple heart
Nor heed the pomp and show of rank besides.
And since it patent is 'mongst honest men
Ingratitude is banished, let me not lose
Having too much, what others win with less.
Oh turn your serene victorious eyes on me,
And see the spoils of this profound despair!
If being what I am can give you pain,
Reign you, my love, instead, and I will come
And lay my golden crown down at your feet
As now I breathe my soul into your eyes.
Master. Lady, the choice of silence was amiss,
An evil answer to so royal a suit.
It may not be disdain, but oftentimes
Disdain is fancied where was no intent.
I need not stay to offer you advice;
The King and I are brothers; so the Count.
Let reason speak — better in public far
To love a King and be observed of men,
Than secretly a count. Never commit
An error so tremendous as not know
Good fortune when it comes. Or fast or slow
Love changes and black hate transfuses it.
D OÑA J UANA. Go, Master! And from me tell my lord the King ...
Master. What, madam?
D OÑA J UANA. In Heaven's name I know not!
Master. But I know!
There never yet was prudent woman found
Who would refuse to set upon her brow
The crown that once was proffereDon the ground.
D OÑA J UANA. I am amazed.
D OÑA I NÉS. You have good reason.
D OÑA J UANA. Ines,
How many thoughts combat within my mind!
D OÑA I NÉS. Cousin, this blindness and infatuation
Must work perdition of yourself and house.
Then if Enrique flees, and marries after,
As say in far Castile, what have you left,
Since you have lost the King?
D OÑA J UANA. I am a woman.
I freeze and burn, I see Enrique banished;
I see the King enamored of my love;
I see that never was there law in love,
Nor in absence firm assurance. A mighty hand
Prevents what was to be, and banishment
With jealousy is pregnant, and forgets.
Oh the uncertain course of timorous love
Where there is naught secure! Now hope, now fear,
And changing ever!
D OÑA I NÉS. Forget the Count, Juana.
Forgetfulness is best; and never wait
To tempt the King to offer at your honor.
I die of love, Enrique, so upon her
Heap counsel of oblivion and fate!
R AMIRO. Death! All is lost!
Don E NRIQUE. I come to meet my doom.
D OÑA J UANA. Great heaven! What man has ventured in this room?
Don E NRIQUE. I am Enrique — I am, or I have been.
D OÑA J UANA. What? Blinded with daring
Enter you here,
Unheeding the danger
That waits and is near?
Remember 'tis madness
Jesting with kings;
Only folly contemns them,
Revenge folly brings.
An evil St. John's Eve
You brought unto me;
The fault was not mine, Count —
Why should the King see?
Ill luck to the lover
Who thoughtless draws near
To visit in secret
The maid he holds dear
And brings even his shadow,
For well it is known
That bodies by shadows
May ofttimes be shown!
How often the servant
Waiting outside
Discovers the master
Whose shield he would hide!
Coaches and horses
Lined up by the door
Discourse to the passer
Whole volumes of lore.
Discreet is the lover
Who bears it in mind
E'en the moon may reveal him,
And follow and find.
Love is no pleasure
When it comes to be known;
Neighbors like lynxes
Have eyes that pierce stone.
A curse on your watches!
Oh never more dare
Intrude with your striking,
Your knells of despair!
The name of Enrique
Three syllables holds;
Three strokes of thy hammer
Enrique unfolds.
Ah! Why dwell on my sorrow?
May not the King will
Your death and destruction,
Lingering still?
If death follows hiding
Oh haste you and fly!
Happy her who shall win you,
Cold her you pass by.
But see the day dawning —
Night in his cell
No longer detains her;
The grey mists dispel.
High above us the mountains
In clouds and in snow
Rise robed in white raiment,
The plains green below.
Each flower is reflected
In waters of glass,
And birds hymn them love-songs
Awing as they pass.
Lo! Now the soft morning
Woos the sun to draw near;
There is mounting in heaven,
And East and West clear.
Why stand you in wonder?
Count, up and away!
Oh fly, Count Enrique,
See — it is day!
Don E NRIQUE. Had I ever imagine
Such bitter disdain
Should be heard in these portals,
Had I seen thee again?
I do not deceive me —
I know what you are,
Know now I shall lose you,
Banished afar!
Now, now I have lost you,
And here I am wrong
To hazard my fortune,
Love sped and its song.
Oh strangest betrayal
That ere I am fled,
Out of sight and forever
You blot me instead!
Is there virtue in absence
To cause love to cease?
You have tasted its essence,
You need no increase.
You picture my danger
You dwell on my death;
What escape half so pleasant —
My convenient last breath?
A king roused to anger
Is menace, you fear;
His anger excuse first,
His love last hold dear.
You have thousands of reasons
But all say the same;
They all cry me warning —
But still burns my flame.
Like the sun I adored you,
I had naught to conceal;
My watch did his duty
When with three-fold loud peal
He hailed you, the morning,
By whose ray I was seen;
And yet I curse ever
His artifice keen.
I curse the inventor,
Curse pivots and wheels;
Cursed face may it blast him,
Cursed chain clamp his heels.
Its hands may they crush him,
Its springs spring him off;
Untimely in striking,
A harsh, strident cough,
May its bells ring his passing
When least he shall brook
Because he constructed
By hook and by crook
A portable trap
To play havoc with time,
Point the hour of decease,
Cut life to its chime,
A spy on pleasure,
Counting every mouthful out
Taken to his measure.
Finally you tell me
(And so finally
Judge we by your feelings
What your love must be)
That you hope to see me
Other hearts make bright —
You forego the pleasure.
Oh dazzling sight
Of kingly splendor!
Forgotten, spurned,
And my love bartered!
Be my word returned
(So perhaps you'll believe me,
Pledged before your eyes,
My love betraying
At the time with lies)
Henceforth in me
Your enemies
Shall meet master
And my arm, who flees
To Castile banished.
Whence, if I live,
Mighty in valor,
Shall the fugitive
Recount my prowess,
Constant though I die.
For your deserving
Is your beauty — Why,
Besides this is nothing!
Yet it exceeds
All sum of loving.
Up the height day speeds —
You cry away —
Away forever!
D OÑA J UANA. Enrique! Enrique!
R AMIRO. It is too late. He's gone!
What would you?
D OÑA J UANA. Run to the Count for whom I die,
And bid him stay, Ramiro.
R AMIRO. Stay? He's gone;
There's no one here to stay.
D OÑA J UANA. Oh hard heart, Ines!
D OÑA I NÉS. No, do not think it cruel of him to go,
Rather necessity.
D OÑA J UANA. And so it is!
I grant him favor of necessity,
And it is by a like necessity
His absence brings my death. For well I know
No power on earth can hold confined nor stay
O'erpowering love in woman.
D OÑA I NÉS. Take courage, heart, and thou, weak expectation,
Well mayst thou say to suffering and pain
Thou mayst rise up, bold front present again;
With life and time all things improve their station.
Creeps subtly into all things alteration
And what begins does violent end attain;
To the despairing, desperate thought amain
Comes life with change, fresh hope and wide elation.
There is no human power to resist kings;
The King holds in his hand supreme command
That sceptered all obstruction waves away,
Which should be use, as in my hope doth stand,
Enrique shall not joy Juana gay.
Enrique is mine — so love the burden sings.
R AMIRO . A thousand sportive nymphs
Consort upon the strand.
Don E NRIQUE . This is the night
And festival of our good patron John,
Fiesta of Sevilla. All the city
Is of a rare and most extreme perfection.
R AMIRO . And all this good attends upon your will;
For where good is, 'tis good to be, sir, still.
Don E NRIQUE . Come give a share to love by whom we live.
Singing, playing and dancing within.
R AMIRO . Soft voices call.
Don E NRIQUE . And here is dancing, too.
R AMIRO . Dark daughters of the night, they sing their songs,
But the black morning tempers our delight.
Singing within and tambourines.
" River of Sevilla,
How fair and soft you flow,
Whitened by your galleys
With emerald oars that row!"
King . I never saw so beautiful a sight.
Master . Sometimes desire may make the judgment droop,
Although it never fall below the plane
Of honor.
King . Master, in the night all things
Seem equal; for the mantle of the dark
Obscures and covers all that eye can see.
This field of flowers has odor but no hue,
So in the night men have this difference too.
Don E NRIQUE . R AMIRO . Is it the King?
R AMIRO . And with him comes your brother,
The Master.
Don E NRIQUE . Best retire. Enough for me
He hunts along with him.
R AMIRO . He loves him well.
Don E NRIQUE . Not without reason.
King . Two men have muffled up themselves i' the dark.
Look, Mendo. Who are they?
M ENDO . The Count, I think.
King .Going over to theC OUNT . Enrique! What! So cautious? Fearing me?
Don E NRIQUE . Senor, till now I thought you were the one
Who wished to hide and shield his face from me.
King . You ill requite the just warmth of my love.
Where are you going by this riverside?
Don E NRIQUE . Your Majesty will judge my aim amiss ...
King . An inconvenient thing, nobility,
At this hour of the night.
Don E NRIQUE . My lord, it is;
Its property is such one never knows
Just what one ought with it.
King . Swell up with pride,
My lord — at least you know no equal here.
Don E NRIQUE . Senor, in God's name I have come to-night
Only to listen and observe the scene.
M ENDO . Do not accuse the Count of o'er presumption;
His modesty will swiftly swallow up
And hide all trace of good in him.
King . Retiring?
And so I think and so men tell me too.
An end then! How? What sport?
Don E NRIQUE . Guitars and voices,
Songs heard and tambourines, threats, follies, brawls,
And with this fellow in my company
I have laid bare the breasts of four.
King . Such deeds
Can they be done in Spain? Who is this man
That he attempts like wonders at your side?
Don E NRIQUE . Ramiro follows me.
King . I would have sworn it.
R AMIRO . My master's second.
King . No!
R AMIRO . Alas, my lord,
I cannot prove my prowess upon you!
King . I know your mettle.
R AMIRO . Two things, my lord, they say
Have been excuses since the world began.
King . Which are?
R AMIRO . With man a woman, the servant with his lord.
In a good early hour did Adam say
A woman had deceived him; for since he blamed her
All blame her since. And so with masters too
The custom is the same. Is't not their fault
When the poor servant has committeDone?
King . Excuse too frigid for your sin. — Enrique,
Come lead us where we may be entertained.
Our quest to-night's the same.
Don E NRIQUE . In God's name, Sire,
How can we mate the follies of this scene
With grandeur such as yours, unless mayhap
You will take pleasure in the prayers and vain
Illusive hopes, and what else fabulous,
Wherewith the maids delight, betrothed this eve
And wed in sport to good St. John?
R AMIRO . The why
I'll tell you first, and then we'll turn to them.
King . Why then?
R AMIRO . The lamb's John's symbol?
King . Yes?
R AMIRO . Then this
They take to be their husbands' symbol too;
The main thing is to have them tame.
King . Tut, man!
Such folly passes belief. — You know the houses
Where with your master, Mendo, you resort
And sometimes pass the night?
Master . Mendo, my liege,
Knows nothing of the sort to please your taste.
King . Is there no discreet beauty well disposed
To give us welcome?
M ENDO . At this hour all are busy,
That is the better part of them; the maids
In prayer and hope, the wives in fascinations.
R AMIRO . What Mendo says I second; one of them,
And of the latter sort, enchanting me,
Proffered a vessel wherein I should see
Her throw a certain egg at the twelfth hour,
And then great things should be!
Don E NRIQUE . Great lies!
King . Great wonders!
Master . Hell fire consume and burn them all, amen!
How ill a use they make of the festival
Of this great saint!
King . No talent in a woman
Can so defame her name as this same bent
Toward fascination.
R AMIRO . Fascinations are
Like paint, illusions of the face of woman.
The tender years Aurora are and morning;
And then what woman paints? The very flower
Of her own youth delights her, the very bloom
Of her own days must make her amorous.
But as the noon comes on, false lights appear,
Because her own no longer hold the gleam
That in the morn they showed. And with them too
Make entry follies and all fascinations
To overpower desire, that she herself
No longer overpowers. Have you not seen
Carnations made of silk, and others too
Carnations that were born? So then to me
A painted face is painted, and painted still
Although men sell it in the market place.
It seems a flower,
It was not grown in nature's bower
But bought and paid for sprang into her face.
King . That sometimes happens.
R AMIRO . A reverend sage once said
That when the darkness of the night drew on
All women were the same.
King . He had in mind
The body, not then thinking of the soul.
Don E NRIQUE . Ha? Epicurus, I suppose?
R AMIRO . I'd swear
That Plutarch said it.
King . Enough I say
Of dull philosophies — they weary me;
And I am weary of dispraise of women.
The ugly, poor and vain make them out harpies,
Whom could they win and merit muster once
To do their service, they never would make end
Of sounding praises and honor like unending.
Now by my soul, where women are removed
There is no joy in all the world to-day!
Man knows no solace and no company
Like that which woman gives. She is the nurse
And doctor too of body and of soul.
Don E NRIQUE . You speak the truth, her changeable estate
Not running into vanities and show.
King . What man can equal her?
M ENDO . No obstacle
Impedes a woman. What she asks we give.
R AMIRO . A lovely creature when she does not ask,
And when she does a bolDone.
King . Enough! — Enrique,
You have some purpose here. What, man! Unmask!
Don E NRIQUE . My lord, I fly from the pursuit of women.
King . No, speak the truth!
Don E NRIQUE . The respect I owe to you ...
King . Now on my life! ...
Don E NRIQUE . Since you invoke your life
I am obliged to exalt it o'er my secret.
I have, my liege, two loves — one possible
To my desire, impossible the other;
For so by tokens honorable and high
I truly believe.
King . This love impossible
Strikes me with envy of the Count. Oh heaven,
How is it our desires should be so dull
That love must sicken ere the goal is won?
Impossible you say and high? How so?
Don E NRIQUE . Pardon the impossible. With her to me
In thought and act no thing is possible.
King . He hits me closer; I both breathe and burn.
At least the possible we are to know?
Don E NRIQUE . The possible, my lord, is close at hand.
King . Here?
Don E NRIQUE . This is the house.
King . Call then.
Don E NRIQUE . You call, Ramiro.
R AMIRO . Hello! Ho in the house! You know me, wench,
Who's at the door. — The devil do her brown!
I'll give a sigh for whistle.
J USTA. Familiar sound,
Ramiro. I come out to my decoy-bird.
R AMIRO . My Master waits — say this to Teodora —
Count Don Enrique.
J USTA. To-night we both are busy.
I pray you but excuse us for to-night,
If you would do a favor ...
R AMIRO. But he's here;
And hark you, Justa, it is twelve o'clock.
Do not deprive yourself of the rich gift
Which I have promised you.
J USTA. Now you take care.
R AMIRO. Like all the rest who have to do with you.
Justa will warn her mistress you are here.
King. Is Teodora fair?
Don E NRIQUE. How can I tell?
For when one looks on women without love
He is not like to have the eyes to see.
T EODORA. There is no time reserved for the Count my master.
Don E NRIQUE. What, Teodora? None?
T EODORA. O noble Enrique,
Thou honor of Castile! ...
Don E NRIQUE. You're occupied?
But you must grant me first a special favor.
T EODORA. With you, indeed, I can have no excuse
Nor occupation.
Who are these muffled men?
Don E NRIQUE. Two friends who wait upon you.
T EODORA. Upon me?
Don E NRIQUE. My brothers, the King and Master. Serve them well
And in such sort, I pray, to captivate
Their royal pleasure. Meanwhile I retire,
Humbly before them.
T EODORA. No, to look at you
Is more to me than all that they can give.
Don E NRIQUE. My life depends upon it. Hold them here
A little while.
T EODORA. Promise to see me later.
I'll do it, Count, for you.
Don E NRIQUE. I pledge my word. —
Ramiro ...
R AMIRO. Master? ...
Don E NRIQUE. Come.
King. She turns upon us.
I wonder, brother, does she yet suspect
It is the King?
T EODORA. Unmask, Your Highness.
Although the brightness of the sun may blind me,
Your splendor never will acquire a stain
From my humility.
Master. This is the King;
Address this sun if you would see it shine.
T EODORA. If not the sun, oh, then you are, great Master,
The brightest ray in Spain!
A ray, my lord,
Has told me that you are the sun.
King. And you,
Sweet Teodora, Aurora of this sun.
T EODORA. Such light dismays me. Stay in heaven, my liege,
And bless Castile with day for many years.
King. At twelve o'clock what is the proper sport?
T EODORA. To rise and bid good-morning to Sevilla
Which at this hour begins to live.
King. Well said.
This is a night all festival and song.
T EODORA. To go to bed shows want of health or taste.
King. You play and sing?
T EODORA. Your Majesty, I do.
So please you to be seated.
King. Where is Enrique?
T EODORA. He will return, and act as your escort
To fetch you in the morning. He summons help
In the entertainment of Your Majesty.
King. By whose command?
T EODORA. My liege, but has he gone?
King. Outwitted!
By God, deceived! Deserted here! ...
Up, Master! On!
These beardless students' tricks
Exhibit all the art of the past-master.
Master. What is to be done? You seem downcast ...
King. Unfortunate and blind!
Master. Unfortunate?
King. Is jealousy good fortune?
Master. Nay, my liege,
When heaven is ever prodigal with you! ...
King. Know if I have no other cause for pain,
My will is to be sad.
Brother Enrique,
What right or license have you to deceive me?
T EODORA. A royal mystery!
J USTA. But don't you see?
He's jealous of Enrique.
T EODORA. Perplexed in truth
Because a greater, nobler majesty
Casts love before his feet! Meanwhile 'tis meet
The King be entertained.
J USTA. The King suspects.
T EODORA. And I have lost the gift he promised me.
J USTA. What faith is there in jealousy or love?
T EODORA. But my complaint is just and will endure.
To rob the King of his most royal pleasure
They have robbed me of royal grace and favor.
D OÑA J UANA. Sweet cousin, I have offered up this prayer
To learn the Count's intention in his suit.
Is he to marry me? Or will the King
Prevent him?
D OÑA I NÉS. But why should the King prevent?
D OÑA J UANA. Because he too might marry. And no law
Exists in High Castile to forbid Kings
The daughters of their vassals.
D OÑA I NÉS. How shall I say,
Noting your preference, yet with respect,
Whether or not 'tis fortune to be sought
By kings in marriage? The poor revenues
My Lord the Adelantado can dispose
Unequal are to the measure of high birth.
And yet I never could forgive myself
Did I not warn you madness 'tis to shun
Good-fortune when it comes.
D OÑA J UANA. But my excuse
Is the extremity of love, so sore
It would absolve me were it freely painted.
Though love may be a stranger to the heart,
It is no stranger to intelligence.
You have read stories of women who have loved?
D OÑA I NÉS. But love is no excuse for foolishness,
Rather presumption.
D OÑA J UANA. How is my love foolish?
Is not the Count the brother of the King?
D OÑA I NÉS. You answer with an argument beside
The question of his worth.
D OÑA J UANA. Has he not wit
And judgment, bearing, figure, force? You're mad!
D OÑA I NÉS. And you lack sense, blinded by love, while I,
A mere spectator, one that plays no part,
More clearly understand.
D OÑA J UANA. You understand
How justly then his worth inflames my heart,
Until the stars themselves look jealously
On him anDon my love.
D OÑA I NÉS. If I speak ill,
O heaven, of Count Enrique, 'tis because
I die of love for him!
D OÑA J UANA. I have no mind
To question your advice. What matters it
Whether he pleases you? He pleases me.
D OÑA I NÉS. Who can persuade you?
D OÑA J UANA. So I built this altar
To good St. John, and robbed the garden-side
Of all its flowers; and from the orange trees
That were the tallest, plucked the orange blooms.
Then from the Alameda I brought sprigs
Of elms, until this room has been transformed
By me into a wood, which now you see.
Sweet odors mix and perfume all the air
While banked about with many a breathing flower
In panoply of diamonds stands St. John,
Arches of flowers above him, which though false
Yet do no violence to those which shine
By right of nature marvels of perfume,
The others set beside. Thus all may see
Fair Seville has no cause to hide her head
Nor envy jasmines of Valencia.
But flowers should deck the heart with joy like altars.
And yet amid this bower of orange blooms
The blossom in my heart is pain. I prayed,
But though I prayed I never had reply
Though more I prayed. Oh, heaven! Oh, Enrique!
Shall he be my husband?
Don E NRIQUE. Lady, yes — he shall!
D OÑA J UANA. Who answers so to the point?
Don E NRIQUE. I do, who listened.
D OÑA J UANA. An echo then?
Don E NRIQUE. Repeating all your sighs.
D OÑA J UANA. But will the King prevent?
Don E NRIQUE. Never!
D OÑA J UANA. Who will?
Don E NRIQUE. You, if you will.
D OÑA J UANA. You are an echo of a jealous voice;
Echo but answers once — you many times.
Don E NRIQUE. All, all my echoing answers are the same!
D OÑA J UANA. Leave us, Ines.
D OÑA I NÉS. My jealousy so burns
It dries up all my love. For jealousy
I would pursue my love and block its source
In vengeance, but love will not give way.
Oh, biting pain too bitter to endure! —
That will not grant to love the solace yet
Even of jealousy in consolation!
D OÑA J UANA. Count, this jealousy is unjust to me
And to the King.
Don E NRIQUE. But of so great a lord
What man would not be jealous? With special eye
We look upon a king, and being such
The difference, is't just to ask of love
To view it calmly without jealousy?
We both in blood are one; if then in suit
And courtship both the same, who would not choose
The mightiest and most powerful as the best?
But yet I hold him dearer than myself
So much, that were it possible to me
To cease to love you, then I would not love you,
Because he loves you so. I love and tremble,
I die and give up hope, because I know
He loves you as I love you; and I long
To give my love to him in loyalty;
But it is not to be. I take his love
On his behalf and add it then to mine,
And love for him, so when he most would love you
Oh, let me love you then and love for both,
For so the obligation falls on you,
Both loving you, and since I love for both,
To love me for us both, and doubly love me.
D OÑA J UANA. Enrique, I beguiled the King with phrases,
And humbly did salute his royal hands
With kisses on his entry into Seville.
Was this a warrant for your jealousy?
And he returns the month done to Castile.
In very truth he's worthy of my love
Both for his kingly valor and his office,
And since he loves me to the last extreme.
There is no compliment a man can pay
In honor of a woman that compares
With loving her, and loving her for wife.
But yet, not knowing him, I set before
The sum and riches of my love in you;
So now I kneel in recompense instead
Before his worth and office, not his love,
For this our plighted troth shall never fail
Unless it fail in you. The love I bear
Is not a king that yields his place to fear.
Don E NRIQUE. Divine Juana, no man beneath the sun
Deserves such trust and honor, but who loves
In equal honor and in constancy.
You fill and crown the years that pass us by
With graces that reflect your own endeavor,
And love is love-sick with them. But I come
To celebrate them all and tell them o'er
Though you had rather time had run his course
And you not heard them told. Now would to God,
Since freely you have given yourself to me,
Confiding in my love, and undeceived,
The happy days unnoted might pass by
And I dream still, while you fulfilled the years!
Your virtue is the clear and upper air
In which my peace resides. I am no king;
Love knows no kingdoms but his own desire,
He reigns within the heart. And there, my queen,
Reign on!
D OÑA J UANA. But who is this that comes with you?
Don E NRIQUE. The only partner in our loves — Ramiro.
Come, sirrah! Down and kiss the Countess' feet!
D OÑA J UANA. Is it Ramiro then?
R AMIRO. It is the same.
And I approach you as a deity.
I say, but how reluctant to this base
Poor man you proffer forth your generous foot,
With whose five jasmines — yes, your blooming toes —
Seal up my lips, illustrious Countess fair!
I shall have better ground for praising you
When you impel me to it by the foot;
It will add point and movement to my praise.
D OÑA J UANA. Ramiro, it were better for us all
That you learn silence, if you have it not.
That you can talk, why everybody knows!
And since the Count confides his love to you,
You cannot serve him better than to look
And listen and keep still.
R AMIRO. Oh, I know that!
Though now of course I am the more obliged,
Having good reason, lady, thanks to you.
And I will follow all with observation.
But you say well. The use of speech is taught
To men and birds alike; but silence yet
It never has been taught. And what a pity!
It is a great mistake to open schools
To teach us how to talk, and not have one
That can teach us to be still! If I were King
I would set up forthwith and patronize
Whole chairs of silence!
D OÑA J UANA. If you go on like this
And demonstrate your love of silence fully,
What chance have Count Enrique and myself,
By proper custom of society — —
D OÑA I NÉS. Cousin! The King!
Don E NRIQUE. Ha! What is to be done?
D OÑA J UANA. Quick! Hide behind this altar of St. John,
In the thick foliage.
Don E NRIQUE. The King suspects.
D OÑA J UANA. He has no reason; I have given none.
Youth and the heart suffice. He comes to seek me.
King. It is impossible to take offense;
The night gives license, Master, and desire
To see so curious and strange an altar.
D OÑA J UANA. In God's name, Sire, Your Majesty has deigned
A second time to honor this poor house?
After to-day we must inscribe your arms
With ours above the door, though honorable
With those we have, down-handed from our sires
Unto my father, which he brings with him
From the far frontier, where he serves you.
King. O Lady,
If chance of absence prompts you to such speech,
And this presumptuous entry in your house,
Then bid me turn and leave it. In peace and war
I prize the Adelantado, in which last
He serves me now full-armed.
D OÑA J UANA. Your Majesty
Withdrawing, will increase the obligation
We feel at seeing you, though you forego
And therewith leave undone the gracious favor
Which for to-night you planned.
Master. Discreetly modest.
Who is this lady?
D OÑA J UANA. The flower of all our line,
My cousin, Dona Ines.
D OÑA I NÉS. Your Majesty,
I kiss your feet.
King. A brave and courtly woman!
Master. No small thing, brother, that she shines so bright,
Being so near the sun.
Aside to theKing. You have your choice.
Give her to me, the lesser of two stars.
King. Enter her service; and may it do you pleasure.
How many times you will return to her,
Seeking the angel whom I love!
Master. Be mine
From to-day then!
D OÑA I NÉS. A gallant King!
D OÑA J UANA. Generous!
D OÑA I NÉS. Were they but ordinary men, these brothers
Might in themselves constrain the full of giving.
D OÑA J UANA. I'll keep the Count and rest content with him.
You take your choice among the other two.
D OÑA I NÉS. No woman who is wise, in my opinion,
Would love by choice; because true love flies in
Unheralded, possessing both the eyes.
King. This room has been transformed, as poets tell,
Into an ancient woodland oracle.
But say first, have you offered up your prayer?
If so, what answer had you for your pains?
Who first by chance passed in the street?
D OÑA J UANA. Senor,
We are not foolish; we but follow here
A custom, as in sport, but not with belief.
King. Then why did you not consecrate to me
A fair part of your altar, so thereby
I might have sent a gift to grace it fitly?
D OÑA J UANA. Because so poor a house does not deserve
To be your Chapel.
King. When my fondest hope
Is to inter and end me here? Too late!
It is Enrique's!
D OÑA J UANA. The Count has no such thought.
As you impute to him.
King. Come, lady, come!
Now speak the truth. How long perchance
Since last you saw him? What lying wench or crone
Made favoring answer to your prayer to say
Enrique should be yours?
D OÑA J UANA. I have not seen him;
And you, Your Majesty, bewilder me
Thinking the thoughts you do. Why, at this hour
The Count is wandering by the riverside
Of this most various city, other girls
Delighting as he will, which he finds easy.
That is the place he takes his tricks.
King. Soft you!
What's that? A watch, by God! And it struck three!
Quick, Master! Mendo, quick! Look to it! Ho!
It struck behind the branches of these poplars.
D OÑA J UANA. Senor, have patience! I set it in the boughs
That it might warn me of the stroke of twelve.
Master. Someone is here.
King. Then have no fear.
M ENDO. Senor,
It is two men.
King. Two? Enough! Why wait for more?
Kill them, I say — or else stand forth!
Don E NRIQUE. Stay your sword!
I am the Count, who hidden and unseen,
Entered by stealth behind these leafy boughs
To answer through them something for the saint
To these fair ladies.
King. And I warrant well
No backward answer, had the watch not struck
Into my ear and told me where you lie.
Don E NRIQUE. Rather the watch spoke plainly out for me,
Taking my side; it would ring out the hours
Of my great innocence. If you knew in sooth
What now you must divine, you could not say
That I had hid myself, and without cause
For such concealment. My watch, it did not strike,
It tongue-like spake, and cried " The Count is here, "
That you might be informed.
D OÑA J UANA. At least you believe
He entered without license.
King. I believe naught
Beyond the deep offense my love receives,
Which it would have me believe. Away, Enrique!
Leave my Court! Never again play here St. John,
An evil John to me!
Don E NRIQUE. It is but just
I should obey, since you can think such things.
Master. Sire, if the Count had feared that your displeasure ...
King. Enough, good Master!
Master. Enrique, on your knees
Ask pardon of the King!
Don E NRIQUE. A thousand times
Were there one atom of offense, good Master ...
Master. My liege, Enrique must not go. This do for me.
King. When he desires to make us full amends
Let him confess his innocence in acts,
Renouncing henceforth his pretensions.
Master. Enrique,
Say that you do.
Don E NRIQUE. I trust to banishment
Assured by absence, rather than to love
Contending with desire. With me away
Then what have you to fear? But present, yes!
I have no power to cure your jealousy,
Nor may I, Sire, forget these doors. Ah, no!
When I am here, you are in present pain,
But absent, with me the pain is absent too.
And so I would remove it far away
That never more a loyal breast may bear
So false a time-piece, which, when it struck three;
It had as well struck thirty for my love
With such betrayal to cut short my life.
I would not have, my lord, its traitorous tongue
Discover me again — a coward he,
Hung up in chains, and instantly confessing.
My love enjoineDon him a triple silence,
And he, poor fool, had thought it three o'clock,
Apparent on his face. Yet why resent
My love for Dona Ines? My liege, I thought
Juana was the lady that you loved.
King. Am I to believe you never loved Juana?
Don E NRIQUE. Had I loved Dona Juana, she in turn
Had lookeDon me with favor. She is silent.
Know then it is and has been Dona Ines —
The one bright jewel in all the world for me!
King. Ramiro ...
R AMIRO. Sire ...
King. Attend now what I say:
This is, Enrique, a real banishment
Because the grievance that I have is real.
Now come what may, let him not dare be found
At nightfall in the gates of Seville.
R AMIRO. Sire,
You know already his obedience;
Now taste of his respect. I promise you
We ride out two-and-twenty leagues to-day
To Cordoba — and may God level all the way!
King. Yet stay! Here, take this diamond for your pains.
R AMIRO. Live thou more years, O thou abundant Peter,
Than men of no account can hope to live;
Since no victorious palms these mountains give,
Be as the cedar green, which here doth seat her.
Thy bounteous hands my Muse exhort and beat her —
Raining down diamonds as through a sieve —
To make such verses as, provocative
Of envy, kick stones Parnassus down in meter.
Of thy desert may fortune cheat Old Time;
Thy charger veer with every wind; the peak
Of thy fleet's sail soon rest in heaven sublime;
The lip of Fame blow on thy trump, loud speak
From walls of Fez to Aljarafe's clime,
And Castilleja unto Mozambique.
King. Singular humor!
Master. Passing to fugitive.
King. And you? Will you be sad now he is gone?
D OÑA J UANA. Sad? I? ...
King. Should absence rest a load upon you,
My love will out and take the road instead.
Folly it were to say that I am jealous,
Because my fears have come to such a pass
They have exposed me in a crucible
Wherein I have them of the sun, or had;
And even the blue sky watch jealously.
And so I burn that I consume myself,
Of myself jealous, seeing me portrayed
Limned in the twin daughters of your eyes.
But let my griefs not be as grief to you;
It is enough they cause me pain, for love
Enforces rule even o'er majesty.
Accept the homage of a simple heart
Nor heed the pomp and show of rank besides.
And since it patent is 'mongst honest men
Ingratitude is banished, let me not lose
Having too much, what others win with less.
Oh turn your serene victorious eyes on me,
And see the spoils of this profound despair!
If being what I am can give you pain,
Reign you, my love, instead, and I will come
And lay my golden crown down at your feet
As now I breathe my soul into your eyes.
Master. Lady, the choice of silence was amiss,
An evil answer to so royal a suit.
It may not be disdain, but oftentimes
Disdain is fancied where was no intent.
I need not stay to offer you advice;
The King and I are brothers; so the Count.
Let reason speak — better in public far
To love a King and be observed of men,
Than secretly a count. Never commit
An error so tremendous as not know
Good fortune when it comes. Or fast or slow
Love changes and black hate transfuses it.
D OÑA J UANA. Go, Master! And from me tell my lord the King ...
Master. What, madam?
D OÑA J UANA. In Heaven's name I know not!
Master. But I know!
There never yet was prudent woman found
Who would refuse to set upon her brow
The crown that once was proffereDon the ground.
D OÑA J UANA. I am amazed.
D OÑA I NÉS. You have good reason.
D OÑA J UANA. Ines,
How many thoughts combat within my mind!
D OÑA I NÉS. Cousin, this blindness and infatuation
Must work perdition of yourself and house.
Then if Enrique flees, and marries after,
As say in far Castile, what have you left,
Since you have lost the King?
D OÑA J UANA. I am a woman.
I freeze and burn, I see Enrique banished;
I see the King enamored of my love;
I see that never was there law in love,
Nor in absence firm assurance. A mighty hand
Prevents what was to be, and banishment
With jealousy is pregnant, and forgets.
Oh the uncertain course of timorous love
Where there is naught secure! Now hope, now fear,
And changing ever!
D OÑA I NÉS. Forget the Count, Juana.
Forgetfulness is best; and never wait
To tempt the King to offer at your honor.
I die of love, Enrique, so upon her
Heap counsel of oblivion and fate!
R AMIRO. Death! All is lost!
Don E NRIQUE. I come to meet my doom.
D OÑA J UANA. Great heaven! What man has ventured in this room?
Don E NRIQUE. I am Enrique — I am, or I have been.
D OÑA J UANA. What? Blinded with daring
Enter you here,
Unheeding the danger
That waits and is near?
Remember 'tis madness
Jesting with kings;
Only folly contemns them,
Revenge folly brings.
An evil St. John's Eve
You brought unto me;
The fault was not mine, Count —
Why should the King see?
Ill luck to the lover
Who thoughtless draws near
To visit in secret
The maid he holds dear
And brings even his shadow,
For well it is known
That bodies by shadows
May ofttimes be shown!
How often the servant
Waiting outside
Discovers the master
Whose shield he would hide!
Coaches and horses
Lined up by the door
Discourse to the passer
Whole volumes of lore.
Discreet is the lover
Who bears it in mind
E'en the moon may reveal him,
And follow and find.
Love is no pleasure
When it comes to be known;
Neighbors like lynxes
Have eyes that pierce stone.
A curse on your watches!
Oh never more dare
Intrude with your striking,
Your knells of despair!
The name of Enrique
Three syllables holds;
Three strokes of thy hammer
Enrique unfolds.
Ah! Why dwell on my sorrow?
May not the King will
Your death and destruction,
Lingering still?
If death follows hiding
Oh haste you and fly!
Happy her who shall win you,
Cold her you pass by.
But see the day dawning —
Night in his cell
No longer detains her;
The grey mists dispel.
High above us the mountains
In clouds and in snow
Rise robed in white raiment,
The plains green below.
Each flower is reflected
In waters of glass,
And birds hymn them love-songs
Awing as they pass.
Lo! Now the soft morning
Woos the sun to draw near;
There is mounting in heaven,
And East and West clear.
Why stand you in wonder?
Count, up and away!
Oh fly, Count Enrique,
See — it is day!
Don E NRIQUE. Had I ever imagine
Such bitter disdain
Should be heard in these portals,
Had I seen thee again?
I do not deceive me —
I know what you are,
Know now I shall lose you,
Banished afar!
Now, now I have lost you,
And here I am wrong
To hazard my fortune,
Love sped and its song.
Oh strangest betrayal
That ere I am fled,
Out of sight and forever
You blot me instead!
Is there virtue in absence
To cause love to cease?
You have tasted its essence,
You need no increase.
You picture my danger
You dwell on my death;
What escape half so pleasant —
My convenient last breath?
A king roused to anger
Is menace, you fear;
His anger excuse first,
His love last hold dear.
You have thousands of reasons
But all say the same;
They all cry me warning —
But still burns my flame.
Like the sun I adored you,
I had naught to conceal;
My watch did his duty
When with three-fold loud peal
He hailed you, the morning,
By whose ray I was seen;
And yet I curse ever
His artifice keen.
I curse the inventor,
Curse pivots and wheels;
Cursed face may it blast him,
Cursed chain clamp his heels.
Its hands may they crush him,
Its springs spring him off;
Untimely in striking,
A harsh, strident cough,
May its bells ring his passing
When least he shall brook
Because he constructed
By hook and by crook
A portable trap
To play havoc with time,
Point the hour of decease,
Cut life to its chime,
A spy on pleasure,
Counting every mouthful out
Taken to his measure.
Finally you tell me
(And so finally
Judge we by your feelings
What your love must be)
That you hope to see me
Other hearts make bright —
You forego the pleasure.
Oh dazzling sight
Of kingly splendor!
Forgotten, spurned,
And my love bartered!
Be my word returned
(So perhaps you'll believe me,
Pledged before your eyes,
My love betraying
At the time with lies)
Henceforth in me
Your enemies
Shall meet master
And my arm, who flees
To Castile banished.
Whence, if I live,
Mighty in valor,
Shall the fugitive
Recount my prowess,
Constant though I die.
For your deserving
Is your beauty — Why,
Besides this is nothing!
Yet it exceeds
All sum of loving.
Up the height day speeds —
You cry away —
Away forever!
D OÑA J UANA. Enrique! Enrique!
R AMIRO. It is too late. He's gone!
What would you?
D OÑA J UANA. Run to the Count for whom I die,
And bid him stay, Ramiro.
R AMIRO. Stay? He's gone;
There's no one here to stay.
D OÑA J UANA. Oh hard heart, Ines!
D OÑA I NÉS. No, do not think it cruel of him to go,
Rather necessity.
D OÑA J UANA. And so it is!
I grant him favor of necessity,
And it is by a like necessity
His absence brings my death. For well I know
No power on earth can hold confined nor stay
O'erpowering love in woman.
D OÑA I NÉS. Take courage, heart, and thou, weak expectation,
Well mayst thou say to suffering and pain
Thou mayst rise up, bold front present again;
With life and time all things improve their station.
Creeps subtly into all things alteration
And what begins does violent end attain;
To the despairing, desperate thought amain
Comes life with change, fresh hope and wide elation.
There is no human power to resist kings;
The King holds in his hand supreme command
That sceptered all obstruction waves away,
Which should be use, as in my hope doth stand,
Enrique shall not joy Juana gay.
Enrique is mine — so love the burden sings.
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