SCENE THE FIRST.
Night A Cemetry near Madrid.
DON JUAN .
Here will we wait the night. At last, thank God,
Before us lies Madrid. And soon, once more,
Its streets and squares familiar I shall roam,
In cloak my face concealed and cap down drawn;
What sayst? Methinks, I shall be here unknown.
LEPORELLO .
To know Don Juan here discernment needs!
The place is crammed with fellows like himself.
DON JUAN .
Thou speakst in jest. Who is there will know me?
LEPORELLO .
The first old watchman that we chance to meet,
Or drunken player of the serenade,
Or cavalier, spruce rival of your trade,
Well cloaked and masked, with sword beneath his arm.
DON JUAN .
And what great harm, if they discover me?
We must avoid the King, and for the rest,
There is not one I fear in all Madrid.
LEPORELLO .
Before to-morrow the King will know
That of your own free will you have returned,
And in Madrid your pranks will play. But say,
What will the King now do?
DON JUAN .
Why, send me back!
'Tis sure he will not care to take my head;
Of all state-crimes I'm innocent, and if
He banished me, it was from love, to save
Me from the slain man's kin and friends.
LEPORELLO .
Just so!
And there you might have lived in quiet ease.
DON JUAN .
I humbly thank thee! Why, man, I well nigh
Died of spleen and dulness there! Oh, those men,
That country, sky like canopy of smoke,
And then the women! Well I ne'er would change,
My friend, the lowest-born or clumsiest
Of all the maids of Andalusia
For first and proudest of their stately dames!
Awhile, 'tis true, their large blue eyes, soft traits,
And bearing coy and modest, did possess
The charm of something novel and untried;
But soon, thank God, I felt it were a sin
To lose one's heart to women such as they:
No breathers, but mere statues, dolls of wax,
Whilst ours... But hark, this place, it seems, to us
Is known, or dost thou fail remember it?
LEPORELLO .
Can I forget? The convent is well known,
And well remembered. When you hither came
In yonder grove the horses I must hold;
No cheerful task, you will confess. Your time
Was spent more gay than mine!
DON JUAN .
My poor Inez!
She is no more! But ne'er was love more true.
'Twas in July, one night. A wondrous joy
I found in her sad, shrouded glance, and lips
Of death-pale hue. Methought it strange, but thou,
It seems, her beauty rare wouldst ne'er confess
In truth, 'twere hard to find in her one trait,
That faultless could be called. But, man, her eyes,
Her eyes, and with that glance!... A glance like hers,
I think, I never since have seen! Her voice
Was low and weak, a sickly woman's voice...
Her husband was a scoundrel and a brute,
I later learned. . Alas, my poor Inez!
LEPORELLO .
Maids fairer than Inez have ta'en her place.
DON JUAN .
'Tis true!
LEPORELLO
And, if we live, new queens shall reign!
DON JUAN .
And that is also true.
LEPORELLO .
And now, who is
The favoured one we have to seek?
DON JUAN .
Laura!
To her my homage straight I pay.
LEPORELLO .
Agreed!
DON JUAN .
At once I fly to her; and if I find
Some busy fool my visit has forestalled,
I'll pray her leap through window to my arms!
LEPORELLO .
Of course! And so, fresh pleasures we will seek,
Nor shall the dead long haunt to trouble us!
But who comes here?
MONK .
She will be here at once.
But who are these? The Lady Anna's men?
LEPORELLO .
No serfs are we, but strangers hither come
To see Madrid.
DON JUAN .
And whom may you await?
MONK .
It is the hour the Lady Anna fixed
Her husband's tomb to visit.
DON JUAN .
How, Lady
De Solva, the wife of the Commander,
Who killed in duel was, by whom I have
Forgot?
MONK .
By Don Juan, the godless wretch.
LEPORELLO .
'Tis strange, but true; through thickest convent walls
Our gallant Juan's fame has made its way,
And hermits grave do sing the hero's praise.
MONK .
May be, he's known to you?
LEPORELLO .
We know him not;
But, pray, where is he now?
MONK .
No longer here,
But far in exile lives.
LEPORELLO .
And God be praised!
The farther off the better. Would such rogues
Were in one common sack cast in the sea!
DON JUAN . (Aside to Leporello.)
What folly pratest thou?
LEPORELLO . (Aside to Don Juan.)
Hush! on purpose...
DON JUAN .
And so, 'tis here the poor Commander lies!
MONK .
Here. The wife a monument has founded,
And hither, robed in black, each day she comes,
To pray his sinful, erring soul repose,
And o'er his grave to weep.
DON JUAN .
A widow strange!
The lady's spouse with jealousy was mad,
And kept her under lock and close confined;
Not one of us e'er caught a glance of her.
But men report her fair.
MONK .
Our oath forbids
That we in woman's beauty take delight;
But sin it is to lie, nor sourest saint
Would care deny the lady's wondrous charms.
DON JUAN .
It is my wish to speak with her a word.
MONK .
Vain wish: with men she never holds commune.
DON JUAN .
Not e'en with you, most reverend father?
MONK .
With me she may and does, for I am monk
But look, she comes.
DONNA ANNA .
The gate, my father, ope.
MONK .
At once, signora, here I've waited thee.
LEPORELLO .
And pray, what kind of beauty is she?
DON JUAN .
Naught
Could see beneath the close drawn widow veil;
Though well I marked a graceful little foot.
LEPORELLO .
That is enough! At once your fancy fires,
And in a minute nimbly draws the rest;
Ne'er painter had a phantasy so keen.
No matter, how or where you may begin,
With lady's brow or with her foot.
DON JUAN .
Hearken,
I will with her acquaintance make.
LEPORELLO .
I fain
Would know the why! The husband he has killed,
And now, forsooth, the widow's tears must see;
Oh, shameless wretch!
DON JUAN .
It is already dusk,
And till the moon attains her full mid course,
Making the shades of night a clear obscure,
We'll freely stroll Madrid's wide streets.
LEPORELLO .
Like thief,
The Spanish gallant hotly waits the night,
And fears the moon. By heaven, a cursed life!
Must I much longer yet be tied to him?
My strength begins to fail to keep his pace.
Night A Cemetry near Madrid.
DON JUAN .
Here will we wait the night. At last, thank God,
Before us lies Madrid. And soon, once more,
Its streets and squares familiar I shall roam,
In cloak my face concealed and cap down drawn;
What sayst? Methinks, I shall be here unknown.
LEPORELLO .
To know Don Juan here discernment needs!
The place is crammed with fellows like himself.
DON JUAN .
Thou speakst in jest. Who is there will know me?
LEPORELLO .
The first old watchman that we chance to meet,
Or drunken player of the serenade,
Or cavalier, spruce rival of your trade,
Well cloaked and masked, with sword beneath his arm.
DON JUAN .
And what great harm, if they discover me?
We must avoid the King, and for the rest,
There is not one I fear in all Madrid.
LEPORELLO .
Before to-morrow the King will know
That of your own free will you have returned,
And in Madrid your pranks will play. But say,
What will the King now do?
DON JUAN .
Why, send me back!
'Tis sure he will not care to take my head;
Of all state-crimes I'm innocent, and if
He banished me, it was from love, to save
Me from the slain man's kin and friends.
LEPORELLO .
Just so!
And there you might have lived in quiet ease.
DON JUAN .
I humbly thank thee! Why, man, I well nigh
Died of spleen and dulness there! Oh, those men,
That country, sky like canopy of smoke,
And then the women! Well I ne'er would change,
My friend, the lowest-born or clumsiest
Of all the maids of Andalusia
For first and proudest of their stately dames!
Awhile, 'tis true, their large blue eyes, soft traits,
And bearing coy and modest, did possess
The charm of something novel and untried;
But soon, thank God, I felt it were a sin
To lose one's heart to women such as they:
No breathers, but mere statues, dolls of wax,
Whilst ours... But hark, this place, it seems, to us
Is known, or dost thou fail remember it?
LEPORELLO .
Can I forget? The convent is well known,
And well remembered. When you hither came
In yonder grove the horses I must hold;
No cheerful task, you will confess. Your time
Was spent more gay than mine!
DON JUAN .
My poor Inez!
She is no more! But ne'er was love more true.
'Twas in July, one night. A wondrous joy
I found in her sad, shrouded glance, and lips
Of death-pale hue. Methought it strange, but thou,
It seems, her beauty rare wouldst ne'er confess
In truth, 'twere hard to find in her one trait,
That faultless could be called. But, man, her eyes,
Her eyes, and with that glance!... A glance like hers,
I think, I never since have seen! Her voice
Was low and weak, a sickly woman's voice...
Her husband was a scoundrel and a brute,
I later learned. . Alas, my poor Inez!
LEPORELLO .
Maids fairer than Inez have ta'en her place.
DON JUAN .
'Tis true!
LEPORELLO
And, if we live, new queens shall reign!
DON JUAN .
And that is also true.
LEPORELLO .
And now, who is
The favoured one we have to seek?
DON JUAN .
Laura!
To her my homage straight I pay.
LEPORELLO .
Agreed!
DON JUAN .
At once I fly to her; and if I find
Some busy fool my visit has forestalled,
I'll pray her leap through window to my arms!
LEPORELLO .
Of course! And so, fresh pleasures we will seek,
Nor shall the dead long haunt to trouble us!
But who comes here?
MONK .
She will be here at once.
But who are these? The Lady Anna's men?
LEPORELLO .
No serfs are we, but strangers hither come
To see Madrid.
DON JUAN .
And whom may you await?
MONK .
It is the hour the Lady Anna fixed
Her husband's tomb to visit.
DON JUAN .
How, Lady
De Solva, the wife of the Commander,
Who killed in duel was, by whom I have
Forgot?
MONK .
By Don Juan, the godless wretch.
LEPORELLO .
'Tis strange, but true; through thickest convent walls
Our gallant Juan's fame has made its way,
And hermits grave do sing the hero's praise.
MONK .
May be, he's known to you?
LEPORELLO .
We know him not;
But, pray, where is he now?
MONK .
No longer here,
But far in exile lives.
LEPORELLO .
And God be praised!
The farther off the better. Would such rogues
Were in one common sack cast in the sea!
DON JUAN . (Aside to Leporello.)
What folly pratest thou?
LEPORELLO . (Aside to Don Juan.)
Hush! on purpose...
DON JUAN .
And so, 'tis here the poor Commander lies!
MONK .
Here. The wife a monument has founded,
And hither, robed in black, each day she comes,
To pray his sinful, erring soul repose,
And o'er his grave to weep.
DON JUAN .
A widow strange!
The lady's spouse with jealousy was mad,
And kept her under lock and close confined;
Not one of us e'er caught a glance of her.
But men report her fair.
MONK .
Our oath forbids
That we in woman's beauty take delight;
But sin it is to lie, nor sourest saint
Would care deny the lady's wondrous charms.
DON JUAN .
It is my wish to speak with her a word.
MONK .
Vain wish: with men she never holds commune.
DON JUAN .
Not e'en with you, most reverend father?
MONK .
With me she may and does, for I am monk
But look, she comes.
DONNA ANNA .
The gate, my father, ope.
MONK .
At once, signora, here I've waited thee.
LEPORELLO .
And pray, what kind of beauty is she?
DON JUAN .
Naught
Could see beneath the close drawn widow veil;
Though well I marked a graceful little foot.
LEPORELLO .
That is enough! At once your fancy fires,
And in a minute nimbly draws the rest;
Ne'er painter had a phantasy so keen.
No matter, how or where you may begin,
With lady's brow or with her foot.
DON JUAN .
Hearken,
I will with her acquaintance make.
LEPORELLO .
I fain
Would know the why! The husband he has killed,
And now, forsooth, the widow's tears must see;
Oh, shameless wretch!
DON JUAN .
It is already dusk,
And till the moon attains her full mid course,
Making the shades of night a clear obscure,
We'll freely stroll Madrid's wide streets.
LEPORELLO .
Like thief,
The Spanish gallant hotly waits the night,
And fears the moon. By heaven, a cursed life!
Must I much longer yet be tied to him?
My strength begins to fail to keep his pace.