ADVERTISEMENT

In apologizing for the publication of so free translations of so famous a poet as Calderon, I must plead, first, that I have not meddled with any of his more famous plays; not one of those on my list being mentioned with any praise, or included in any selection that I know of, except the homely Mayor of Zalamea. Four of these six indeed, as many others in Calderon, may be lookt on as a better kind of what we call melodramas. Such plays as the Magico Prodigioso and the Vida es Sueño (I cannot rank the Principe Constante among them) require another translator, and, I think, form of translation.

Secondly, I do not believe an exact translation of this poet can be very successful; retaining so much that, whether real or dramatic Spanish passion, is still bombast to English ears, and confounds otherwise distinct outlines of character; Conceits that were a fashion of the day; or idioms that, true and intelligible to one nation, check the current of sympathy in others to which they are unfamiliar; violations of the probable, nay possible, that shock even healthy romantic licence; repetitions of thoughts and images that Calderon used (and smiled at) as so much stage properties—so much, in short, that is not Calderon’s own better self, but concession to private haste or[2] public taste by one who so often relied upon some striking dramatic crisis for success with a not very accurate audience, and who, for whatever reason, was ever averse from any of his dramas being printed.

Choosing therefore such less famous plays as still seemed to me suited to English taste, and to that form of verse in which our dramatic passion prefers to run, I have, while faithfully trying to retain what was fine and efficient, sunk, reduced, altered, and replaced, much that seemed not; simplified some perplexities, and curtailed or omitted scenes that seemed to mar the breadth of general effect, supplying such omissions by some lines of after-narrative; and in some measure have tried to compensate for the fulness of sonorous Spanish, which Saxon English at least must forgo, by a compression which has its own charm to Saxon ears.

That this, if proper to be done at all, might be better done by others, I do not doubt. Nay, on looking back over these pages, I see where in some cases the Spanish individuality might better have been retained, and northern idiom spared; and doubtless there are many inaccuracies I am not yet aware of. But if these plays prove interesting to the English reader, I and he may be very sure that, whatever of Spain and Calderon be lost, there must be a good deal retained; and I think he should excuse the licence of my version till some other interests him as well at less expense of fidelity.

I hope my Graciosos will not be blamed for occasional anachronisms not uncharacteristic of their vocation.

[3]

[4]

THE PAINTER OF HIS OWN DISHONOUR

DRAMATIS PERSONÆ

[5]

ACT I

Scene I.—A Room in Don Luis’ palace at Naples.

Enter Don Luis and Don Juan meeting.

[Exit Juan.

Enter Porcia.

Enter Leonelo.

Leonelo. Peace to this house!—and not only that, but a story beside.—A company of soldiers coming to a certain village, a fellow of the place calls out for two to be billeted on him. ‘What!’ says a neighbour, ‘you want a double share of what every one else tries to shirk altogether?’ ‘Yes,’ says he, ‘for the more nuisance they are while they stay, the more glad one is of their going.’ In illustration of which, and also of my master’s orders, I crave your Lordship’s hand, and your Ladyship’s foot, to kiss.

Luis. Welcome, good Leonelo. I was afraid I had overlooked you in receiving your master.

Por. And how does marriage agree with you, Leonelo?

Leon. One gentleman asked another to dine; but such an ill-ordered dinner that the capon was cold, and the wine hot. Finding which, the guest dips a leg of the capon into the wine. And when his host asks him what he’s about—‘Only making the wine heat the capon, and the capon cool the wine,’ says he. Now just this happened in my marriage. My wife was rather too young, and I rather too old; so, as it is hoped—

Por. Foolery, foolery, always!—tell me how Serafina is—

Leon. In a coach.

Por. What answer is that?

Leon. A very sufficient one—since a coach includes happiness, pride, and (a modern author says) respectability.

[11]

Por. How so?

Leon. Why, a certain lady died lately, and for some reason or other, they got leave to carry her to the grave in a coach. Directly they got her in,—the body, I mean,—it began to fidget—and when they called out to the coachman—‘Drive to St. Sepulchre’s!’—‘No!’ screams she,—‘I won’t go there yet. Drive to the Prado first; and when I have had a turn there, they may bury me where they please.’

Luis. How can you let your tongue run on so!

Leon. I’ll tell you. A certain man in Barcelona had five or six children: and he gave them each to eat—

(Voices within.) ‘Way there! way!’

Por. They are coming.

Leon. And in so doing, take that story out of my mouth.

Enter Julia.

Julia. Signor, your guests are just alighting.

Luis. Come, Porcia—

Leon. (No, no, stop you and listen to me about those dear children.)

Por. They are coming upstairs—at the door—

Enter Don Juan leading Serafina, Don Pedro and Flora—all in travelling dress.

(Guns heard without.)

Enter Fabio.

[Exeunt Don Luis, Pedro, Juan, Leonelo, Fabio, etc.

[Exeunt Flora and Julia.

[Swoons.

Enter Alvaro.

[Exit.

(Offers to embrace her.)

Enter Porcia, Flora, Julia.

[Retires with Porcia to back of Stage.

Enter Juan and Pedro.

[Exeunt Porcia, Serafina, and Juan.

Enter the Prince Orsino, Celio, Don Luis, and Train.

[Exit.

[Exit.

Enter Porcia.

Enter Serafina.

[Exit.

[Exit.

Enter Alvaro.

Enter Don Luis.

[Exeunt Prince and Celio.

[Exit.

Enter Serafina, drest as at first, and Porcia.

[Exit.

(Cannon within.)

Enter Porcia.

Enter Don Juan, Luis, Pedro, Leonelo, etc.

[Exeunt all but Alvaro.

[31]

ACT II

Scene I.—A room in Don Juan’s house at Barcelona: he is discovered painting Serafina. It gradually grows dusk.

Enter Leonelo.

Leonelo. And here comes in a story:—

A man got suddenly deaf, and seeing the people about him moving their lips, quoth he, ‘What the devil makes you all dumb?’ never thinking for a moment the fault might be in himself. So it is with you, who lay the blame on a face that all the world is praising, and not on your own want of skill to paint it.

Juan. Not a very apt illustration, Leonelo, as you would admit if you heard what I was saying before you came in. But, whose soever the fault, I am the sufferer. I will no more of it, however. Come, I will abroad.

Ser. Whither, my lord?

Juan. Down to the pier, with the sea and the fresh air, to dispel my vexation.

Ser. By quitting me?

Juan. I might indeed say so, since the sight of you is the perpetual trophy of my defeat. But what if leave you in order to return with a double zest?

Ser. Nay, nay, with no such pretty speeches hope to delude me; I know what it is. The carnival with its fair masks.

Juan. A mask abroad when I have that face at home!

[34]

Ser. Nay, nay, I know you.

Juan. Better than I do myself?

Ser. What wife does not?

Leon. Just so. A German and the priest of his village coming to high words one day, because the man blew his swine’s horn under the priest’s window, the priest calls out in a rage, ‘I’ll denounce your horns to the parish, I will!’ which the man’s wife overhearing in the scullery, she cries out, ‘Halloa, neighbour, here is the priest revealing my confession!’

Ser. What impertinence, Leonelo!

Leon. Very well then, listen to this; a certain man in Barcelona had five or six children, and one day—

Juan. Peace, foolish fellow.

Leon. Those poor children will never get the meat well into their mouths.

[Exeunt Juan and Leonelo.

Enter Flora, out of breath.

Flora. O madam!

Ser. Well, Flora, what now?

Flora. O madam, there is a man down-stairs!

Ser. Well?

[35]

Flora. Drest sailor-like.

Ser. Well?

Flora. He will not go away unless I give this letter into your hands.

Ser. Into my hands? from whom?

Flora. From the lady Porcia he says, madam.

Ser. From Porcia, well, and what frightens you?

Flora. Nothing, madam, and yet—

Ser. And yet there is something.

Flora. O, my lady, if this should be Don Alvaro!

Ser. Don Alvaro! what makes you think that?

Flora. I am sure it is he.

Ser. But did you tell him you knew him?

Flora. I could not help, madam, in my surprise.

Ser. And what said he then?

As she is going, enter Alvaro, as a Sailor.

Enter Flora hurriedly.

[Hides in the closet.

[Exit.

Enter Flora with lights.

(She takes a light.)

[Exeunt Juan and Serafina.

Enter Leonelo.

Leonelo. What is the matter?

Flora. The matter is, I have fallen.

Leon. Into temptation?

Flora. It is well, sir, if I have not broken my leg; here, sir, cease your gibing, and get this lamp lighted directly.

[41]

Leon. (stumbling over Alvaro). Halloa!

Flora. What now?

Leon. I’ve fallen now, and on your temptation I think, for it has got a beard.

Alv. (groping his way). The fool! but I can find the door.

[Exit.

Leon. There goes some one!

Flora. The man’s mad!

Leon. Am I? Halloa! halloa, there!

Enter Juan with light.

Juan. What is the matter?

Flora. Nothing, nothing, my lord.

Leon. Nothing? I say it is something, a great—

Flora. My lord, going to shut the door, I stumbled, fell, and put out the light, that’s all.

Leon. And I stumbled too.

Juan. Well?

Leon. Over a man.

Juan. In this chamber?

Leon. Yes, and—

Flora. Nonsense! my lord, he stumbled against me, as we both floundered in the dark.

Leon. You! What have you done with your beard then?

Juan. Are you mad? or is this some foolery?

Leon. My lord, I swear I stumbled over a fellow here.

Juan (aside). And she so anxious to light me to her chamber! what is all this? Take the lamp, Leonelo. Though partly I think you have been dreaming, I will yet search the house; come with me. I will draw the sting of suspicion at once, come what come may.

[Draws sword and exit.

[42]

[Exeunt severally.

Scene II.—The garden of Don Luis’ palace at Naples; a window with a balcony on one side, or in front:—night.

Enter the Prince and Celio muffled up.

(A harp heard.)

(She appears at the window.)

[44]

(Plays on the harp.)

[45]

Enter Julia within, hurried.

[Celio and Prince retreat.

Enter Luis.

[Exit.

[As she retires still singing from the window within, the Prince and Celio retire back into the garden.

Scene III.—A street before Don Diego’s house in Barcelona.

Enter Alvaro and Fabio, masked: other Masks pass across, and into Diego’s house.

Alv. This is the place; here will I wait till she comes by. I know her dress, but I dared not follow her till myself disguised.

Fab. And no doubt, sir, you will find good opportunity of talking to her. ’Tis the old and acknowledged usage of this season, that any one may accost any one so long as both are masked, and so neither supposed to know the other.

Alv. Oh, a brave usage, and a brave invention, that of the Carnival! One may accost whom one pleases, and whisper what one will, under the very ears of husband, father, or duenna!

Fab. So received a custom, that even among this hot-headed jealous people of Spain, no mortal quarrel has yet arisen on these occasions, though plenty to provoke it.

Alv. Look! the Masks are coming; I hear the[48] music within. She must soon be here. Let us withdraw round this corner till she come.

[Exeunt.

Scene IV.—A garden leading down to the sea; on one side a Portico.

Masks singing and dancing; in the course of which enter and mix with them, Juan, Serafina, Leonelo, and Flora, and afterwards Alvaro; all masked.

[A dance, during which Alvaro observes Serafina.

(A minuet by the Masks; during which Alvaro constantly whispers Serafina, who seems distrest; after some time, they return in the figure to the front of the Stage.)

[Exeunt Juan and Serafina.

Leon. (watching him). This must be some monk, who knows of some better entertainment elsewhere.

(Throws off mask, etc.)

Enter Sailors.

As he is going out, enter Juan with Serafina fainted in his arms.

Juan. Friends! Gentlemen! if you would help in this calamity, take charge for a moment of this most precious thing of all, till I return.

Alv. (taking Serafina in his arms). Trust me, sir.

[Juan rushes off.

[53]

Leon. Stop, my lord, stop a moment—he is gone, and this man—

[Exit, carrying off Serafina.

Leon. Halloa! stop him! stop him! it is my mistress; Don Juan! my lord! my lord! the rascal has carried her off! my lord! my lord!

[Runs after Alvaro.

1st Voice in the crowd. The fire is getting under.

2nd Voice. No lives lost?

3rd Voice. Only, they say, one poor girl of the lady Serafina’s.

Enter Don Juan hurriedly.

Juan. I thought I heard Leonelo calling me—But where is Serafina? This is the place—yes—Serafina! I left them here—taken her perhaps fainting as she was for help. Gentlemen, have you seen any here with a lady, fainted, in their charge—a sailor, I think?

1st Man. Not I, sir.

2nd Man. Nor I.

3rd Man. Stay, I think there were some sailors with a lady in their arms.

Juan. And where—

Enter Leonelo breathless.

Leon. Oh, my lord, my lord!

Juan. Speak!

Leon. The Mask who danced with my lady—

Juan. Where is she?

[54]

Leon. Was the sailor you gave her in charge to—He has carried her off.

Juan. The Mask! the sailor!

Leon. I saw him throw off his disguise, and now he has carried her off—to the shore—to sea—to the ship there now spreading her sails in the harbour.

Juan. Man! beware lest I blast thee!

Leon. As if I were the sailor! I tell you I ran after them, shouted, struggled, but was pushed aside, knocked down—

Juan. To the shore, to the shore! follow me!

Voices. What is the matter?

Juan. What I dare not name till it be avenged; Pirate!—Ruffian! Oh fool, I might have guessed—but I will find them through water and fire too. To the shore!

[Exit Juan, Leonelo after him; confusion, etc.

ACT III

Scene I.—A room in Don Luis’ country-house near Naples.

Enter Don Luis reading a letter.

Luis. ‘You bid me tell you why it is Don Juan Roca has not written to you so long: and though it be pain to do so, I dare no longer defer answering you. At a carnival dance here, the palace of Don Diego de Cordona, in which the festival was held, took fire so suddenly, as people had much ado to escape with their lives. Don Juan’s wife fainting from terror, he carried her out, and gave her in[55] charge to a sailor standing near, while he himself returned to help at the fire. No doubt this sailor was a pirate: for he carried her off to his ship and set sail immediately. Don Juan returning and finding her gone rushes madly after; casts himself into the sea in his rage and desperation; is rescued half drowned, and taken to his house, from which he was missed—he and his servant Leonelo—some days ago, taking scarce any thing with him, and leaving no hint of whither he is gone. And since that hour we have heard nothing of him, or of Serafina.’

Enter Porcia.

[Exit.

[58]

Scene II.—A room in Don Luis’ castle in the hills.

Enter Alvaro and Fabio.

Enter Serafina.

[Exit Fabio.

(Shot within.)

Enter Belardo.

[She goes in at one door, as Porcia enters by another.

Alv. How now, Porcia, you look pleased to-day!

Por. And well I may—for two reasons, Alvaro.

[61]

Alv. Well, what are they?

Por. First, I have got my father to relax in his humour against you.

Alv. My good sister!

Por. So as he will see you at Bellaflor this very evening.

Alv. Good! and your second reason?

Por. That coming up the pass, I made the crowning shot of my life with this arquebuss—a hare at full speed—flying, I might say.

Alv. Give you joy of both your hits, Porcia.

Por. I am so proud of the last (though glad of the first, Alvaro) that I shall try my luck and skill a little longer about the castle this evening.

Alv. So—

Por. You will not wait for me, but go down at once to Bellaflor, and show my father you value his forgiveness by your haste to acknowledge it.

Alv. You say well; but you will go with me?

Por. Fear not, I shall soon be after you.

Alv. Well, if so, then——(apart to Belardo) Belardo, remember you get the lady to her room directly my sister is gone out.

Por. Our roads lie together as far as the gate at least. (Aside to Belardo.) If the Prince happen to come hither, tell him to wait for me, Belardo; I shall be back directly. Come, brother.

[Exeunt Alvaro and Porcia.

Bel. They say a Pander is a good business; and yet here am I ministering both to brother and sister with very little profit at the year’s end.

Ser. (entering cautiously). Porcia’s gone?

Bel. Yes, she is gone.

Ser. Had she resolved on going into the room where I was she could have done it; there was[62] neither key nor bolt within. But she is gone and I can get to my own.

Bel. No.

Ser. Belardo! why?

Bel. Some one coming.

Ser. Again!

[She hides, as before.

Enter Prince.

Prince. How now, Belardo, where is your mistress? she advised me her brother would be away, and she here this evening.

Bel. Your Highness comes in good time. She went with him, but will be back directly. She is here.

Enter Porcia.

Por. Not far behind, you see. Scarce had he taken the turn to Bellaflor, when I turn’d back.

Prince. How shall I thank you for this favour?

Por. My brother’s living here has been the reason of our not meeting before: but that is remedied for the future.

Prince. And how?

Por. He is at last reconciled to my father, and is even now gone home, to Bellaflor.

Prince. (aside). My heart thanks you but little, being away with another; but if I cannot avenge memory, I will thus try and deceive or amuse it. My lovely Porcia!

Bel. (aside). She hears every word they say!

Por. Ah, you flatter still.

Prince. Flatter!

Por. Do I not know there is a Siren at Naples—

[63]

Prince. Porcia, to prove to you how unfounded that suspicion is, I have these many days wholly quitted Naples, and, out of a melancholy that has taken hold of me, now live retired in a little Villa hard by this: you may imagine at least one reason for my doing so. And so enchanted am I with my solitude, that till this evening (when you broke it as I could wish) I have not once stirred abroad; my only occupation being to watch some pictures that I am having done, by the best masters of Italy and of Spain too; one of which country I have happened on, who might compete with Apelles. As I told you, I have spent whole days in watching them at work.

Por. My jealousy whispered—

Enter Belardo.

Bel. Unlucky to be sure.

Por. What now?

Bel. What can make your brother return so suddenly?

Por. My brother!

Bel. He is now at the gate.

Por. He must suspect the Prince! O, my lord, hide yourself.

Prince. Where?

Por. Any where!—quick! here.

[She puts him where Serafina is.

Prince. For your sake, Porcia.

Enter Alvaro.

Alv. I cannot be easy till I am assured that Serafina——Porcia here?

[64]

Por. Alvaro!

Alv. You left me on a sudden?

Por. I was tired, and came back for rest.

Alv. So—

Por. But you?

Alv. I bethought me that, considering my father’s late indisposition toward me, it were better you were at my side when I went to him.

Por. So—

Alv. So that if he should relapse into ill-humour, you know how to direct him.

Por. Well, shall we start again together?

Alv. Is not that best?

Por. As you please.

Alv. (aside). She will not then stumble on Serafina.

Por. (aside). I shall so get him out of the Prince’s way.

[Exeunt Porcia and Alvaro.

Bel. Now then the two imprisoned ones get out.

Enter the Prince, and Serafina, her hand before her face.

Bel. Only this was wanting to the plot! The sister’s gallant in love with the brother’s mistress!

[Exeunt Prince and Serafina.

[Exit.

Scene III.—The Prince’s Villa.

Enter Don Juan in poor apparel; and Celio.

[Exit Celio.

Enter Leonelo, poorly drest.

Enter Prince.

[Exit Prince.

[Exeunt.

Scene IV.—A room in Don Luis’ Villa.

Enter Luis and Alvaro.

[Exit.

Enter Don Pedro.

Enter Porcia hurriedly.

[Exeunt Luis and Pedro.

[Exit.

Scene V.—The garden under Alvaro’s castle. A large grated door in the centre.

Enter Prince, Juan, Leonelo, and Belardo.

Prince (to Belardo). You know your office; take this diamond by way of thanks.