Scenes From the Magico Prodigioso

FROM THE SPANISH OF CALDERON.

SCENE 1:

ENTER CYPRIAN, DRESSED AS A STUDENT;

CLARIN AND MOSCON AS POOR SCHOLARS, WITH BOOKS.

CYPRIAN:

In the sweet solitude of this calm place,

This intricate wild wilderness of trees

And flowers and undergrowth of odorous plants,

Leave me; the books you brought out of the house

To me are ever best society.

And while with glorious festival and song,

Antioch now celebrates the consecration

Of a proud temple to great Jupiter,

And bears his image in loud jubilee

To its new shrine, I would consume what still

Lives of the dying day in studious thought,

Far from the throng and turmoil. You, my friends,

Go, and enjoy the festival; it will

Be worth your pains. You may return for me

When the sun seeks its grave among the billows

Which, among dim gray clouds on the horizon,

Dance like white plumes upon a hearse;-- and here

I shall expect you.

MOSCON:

I cannot bring my mind,

Great as my haste to see the festival

Certainly is, to leave you, Sir, without

Just saying some three or four thousand words.

How is it possible that on a day

Of such festivity, you can be content

To come forth to a solitary country

With three or four old books, and turn your back

On all this mirth?

CLARIN:

My master's in the right;

There is not anything more tiresome

Than a procession day, with troops, and priests,

And dances, and all that.

MOSCON:

From first to last,

Clarin, you are a temporizing flatterer;

You praise not what you feel but what he does;--

Toadeater!

CLARIN:

You lie--under a mistake--

For this is the most civil sort of lie

That can be given to a man's face. I now

Say what I think.

CYPRIAN:

Enough, you foolish fellows!

Puffed up with your own doting ignorance,

You always take the two sides of one question.

Now go; and as I said, return for me

When night falls, veiling in its shadows wide

This glorious fabric of the universe.

MOSCON:

How happens it, although you can maintain

The folly of enjoying festivals,

That yet you go there?

CLARIN:

Nay, the consequence

Is clear:--who ever did what he advises

Others to do?--

MOSCON:

Would that my feet were wings,

So would I fly to Livia.

[EXIT.]

CLARIN:

To speak truth,

Livia is she who has surprised my heart;

But he is more than half-way there.--Soho!

Livia, I come; good sport, Livia, soho!

[EXIT.]

CYPRIAN:

Now, since I am alone, let me examine

The question which has long disturbed my mind

With doubt, since first I read in Plinius

The words of mystic import and deep sense

In which he defines God. My intellect

Can find no God with whom these marks and signs

Fitly agree. It is a hidden truth

Which I must fathom.

[CYPRIAN READS;

THE DAEMON, DRESSED IN A COURT DRESS, ENTERS.]

DAEMON:

Search even as thou wilt,

But thou shalt never find what I can hide.

CYPRIAN:

What noise is that among the boughs? Who moves?

What art thou?--

DAEMON:

'Tis a foreign gentleman.

Even from this morning I have lost my way

In this wild place; and my poor horse at last,

Quite overcome, has stretched himself upon

The enamelled tapestry of this mossy mountain,

And feeds and rests at the same time. I was

Upon my way to Antioch upon business

Of some importance, but wrapped up in cares

(Who is exempt from this inheritance?)

I parted from my company, and lost

My way, and lost my servants and my comrades.

CYPRIAN:

'Tis singular that even within the sight

Of the high towers of Antioch you could lose

Your way. Of all the avenues and green paths

Of this wild wood there is not one but leads,

As to its centre, to the walls of Antioch;

Take which you will, you cannot miss your road.

DAEMON:

And such is ignorance! Even in the sight

Of knowledge, it can draw no profit from it.

But as it still is early, and as I

Have no acquaintances in Antioch,

Being a stranger there, I will even wait

The few surviving hours of the day,

Until the night shall conquer it. I see

Both by your dress and by the books in which

You find delight and company, that you

Are a great student;--for my part, I feel

Much sympathy in such pursuits.

CYPRIAN:

Have you

Studied much?

DAEMON:

No,--and yet I know enough

Not to be wholly ignorant.

CYPRIAN:

Pray, Sir,

What science may you know?--

DAEMON:

Many.

CYPRIAN:

Alas!

Much pains must we expend on one alone,

And even then attain it not;--but you

Have the presumption to assert that you

Know many without study.

DAEMON:

And with truth.

For in the country whence I come the sciences

Require no learning,--they are known.

CYPRIAN:

Oh, would

I were of that bright country! for in this

The more we study, we the more discover

Our ignorance.

DAEMON:

It is so true, that I

Had so much arrogance as to oppose

The chair of the most high Professorship,

And obtained many votes, and, though I lost,

The attempt was still more glorious, than the failure

Could be dishonourable. If you believe not,

Let us refer it to dispute respecting

That which you know the best, and although I

Know not the opinion you maintain, and though

It be the true one, I will take the contrary.

CYPRIAN:

The offer gives me pleasure. I am now

Debating with myself upon a passage

Of Plinius, and my mind is racked with doubt

To understand and know who is the God

Of whom he speaks.

DAEMON:

It is a passage, if

I recollect it right, couched in these words

'God is one supreme goodness, one pure essence,

One substance, and one sense, all sight, all hands.'

CYPRIAN:

'Tis true.

DAEMON:

What difficulty find you here?

CYPRIAN:

I do not recognize among the Gods

The God defined by Plinius; if he must

Be supreme goodness, even Jupiter

Is not supremely good; because we see

His deeds are evil, and his attributes

Tainted with mortal weakness; in what manner

Can supreme goodness be consistent with

The passions of humanity?

DAEMON:

The wisdom

Of the old world masked with the names of Gods

The attributes of Nature and of Man;

A sort of popular philosophy.

CYPRIAN:

This reply will not satisfy me, for

Such awe is due to the high name of God

That ill should never be imputed. Then,

Examining the question with more care,

It follows, that the Gods would always will

That which is best, were they supremely good.

How then does one will one thing, one another?

And that you may not say that I allege

Poetical or philosophic learning:--

Consider the ambiguous responses

Of their oracular statues; from two shrines

Two armies shall obtain the assurance of

One victory. Is it not indisputable

That two contending wills can never lead

To the same end? And, being opposite,

If one be good, is not the other evil?

Evil in God is inconceivable;

But supreme goodness fails among the Gods

Without their union.

DAEMON:

I deny your major.

These responses are means towards some end

Unfathomed by our intellectual beam.

They are the work of Providence, and more

The battle's loss may profit those who lose,

Than victory advantage those who win.

CYPRIAN:

That I admit; and yet that God should not

(Falsehood is incompatible with deity)

Assure the victory; it would be enough

To have permitted the defeat. If God

Be all sight,--God, who had beheld the truth,

Would not have given assurance of an end

Never to be accomplished: thus, although

The Deity may according to his attributes

Be well distinguished into persons, yet

Even in the minutest circumstance

His essence must be one.

DAEMON:

To attain the end

The affections of the actors in the scene

Must have been thus influenced by his voice.

CYPRIAN:

But for a purpose thus subordinate

He might have employed Genii, good or evil,--

A sort of spirits called so by the learned,

Who roam about inspiring good or evil,

And from whose influence and existence we

May well infer our immortality.

Thus God might easily, without descent

To a gross falsehood in his proper person,

Have moved the affections by this mediation

To the just point.

DAEMON:

These trifling contradictions

Do not suffice to impugn the unity

Of the high Gods; in things of great importance

They still appear unanimous; consider

That glorious fabric, man,--his workmanship

Is stamped with one conception.

CYPRIAN:

Who made man

Must have, methinks, the advantage of the others.

If they are equal, might they not have risen

In opposition to the work, and being

All hands, according to our author here,

Have still destroyed even as the other made?

If equal in their power, unequal only

In opportunity, which of the two

Will remain conqueror?

DAEMON:

On impossible

And false hypothesis there can be built

No argument. Say, what do you infer

From this?

CYPRIAN:

That there must be a mighty God

Of supreme goodness and of highest grace,

All sight, all hands, all truth, infallible,

Without an equal and without a rival,

The cause of all things and the effect of nothing,

One power, one will, one substance, and one essence.

And, in whatever persons, one or two,

His attributes may be distinguished, one

Sovereign power, one solitary essence,

One cause of all cause.

[THEY RISE.]

DAEMON:

How can I impugn

So clear a consequence?

CYPRIAN:

Do you regret

My victory?

DAEMON:

Who but regrets a check

In rivalry of wit? I could reply

And urge new difficulties, but will now

Depart, for I hear steps of men approaching,

And it is time that I should now pursue

My journey to the city.

CYPRIAN:

Go in peace!

DAEMON:

Remain in peace!--Since thus it profits him

To study, I will wrap his senses up

In sweet oblivion of all thought but of

A piece of excellent beauty; and, as I

Have power given me to wage enmity

Against Justina's soul, I will extract

From one effect two vengeances.

[ASIDE AND EXIT.]

CYPRIAN:

I never

Met a more learned person. Let me now

Revolve this doubt again with careful mind.

[HE READS.]

[FLORO AND LELIO ENTER.]

LELIO:

Here stop. These toppling rocks and tangled boughs,

Impenetrable by the noonday beam,

Shall be sole witnesses of what we--

FLORO:

Draw!

If there were words, here is the place for deeds.

LELIO:

Thou needest not instruct me; well I know

That in the field, the silent tongue of steel

Speaks thus,--

[THEY FIGHT.]

CYPRIAN:

Ha! what is this? Lelio,--Floro,

Be it enough that Cyprian stands between you,

Although unarmed.

LELIO:

Whence comest thou, to stand

Between me and my vengeance?

FLORO:

From what rocks

And desert cells?

[ENTER MOSCON AND CLARIN.]

MOSCON:

Run! run! for where we left

My master. I now hear the clash of swords.

CLARIN:

I never run to approach things of this sort

But only to avoid them. Sir! Cyprian! sir!

CYPRIAN:

Be silent, fellows! What! two friends who are

In blood and fame the eyes and hope of Antioch,

One of the noble race of the Colalti,

The other son o' the Governor, adventure

And cast away, on some slight cause no doubt,

Two lives, the honour of their country?

LELIO:

Cyprian!

Although my high respect towards your person

Holds now my sword suspended, thou canst not

Restore it to the slumber of the scabbard:

Thou knowest more of science than the duel;

For when two men of honour take the field,

No counsel nor respect can make them friends

But one must die in the dispute.

FLORO:

I pray

That you depart hence with your people, and

Leave us to finish what we have begun

Without advantage.--

CYPRIAN:

Though you may imagine

That I know little of the laws of duel,

Which vanity and valour instituted,

You are in error. By my birth I am

Held no less than yourselves to know the limits

Of honour and of infamy, nor has study

Quenched the free spirit which first ordered them;

And thus to me, as one well experienced

In the false quicksands of the sea of honour,

You may refer the merits of the case;

And if I should perceive in your relation

That either has the right to satisfaction

From the other, I give you my word of honour

To leave you.

LELIO:

Under this condition then

I will relate the cause, and you will cede

And must confess the impossibility

Of compromise; for the same lady is

Beloved by Floro and myself.

FLORO:

It seems

Much to me that the light of day should look

Upon that idol of my heart--but he--

Leave us to fight, according to thy word.

CYPRIAN:

Permit one question further: is the lady

Impossible to hope or not?

LELIO:

She is

So excellent, that if the light of day

Should excite Floro's jealousy, it were

Without just cause, for even the light of day

Trembles to gaze on her.

CYPRIAN:

Would you for your

Part, marry her?

FLORO:

Such is my confidence.

CYPRIAN:

And you?

LELIO:

Oh! would that I could lift my hope

So high, for though she is extremely poor,

Her virtue is her dowry.

CYPRIAN:

And if you both

Would marry her, is it not weak and vain,

Culpable and unworthy, thus beforehand

To slur her honour? What would the world say

If one should slay the other, and if she

Should afterwards espouse the murderer?

[THE RIVALS AGREE TO REFER THEIR QUARREL TO CYPRIAN; WHO IN CONSEQUENCE

VISITS JUSTINA, AND BECOMES ENAMOURED OF HER; SHE DISDAINS HIM, AND HE

RETIRES TO A SOLITARY SEA-SHORE.]

SCENE 2.

CYPRIAN:

O memory! permit it not

That the tyrant of my thought

Be another soul that still

Holds dominion o'er the will,

That would refuse, but can no more,

To bend, to tremble, and adore.

Vain idolatry!--I saw,

And gazing, became blind with error;

Weak ambition, which the awe

Of her presence bound to terror!

So beautiful she was--and I,

Between my love and jealousy,

Am so convulsed with hope and fear,

Unworthy as it may appear;--

So bitter is the life I live,

That, hear me, Hell! I now would give

To thy most detested spirit

My soul, for ever to inherit,

To suffer punishment and pine,

So this woman may be mine.

Hear'st thou, Hell! dost thou reject it?

My soul is offered!

DAEMON (UNSEEN):

I accept it.

[TEMPEST, WITH THUNDER AND LIGHTNING.]

CYPRIAN:

What is this? ye heavens for ever pure,

At once intensely radiant and obscure!

Athwart the aethereal halls

The lightning's arrow and the thunder-balls

The day affright,

As from the horizon round,

Burst with earthquake sound,

In mighty torrents the electric fountains;--

Clouds quench the sun, and thunder-smoke

Strangles the air, and fire eclipses Heaven.

Philosophy, thou canst not even

Compel their causes underneath thy yoke:

From yonder clouds even to the waves below

The fragments of a single ruin choke

Imagination's flight;

For, on flakes of surge, like feathers light,

The ashes of the desolation, cast

Upon the gloomy blast,

Tell of the footsteps of the storm;

And nearer, see, the melancholy form

Of a great ship, the outcast of the sea,

Drives miserably!

And it must fly the pity of the port,

Or perish, and its last and sole resort

Is its own raging enemy.

The terror of the thrilling cry

Was a fatal prophecy

Of coming death, who hovers now

Upon that shattered prow,

That they who die not may be dying still.

And not alone the insane elements

Are populous with wild portents,

But that sad ship is as a miracle

Of sudden ruin, for it drives so fast

It seems as if it had arrayed its form

With the headlong storm.

It strikes--I almost feel the shock,--

It stumbles on a jagged rock,--

Sparkles of blood on the white foam are cast.

[A TEMPEST.]

ALL EXCLAIM [WITHIN]:

We are all lost!

DAEMON [WITHIN]:

Now from this plank will I

Pass to the land and thus fulfil my scheme.

CYPRIAN:

As in contempt of the elemental rage

A man comes forth in safety, while the ship's

Great form is in a watery eclipse

Obliterated from the Oceans page,

And round its wreck the huge sea-monsters sit,

A horrid conclave, and the whistling wave

Is heaped over its carcase, like a grave.

[THE DAEMON ENTERS, AS ESCAPED FROM THE SEA.]

DAEMON [ASIDE]:

It was essential to my purposes

To wake a tumult on the sapphire ocean,

That in this unknown form I might at length

Wipe out the blot of the discomfiture

Sustained upon the mountain, and assail

With a new war the soul of Cyprian,

Forging the instruments of his destruction

Even from his love and from his wisdom.--O

Beloved earth, dear mother, in thy bosom

I seek a refuge from the monster who

Precipitates itself upon me.

CYPRIAN:

Friend,

Collect thyself; and be the memory

Of thy late suffering, and thy greatest sorrow

But as a shadow of the past,--for nothing

Beneath the circle of the moon, but flows

And changes, and can never know repose.

DAEMON:

And who art thou, before whose feet my fate

Has prostrated me?

CYPRIAN:

One who, moved with pity,

Would soothe its stings.

DAEMON:

Oh, that can never be!

No solace can my lasting sorrows find.

CYPRIAN:

Wherefore?

DAEMON:

Because my happiness is lost.

Yet I lament what has long ceased to be

The object of desire or memory,

And my life is not life.

CYPRIAN:

Now, since the fury

Of this earthquaking hurricane is still,

And the crystalline Heaven has reassumed

Its windless calm so quickly, that it seems

As if its heavy wrath had been awakened

Only to overwhelm that vessel,--speak,

Who art thou, and whence comest thou?

DAEMON:

Far more

My coming hither cost, than thou hast seen

Or I can tell. Among my misadventures

This shipwreck is the least. Wilt thou hear?

CYPRIAN:

Speak.

DAEMON:

Since thou desirest, I will then unveil

Myself to thee;--for in myself I am

A world of happiness and misery;

This I have lost, and that I must lament

Forever. In my attributes I stood

So high and so heroically great,

In lineage so supreme, and with a genius

Which penetrated with a glance the world

Beneath my feet, that, won by my high merit,

A king--whom I may call the King of kings,

Because all others tremble in their pride

Before the terrors of His countenance,

In His high palace roofed with brightest gems

Of living light--call them the stars of Heaven--

Named me His counsellor. But the high praise

Stung me with pride and envy, and I rose

In mighty competition, to ascend

His seat and place my foot triumphantly

Upon His subject thrones. Chastised, I know

The depth to which ambition falls; too mad

Was the attempt, and yet more mad were now

Repentance of the irrevocable deed:--

Therefore I chose this ruin, with the glory

Of not to be subdued, before the shame

Of reconciling me with Him who reigns

By coward cession.--Nor was I alone,

Nor am I now, nor shall I be alone;

And there was hope, and there may still be hope,

For many suffrages among His vassals

Hailed me their lord and king, and many still

Are mine, and many more, perchance shall be.

Thus vanquished, though in fact victorious,

I left His seat of empire, from mine eye

Shooting forth poisonous lightning, while my words

With inauspicious thunderings shook Heaven,

Proclaiming vengeance, public as my wrong,

And imprecating on His prostrate slaves

Rapine, and death, and outrage. Then I sailed

Over the mighty fabric of the world,--

A pirate ambushed in its pathless sands,

A lynx crouched watchfully among its caves

And craggy shores; and I have wandered over

The expanse of these wide wildernesses

In this great ship, whose bulk is now dissolved

In the light breathings of the invisible wind,

And which the sea has made a dustless ruin,

Seeking ever a mountain, through whose forests

I seek a man, whom I must now compel

To keep his word with me. I came arrayed

In tempest, and although my power could well

Bridle the forest winds in their career,

For other causes I forbore to soothe

Their fury to Favonian gentleness;

I could and would not;

[ASIDE.]

(thus I wake in him

A love of magic art). Let not this tempest,

Nor the succeeding calm excite thy wonder;

For by my art the sun would turn as pale

As his weak sister with unwonted fear;

And in my wisdom are the orbs of Heaven

Written as in a record; I have pierced

The flaming circles of their wondrous spheres

And know them as thou knowest every corner

Of this dim spot. Let it not seem to thee

That I boast vainly; wouldst thou that I work

A charm over this waste and savage wood,

This Babylon of crags and aged trees,

Filling its leafy coverts with a horror

Thrilling and strange? I am the friendless guest

Of these wild oaks and pines--and as from thee

I have received the hospitality

Of this rude place, I offer thee the fruit

Of years of toil in recompense; whate'er

Thy wildest dream presented to thy thought

As object of desire, that shall be thine.

...

And thenceforth shall so firm an amity

'Twixt thee and me be, that neither Fortune,

The monstrous phantom which pursues success,

That careful miser, that free prodigal,

Who ever alternates, with changeful hand,

Evil and good, reproach and fame; nor Time,

That lodestar of the ages, to whose beam

The winged years speed o'er the intervals

Of their unequal revolutions; nor

Heaven itself, whose beautiful bright stars

Rule and adorn the world, can ever make

The least division between thee and me,

Since now I find a refuge in thy favour.

SCENE 3.

THE DAEMON TEMPTS JUSTINA, WHO IS A CHRISTIAN.

DAEMON:

Abyss of Hell! I call on thee,

Thou wild misrule of thine own anarchy!

From thy prison-house set free

The spirits of voluptuous death,

That with their mighty breath

They may destroy a world of virgin thoughts;

Let her chaste mind with fancies thick as motes

Be peopled from thy shadowy deep,

Till her guiltless fantasy

Full to overflowing be!

And with sweetest harmony,

Let birds, and flowers, and leaves, and all things move

To love, only to love.

Let nothing meet her eyes

But signs of Love's soft victories;

Let nothing meet her ear

But sounds of Love's sweet sorrow,

So that from faith no succour she may borrow,

But, guided by my spirit blind

And in a magic snare entwined,

She may now seek Cyprian.

Begin, while I in silence bind

My voice, when thy sweet song thou hast began.

A VOICE [WITHIN]:

What is the glory far above

All else in human life?

ALL:

Love! love!

[WHILE THESE WORDS ARE SUNG,

THE DAEMON GOES OUT AT ONE DOOR,

AND JUSTINA ENTERS AT ANOTHER.]

THE FIRST VOICE:

There is no form in which the fire

Of love its traces has impressed not.

Man lives far more in love's desire

Than by life's breath, soon possessed not.

If all that lives must love or die,

All shapes on earth, or sea, or sky,

With one consent to Heaven cry

That the glory far above

All else in life is--

ALL:

Love! oh, Love!

JUSTINA:

Thou melancholy Thought which art

So flattering and so sweet, to thee

When did I give the liberty

Thus to afflict my heart?

What is the cause of this new Power

Which doth my fevered being move,

Momently raging more and more?

What subtle Pain is kindled now

Which from my heart doth overflow

Into my senses?--

ALL:

Love! oh, Love!

JUSTINA:

'Tis that enamoured Nightingale

Who gives me the reply;

He ever tells the same soft tale

Of passion and of constancy

To his mate, who rapt and fond,

Listening sits, a bough beyond.

Be silent, Nightingale--no more

Make me think, in hearing thee

Thus tenderly thy love deplore,

If a bird can feel his so,

What a man would feel for me.

And, voluptuous Vine, O thou

Who seekest most when least pursuing,--

To the trunk thou interlacest

Art the verdure which embracest,

And the weight which is its ruin,--

No more, with green embraces, Vine,

Make me think on what thou lovest,--

For whilst thus thy boughs entwine

I fear lest thou shouldst teach me, sophist,

How arms might be entangled too.

Light-enchanted Sunflower, thou

Who gazest ever true and tender

On the sun's revolving splendour!

Follow not his faithless glance

With thy faded countenance,

Nor teach my beating heart to fear,

If leaves can mourn without a tear,

How eyes must weep! O Nightingale,

Cease from thy enamoured tale,--

Leafy Vine, unwreathe thy bower,

Restless Sunflower, cease to move,--

Or tell me all, what poisonous Power

Ye use against me--

ALL:

Love! Love! Love!

JUSTINA:

It cannot be!--Whom have I ever loved?

Trophies of my oblivion and disdain,

Floro and Lelio did I not reject?

And Cyprian?--

[SHE BECOMES TROUBLED AT THE NAME OF CYPRIAN.]

Did I not requite him

With such severity, that he has fled

Where none has ever heard of him again?--

Alas! I now begin to fear that this

May be the occasion whence desire grows bold,

As if there were no danger. From the moment

That I pronounced to my own listening heart,

'Cyprian is absent!'--O me miserable!

I know not what I feel!

[MORE CALMLY.]

It must be pity

To think that such a man, whom all the world

Admired, should be forgot by all the world,

And I the cause.

[SHE AGAIN BECOMES TROUBLED.]

And yet if it were pity,

Floro and Lelio might have equal share,

For they are both imprisoned for my sake.

[CALMLY.]

Alas! what reasonings are these? it is

Enough I pity him, and that, in vain,

Without this ceremonious subtlety.

And, woe is me! I know not where to find him now,

Even should I seek him through this wide world.

[ENTER DAEMON.]

DAEMON:

Follow, and I will lead thee where he is.

JUSTINA:

And who art thou, who hast found entrance hither,

Into my chamber through the doors and locks?

Art thou a monstrous shadow which my madness

Has formed in the idle air?

DAEMON:

No. I am one

Called by the Thought which tyrannizes thee

From his eternal dwelling; who this day

Is pledged to bear thee unto Cyprian.

JUSTINA:

So shall thy promise fail. This agony

Of passion which afflicts my heart and soul

May sweep imagination in its storm;

The will is firm.

DAEMON:

Already half is done

In the imagination of an act.

The sin incurred, the pleasure then remains;

Let not the will stop half-way on the road.

JUSTINA:

I will not be discouraged, nor despair,

Although I thought it, and although 'tis true

That thought is but a prelude to the deed:--

Thought is not in my power, but action is:

I will not move my foot to follow thee.

DAEMON:

But a far mightier wisdom than thine own

Exerts itself within thee, with such power

Compelling thee to that which it inclines

That it shall force thy step; how wilt thou then

Resist, Justina?

JUSTINA:

By my free-will.

DAEMON:

I

Must force thy will.

JUSTINA:

It is invincible;

It were not free if thou hadst power upon it.

[HE DRAWS, BUT CANNOT MOVE HER.]

DAEMON:

Come, where a pleasure waits thee.

JUSTINA:

It were bought

Too dear.

DAEMON:

'Twill soothe thy heart to softest peace.

JUSTINA:

'Tis dread captivity.

DAEMON:

'Tis joy, 'tis glory.

JUSTINA:

'Tis shame, 'tis torment, 'tis despair.

DAEMON:

But how

Canst thou defend thyself from that or me,

If my power drags thee onward?

JUSTINA:

My defence

Consists in God.

[HE VAINLY ENDEAVOURS TO FORCE HER, AND AT LAST RELEASES HER.]

DAEMON:

Woman, thou hast subdued me,

Only by not owning thyself subdued.

But since thou thus findest defence in God,

I will assume a feigned form, and thus

Make thee a victim of my baffled rage.

For I will mask a spirit in thy form

Who will betray thy name to infamy,

And doubly shall I triumph in thy loss,

First by dishonouring thee, and then by turning

False pleasure to true ignominy.

[EXIT.]

JUSTINA: I

Appeal to Heaven against thee; so that Heaven

May scatter thy delusions, and the blot

Upon my fame vanish in idle thought,

Even as flame dies in the envious air,

And as the floweret wanes at morning frost;

And thou shouldst never--But, alas! to whom

Do I still speak?--Did not a man but now

Stand here before me?--No, I am alone,

And yet I saw him. Is he gone so quickly?

Or can the heated mind engender shapes

From its own fear? Some terrible and strange

Peril is near. Lisander! father! lord!

Livia!--

[ENTER LISANDER AND LIVIA.]

LISANDER:

Oh, my daughter! What?

LIVIA:

What!

JUSTINA:

Saw you

A man go forth from my apartment now?--

I scarce contain myself!

LISANDER:

A man here!

JUSTINA:

Have you not seen him?

LIVIA:

No, Lady.

JUSTINA: I saw him.

LISANDER: 'Tis impossible; the doors

Which led to this apartment were all locked.

LIVIA [ASIDE]:

I daresay it was Moscon whom she saw,

For he was locked up in my room.

LISANDER:

It must

Have been some image of thy fantasy.

Such melancholy as thou feedest is

Skilful in forming such in the vain air

Out of the motes and atoms of the day.

LIVIA:

My master's in the right.

JUSTINA:

Oh, would it were

Delusion; but I fear some greater ill.

I feel as if out of my bleeding bosom

My heart was torn in fragments; ay,

Some mortal spell is wrought against my frame;

So potent was the charm that, had not God

Shielded my humble innocence from wrong,

I should have sought my sorrow and my shame

With willing steps.--Livia, quick, bring my cloak,

For I must seek refuge from these extremes

Even in the temple of the highest God

Where secretly the faithful worship.

LIVIA:

Here.

JUSTINA [PUTTING ON HER CLOAK]:

In this, as in a shroud of snow, may I

Quench the consuming fire in which I burn,

Wasting away!

LISANDER:

And I will go with thee.

LIVIA:

When I once see them safe out of the house

I shall breathe freely.

JUSTINA:

So do I confide

In thy just favour, Heaven!

LISANDER:

Let us go.

JUSTINA:

Thine is the cause, great God! turn for my sake,

And for Thine own, mercifully to me!