1^ ImTi'. €nu\\ Wimux%\ii Jibtiatg THE GIFT OF .&a^......rJ&a^?,^^ Ai-D-^.^-^-^^-^ - 2r o./rj/i^^. THE TWO LOVERS OF HEAVEN: . CHIffS/NTHUS >ND DARI> ^ ■' , FBOM THE SPANISH 01' CALDEEON. .-With iFedicatorij Sxinaets ttx " LONGFELLOW, ETC. DENIS FLOEENCE MAO-CAETHY, M.E.I.A. S POK LA Fe MobIBB. jj^fe Calderon's Family Motto. DUBLIN : JOHN F. FOWLEE, 3 CEOW STEEET. V LONDON: JOHN CAMDEN HOTTEN, 74 >kd 75 PICCADILLY. 1870. The original of tliis book is in tlie Cornell University Library. There are no known copyright restrictions in the United States on the use of the text. http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924027517626 Cornell University Library PQ 6292.D7M12 Two lovers of heaven, Chrysanthus and Da 3 1924 027 517 626 THE TWO LOVERS OF HEAVEN: CHipSANTHUS jlND DARI>, ^ l^rama at Earlij gihristian Eame- FROM THE SPANISH OF CALDEEON.^ ^ POy^&O.^ With ^edicatartj Sonnets to LONGFELLOW, BY DENIS FLORENCE MAC-CARTHY, M.R.I.A. For la Fe Mokike. Caltieron^s Ftnnily Motto. DUBLIN: JOHN F. FOWLER, 3 CROW STREET. LONDON : JOHN CAMDEN HOTTEN, 74 and 75 PICCADILLY. 1870. _ aa A.io-'t^ 2^0 " POR LA Fe MorIRe". FoR THE Faith welcome Death. This motto is taken from the engraved coat of arms prefixed to an histo- rical account of "the very noble and ancient house of Calderon de la Barca" — a rather scarce work which I have never seen alluded to in any account of the poet. The circumstances from which the motto was assigned to the family are given with some minuteness at pp. 56 and 57 of the work referred to. It is enough to mention that the martyr who first used the expression was Don Sancho Ortiz Calderon de la Barca, a Commander of the Order of Santiago. He was in the service of the renowned king, Don Alfonso the Wise, towards the close of the thirteenth century, and having been taken prisoner by the Moors before Gibraltar, he was offered his life on the usual conditions of apostasy. But he re- fused all overtures, saying: "Pues mi Dios por mi murio, yo quiero morir por el", a phrase which has a singular resemblance to the key note of this drama. Don Ortiz Calderon was eventually put to death with great cruelty, after some alternations of good and bad treatment. See Des- cripcion, Armas, Origen, y Descendencia de la muy noble y anligua Casa de Calderon de la Barca, etc., que Escrivi6 El Rmo. P. M. Fr. Phelipe de la Gandara, etc., Obra Postuma, que saca a luz Juan de Zuiiiga. Madrid, 1753. D. F. M. C. TO HENEY WADSWOKTH LONGFELLOW, IN GRATEFUL RECOLLECTION OF SOME DKLI6HTFUL PAYS SPKNT WITH HIM AT ROME, This Iframa is dB&icaUA BY DENIS PLORENCE MAC-CARTHY. TO LONGFELLOW. PENSIVE within the Colosseum's walls I stood with thee, O Poet of the West! — The day when each had been a welcome guest In San Clemente's venerable halls : — Ah, with what pride my memory now recalls That hour of hours, that flower of all the rest, When with thy white beard falling on thy breast — That noble head, that well might serve as Paul's In some divinest vision of the saint By Raffael dreamed, I heard thee mourn the dead — The martyred host who fearless there, though faint. Walked the rough road that up to Heaven's gate led : These were the pictures Calderon loved to paint In golden hues that here perchance have fled. YET take the colder copy from my hand. Not for its own but for The Master's sake, — Take it, as thou, returning home, wUt take Prom that divinest soft Italian land Fixed shadows of the Beautiful and Grand In sunless pictures that the sun doth make — Reflections that may pleasant memories wake Of all that Raffael touched, or Angelo planned : As these may keep what memory else might lose, So may this photograph of verse impart An image, though without the native hues Of Calderon's fire, and yet with Calderon's art, Of what Thou lovest through a kindred Muse That sings in heaven, yet nestles in the heart. D. F. M. C. Dublin, August 24, 1869. PREFATORY NOTE. THE PROFESSOR OF POETRY AT OXFORD AND THE AUTOS SACRAMENTALES OF CALDERON. Although the Drama here presented to the public is not an Auto, the present may be a not inappropriate occasion to draw the attention of aU candid readers to the remarks of the Professor of Poetry at Oxford on the Autos Sacramentales of Calderon — remarks founded entirely on the volume of translations from these Autos published by me in 1867,* although not mentioned by name, as I conceive in fairness it ought to have been, by Sir F. H. Doyle in his printed Lectures.f In his otherwise excellent analysis of The Dream of Gerontius, Sir F. H. Doyle is mistaken as to any direct impression having been made upon the mind of Dr. Newman in reference to it by the Autos of Calderon. So late as March 3, 1867, in thanking me for the volume made use of by Sir F. H. Doyle, Dr. Newman implies that up to that period he had not devoted any particular attention even to this most important and unique development of Spanish religious poetry. The only complete Auto of Calderon that had previously appeared in English— my own translation of The Sorceries of Sin, had, indeed, been in his hands from 1859, and I wish I could flatter myself that it had in any way led to the pro- duction of a master-piece like The Dream of Gerontius. But I cannot in- dulge that delusion. Dr. Newman had internally and externally too many sources of inspiration to necessitate an adoption even of such high models as the Spanish Autos. Besides, The Dream of Gerontius is no more an Auto than Paradise Lost, or the Divina Comm€dia. In these, only real personages, spiritual and material, are represented, or monsters that typified human passions, but did not personify them. In the Autos it is precisely the reverse. Rarely do actual beings take part in tlie drama, and then only as personifications of the predominant vices or passions of the individuals whose names they bear. Thus in my own volume, Belshazzar is not treated so much as an historical cha- racter, but rather as the personification of the pride and haughtiness of a vo- luptuous king. In The Divine Philothea, in the same volume, there are no actual beings whatever, except The Prince of Light and The Prince of Dark- ness or The Demon. In truth, there is nothing analogous to a Spanish Auto in EngUsh original poetry. The nearest approach to it, and the only one, is The Prometheus Unbound of Shelley. There, indeed. The Earth, Ocean, The Spirits of the Hours, The Phantasm of Jupiter, Demogorgon, and Piometheus himself, read like the Personas of a Spanish Auto, and the poetry is worthy the re- semblance. The Autos Sacramentales differ also, not only in degree but in kind from every form of Mystery or Morality produced either in England or ' AUTOS SACHAMFNTALES: The Divine Philothka: Belshazzak's Feast. Two Autos, from the Spanish of Calderon With a Oommentary from the German of Dr. Franz Lorinser. By Denis Florence Mac-Carthy, M.K.LA. Dablin : James Duffy, 15 Welliiigtoa Quay, and 22 Paternoster Kow, London. t Lbcthebs dbliveked bhfoee the UKivERSiTTf OF OxFOBD, 1668. By Sir F. H. Doyle Bart., M.A., B.C L., Late Fellow of All Souls', Professor of Poetry. London : Macmillan & Co., 1869. Prefatory Note. on the Continent. But to return to the lecture by Sir F. H. Doyle. Even in smaller matters he is not accurate. Thus he has transcribed incorrectly from my Introduction the name of the distinguished commentator on the Autos of Calderon and their translator into German — Dr. Lorinser. This Sir F. H. Doyle has printed throughout his lecture ' Lorinzer'. From private letters which I have had the honour of receiving from this learned writer, there can be no doubt that the form as originally given by me is the right one. With these corrections the lecture of Sir F. H. Doyle may be quoted as a valuable testimony to the extraordinary poetic beauty of these Autos even in a translation. Lecture m. — Dr. Newman's Dream, of Gerontius. "It is probable, indeed, that the first idea of composing such a dramatic work may have been suggested to Dr. Newman by the Autos Sacramentales of Spain, and especially by those of the illustrious Calderon; but, so far as I can learn, he has derived hardly anything from them beyond the vaguest hints, except, indeed, the all-important knowledge, that a profound religious feeUng can represent itself, and that effectively, in the outward form of a play. I may remark that these Spanish Autos of Calderon constitute be- yond all question a very wonderful and a very original school of poetry, and I am not without hope that, when I know my business a Uttle better, we may ex- amine them impartially together. Nay, even as it is, Calderon stands so indis- putably at the head of all Cathohc religious dramatists, among whom Dr. New- man has recently emolled himself, that perhaps it may not be out of place to in- quire for a moment into his poetical methods and aims, in order that we may then discover, if we can, how and why the disciple differs from his mas- ter. Now there is a great conflict of opinion as to the precise degree of merit which these particular Spanish dramas possess. Speaking as an igno- rant man, I should say, whilst those who disparage them seem rather hasty in their judgments, and not so well informed as could be wished, still the kind of praise which they receive from their most enthusiastic admirers puz- zles and does not instruct us. "Taking for example, the great German authority on this point, Dr. Lo- rinzer [Lorinser], as our guide, we see his poet looming dimly through a cloud of incense, which may embalm his memory, but certainly does not improve our eyesight. Indeed, according to him, any appreciation of Calderon is not to be dreamt of by a Protestant". Lectures, pp. 109, 110. With every respect for Sir F. H. Doyle, Dr. Lorinser says no such thing. He was too well informed of what had been done in Germany on the same subject, before he himself undertook the formidable task of attempting a complete translation of all the Autos of Calderon, to have fallen into such an error. Cardinal Diepenbrock, Archbishop of Breslau, who, in his Das Leben ein Traum (an Auto quite distinct from the well known drama La Vida es Sueno") first commenced this interesting labour in Germany, was of course a Catholic. But Eichendorff and Braunfels, who both preceded Dr. Lorinser, were Protestants. Augustus Sohlegel and Baron von Schack, who have writ- ten so profoundly and so truly on the Autos, are expressly referred to by Dr. Lorinser, and it is superfluous to say that they too were Protestants. Sir F. H. Doyle, in using my translation of the passage wliich will presently be quoted, changes the word 'thoroughly' into 'properly', as if it were a more correct rendering of the original. Unfortunately, however, there is nothing to represent .either word in the German. Dr. Lorinser says, that by many, not by all, Calderon cannot be enjoyed as much as he deserves, because a great Prefatory Note. number of persons best competent to judge of his merits are deficient in the knowledge of Catholic faith and Catholic theology which for the under- standing of Calderon is indispensible — "welche fiir Calderons Verstandniss unerldsslich ist". Sir F. H. Doyle says that to him these Autos are not "incomprehensible at aU" (p. 112), but then he understands them all the better for being a scholar and a churchman. Sir F. H.^Doyle thus continues his reference to Dr. Lorinser. " Even learned critics", he says, "highly cultivated in all the niceties of aesthetics, are defi- cient in the knowledge of Catholic faith and CathoUo theology properly to un- derstand Calderon" {Lectures, p. 110, taken from the Introduction to my vo- lume, p. 3). "Old traditions", continues Dr. Lorinzer, "which twine round the dogma like a beautiful garland of legends, deeply profound thoughts ex- pressed here and there by some of the Fathers of the Church, are made use of with such incredible skill and introduced so appositely at the right place, that .... frequently it is not easy to guess the source from whence they have been derived" (JLeciures, p. Ill, taken from the Introduction to my volume, p. 6). This surely is imquestionably true, and the argument used by Sir F. H. Doyle to controvert it does not go for much. These Autos, no doubt, were, as he says, "composed in the first instance to gratify, and did gra- tify, the uneducated populace of Madrid". Yes, the crowds that listened delighted and entranced to these woiiderful compositions, were, for the most part, "uneducated" in the ordinary meaning of that word. But in the special education necessary for their thorough enjoyment, the case was very different. It is not too much to say that, as the result of Catholic training, teaching, intuition, and association, the least instructed of Ms Madrid audience more easily understood Calderon's allusions, than the great majority of those who, reared up in totally different ideas, are able to do, even after much labour and sometimes with considerable sympathy. Mr. Tennyson says that he counts — " The gray barbarian lower than the Christian child", because the almost intuitive perceptions of a Christian child as to the nature of God and the truths of Revelation, place it intellectually higher than even the mature intelligence of a savage. I mean no disrespect to Sir F. H. Doyle, but I think that Calderon would have found at Madrid in the middle of the seven- teenth century, and would find there to-day, in a Catholic boy of fifteen, a more intelligent and a better instructed critic on these points, than even the learned professor himself. I shall make no further comments on Sir F. H. Doyle's Lecture, but give his remarks on Calderon's Autos to the end. "At the same time", says Sir F. H. Doyle, "Dr. Lorinzer's knowledge of his subject is so profound, and his appreciation of his favourite author so keen, that for me, who am almost entirely unacquainted with this branch of literature, formally to oppose his views, would be an act of presiunption, of which I am, as I trust, incapable. I may, however, perhaps be permitted to observe, that with regard to the few pieces of this kind which in an English diess I have read, whilst I think them not only most ingenious but also surprisingly beautiful, they do not strike me as incomprehensible at all. We must ac- cept them, of course, as coming from the mind of a devout Catholic and Spanish gentleman, who belongs to the seventeenth century ; but . when once that is agreed upon, there are no difHculties greater than those which we might expect to find in any system of poetry so remote from our English habits of thought. There is, for instance, the Divine Philothea, in other Prefatory Note. words, our human spirit considered as the destined bride of Christ. This eacred drama, we may well call it the swan-song of Calderon's extreme old age, is steeped throughout in a serene power and a mellow beauty of style, making it not unworthy to be ranked with that CEdipus Colonaeus which glorified the sun-set of his illustrious predecessor: but yet, Protestant as I am, I cannot discover that it is in the least obscure. Faith, Hope, Charity, the Five Senses, Heresy, Judaism, Paganism, Atheism, and the like, which in inferior hands must have been mere lay figures, are there instinct with a dra- matic life and energy such as beforehand I could hardly have supposed possible. Moreover, in spite of Dr. Lorinzer's odd encomiums, each allegory as it rises is more neatly rounded off, and shows a finer grain, than any of the personifications of Spenser; so that the religious effect and the theological effect intended by the writer, are both amply produced — yes, produced upon us, his heretical admirers. Hence, even if there be mysterious treasures of beauty below the surface, to which we aliens must remain blind for ever, this expression, which broke from the lips of one to whom I was eagerly reading [Mr. Mac-Carthy's translation of] the play, 'Why, in the original this ' must be as grand as Dante', tends to show that such merits as do come within our ken are not likely to be thrown away upon any fair-minded Protestant. Dr. Newman, as a Catholic, will have entered, I presume, more deeply still into the spirit of these extraordinary creations ; his life, how- ever, belongs to a different era and to a colder people. And thus, however much he may have been directed to the choice of a subject by the old Mys- teries and Moralities (of which these Spanish Autos must be taken as the final development and bright consummate flower), he has treated that sub- ject, when once undertaken by him, entirely from his own point of view. '.Gerontius' is meant to be studied and dwelt upon by the meditative reader. The Autos of Calderon were got ready by perhaps the most accomplished playwright that ever Uved, to amuse and stimulate a thronging southern popu- lation. ' Gerontius' is, we may perhaps say for Dr. Newman in the words of Shelley, 'Tile voice of his own aoul Heard in tlie calm of tliought'; whilst the conceptions of the Spanish dramatist burst into life with tumul- tuous music, gorgeous scenery^ and aE the pomp and splendour of the Catholic Church. No wonder therefore that our English Auto, though composed with the same genuine purpose of using verse, and dramatic verse, to promote a rehgious and even a theological end, should differ from them in essence as well as in form. There is room however for both kinds in the Avide em- pire of Poetry, and though Dr. Nevrman himself would be the first to cry shame upon me if I were to name him with Calderon even for a moment, still his Mystery of this most unmysterious age will, I believe, keep its honourable place in our English literature as an impressive, an attractive, and an ori- ginal production"— pp. 109, 115. I may mention that the volume containing Bthhazzar's Feast, and Tht Divine Philothea, the Auto particularly referred to by Sir F. H. Doyle, has been called Mysteries of Corpus Christi by the publisher. A not in- appropriate title, it would seem, from the last observations of the distinguished Professor. A third Auto, The Sorceries of Sin, is given in my Three Plays of Calderon, now on sale by Mr. B. Quaritch, 15 Piccadilly, London. The Divina Philothea, The Sorceries of Sin, and Belshazzar's Feast are the only Autos of Calderon that have ever been translated either fully, or, with one excep- tion, even partially into English. 74 Upper Gardiner Street. Dublin, ^' ^^ ^AC-CARTHY. March 1, 1870. 9 THE TWO LOYERS OF HEAYEN/ INTRODUCTION. jN the Teairo e&cogido de Don Pedro Calderon de la Barca (1868), at present in course of publication by the Royal Academy of Madrid, Calderon's dramas, exclusive of the autos saeramentales, which do not form a part of the collection, are divided into eight classes. The seventh of these comprises what the editor calls mystical dramas, and those founded on the Legends or the Lives of Saints. The eighth contains the philosophical or purely ideal dramas. This last division, in which the editor evidently tjiinks the genius of Calderon attained its highest develop- ment, at least as far as the secular theatre is concerned, con- tains but two dramas. The Wonder-working Magician, and lAfe 's a Dream. The mystical .dramas, which form the seventh division, are more numerous, but of these five are at present known to us only by name. Those that remain are Day-break in Copacabana, The Chains of the Demon, The Devotion of the Cross, The Purgatory of St. Patrick, The Sibyl of the East, The Virgin of the Sanctuary, and The Two Lovers of Heaven. The editor, Sr. D, P. De La Escosura, seems to think it necessary to offer some apology for not including The Two Lovers of Heaven among the philosophical instead of the mystical dramas. He says: "There is a great analogy and, perhaps, resemblance be- tween El Magico Prodigioso (The Wonder-working Magician), ' Los dos amantes del cielo .- Crisanto y Daria. Comedias de Don Pedro Calderon de la Barca. For Don Juan Eugenio Hartzenbusch. Madrid, 1856, tomo 3, p. 234. Introduction. and Los dos amantes del cielo (The Two Lovers of Heaven); but in the second, as it seems to us, the purely mystical predo- minates in such a manner over the philosophical, that it does not admit of its being classified in the same group as the first {El Magico Prodigioso), andZa Vida es Sueno (Life 's a Dream)". Introduccion, p. cxxxvii. note. Whether this distinction is well founded or not it is unnecessary to determine. It is suffi- cient for our purpose that it establishes the high position among the greatest plays of Calderon of the drama which is here pre- sented to the English reader in the peculiar and always diffi- cult versification of the original. Whether less philosophical or more mystical than The Wonder-working Magician, The Two Lovers of Heaven possesses a charm of its own in which its more famous rival seems deficient. In the admirable Essay on the Genius of Calderon (ch. ii. p. 34), with which i^rchbishop Trench introduces his spirited analysis of La Vida es Sueno, he refers to the group of dramas which forms, with one exception, the seventh and eighth divisions of the classification above re- ferred to, and pays a just tribute to the superior merits of Los dos amantes del cielo. After alluding to the dramas, the argu- ment of which is drawn from the Old Testament, and especially to Tlie Lochs of Absalom, which he considers the noblest speci- men, he continues: "Still more have to do with the heroic martyrdoms and other legends of Christian antiquity, the vic- tories of the Cross of Christ over all the fleshly and spiritual wickednesses of the ancient heathen world. To this theme, which is one almost undrawn upon in our Elizabethan drama, — Massinger's Virgin Martyr is the only example I remember,— he returns continually, and he has elaborated these plays with peculiar care. Of these The Wonder-working Magician is most celebrated; but others, as The Joseph of Women, The Two Lovers of Heaven, quite deserve to be placed on a level, if not higher than it.* A tender pathetic grace is shed over this last, which gives it a peculiar charm. Then too he has occupied what one might venture to call the region of- sacred mythology, as in The Sibyl of the East, in which the profound legends iden- tifying the Cross of Calvary and the Tree of Life are wrought Introduction. up into a poem of surpassing beauty".* An excellent German version of Los dos amanles del cielo is to be found in the second volume of the Spanisches Theater, by Schack, whose im- portant work on Dramatic Art and Literature in Spain, is still untranslated into the language of that country, — a singular neg- lect, when his later and less elaborate work, Poesie und Kunst der Araber m Spanien und Sicilien (Berlin, 1865), has already found an excellent Spanish interpreter in Don Juan Valera, two volumes of whose Poesia y Arte de las Arabes en Espana y Sicilia (Madrid, 1868), I was fortunate enough to meet with during a recent visit to Spain. The story of SS. Chrysanthus and Daria {The Two Lovers of Heaven), whose martyrdom took place at Rome a.d. 284, and whose festival occurs on the 25th of October, is to be found in a very abridged form in the Legenda Aurea of Jacobus de Voragine, c. 152. The fullest account, and that which Calderon had evidently before him when writing The Two Lovers of Heaven, is given by Surius in his great work, De Probatis Sanctorum Vitis, October, p. 378. This history is referred to by Villegas at the conclusion of his own condensed narrative in the following passage, which I take from the old English version of his Lives of Saints, by John Heigham, anno 1630. " The Church doth celebrate the feast of SS. Chrisanthus and Daria, the 25th of October, and their death was in the year of our Lord God 284, in the raigne of Numerianus, Emperor. The martyrdom of these saints was written by Verinus and Armenius, priests of St. Stephen, Pope and Martyr: Metaph- rastes enlarged it somewhat more. St. Damasus made certain eloquent verses in praise of these saints, and set them on their tombe. There is mention of them also in the Romaine Mar- tirologe, and in that of Usuardus: as also in the 5. tome of Surius ; in Cardinal Baronius, and Gregory of Turonensis", p. 849. ' It may be added to what Dr. Trench has so well said, that Calderon's auto, "El arbol del mejor Fruto" (TVie Tree of the choicest Fruit), is founded on the same sublime theme. It is translated into German by LoHnser, under the title of "Der Baum der bessem Frucht", Breslau, 1861. Introduction. A different abridgment of the story as given by Surius, is to be found in Ribadeneyra's Flos Sanctorum (the edition before me being that oi Barcelona, 1790, t. 3. p. 304). It concludes with the same list of authorities, which, however, is given with more precision. The old English translation by W. P. Esq., second edition: London, 1730, p. 369, gives them thus: " Surius in his fifth tome, and Cardinal Baronius in his Anno- tations upon the Martyrologies, and in the second tome of his Annals, and St. Gregory of Tours in his Book of the Glory of the Martyrs, make mention of the Saints Chrysanthus and Daria". The following is taken from Caxton's Golden Legende, or translation of the Legenda Aurea of Jacobus de Voragine. I have transcribed from the following edition, which is thus degcribed in the Colophon: " The legende named in latyn Legenda Aurea, that is to say in englyshe the golden legende. For lyke as golde passeth all other metalles, so this boke excedeth all other bokes". "Finyshed the xxvii daye of August, the yere of our lord M. CCCCC. XXVII, the xix yere of the regne of our souverayne lord Kynge Henry the eyght. Imprynted at London in Flete Strete at the Sygne of the Sonne by Wynkyn de Worde". In the following extract the spelling is somewhat modernised, and a few obsolete words are omitted. " The Life of Saynt Crysant and Saynte Daria". Fo. cc.lxxxv. " Here folio we th the lyfe of Saynt Crysaunt, and fyrst of his name. And of Saynte Daria, and of her name. " Of Crysaunt is said as growen and multyplyed of God. For when his father would have made hym do sacrifyce to the idols, God gave to hym force and power to contrary and gayn- say his father, and yield himself to God. Daria is sayd of dare to give, for she gave her to two thynges. Fyrst will to do evil, when she had will to draw Crysaunt to sacrifyce to the idols. And after she gave her to good will when Crysaunt had con- verted her to Almighty God. "Crysaunt was son of a ryght noble man that was named Polymne. And when his father saw that his son was taught in Introduction. the faith of Jesu Chryst, and that he could not withdraw him therefrom, and make him do saorifyce to the idols, he com- manded that he should be closed in a stronge hold and put to hym five maidens for to seduce him with blandyshynge and fayre wordes. And when he had prayed God that he should not be surmounted with no fleshly desyre, anon these maydens were so overcome with slepe, that they myght not take neither meat ne drinke as long as they were there, but as soon as they were out, they took both meat and drinke. And one Daria, a noble and wise virgin of the goddess Vesta, arrayed her nobly with clothes as she had been a goddess, and prayed that she myght be letten enter in -to Crysant and that she would restore him to the idols and to his father. And when she was come in, Crysant reproved her of the pride of her vesture. And she answered that she had not done it for pride but for to draw him to do sacrifyce to the idols and restore him to his father. And then Crysant reproved her because she worshipped them as gods. For they had been in their times evil and sinners. And Daria answered, the philosophers called the elements by the names of men. And Crysant said to her, if one worship the earth as a goddess, and another work and labour the earth as a churl or ploughman, to whom giveth the earth most? It is plain that it giveth more to the ploughman than to him that worshippeth it. And in like wise he said of the sea and of the other ele- ments. And then Crysant and Daria converted to him, coupled them together by the grace of the Holy Ghost, and feigned to be joined by carnal marriage, and converted many others to our Lord. For Claudian, who had been one of their persecutors, they converted to the faith of our Lord, with his wife and chil- dren and many other knights. And after this Crysant was en- closed in a stinking prison by the commandment of Numerian, but the stink turned anon into a right sweet odour and savour. And Daria was brought to the bordel, but a lion that was in the amphitheatre came and kept the door of the bordel. And then there was sent thither a man to befoul and corrupt the virgin, but anon he was taken by the lion, and the lion began to look at the virgin like as he demanded what he should do with the Introduction. caitiff. And the virgin commanded that he should do him no hurt but let him go. And anon he was converted and ran through the city, and began to cry that Daiia was a goddess. And then hunters were sent thither to take the lion. And they anon fell down at the feet of the virgin and were converted by her. And then the provost commanded them to make a great fire within the entrance of the bordel, so that the lion should be brent with Daria. And the lion considering this thing, felt dread, and roaring took leave of the virgin, and went whither he would without hurting of any body. And when the provost had done to Crysant and Daria many diverse torments, and might not grieve them, at the last they without compassion were put in a deep pit, and earth and stones thrown on them. And so were consecrated martyrs of Christ". With regard to the exact year in which the martyrdom of SS. Chrysanthus and Daria took place, it may be mentioned that in the valuable Vies des Saints, Paris, 1701 (republished in 1739), where the whole legend undergoes a very critical ex- amination, the generally received date, a d. 284, is considered erroneous. The reign of the emperor Numerianus (a.d. 283- 284), in which it is alleged to have occurred, lasted but eight months, during which period no persecution of the Christians is recorded. The writer in the work just quoted (Adrien Baillet) conjectures that the martyrdom of these saints took place in the reign of Valerian, and not later than the month of August, 257, " s' il est vray que le pape Saint Etienne qui mourut alors avoit donne ordre qu' on recueillit les actes de leur martyre" — Les Vies des Saints, Paris, 1739, t. vii. p. 385. 10 THE TWO LOVERS OF HEAVEN. PERSONS. NuMEEiANtrs, Emperor of Borne. Polemics, Chief Senator. Chktsanthus, his son. Claudius, cousin of Chrysauthus. AuHEuus, a Roman general. Cakpophorus, a venerable priest. EscAHPiN, servant of Chrysanthuu. Dakia, Cynthia, NiSIDA, Chloeis, Two spirits. Angels. Soldiers, servants, people, muiic, etc. . Priestesses of Diana. Scene ; Rome and its environs. ACT THE FIRST. Scene I. — A Room in the house of Polemius at Rome. Chrysanthus is seen sealed near a writing table on which are several books : he is reading a small volume with deep attention. Chktsanthus. Ah I how shallow is my mind ! How confined ! and how restricted !' Ah ! how driftless are my words 1 And my thoughts themselves how driftless I Since I cannot comprehend. Cannot pierce the secrets hidden In this little book that I Found by chance with others mingled. I its meaning cannot reach, Howsoe'er my mind I rivet, Though to this, and this alone. Many a day has now been given. But I cannot therefore yield. Must not own myself outwitted: — No ; a studious toil so great Should not end in aught so little. O'er this book my whole life long Shall I brood untU the riddle Is made plain, or t0 some sage ' The whole of the first scene is in asonante verse, the vowels being i, e, as in "restricted", "driftless", "hidden", etc. These vowels, or their equivalents in sound, will be found pretty accurately represented in the last two syllables of every alternate line throughout the scene, which ends at p. 25, and where the verse ch in j es into the f u 11 consonant rhyme. 11 The Two Lovers of Heaven. Simplifies what here is written. Por which end I '11 read once more Its beginning. How my instinct Uses the same word with which Even the book itself beginneth! — "In the thinning was the Word" . .* If in language plain and simple Word means speech, how then was it In the beginning? Since a whisper Presupposes power to breathe it, Proves an earlier existence, And to that anterior Power Here the book doth not bear witness. Then this follows : " And the Word Was with God"— nay more, 't is writ- ten, "And the Word was God: was with Him In the beginning, and by Him then All created things were made And without Him naught was fin- ished":— Oh I what mysteries, what wonders. In this tangled labyrinthine Maze lie hid ! which I so many Years hare studied, with such mingled Aid from lore divine and human Have in vain tried to unriddle ! — "In the beginning was the Word" Yes, but when was this beginning? Was it when Jove, Neptune, Pluto Shared the triple zones betwixt them, When the one took to himself Heaven supreme, one hell's abysses. And the sea the third, to Ceres Leaving earth, the ever- winged Time to Saturn, fire to Phoebus, And the air to Jove's great sister?^ — No, it could not have been then, For the fact of their partition Shows that heaven and earth then were, Shows that sea and land existed : — The beginning then must be Something more remote and distant : He who has expressly said " The resemblance between certain parts of Goethe's Faust and The Wonder- Working Magician of Calderon has been frequently alluded to, and has given rise to a good deal of discussion. In the controversy as to how much the Ger- man poet was indebted to the Spanish, I do not recollect any reference to The 2 wo Lovers of Heaven. The follo\ving passage, however, both in its spirit and Uhguage, presents a singular likenfess to the more elaborate discussion of the same difficulty in the text. The scene is in Paustus's study. Paustus, as in the present play, takes up a volume of the New Testament, and thus pro- ceeds : " In the beginning was the Woed". Alas ! The first Une stops me : how shall I proceed ? " The word " cannot express the meaning here. I must translate the passage differently, If by the spirit I am rightly guided. Once moi-e, — "In the beginning was the Thought". — Consider the first line attentively. Lest hiirrying on too fast, you lose the meaning. Was it then Thovght that has created all things? Can thought make matter? Let us try the line Once more, — "In The beginning was the Poiver" — This will not do — even while I write the plirase, I feel its faults— oh 1 help me, holy Spirit, I '11 weigh the passage once again, and write Boldly, — "In the beginning was the Act". Anster's Faustus, Francfort ed., 1841, p. 63. » The same line of argument is worked out with wonderful subtlety of thought and beftuty of poetical expression by Caldel-on, in one of the finest of his Autos Sacramentales, "The Sacred Parnassus". Autos Sacramentales, torn. vi. p. 10. 1-Z The Two Lovers of Heaven. The beginning, must have hinted If Thou 'rt light, my darkened senses At the prhnal cause of all things, With Thy life and Ught enkindle!— At the first and great beginning, (The voices of two spirits are heard Jrom All things gro-wing out of Him, within, one at each side.) He himself the pre-existent : — First Voice. Yes, but then a new beginning Hear, Chrysanthus . . . Must we seek for this beginner, Second Voice. And so on ad infinitum ; Listen . . . Since if I, on soaring pinion Chrtsanthus. Seek from facts to rise to causes. Two Eising still from where I had risen. Voices, if they are not instincts. I will find at length there is Shadows without soul or body. No beginning to the beginning. Which my fancy forms within me. And the inference that time Are contending in my bosom Somehow was, ere time existed. Each with each at the same instant. And that that which ne'er begun (Two figures appear onhigh, one clothed Ne'er can end, is plain and simple. in a dark robe doited with stars ; the But, my thought, remain not here. other in a bright and beautiful mantle : Rest not in those narrow limits. Chrysanthus does not see them, but in But rise up with me and dare the following scene ever speaks to Heights that make the brain grow himself) dizzy: — First Voice. And at once to enter there, What this crabbed text here meaneth Other things being pretermitted, By the Word, is plain and simple, Let us venture where the mind. It is Jove to whose great voice As the darkness round it thickens, Gods and men obedient listen. Almost faints as we resume Chrtsanthus. What this mystic scribe has written. Jove, it must be Jove, by whom "And the Word", this writer says. Breath, speech, hfe itself are given. "Was made flesh!" Ahl how can Second Voice. this he? What the holy Gospel means Could the Word that in the beginning By the Word, is that great Spirit Was with God, was God, was gifted Who was in Himself for ever, With such power as to make all things, First, last, always self-existent. Could it be made flesh ? In pity, Chrysanthus. Heavens ! or take from me at once Self -existent ! first and last! All the sense that you have given me. Reason cannot grasp that dictum. Or at once on me bestow First Voice. Some intelligence, some glimmer In the beginning of the world Of clear light through these dark sha- Jove in heaven his high throne fixed, dows. — Leaving less imperial thrones Deity, unknown and hidden, To the other gods to fill them. God or Word, whate'er thou beest, Chktsanthtis. Of Thyself the great beginner, Yes, if he could not alone Of Thyself the end, if. Thou Rule creation unassisted. Being Thyself beyond time's sickle, Second Voice. Stfll in time the world didst fashion, God was God, long, long before If Thou 'rt life, living spirit, Earth or heaven's blue vault existed. 1 6 The Two Lovers of Heaven. He was in Himself, ere He Gave to time its lite and mission. First Voice. Worship only pay to Jove, God o'er all our gods uplifted. Second Voice. Worship pay to God alone. He the infinite, the omniscient. First Voice. He doth lord the world below. Second Voice. He is Lord of Heaven's high kingdom. First Voice. Shun the lightnings of hia wrath. Second Voice. Seek the waves of his forgiveness. {The Figures disappear. Chetsanthtjs. Oh! what darkness, what confusion. In myself I find here pitted 'Gainst each other I Spirits twain Struggle desperately within me. Spirits twain of good and ill, — One with gentle impulse wins me To believe, but, oh I the other With opposing force resistless Drives me back to doubt: Ohl who Will dispel these doubts that fill me ? PoLEMius (withiri). Yes, Carpophorus must pay Tor the trouble that this gives me. — Chkysanihcs. Though these words by chance were spoken As an omen I '11 admit them: Since Carpophorus (who in Kome Was the most renowned, most gifted Master in all science), now Flying from the emperor's lictors, Through suspect of being a Christian, In lone deserts wild and dismal Lives a saintly savage Ufe, He will give to all my wishes The solution of these doubts : — And till then, restless thinking Torture me and tease no more ! Let me live for that ! [fits voice gra- dually rises. EscARPiN (within'). Within thers My young master caUs. Clattdius (within). AH enter. (Fnier Polemivs, Claudius, Aurelius, and Escarpin). PoLEMIUS. My Chrysanthus, what afflicts thee? Chrtsanthus. Canst thou have been here, my father? POLEMIUS. No, my son, 't was but this instant That I entered here, alarmed By the strange and sudden shrillness Of thy voice; and though I had On my hands important business, Grave and weighty, since to me Hath the Emperor transmitted This decree, which bids me search Through the mountains for the Chris- tians Hidden there, and specially Eor Carpophorus, their admitted Chief and teacher, for wliich cause I my voice too thus uplifted — " Yes, Carpophorus must pay For the trouble that this gives me" — I left all at hearing thee. — Why so absent? so bewildered? Wliat 's the reason? Chrtsanthus. Sir, 't is naught. PoLEMins. Whom didst thou address ? Chrtsanthtts. Here sitting I was reading to myself. And perchance conceived some image I may have addressed in words Wliich have from my memory flitted. POLEMIUS. The grave sadness that o'erwhehns thee Will, unless it be resisted, Undermine thy understanding, If thou hast it still within thee. Claudius. 'T is a loud soliloquy, 14 The Two Lovers of Heaven. 'T is a rather audible whisper That compels one's friends to hasten Full of fear to his assistance! Chktsanthus. Well, excitement may . . . Polemics. Ohl cease; That excuse -will scarce acquit thee, Since when one 's alone, excitement Is a flame that 's seldom kindled. I am pleased, well pleased to see thee To the lore of books addicted. But then application should not To extremes like this be driven, Nor should letters aUenate thee From thy country, friends, and kins- ^ men. Ci/AUDins. A young man by heaven so favoured. With such rare endowments gifted. Blessed with noble birth and valour. Dowered with genius, rank, and riches. Can he yield to such enthralment. Can he make his room a prison. Can he waste in idle reading The fair flower of his existence? POLEMIUS. Dost thou not remember also That thou art my son? Bethink thee That the great Numerianus, Our good emperor, has given me The grand government of Rome As chief senator of the city, And with that imperial burden The whole world too — all the kingdoms. All the provinces subjected To its varied, vast dominion. Know'st thou not, from Alexandria, From my native land, my birth-place. Where on many a proud escutcheon My ancestral fame is written. That he brought me here, the weight Of his great crown to bear with him. And that Eome upon my entry Gave to me a recognition That repaid the debt it owed me. Since the victories were admitted Which in glorious alternation By my sword and pen were given her ? Through what vanity, what folly, WUt thou not enjoy thy birth-right As my son and heir, indulging Solely ia these idle whimseys? — Chetsanthus. Sir, the state in which you see me, This secluded room, this stillness, Do not spring from want of feeling, Or indifference to your wishes. 'T is my natural disposition; For I have no taste to mingle In the vulgar vain pursuits Of the courtier crowds ambitious. And if living to myself here More of true enjoyment gives me. Why would you desire me seek for That which must my joys diminish? Let this time of sadness pass. Let these hours of lonely vigU, Then for fame and its applauses, Which no merit of my own. But my father's name may bring me. PoLEMins. Would it not, my son, be fitter That you should enjoy those plaudits In the fresh and blooming spring-time Of your life, and to hereafter Leave the loneliness and vigU? ESCAEPIN. Let me tell a little story Which wiU make the whole thing simple : — A bad painter bought a house. Altogether a bad business. For the house itself was bad : He however was quite smitten With his purchase, and would show it To a friend of his, keen-witted. But bad also : when they entered, The first room was like a kitchen. Black and bad: — "This room, you see, sir. Now is bad, but just permit me First to have it whitewashed over. Then shall my own hand with pictures Pa int the walls from fioor to ceiling, 15 The Two Lovers of Heaven. Then you '11 see how bright 't will I '11 be bound he '11 be so quickly. glisten". — Merely to oblige you. To him thus his friend made answer. POLEMIBS. Smiling archly: "Yes, 't will glisten. This But if you would paint it first, Is not quite as I would wish it, And then whitewash o'er the pictures, For when anything has happened, The effect would be much better". — The desire to know it, differs Now 's the time for you, my lord. From the wish it so should happen. To lay on the shining pigment : Claudius. On that brilliant ground hereafter I, my lord, my best assistance Will the whitewash fall more fitly, Offer thee to strive and fathom For, in fine, the poorest painting From what cause can have arisen Is improved by time's slow finger. Such dejection and such sadness ; Chktsanihus. This henceforth shall be my business Sir, I say, that in obedience To divert him and distract him. To your precepts, to your wishes, POLEMIUS. I wiU strive from this day forward Such precisely are my wishes : So to act, that you will think me And since now I am forced to go Changed into another being. \_Exit. In obedience to the mission POLEMIUS. Sent me by Numerianus, Claudius, my paternal instinct 'Mid the wastes to search for Chris- Makes me fear Chrysanthus' sadness, tians, Makes we tremble that its issue In my absence, Claudius, May result in total madness. Most consoling thoughts 't will give me, Since thou art his friend and kins- To remember that thou watchest man O'er Chrysanthus. Both combined, make out, I pray thee. Claudius. What occasions this bewitchment, From this instant To the end that I may break it : Until thy return, I promise And my promise now I give thee, Not to leave his side. That although I should discover POLEMIUS. Love's delirious dream delicious Aurelius . . . May be at the root,— most likely AUEELIUS. At his age the true suspicion, — My good lord. It shall not disturb or grieve me. POLEMIUS. Nay, since I am doomed to witness Art sure thou kuowest His dejection, it will glad me In this mountain the well-liidden To find out that so it springeth. Cave wherein Carpophorus dwelleth? ESCARPIN. Aurelius. Once a high priest of Apollo Him I promise to deliver Had two nephews soft and silly, To thy hands. More than sUly, wretched creatures. POLEMIUS. More than wretched, doltish drivels ; Then lead the soldiers And perceiving from experience Stealtliily and with aU quickness How love smartens up its victims. To the spot, for all must perish He but said to them this only, Who are there found hiding with "Fall in love at least, ye ninnies".— him: — Thus, though not in love, sir, now. For the care with which, ye Heavens! 16 The Two Lovers of Heaven. I uphold the true religion Of the gods, their faith and worship, For the zeal that I exhibit In thus crushing Christ's new law, Which I hate with every instinct Of my soul, oh 1 grant my guerdon In the cure of my son's illness I [Exeunt Pohmius and Aurelius. CLArrBius (to Esoarpin). Go and teU my lord Chrysanthus That I wish he would come with me Forth to-day for relaxation. Esoarpin. Relaxation ! just say whither Are we to go forth to get it ; Of that comfort I get little — Clatjdics. Outside Rome, Diana's temple On the Salarian way uplifteth Its majestic front : the fairest Of our Roman maids dwell in it : 'T is the custom, as thou knowest. That the loveliest of Rome's children Whom patrician blood ennobles. From their tender years go thither To be priestesses of the goddess, Living there till 't is permitted They should marry : 't is the centre Of all charms, the magic circle Drawn around a land of beauty — Home of deities — Elysium! — And as great Diana is Goddess of the groves, her children Have to her an altar raised In the lovehest cool green thicket. Thither, when the evening falleth, And the season is propitious. Various squadrons of fair nymphs Hasten : and it is permitted Gallant youths, unmarried also. As an. escort to go with them. There this evening will I lead him. EscARprs. Well, I doubt that your prescription Is the best : for fair recluses, Whose sublime pursuits, restricted To celestial things, make even The most innocent thought seem wicked, Ai-e by no means likely persons To divert a man afflicted With this melancholy madness : Better take him into the thickest Throng of Rome, there flesh and bone Goddesses he '11 find, and fitter Claudius. Ah ! you speak but as the vulgar : Is it not the bliss of blisses To adore some lovely being In the ideal, in the distance. Almost as a vision?— ESOAKPIN. Yes; 'T is dehghtful; I admit it, But there 's good and better : think Of the choice that once a simple Mother gave her son : she said : "Egg or rasher, which will I give thee?" And he said : " The rasher, mother. But with the egg upon it, prithee". " Both are best", so says the proverb. Clauihus. Well, if tastes did n't sometimes differ, What a notable mistake Providence would have committed! To adore thee, sweetest Cynthia, [aside Is the height of all my wishes : As it well may be, for am I Worthy, worship even to give her? [Exeunt. Scene the Second A Wood near Rome. {Enter Nisida and Chlorm, the latter with a lyre'). Nisida. Have you brought the instrument? Chlobis. Yes. Nisida. Then give it me, for here In this tranquil forest sphere. Where the boughs and blossoms blent. Ruby blooms and emerald stems. Round about their radiance fling, Where the canopy of spring 17 The Two Lovers of Heaven. Breathes of flowers and gleams with gems, Here I wish that air to play, Which to words that Cynthia wrote I have set — a simple note. Chlokis. And the song, senora, say, What 's the theme? NlSIDA. A touching strain, — How a nightingale in a grove Singing sweetly of his love, Sang its pleasure and its pain. Enter Cynthia (reading in a book'). Ctnthia (to herself). Whilst each alley here discloses Youthful nymphs, who as they pass To Diana's shrine, the grass Turn to beds of fragrant roses, — Where the interlaced bars Of these woods their beauty dowers Seem a verdant sky of flowers — Seem an azure field of stars. I shall here recline and read (While they wander through the grove) Ovid's Remedy of Love. NisiDA {to Ohloris). Hear the words and air. Chlokis. Proceed. Nisid A (singing). nightingale, whose sweet exulting strain Tells of thy triumphs to the listening grove, Thou fiU'st my heart with envy and with pain. But no ; but no ; for if thou sing'st of love. Jealousy's pangs and sorrow's tears remain. Ctnthia (advancing). What a charming air I To me What an honour I From this day 1 may well be vain, as they May without presumption be. Who, despite their numerous slips, Find their words can please the ear. Who their rugged verses hear Turn to music on thy lips. NiSIDA. 'T is thine own genius, not my skill. That produces this effect ; For, without it, I suspect. Would my voice sound harsh and shrill. And my lute's strings should be broken With a just and wholesome rigour, For presuming to disfigure What thy words so well have spoken. Whither wert thou wending here ? Cththia. Through the quiet wood proceeding, I the poet's book was reading, When ther^ fell upon my ear, Soft and sweet, thy voice : its power. Gentle lodestone of my feet. Brought me to this green retreat — Led me to this lonely bower : But what wonder, when to listen To thy sweetly warbled words Ceased the music of the birds — Of the founts that glide and glisten ? May I hope that, since I came Thus so opportunely near, I the gloss may also hear ? NiSIDA. I wiU sing it, though with shame. {Sings) Sweet nightingale, that from some echoing grot Singest the rapture of thy love aloud, Singestwithvoice so joyous and so proud. All unforgetting thou mayst be forgot. Full of thyself and of thy happy lot ! Ah ! when thou triUest that triumphant strain To all the listening lyrists of the grove, Thou fill'st my heart with envy and with pain ! But no ; but no ; for if thou sing'st of love, Jealousy's pangs and sorrow's tears re- main ! Enter Dabia. Daria. Ah ! my Nisida, forbear, ia The Two Lovers of Heaven. Ah I those words forbear to sing, Which on zephyr's wanton wing Thou shouldst waft not on the air. All is wrong, how sweet it be. That the vestal's thoughts reprove : What is jealousy ? what is love ? That they should be sung by thee ? Think this wood is consecrated To Diana's service solely, Not to Venus : it is holy. Why then wouldst thou desecrate it With thy songs ? Does 't not amaze Thee thyself — this strangest thing — In Diana's grove to sing Hymns of love to Cupid's praise ? But I need not wonder, no. That thou 'rt so amused, since I Here see Cynthia with thee. Cynthia. Why Dost thou say so ? Dakia. I say so For good cause : in books profane Thou unceasingly deUghtest, Verse thou readest, verse thou writest, Of their very vanity vain. And if thou wouldst have me prove What I say to thy proceeding, TeU me, what 's this book thou 'rt reading ? Ctnthia. 'T is The Remedy of Love. Whence thou mayst perceive how weak Is thy inference, thy deduction From my studious self -instruction ; Since the patient who doth seek Remedies to cure his pain Shows by this he would grow better ; — For the slave who breaks his fetter Cannot surely love his chain. NlSIDA. This, though not put quite so strong, Was involved in the conclusion Of my lay : Love's disillusion Was the burden of my song. Dakia. Remedies and disillusions. Sjek ye both beneath one star? Ah ! if so, you are not far From its pains and its confusions : For the very fact of pleading Disillusion, shows that thou 'Neath illusion's yoke doth bow, — And the patient who is needing Remedies doth prove that still The sharp pang he doth endure, For there 's no one seeks a cure Ere he feels that he is ill : — Therefore to this wrong proceeding Grieved am I to see ye clinging — Seeking thou thy cure in singing — Thou thy remedy in reading. Ctnthia. Casual actions of this class That are done without intention Of a second end, to mention Here were out of place : I pass To another point : There 's no one Who with genius, or denied it, — Dowered with mind, but has applied it Some especial track to go on : This variety suffices For its exercise and action, Just as some by free attraction Seek the virtues and the vices ; — This blind instinct, or this duty, We three share; — 't is thy delight Nisida to sing, — to write Mine, — and thine to adore thy beauty. Which of these three occupations Is the best — or those that need Skill and labour to succeed. Or thine own vain contemplations ? — Have I not, when morning's rays Gladdened grove and vale and moun- tain. Seen thee in the crystal fountain At thyself enamoured gaze? Wherefore, once again returning To our argument of love. Thou a greater pang must prove. If from thy insatiate yearning I infer a cause : the spell Lighter falls on one who still. To herself not feeling ill. l\i The Two Lovers of Heaven. Would in other eyes seem well. This disdain so strange and strong, Dakia. This delusion Uttle heeding. Ah ! so far, so far from me Nisida. Is the wish as rain as weak — Yes, do thou resume thy reading. (Now my virtue doth not speak, I too will resume my song. Now but speaks my yanity), Daria. Ah! so far, I say, my breast I, that I may not renew Turns away from things of love, Such reproaches, whilst you sing, That the sovereign hand of Jove, Whilst you read, in this clear spring Were it to attempt its best, Thoughtfully myself shall view. Could no greater wonder work. Nisida sings. Than that I, Daria, should nightingale, whose sweet exulting So be changed in mind and mood strain As to let within me lurk Tells of thy triumphs to the listening Love's minutest, smallest seed: — grove. Only upon one condition Thou flU'st my heart with envy and Could I love, and that fruition with pain! — Then would be my pride indeed. But no, but no, for if thou sing's! of Cynthia. love What may that condition be? Jealousy's pangs and sorrow's tears Daria. remain ! When of all mankind, I knew Enter Chrtsanthtjs, Claudius, and One who felt a love so true ESCARPIN. As to give his life for me, Claudius, to Chrysanthus. Then, until my own life fled. Does not the beauty of this wood, Him, with gratitude and pride. Tliis tranquil wood, delight thee? Were I sure that so he died, Chrtsanthus. I would love though he were dead. Yes: NiSIDA. Here nature's lord doth dower and Poor reward for love so great bless Were that tardy recollection, The world in most indulgent mood. Since, it seems, for thy affection Who could believe this greenwood here He, tiU life is o'er, must wait. For the first time has blessed mine Ctnthia. eyes ? Soars thy vanity so high? Claudius. Thy presumption is above It is the second Pai-adise, All belief: be sure, for love Of deities the verdant sphere. No man wiU be found to die. Chrysanthus. Dakia. 'T is more, this green and grassy glade Why more words then? love must be Whither our careless steps have strolled, In my case denied by heaven : For here three objects we behold Since my love cannot be given Equally fair by distance made. Save to one who '11 die for me. Of these that chain our willing feet. Ctnthia. There yonder where the path is lead- Thy ambition is a thing ing. So sublime, what can be said? — One is a lady calmly reading. Better I resumed and read, One is a lady singing sweet. Better, Nisida, thou shouldst sing. And one whose rapt though idle air 2U Tlie Two Lovers of Heaven. Gives us to understand this truth — A -woman blessed with charms and youth, Does quite enough in being fair. ESOARPIN. You are quite right in that, I Ve seen Beauties enough of that sort too. Cl-AODIUS. If of the three here given to view, The choice were thine to choose be- tween. Which of them best would suit thy taste? Which wouldst thou make thy choice of, say? Chbtsanihus. I do not know : for in one way They so with equal gifts are graced. So musical and fair and wise, That while one captivates the mind, One works her witcheries with the wind, And one, the fairest, charms our eyes. The one who sings, it seems a duty. Trusting her sweet voice, to think sweet. The one who reads, to deem discreet. The third, we judge but by her beauty ; And so I fear by act or word To wrong the three by judging Ul, Of one her charms, of one her skiU, And the intelligence of the third. For to choose one does wrong to two, But if I so presumed to dare . . . Claudius. Which would it be? Chktsanthus. The one that 's fair. ESCARPIN. My blessings on your choice and you ! That 's my opinion in the case, 'T is plain at least to my discerning That in a woman wit and learning Are nothing to a pretty face. NiSIDA. Chloris, quick, take up the lyre. For a rustling noise I hear In this shady thicket near: Yes, I 'm right, I must retire. ' ' Swift as feet can fly I '11 go. For these men that here have strayed Must have heard me while I played. [^Exeunt Nisida and Chloris. Ctnthia. One of them I think I know. Yes, 't is Claudius, as I thought. Now he has a chance: I 'U see If he cares to follow me. Guessing rightly what has brought Me to-day unto the grove : — Ah I if love to grief is leading Of what use to me is reading la ihe Remedies of Love^ [_Exit. Daeia (to herself). In these bowers by trees o'ergrown, Here contented I remain, AH companionship is vain. Save my own sweet thoughts alone:— Claudius. Dear Chiysanthus, your election Was to me both loss and gain. Gave me pleasure, gave me pain: — It seemed plain to my affection (Being in love) your choice should fall On the maid of pensive look. Not on her who read the book: But your praise made up for all. And since each has equal force, My complaint and gratulation, Whilst with trembling expectation I pursue my own love's course. Try your fortune too, tiU we Meet again. [Exit. Chktsanthus. Confused I stay. Without power to go away, Spirit-bound, my feet not free. From the instant that on me. As a sudden beam might dart. Flashed that form which Phidian art Could not reach, I 've known no rest. Babylon is in my breast — Troy is burning in my heart. ESCAKPIN. Strange that I should feel as you, That one thought should fire us two. 21 The Two Lovers of Heaven. I too, sir, have lost my senses Leave me in the solitude Since I saw that lady. I enjoyed ere you came here. Chetsanthub. Chetsanthtjs. Who, Sweetly, but with tone severe. Madman 1 fool! do you speak of? you! Thus my error you reprove — Dare to feel those griefs of mine I — That of asking in this grove ESCAKPIN. What your name ia : you 're so fair. No, sir, yours I quite resign. That, whatever name you bear. Wotild I could my own ones too 1— I must tell you of my love. Chrtsanthus. Daet*. Leave me, or my wrath you '11 rue ; Love 1 a word to me unknown. Hence 1 buffoon: by heaven I swear it, Sounds so strangely in my ears. I will kill you else. That my heart nor feels nor hears ESCAEPIN. Aught of it when it has flown. Igo:— Chetsanthtjs. For if you address her, oh 1 Then there is no rashness shown Could my jealous bosom bear it? [aside In repeating it once more, [Exit. Since to hear or to ignore Chetsanthtts (to Daria). Suits alike your stoic coldness. It my boldness so may dare it. Daeia. I desire to ask, senora, Yes, the speech, but not the boldness If thou art this heaven's Aurora, Of the speaker I pass o'er. If the goddess of this fountain. For this word, whate'er it be, If the Juno of this mountain. When it breaks upon my ear. If of these bright flowers the Flora, Quick 't is gone, although I hear. So that I may rightly know Chetsanthub. In what style should speak to thee You forget it? My hushed voice ... but pardon me Daela. Now I would not thou said'st so. Instantly. Looking at thee now, the glow Chetsanthub. Of thy beauty so excelleth. Whatl love's sweetest word I ah, me I Every charm so plainly telleth Canst forget the mightiest ray Thou Diana's self must be ; Death can dart, or heaven display? Yes, Diana's self is she, Daeia. Who within her grove here dwelleth. Yes, for lightning, entering where Daeia. Naught resists, is lost in air. If, before you spoke to me. Chetsanthub. You desired my name to know. How? what way? I in your case act not so. Daeia. Since I speak, whoe'er you be, Well, in this way: Forced, but most unwillingly If two doors in one straight line (As to Ustening heaven is plain) Open lie, and lightning falls. To reply :— a bootless task Then the bolt between the walls Were it in me, indeed, to ask, Passes through, and leaves no sign. Since, whoe'er you be, my strain So 't is with this word of thine; Must be one of proud disdain. Though love be, which I do n't doubt. So I pray you, cavalier. Like heaven's bolt that darts about. Leave me in this lonely wood. Still two opposite doors I 've here. ■Z2 The Two Lovers of Heaven And what enters by one ear Daeia. By the other ear goes out. But as you have not yet died. Chrtsanthus. Pray do n't follow me, but retire. [Exit. If this Ughtning then darts through Chrtsanthus. Where no door Ues open wide In what bosom, at one moment, To let it pass at the other side, Oh 1 ye heavens 1 e'er met together* Must not fire and flame ensue? Such a host of anxious troubles ? This being so, 't is also true Such a crowd of boding terrors? That the fire of love that flies Can I be the same calm student Into my heart, in flames must rise, Who awhile ago here wended ? Since without its feast of fire To a miracle of beauty. The fatal flash cannot retire, To a fair face now surrendered. That has entered by the eyes. I scarce know what brought me hither. Daria. I my purpose scarce remember. If to what I said but now What bewitchment, what enchantment. Tou had listened, I beUeve What strange lethargy, what frenzy You would have preferred to leave Can have to my heart, those eyes Still unspoken love's vain vow. Such divine delirium sent me ? This you would yourself allow. What divinity, desirous Chrtsanthus. That I should not know the endless What then was it? Mysteries of the book I carry. Daria. In my path such snares presenteth. I don't know: Seeking from these serious studies Something 't was that typified To distract me and divert me ? My presumption and my pride. But what 's this I say? One passion Chrtsanthus. Accidentally developed. Let me know it even so. Should not be enough, no, no. Daria. From myself myself to sever. That in me no love could grow If the violence of one star Save for one who first would die Draws me to a deity's service. For my love. It compels not ; for the planets Chrtsanthus. Draw, but force not, the affections. And death being past, Free is yet my wiU, my mind too. Would he win your love at last? — Free is still my heart : then let me Daria. Try to solve more noble problems Yes, on that he might rely. Than the doubts that love presenteth. Chrtsajjthus. And since Claudius, the new Clytie' Then I plight my troth that I Of the sun, whose golden tresses Will to that reward aspire, — Lead him in pursuit, her footsteps A poor offering at the fire Follows through the wood, my servant By those beauteous eyes supplied. Having happily too departed. « The metre reverts here again to the asonante form, which is kept up for the remainder of this act. The vowels her< 3 used are e, e, or their equivalents. ' "This Clytie knew, and inew she was undone. Whose soul was fix'd. md doted on the sun". Ovid, Metamorphoses, b. iv. 23 The Two Lovers of Heaven. And since yonder rocks where endeth The dark wood in savage wildness Must be the rude rustic shelter Of the Christians who fled thither, I '11 approach them to endeavour To find there Carpophorus : — He alone, the wise, the learned, Can my understanding rescue From its night-mare dreams and guesses. \_Exit. Scene III. The extremity of the wood: wild rocks with the entrance to a cave. Carpophorus comes forth from the cave, but is for a while unseen by Chry- santhus, who enters. Chktsanthus. What a labyrinthine thicket Is this place that I have entered ! Nature here takes httle trouble. Letting it be seen how perfect Is the beauty that arises Even from nature's careless efforts : Deep within this darksome grotto Which no sunbeam's light can enter, I shall penetrate : it seemeth As if until now it never Had been trod by human footsteps. There where yonder marge impendeth O'er a streamlet that swift-flying Carries with it the white freshness Of the snows that from the mountains Ever in its waves are melted, Stands almost a skeleton ; The sole difference it presenteth To the tree-trunks near it is, That it moves as well as trembles. Slow and gaunt, a living corse. Oh I thou venerable elder Who, a reason-gifted tree. Mid mere natural trees here dweUeth. — Cakpophorus. Wo 1 oh 1 wo is me I —a Roman ! (4i seeing Chryaanthus, he attempts tofly^ Chrysanthus. Though a Koman, do not dread me : With no evil end I seek thee. Carpophorus. Then what wouldst thou have, thou gentle Koman youth? for thou hast silenced My first fears even by thy presence. Chrtsauthus. 'T is to ask, what now I ask thee, Of the rocks that in this desert Gape for ever open wide In eternal yawns incessant, Which is the rough marble tomb Of a living corse interred here ? Which of these dark caves is that In whose gloom CarpophoruB dwell- eth? 'T is important I speak with him. CARPOPHORnS. Then, regarding not the perils, I wiU own it. I myself Am Carpophorus. Chrtsanthus. Oh 1 let me, Father, feel thy arms enfold me. Caepophorus. To my heart : for as I press thee, How, I know not, the mere contact Brings me back again the freshness And the greenness of my youth. Like the vine's embracing tendrils Twining round an aged tree : Gallant youth, who art thou ? tell me. Chrtsanthus. Father, I am called Chrysanthus, Of Polemius, the first member Of the Roman senate, son. Carpophorus. And thy purpose ? Chrysanthus. It distresses Me to see thee standing thus : On this bank sit down and rest thee. Cakpophorus. Kindly thought of ; for, alas I I a tottering wall resemble : At the mouth of this my cave Let us then sit down together. [Thty sit down. 24 ] Tlie Two Lovers of Heaven. 1 What now wouldst thou have, Sir Caepophoeus. Stranger ? No, not so, but vital truths. Chkysanihtis. Chetsanthus. Sir, as long as I remember. How can that be, when its verses I have felt an inclination Open with this line that says To the love of books and letters. (A beginning surely senseless) In my casual studies lately " In the beginning was the Word, I a difficulty met with And it was with God": and then it That I could not solve, and knowing Adds : this Word itself was God ; No one in all Rome more learned Then unto the Word revertmg, Than thyself (thy reputation Says explicitly that It Having with this truth impressed me) "Was made flesh"? I have hither come to ask thee Caepophoeus. To explain to me this sentence : A truth most certain : For I cannot understand it. For this first evangehst 'T is, sir, in this book. Here to us our God presenteth Cakpophoeus. In a twofold way : the first Pray, let me As being God, as Man the second. See it then. Chetsanthus. Chetsanthus. God and Man oomhhaed together ? 'T is at the beginning ; Caepophoeus. Nay, the sentence that perplexes • Yes, in one eternal Person Me so much is that. Are both natures joined together. CAKPOPHOKUa. Chetsanthus. Why, these Then, for this is what more presses Are the Holy Gospels 1 Heavens I On my mind, can that same Word Chetsanthus. AVhen it was made fiesh, be reckoned What ! you Mss the book ? God? Caefophokus. Caepophoeus. And press it Yes, God and Man is Christ To my forehead, thus suggesting Crucified for our transgressions. The profound respect with which Chetsanthus. I even touch so great a treasure. Pray explain this wondrous problem. Chetsakthbs. Caepophoeus. Why, what is the book, which I He is God, because He never By mere accident selected ? Was created ; He is the Word, Caepophoeus, For, besides. He was engendered 'T is the basis, the foundation By the Father, from both whom Of the Scripture Law. In eternal due procession Chetsanthus. Comes the Holy Ghost, three Persons, I tremble But one God, thrice mystic emblem! — With an unknown horror. In the Catholic faith we hold Caepophoeus. In one Trinity one God dweUeth, Why? And that in one God is also Chetsanthus. One sole Trinity, ever blessed. Deeper now I would not enter Which confounds not the three Persons, Into the secrets of a book Nor the single substance severs. Which are magic speUs, I 'm certain. One is the person of the Father, 2b The Tico Lovers of Heaven. One the Son's, beloved for ever, One in substance, one in power, One, the third, the Holy Ghost's. One in will? But though three, you must remember Caepophokus. That in the Father, and in the Son, My son, 't is certain. And in the Holy Ghost . . . {Enter Aurelius and Soldiers.') Chktsanihus. AuKELius to the Soldiers. Unheard of Yonder is the secret cavern Mysteries these ! Of Carpophorus, at its entrance Caepophorus. See him seated with another There 's but one God, Eeading. Equal in the power exerted. A Soldier. Equal in the state and glory ; Why delay? Eor ... Arrest them. GHRTSANTHtJS. Atjeelitts. I listen, but I tremble. EecoUect Polemius bade us, Cakpophobcs. When we seized them, to envelope The eternal Father is Each one's face, that so, the Christians, Limitless, even so unmeasured Their accomplices and feUows, And eternal is the Son, Should not know or recognize them. And unmeasured and eternal A Soldier. Is the Holy Ghost ; but then You 're our prisoners. Three eternities are not meant here, [4 vdl is thrown over the head of each ] Three immensities, no, but One, Chrtsanthus.1 Who is limitless and eternal. What ! base wretches . . . For though increate the three, Aurelius. They are but one Uncreated. Gag their mouths. First the Father -was not made. Chrtsanthus. Or created, or engendered ; But then I am . . . Then engendered was the Son Aurelius. By the Father, not created ; Come, no words : now tie together And the Spirit was not made Both their hands behind their backs. Or created, or engendered Chrtsanxhus. By the Father or the Son, Why I am . . . But proceeds from both together. Carpophorus. This is God's divioity Oh! sacred heaven 1 Viewed as God alone, let 's enter Now my wlshed-for day has come. On the human aspect. A Voice prom Heaven. Chrtsanthus. No, not yet, my faithful servant :— Stay: I desire the constancy For so strange, so unexpected Of Chrysanthus may be tested : — Are the things you say, that I Heed not him, as for thyself, Need for their due thought some leisure. In this manner I preserve thee. Let me my lost breath regain. [Carpophorus disappears. '1 For entranced, aroused, suspended, {Enter Polemius.) Spell-bound your strong reasons hold Polemius. ms. What has happened? Is there then but one sole God Aurelius. In three Persons, one in essence, Oh! a wonder 26 The Two Lovers of Heaven. We Carpophorus arrested, And with him this other Christian ; Both we held here bound and fet- tered, When from out our hands he vanished. POLEMIUS. By some sorcery 't was effected, For those Christians use enchantments, And then miracles pretend them. A Soldier. See, a crowd of them there flying To the mountains. POLEMIUS. Intercept them. And secure the rabble rout; This one I shaU guard myself here : — [Exeunt Aurelius and soldien. Miserable wretch! who art thou? Thus that I may know thee better. Judging from thy face thy crimes, I unveil thee. Gracious heaven! My own son ! Chetsanthus. Oh I heavens ! my father ! POLEMITJS. Thou with Christians here detected? Thou here in their caverns hidden? Thou a prisoner? Wherefore, where- fore, O immense and mighty Jove, Are thy angry bolts suspended? CHRTSANTHirS. 'T was to solve a certain doubt Which some books of thine presented. That I sought Carpophorus, That I wandered to these deserts. And . . . PoLEmus. Cease, cease ; for now I see What has led to this adventure : Thou unhappily art gifted With a genius ill-directed; For I count as vain and foolish All the lore that lettered leisure Has in human books e'er written; But this passion has possessed thee. And to learn their magic rites Here, a wiUing slave, has led thee. Chkysanthcis. No, not magic was the knowledge I came here to learn — far better — The high mysteries of a faith Which I reverence, whUe I dread them. POLEMinS. Cease, oh ! cease once more, nor let Such vile treason find expression On thy lips. What! thou to praise them I AtJEBLius (within). Yonder wait the two together. POLEMIUS. Cover up thy face once more, That the soldiers, when they enter, May not know thee, may not know How my honour is affected By this act, until I try Means more powerful to preserve it. Chetsanthus (aside). God, whom until now I knew not. Grant Thy favour, deign to help me : Grant through suffering and through sorrow I may come to know Thee better. {Enter Aurelius and Soldiers.) AUEELIUS. Though we searched the whole of the mountain, Not one more have we arrested. POLEMItJS. Take this prisoner here to Rome, And be sure that you remember AU of you my strict commands, That no hand shall dare divest him Of his veU:— [Chrt/santhus is led out. Why, why, heavens! [aside. Do I pause, but from my breast here Tear my bleeding heart? How act In so dreadful a dilemma ? If I say who he is, I tarnish With his guilt my name for ever. And my loyalty if I 'm silent. Since he being here transgresses By that fact alone the edict ; Shall I punish him? The offender Is my son. Shall I free him ? He Is my enemy and a rebel: — 27 The Two Lovers of Heaven. If between these two extremes Some mean lies, I cannot guess it. As a father I must love him, And as a judge I must condemn him. \_Exeunt. ACT THE SECOND. Scene I. A hall in the house of Polemius. Enter Claudius and Escarpin. CtAtTDIDS. Has he not returned? Can no one Guess in the remotest manner' Wliere he is ? ESOAKPIN. Sir, since the day That you left me with my master In Diana's grove, and I Had with that divinest charmer To leave him, no eye has seen him. Lore alone knows how it mads me. Claudius. Of your loyalty I doubt not. ESCAKPIN. Loyalty 's a different matter, 'T is not wholly that. Claudius. What then? ESCAEPIN. Dark suspicions, dismal fancies,. That perhaps to live with her He lies hid within those gardens. Claudius. If I could imagine that, I, Escarpin, would be gladdened Eather than depressed. ESCAKPIN. I 'm not: — I am filled, like a fuU barrel. With depressions. Claudius. And for what? ESOAKPIN. Certain wild chimeras haunt me. Jealousy doth tear my heart. And despairing love distracts me. Claudius. You in love and jealous ? ESOABPIN. I Jealous and in love. Why marvel? Am I such a monster? Claudius. AVhat! WithDaria? ESOAEPIN. 'T is no matter What her name is, or Daria Or Maria, I would have her Both subjective and subjunctive. She verb passive, I verb active. Claudius. You to love so rare a beauty? EscAEPisr. Yes, her beauty, though uncommon. Would lack something, if it had not My devotion. Claudius. How? explain: Escarpin. Well, I prove it in this manner: — Mr. Dullard fell in love (I do n't teU where all this happened. Or the time, for of the Dullards Every age and time give samples) With a very lovely lady: At her coach-door as he chattered One fine evening, he such nonsense Talked, that one who heard his clat- ter. Asked the lady in amazement If this simpleton's advances Did not make her doubt her beauty?— But she quite gallantly answered. Never until now have I Felt so proud of my attractions, For no beauty can be perfect That all sorts of men do n't flatter. Claudius. What a feeble jest I Escarpin. This feeble?— « In the whole of this scene the asonante vowels are a-e, or their equivalents. '4>i The Two Lovers of Heaven. Claudius. Lots of stories I can grant her :— Yes, the very type of flatness : — [Exeunt Escarpin and servants. Cease buffooning, for my uncle Claudius. Here is coining. Now, my lord, we are alone. ESCARPIN. POLEMIUS. Of Ms sadness Listen then ; for though to baffle Plainly is his face the mirror. Thy desire were my intention, Enter PoUmius and servants. By my miseries overmastered, Claudius. I am forced to tell my secret ; Jupiter doth know the anguish. Not so much have I been granted My good lord, with which I venture License to avow my sufferings. To approach thee since this happened. But I am, as 't were commanded POLEMIUS Thus to break my painful silence. Claudius, as thine own, I 'm sure. Doing honestly, though sadly. Thou dost feel this great disaster. WiUingly the fact disclosing. Claudius. Which by force had been extracted. I my promise gave thee that Hear it, Claudius : my Chrysanthus, To Chrysanthus . . . My Chrysanthus is not absent : POLEMIUS. In this very house he 's living ! — Cease ; I ask thee Would the gods, ah ! me, had rather Not to proffer these excuses. Made a tomb and not a prison Since I do not care to have them. Of his present locked apartment ! Claudius. Which is in this house, within it Then it seems that all thy efforts Is he prisoned, chained, made captive. Have been useless to unravel This surprises thee, no wonder : The strange mystery of his fate? More surprised thou 'It be hereafter. POLEMIUS. When thou com'st to know the reason "With these questions do not rack me; Of a fact so strange and startling. Tor, though I would rather not On that fatal day, when I Give the answer, stiU the answer Sought the mount and thou the gar- Eises with such ready aptness den. To my lips from out my heart, Him I found where thou didst lose That I scarcely can withstand it. him. Claudius. Near the wood where he had rambled: Why conceal it then from me. He was taken by my soldiers Knowing that thy blood meanders At the entrance of a cavern. Through my veins, and that my life With Carpophorus; — oh! here Owns thee as its lord and master? — Patience, patience may heaven grant Oh I my lord, confide in me, me! — Let thy^tongue speak once the lan- It was lucky that they did not guage See his face, for thus it happened That thine eyes so oft have spoken. That the front of my dishonour POLEMIUS. Was not in his face made patent : Let the servants leave the apartment. Him they captured without knowing EsoAEPiN (aside). Who he was, it being commanded Ah! it beautiful Daria That the faces of the prisoners Would but favour my attachment, Should be covered, but ere captured Though I have no house to give her. This effectually was done Ji 9 2'he Two Lovers of Heaven. By themselves, they flying backward With averted faces ; he Thus was talien, but his partner, That strange prodigy of Kome — Man in mind, wild beast in manners. Doubly thus a prodigy — Saved himself by power of magic. Thus Chrysanthus was sole prisoner, Wbile the Christian crowd, disheart- ened. Pled for safety to the mountains From their grottoes and their caverns. These the soldiers quickly followed, And behind in that abandoned Savage place remained but two — Two, oh ! think, a son and father. — One a judge, too, in a cause Wicked, bad, beyond example. In a cause that outraged Cassar, And the gods themselves disparaged. There with a delinquent son Stood I, therefore this should hap- pen, That both clemency and rigour In my heart waged fearful battle — Clemency in fine had won, I would have removed the bandage From his eyes and let him fly. But that instant, ah ! unhappy 1 Came the soldiers back, and then It were but more misery added. If they knew of my connivance: All that then my care could manage To protect him was the secret Of his name to keep well guarded. Thus to Rome I brought him prisoner. Where pretending great exactness. That his friends should not discover Where this Christian malefactor Was imprisoned, to this house. To my own house, I commanded That he should be brought; there hid- den And unknown, a few days after I'vahis place substituted . . . Ah I what will not the untrammelled Strength of arbitrary power Dare attempt? what law not trample? Substituted, I repeat, For my son a slave, whose strangled. Headless corse thus paid the debt Which from me were else exacted. You will say, " Since fortune thus Has the debt so happily cancelled, ■Why imprison or conceal him?" — And, thus, full of doubts, I answer That though it is true I wished not. Woe is me ! the common scaffold Should his punishment make public, I as Uttle wished his hardened Heart should know my love and pity Since it did not fear my anger: Ah I believe me, Claudius, 'Twist the chastisement a father And an executioner gives, A great difference must be granted : One hand honours what it striketh, One disgraces, blights, and blackens. Soon my rigour ceased, for truly. In a father's heart it lasteth Seldom long : but then what wonder. If the hand that in its anger Smites his son, in his own breast Leaves a wound that ever rankles — I one day his prison entered With the wish (I own it frankly) To forgive him, and when I Thought he would have even thanked me For receiving a reproof, Not severe, too lenient rather. He began to praise the Christians With such earnestness and ardour, In defence of their new law. That my clemency departed. And my angrier mood returned. I his doors and windows fastened. In the room where he is lying. Well secured by gyves and shackles. Sparingly his food is given him. Through my hands alone it passes. For I dare not to another Trust the care his state demandeth. You will thuik in this I reached to Tlie extreme of my disasters — The full limits of misfortune. au The 2v)o Lovers of Heaven But not so, and if you hearken, Through my only son Chrysanthus. You '11 perceive they 're but begin- TeU me, then, what shall I do ; ning. But before you give the answer And not ended, as you fancied. Wliich your subtle wit may dictate, All these strange events so much I would with your own eyes have thee Have unnerved him and unmanned See him first, you '11 then know better him, What my urgent need demandeth. That, forgetful of himself. Come, he 's not far off, his quarter Of himself he is regardless. Is adjoining this apartment; Nothing to the purpose speaks he. When you see him, I am certain In his incoherent language You will think it a disaster Frenzy shows itself, delusion ' Far less evil he should die. In his thoughts and in his fancies:— Than that in this cruel manner Many times I 've listened to him. He should outrage his own blood. Since so high-strung and abstracted And my bright escutcheon blacken. Is his mind, he takes no note of \_Ue opens a door, and Chrysanthus is Who goes in or who departeth. seen seated in a chair, with his hands Once I heard him deprecating and feet in irons.^ Some despotic beauty's hardness, Claudius. Saying, "Since I die for thee, Thus to see my friend, o'erwhelms me Thou thy favour sure wilt grant me". With a grief I cannot master. At another time he said. POLEMIUS. "Three in one, oh! how can that be?" Stay, do not approach him nearer; Things which these same Christian For I would not he remarked thee, people I would save him the disgrace In their law hold quite established. Of being seen by thee thus shackled. Thus it is my life is troubled. Claudius. Lost in doubts, emeshed, and tangled. What his misery may dictate If to freedom I restore him. We can hear, nor yet attract him. I have little doubt that, darkened Chkysanthus. By the Christian treachery, he Was ever human fate so strange as Win declare himself instanter mine ? Openly a Christian, which Were unmatched wishes ever mated Would to me be such a scandal, so? That my blood henceforth were tainted. Is it not enough to feel, one form of And my noble name were branded. woe. If I leave him here in prison, Without being forced 'neath opposite So excessive is his sadness. forms to pine? So extreme his melancholy. A triune God's mysterious power di- That I fear 't will end in madness. vine. In a word, I hold, my nephew. From heaven I ask for Ufe, that I Hold it as a certain axiom, may know. That these dark magician Christians From heaven I ask for death, life's Keep him bound by their enchant- grisly foe. ments ; A fair one's favoiu' in my heart to Who through hatred of my house. shrine: And my ofSce to disparage. But how can death and life so well Now revenge themselves on me agree. 31 The Two Lovers of Heaven. That I can ask of heaven to end their strife, And grant them both in pitying love to me? Yet I will ask, though both with risks are rife, Neither shall hinder me, for heaven must be The arbiter of death as well as life. PoiiEMIUS. See now if I spoke the truth. Claudius. I am utterly distracted. ( Tke door closes. POLEMIUS. Lest perhaps he should perceive us, ' Let us move a little further. Now advise me how to act. Since you see the grief that racks me. Claudius. Though it savours of presumption To white hairs like yours, to hazard Words of councU, yet at times Even a young man may impart them : Well-proportioned punishment Grave defects oft counteracteth. But when carried to extremes. It but irritates and hardens. Any iastrument of music Of this truth is an example. Lightly touched, it breathes but sweet- ness, Discord, when 't is roughly handled. 'T is not well to send an arrow To such heights, that in discharging The strong tension breaks the bow- string. Or the bow itself is fractured. These two simple illustrations Are sufficiently adapted To my purpose, of advising Means of cure both mild and ample. You must take a middle course, All extremes must be abandoned. Gentle but judicious treatment Is the method for Clirysanthus. For severer methods end in Disappointment and disaster. Take him, then, from out his prison. Leave him free, unchecked, untram- melled. For the danger is an infant Without strength to hurt or harm him. Be it that those wretched Christians Have bewitched him, disenchant him , Since you have the power ; for Nature With such careful forethought acteth. That an antidotal herb She for every poison planteth. And if, finally, your wish Is that he this fatal sadness Should forget, and wholly change it To a happier state and gladder, Get him married : for remember Nothing is so well adapted To restrain discursive fancies As the care and the attachment Centered in a wife and children; Taking care that in this matter Mere convenience should not weigh More than his own taste and fancy : Let him choose his wife himself. Pleased in that, to rove or ramble Then will be beyond his power, Even were he so attracted. For a happy married lover Thinks of naught except his rapture. POLEMIUS. I with nothing such good counsel Can repay, except the frankness Of accepting it, which is The reward yourseU would ask for. And since I a mean must choose Between two extremes of action, From his cell, to-day, my son Shall go forth, but in a manner That win leave his seeming freedom Circumscribed and safely guarded. Let that hall which looketh over Great ApoUo's beauteous garden Be made gay by flowing curtains. Be festooned by flowery garlands ; Costly robes for him get ready ; Then invite the loveliest damsels Rome can boast of, to come hither To the feasts and to the dances. •6-^ The Two Lovers of Heaven. Bring musicians, and in fine Let it be proclaimed that any Woman of illustrious blood Who from his delusive passions Can divert him, by her charms Curing him of all his sadness. Shall become his wife, how humble Her estate, her wealth how scanty. And if this be not sufficient, I will give a golden talent Yearly to the leech who cures him By some happy stroke of practice. lExit. Claudius. Oh ! a father's pitying love, What will it not do, what marvel Not attempt for a son's welfare, For his life? Enter EscARPnr. ESCAEPIN. My lord por Baco ! (That 's the god I like to swear by, JoUy god of all good rascals) May I ask you what 's the secret? Claudius. You gain little when you ask me For a secret aU may know. After his mysterious absence Your young lord 's returned home iU. ESCAEPIN. In what way? Claudius. That none can fathom. Since he does not tell his ailment Save by signs and by his manner. EsoAitprN. Then he 's wrong, sir, not to tell it Clearly : with extreme exactness Should our griefs, our pains be men- tioned. A back tooth a man once maddened, And a barber came to draw it. As he sat with jaws expanded, "Which tooth is it, sir, that pains you?" Asked of him the honest barber. And the patient in affected Language grandly thus made answer. "The penultimate"; the dentist Not being used to such pedantic Talk as this, with ready forceps Soon the last of all extracted. The poor patient to be certain, With his tongue the spot examined. And exclaimed, his mouth all bleed- ing, "Why, that 's not the right tooth, mas- ter". "Is it not the ultimate molar?" Said the barber quite as grandly. "Yes" (he answered), "but I said The penultimate, and I 'd have you Know, your worship, that it means Simply that that 's next the farthest". Thus instructed, he returned To the attack once more, remarking "In effect then the bad tooth Is the one that 's next the last one?" "Yes", he said, "then here it is", Spoke the barber with great smartness, Plucking out the tooth that then Was the last but one; it happened From not speaking plain, he lost Two good teeth, and kept his bad one. Claudius. Come and something newer learn In the stratagem his father Has arranged to cure the illness Of Clirysanthus, whom he fancies . . . ESCAEPIN. What? Claudius. Is spell-bound by the Christians Through the power of their enchant- ments: — (Since to-day I cannot see thee, [aside. Cynthia fan:, forgive my absence). [Exil. ESCAUPIN. While these matters thus proceed, I shall try, let what wiU happen. Thee to see, divine Daria: — At my love, oh I be not angered, Since the penalty of beauty Is to be beloved: then pardon. \_Exit. '66 Tlie Two Lovers of Heaven. SOEN33 II.— The Wood. Nay more, illusion now doth bear to Enter Dakia from the chase with how me and arrows. The sweetest sounds of dulcet har- Daria. mony. stag that swiftly flying Music and voice combine: — Before my feathered shafts the winds solitude! what phantasms are outvieing, thine! Impelled by wings, not feet, But let me listen to the voice that If in this green retreat blent Here panting thou wouldst die, Sounds with the music of the instru- And stain with blood the fountain mur- ment. muring by. Music from within the cave. Await another wound, another friend, Song. That so with quicker speed thy life Oh ! be the day for ever blest, may end ; And blest be pitying heaven's decree. For to a wretch that stroke a friend That makes the darksome cave to be must be Daria's tomb, her place of rest! That eases death and sooner sets life Daria. free. Blest! can such evil auguries bless? \_She stumbles and Jails near the mouth And happy can that strange fate be of a cave.'] That gives this darksome cave to me But, bless me, heaven 1 I feel As monument of my sad Ufe? My brain grow hot, my curdling blood Music. congeal : Yes. A form of fire and snow Daria. I seem at once to turn: this sudden Oh ! who before in actual woe blow, The happier signs of bliss could read? This stumbling, how I know not, by this Will not a fate so rigorous lead stone, To misery, not to rapture ? — This horrid mouth in which my grave Music. is shown. No. This cave of many shapes. Daria. Through which the melancholy moun- fantasy! unwelcome guest! tain gapes. How can this cave bring good to me ? This mountain's self, a vast Music. Abysmal shadow cast Itself will tell, when it shall be Suddenly on my heart, as if 't were Daria's tomb, her place of rest. meant Daria. To be my rustic pyre, my strange new But then, who gave the stern decree. monument, That this dark cave my bones should All fill my heart with wonder and with hide? fear, Music. What buried mysteries are hidden here Daria, it was he who died. That terrify me so. Who gave his life for love of thee. And make me tremble 'neath impend- Darla. ing woe. "Who gave his life for love of msl" \_A solemn strain of music is heard from Ah 1 me, and can it be in sooth within.'] That gentle noble Roman youth 34 The Two Lovers of Heaven. I answered with such cruelty In this same wood the other day, Saying that I his love would be If he would only die for me I Can he have cast himself away Down this dark cave, and there lies dead. Buried within the dread abyss, Waiting my love, his promised bliss ? — My soul, not now mine own, has fled! Cynthia (within). Forward! forward! through the gloom Every cave and cavern enter. Search the dark wood to its centre, Lest it prove Daria's tomb. Dakia. Ah ! me, the sense confounding. Both here and there are opposite voices sounding. Here is my name in measured cadence And there in hoUow echoes oft repeated. Would that the latter cries that reach my ear Came from my mates in this wild forest sphere, In the dread solitude that doth sur- round me Their presence would be welcome. {Enter Cynthia with bow and ar- rows.^ Ctuthia. liU I found me. Beauteous Daria, by thy side once more. Each mountain nook my search had well gone o'er. Dakia (aside). Let me dissemble The terror and surprise that make me tremble. If I have power to feign Amid the wild confusion of my brain : Following the chase to-day, Wishing Diana's part in full to play. So fair the horizon smiled, I left the wood and entered on the wild. Led by a wounded deer still on and on. And further in pursuit I wotild have gone. Nor had my swift career Even ended here. But for this mouth that opening in the rock, With horrid gape my vain attempt doth mock, And stops my further way. Cynthia. Until I found thee I was all dismay. Lest thou some savage beast, some monstrous foe, Hadst met. Dakia (aside). Ah ! would to Jove 't were so ! And that my death in his wild hands had paid For future chastisement by fate de- layed ! But ah 1 the wish is vain. Foreboding horror fills my heart and brain. This mystic music borne upon the air Must surely augur iU. (Enter Nisida.) NiSIDA. Daria fair. And Cynthia wise, I come to seek ye two. Cynthia. Has any thing occurred or strange or new? Nisid A. I scarce can tell it. As I came along, I heard a man, in a clear voice and Proclaiming as he went Through all the mountain a most strange event : Home hath decreed Priceless rewards to her whose charms may lead Through lawful love and in an open way By public wedlock in the light of day. The son of proud Polemius from the state 35 The Two Lovers of Heaven. Of gloom in which his mind is sunk of late. Cynthia. And what can be the cause that he is so? Nisid A. Ah ! that I do not know, But yonder, leaving the Salarian "Way, A Roman soldier hitherward doth stray : He may enlighten us and tell us all. Cynthia. Yes, let us know the truth, the stranger call. Dakia (aside). Ah ! how distinct the pain That presses on my heart, and dulls my wHdered brain ! {Enter Escarpin.) NiSIDA. Thou, thou, whose wandering foot- steps These secluded groves have en- tered . . ." ESOAKPIN. Thou four hundred times repeated— Thou and all the thous, your servant. NiSIDA. Tell us of the proclamation Publicly to-day presented To the gaze of Rome. ESOAKPIN. I '11 do so ; For there 's nothing I love better Than a story (aside, if to tell it In divine Daria's presence Does not put me out, for no one. When the loved one listens, ever Speaks his best) : Polemius, Rome's great senator, whose bended Shoulders, like an Atlas, bear All the burden of the empire, By Numerian's self entrusted. He, this chief of Rome's great senate, I-Ias a son, by name Chrysanthus, Who, as rumour goes, at present Is afflicted by a sadness So extreme and so excessive, That 't is thought to be occasioned By the magic those detested Christians (who abhor his house, And his father, who hath pressed them Heavily as judge and ruler) Have against his life effected. All through hatred of our gods. And so great is the dejection That he feels, there 's nothing yet Pound to rouse him or divert him. Thus it is Numerianus, Who is ever weU-affeoted To his father, hath proclaimed All through Rome, that whosoever Is so happy by her beauty, Or so fortunately clever By her wit, or by her graces Is so powerful, as to temper His aifliction, since love conquers All tilings by his magic presence. He will give her (if a noble) As his wife, and will present her With a portion far surpassing All Polemius' self possesses, Not to speak of what is promised Him whose skfll may else effect it. Thus it is that Rome to-day Laurel wreaths and crowns presenteth To its most renowned physicians, To its sages and its elders. And to wit and grace and beauty Joyous feasts and courtly revels ; So that there is not a lady In all Rome, but tliinks it certain That the prize is hers already. Since by all 't vrill be contested. Some through vanity, and some Through a view more interested: Even the ugly ones, I warrant. Will be there well represented. So with this, adieu. (Aside, Ohl faurest Nymph Daria, since I ventured ° The asonanto in e-e, recommences here, and continues until the entry of Chrysanthus. 36 The Two Lovers of Heaven. Here to see thee, haying seen thee Now, alas! I must absent me !) \_Exit. Cynthia. What strange news I Nisid A. There 's not a beauty But for victory will endeavour When among Rome's fairest daughters Such a prize shall be contested. Cynthia. Thus by showing us the value Thou upon the victory settest, We may understand that thou Meanest in the lists to enter. NiSIDA. Yes, so far as heaven through music Its most magic cures effecteth, Since no witchcraft is so potent But sweet music may dispel it. It doth tame the raging wild beast. Lulls to sleep the poisonous serpent. And makes evil genii, who Are revolted spirits — rebels — Fly in fear, and in this art I have always been most perfect : Wrongly would I act to-day, In not striving for the splendid Prize which will be mine, when I See myself the loved and wedded Wife of the great senator's son. And the mistress of such treasures. Cynthia. Although music is an art Which so many arts exceUeth, StiU in truth 't is but a sound Which the wanton air disperses. It the sweet child of the air In the air itself must perish. I, who in my studious reading Have such learned lore collected. Who in poetry, that art Which both teacheth and diverteth, May precedence claim o'er many Geniuses so prized at present, Can a surer victory hope for In the great fight that impendeth, Since the music of the soul Is what keeps the mind suspended. In one item, Nisida, We two differ : thy incentive Thy chief motive, is but interest : Mine is vanity, a determined Win no other woman shall Triumph o'er me in this effort. Since I wish that Rome should see That the glory, the perfection Of a woman is her mind, All her other charms excelling. Dakia. Interest and vanity Are the two things, as you teU me, That, Cynthia I can oblige thee. That, Nisida, can compel thee To attempt this undertaking By so many risks attended. But I think you both are wrong, Since in this case, having heard that The affliction this man suffers Christian sorcery hath effected Through abhorrence of our gods, By that atheist sect detested. Neither of these feelings should Be your motive to attempt it. I then, who, for this time only Will believe these waves that tell me — These bright fountains — that the beauty Which so oft they have reflected Is unequalled, mean to lay it As an offering in the temple Of the gods, to show what little Strength in Christian sorcery dweUeth. Nisida. Then 't is openly admitted That we three the list wiU enter For the prize. Cynthia. And from this moment That the rivalry commences. Nisida. Voice of song, thy sweet enchantment On this great occasion lend me, That through thy soft influence Rank and riches I may merit. \Exit. Cynthia. Genius, offspring of the soul. 37 ■ . — - The Two Lovers of Heaven. Prove this time thou 'rt so descended, 1 That aU this could dispossess me That thy proud ambitious hopes Of my dark foreboding fancies, May the laurel crown be tendered. Of the terrors that oppress me!— [£■^1!. (Enter Aurelius.') Daria. AUEELIUS. Beauty, daughter of the gods. Sir, a very learned physician Now thy glorious birth remember : Comes to proffer his best service Make me victress in the fight, To Chrysanthus, led by rumour ; That the gods may live for ever. [ Exit. Of his illness. POLBMIUS. Scene III A hall in the house of Po- Bid him enter. lemius, opening at the end upon a gar- [_Aurelius retires, and returns imme- den. diately with Carpophorus, disguised (Enter PoUmius and Claudius.") as a physician.'] POLEMIUS. Caepophoeus (aside). Is then everything prepared? — Heaven, that I may do the work Claudius. That this day I have attempted, ] Everything has been got ready Grant me strength a little while ; i As you ordered. This apartment For I know my death impendeth! — Opening on the garden terrace Mighty lord, thy victor hand, l_aloud. Has been draped and covered over Let me kiss and kneeling press it. With the costliest silks and velvets. PoLEmus. Leaving certain spaces bare Venerable elder, rise ' For the painter's magic pencil. From the ground ; thy very presence ; Wliere, so cunning is his art. Gives me joy, a certain instinct [ That it nature's self resembles. Even at sight of thee doth tell me | Flowers more fair than in the garden. Thou alone canst save my son. j Pinks and roses are presented : Caepophoeus. But what wonder when the fountains Heaven but grant the cure be perfect ! StiU run after to reflect them? — POLEJUUS. All things else have been provided. Whence, sir, art thou? Music, dances, gala dresses ; Carpophorus. And for aU that, Home yet knows not Sir, from Athens. Wliat in truth is here projected; POLEMIUS. 'T is a fair Academy, 'T is a city that exceUeth In whose floral halls assemble All the world in knowledge. Beauty, wit, and grace, a sight Caepophoeus. That we see but very seldom. There All the ladies too of Rome All are teachers, all are learners. Have prepared for the contention The sole wish to be of use With due circumspection, since Has on this occasion led me As his wife will be selected From my home. Inform me then She who best doth please him; thus How Chrysanthus is affected. There are none but will present them POLEMIUS. In these gardens, some to see him. With an overwhehuuig sadness ; Others to show off themselves here. Or to speak it more correctly POLEMIUS. (Since when we consult a doctor Oh, my Claudius, would to Jove Even suspicions should be mentioned). a» The Two Lovers of Heaven. He, my son, has been bewitched ; — I would not through you relieve nie Thus it is these Christian perverts Of my care ; my former state Take revenge through him on me : Seemed, though, more to mitigate In particular an elder What I suffer: why not leave me Called Carpophorus, a wizard . . . Thereto die? May the day soon come for vengeance 1 POLEMIUS. Caepophorus. That yet I may, May heaven grant it . . . (aside, Tor Pitying your sad condition, that day Work your cure : — A great physician I the martyr's crown may merit). Comes to visit you to-day. Where at present is Chrysanthus? Chrysanthus (aside'). POLEMIUS. Who do I behold? ah, me! He is just about to enter: — Carpophorus. You can see him; all his aihnent I will speak to him with your leave. In the soul you 'U find is centered. Chrysanthus (aside). CAKPOPHOEirS. No, my eyes do not deceive. In the soul then I will cure him. 'T is Carpophorus that I see 1 If my skill heaven only blesses. I my pleasure must conceal. [Music ii heard from within. Carpophorus. Claudius. Sir, of what do you complain? That he 's leaving his apartment Chrysanthus. This harmonious strain suggesteth. Since you come to cure my pain. Since to counteract his gloom I will tell you how I feel. He by music is attended. A great sadness hath been thrown {Enter Chrysanthus richly dressed, pre- O'er my mind and o'er my feelings. ceded by musicians placing and sing- A dark blank whose dim revealings ing, andjollowed by attendants.) Make their sombre tints mine own. Chbtsanthus. Carpophorus. Cease; my para, perchance my folly, Can you any cause assign me Cannot be by song diverted; Whence this sadness is proceeding ? Music is a power exerted Chrysanthus. For the cure of melancholy. From my earhest years to reading Which in truth it but augmenteth. Did my studious tastes incline me. A Musician. Something thus acquired doth wake This your father bade us do. Doubts, and fears, and hopes, ah me ! Chrtsanthus. That the things I read may be. 'T is because he never knew Carpophorus. Pain like that which me tormenteth. Then from me this lesson take. For if he that pang incessant Every mystery how obscure. Telt, he would not wish to cure it. Is explained by faith alone ; He would love it and endure it. All is clear when that is known : POLEMIUS. 'T is through faith I '11 work your cure. Think, my son, that I am present. Since in that your healing lies. And that I am not ambitious Take it then from me. To assume your evil mood. Chrysanthus. But to find that it is good. From you Chrtsanthus. I infer all good : that true No, sir, you mistake my wishes. Faith I hope which you advise. 39 The Two Lovers of Heaven. CABPOPHORns {to Pohinius). Every day we 'E see each other. Give me leave, sir, to address When I 'h execute my mission: Some few words to liim alone. I, to cure sin's primal scath. Less reserve will then be shown. Will at fitting time baptize you, ( The. two retire to one side. Taking care to catechise you Have you recognized me ? In the principles of the faith ; Chktsanihus. Only now one admonition Yes, Must I give ; be armed, be ready Every sign shows you are he For the fight most fierce and steady Who in my most perilous strait Ever fought for man's perdition ; Fled and left me to my fate. Oh ! take heed, amid the advances CAEPOPHORtrS. Of the fair who wish to win you, God did that ; and would you see 'Mid the fires that burn within you. That it was His own work, say. 'Mid lascivious looks and glances. If I did not then absent me 'Mid such various foes enlisted, Through His means, could I present That you are not conquered by them. me Chrysanthus. As your teacher here to-day? Women ! oh ! who dare defy them Chrtsanihus. By such dread alUes assisted ? No. Carpophorus. Carpophorus. He whom God assists. How just His providence ! Chrysanthus. Since I was preserved, that I Be swayed Here might seek you, and more nigh By my tears, and ask him. Give you full intelhgence Cajrpophorus. Leisurely of every doubt You Which disturbs you when you read. Must too ask him : for he who Chrtsanthus. Aids himself, him God doth aid. Mysteries they are indeed, POLEMIUS. Difficult to be made out. What, sir, think you of his case ? Carpophorus. Cahpophorus. To the believer all is plain. I have ordered him a bath. CHRTSANTHnS. Strong restoiing powers it hath. I would believe, what must I do ? — Which his iUness must displace:— Carpophorus. Polemics. Your intellectual pride subdue. Sir, relying on you then, Chrtsanthus. I will give you ample wealth, I will subdue it, since 't is vain. If you can restore liis health. Cakpophokus. Carpophorus. Then the first thing to be done Stm I cannot t?ll you when. Is to be baptized. But I shall return and see lum Chktsanthub. Frequently; in fact 'tUl he I bow, Is from aU his ailment free. Pather, and implore it now. From my hand I will not free him. Carpophorus. PoLEMIUS. Let us for the present shun For your kindness I am grateful. Further notice ; lest suspicion Crysanthus. Should betray what we would smother ; He alone has power to cure me. 40 The Two Lovers of Heaven. Since he knows what will allure me, Wlien all other modes are hateful. \_Exit Carpophorus, {Enter Escarpin.') ESCAEPIN. All this garden of delight Must be beauty's birth-place sure, Here the fresh rose doubly pure. Here the jasmin doubly white. Learn to-day a newer grace. Lovelier red, more dazzling snow. POLEMIUS. Why? Escarpin. Because the world doth show Naught so fair as this sweet place. Falsely boasts th' Elysian bower Peerless beauty, here to-day More, far more, these groves dis- play:— Not a fountain, tree, or flower . . . POLEMUJS. WeU? ESCAKPIN. But by a- nymph more fan- Is surpassed. PoLEMins. Come, Claudius, come. He win be but dull and dumb, Shy the proffered bliss to share. Through the fear and the respect Which, as son, he owes to me. Claudius. He who gave the advice should see Also after the effect. Let us all from this withdraw. POLEMIUS. Great results I hope to gather : EscAKPiN (aiide). WeU, you 're the first pander-father Ever in my life I saw. Chetsanthus. What, Escarpin, you, as well. Going to leave me? Mum for once. EscAEPisr. Silence suits me for the nonce. Chetsanthus. Why? ESOAEPIN. A tale in point I 'U tell ; Once a snutfler, by a pirate Moor was captured, who in some Way affected to be dumb, , That his ransom at no high rate Might be purchased : when his owner Tliis defect perceived, the shuffle Made him sell this Mr. Snuffle Very cheaply : to the donor Of Ills freedom, through Ms nose, Half in snuffle, halt in squeak, Then he said, "Oh!' Moor, I speak, I 'm not dumb as you suppose" " Fool, to let your folly lead you So astray", rephed the Moor. " Had I heard you speak, be sure I for nothing would have freed you". Thus it is I moderate me In the use of tongue and cheek, Lest when you have heard me speak. Still more cheaply you may rate me. Chetsanthus. You must know the estimation I have held you in so long. Escarpin. WeU, my memory is not strong. It requires consideration To admit that pleasant ^fact. Chetsanthus. What of me do people say ? — Escaepin. ShaU I speak it? Chkysanthus. Speak. Escaepin. WTiy, they Say, my lord, that you are cracked. Chetsanthus. For what reason? Why this blame ? EsCAKPIN. Reason, sir, need not be had. For the wisest man is^mad If he only gets the name. Chetsanthus. WeU, it was not vrrongly given. If they only knew that I Have consented even to die 41 77t* The asonante is single here, consisting only of the long accented 'Rome", "globe", "dome", etc. bb The Two Lovers of Heaven. ESCARPIN. Let the lion care himself, I 'm engaged and cannot go. A Voice (within). From the mountain wilds descending, Through the crowded streets he goes. Anothee Voice {within). Like the hghtning's flash he flieth. Like the thunder is his roar. ESCARPIN. Ah ! all right, for I 'm in safety, Thanks to this obliging door : Lightning is a thing intended For liigh towers and stately domes. Never heard I of its falling Upon little lowly homes : So if lion be the lightning, Somewhere else will fall the bolt : Therefore once again, Daria, Come, I say, embrace me {A lion enters, places himself before Da- ria, and seizes Escarpin.') Dama. Oh! Never in my life did I See a nobler beast. Escarpin. Just so. Nor a more affectionate one Did I ever meet before. Since he gives me the embraces That I asked of thee and more : O god Bacchus, whom I worship So devoutly, thou, I know, Workest powerfully on beasts. Tell our friend to let me go. Daria. Noble brute, defend my honour. Be God's minister below. Escarpin. How he gnaws me 1 how he claws me I How he smells ! His breath, by Jove, Is as bad as an emetic. But you need n't eat me, though. That would be a sorry blunder. Like what happened long ago. Would you like to hear the story ? By your growling you say no. What ! you '11 eat me then ? You '11 find me A tough morsel, skin and bone. Daria I I implore thee. Save me from this monster's throat. And I give to thee my promise To respect thee evermore. Daria. Mighty monarch of these deserts. King of beasts, so plainly known By thy crown of golden tresses O'er thy tawny forehead thrown. In the name of Him who sent thee To defend that faith I hold, 1 command thee to release him. Free this man and let him go. EscAKPru. What a most obsequious monster ! With his mane he sweeps the floor. And before her humbly falling. Kisses her fair feet. Dakia. What more Need we ask, that Thou didst send liim, great Grod so late adored. Than to see his pride thus humbled When he heard thy name implored ? But upon his feet uprising. The great roaring Campead&ri^ Of the mountains makes a signal 1 should follow : yes, I go, Fearless now since Thou hast freed me From this infamous abode. What will not that lover do Wlio for love liis life foregoes ! — {Goes out preceded by the lion. ESCARPIK. With a lion for her bully Eeady to flght all licr foes. Wlio will dare to interrupt her? None, if they are wise I trow. With her hand upon his mane. 16 Champion, or combater, the name generally given the Cid. 5(j The. Two Lovers of Heaven. Quite familiarly they go Through the centre of the city. Crowds give way as they approach, And as he who looketh on Knoweth of the game much more Than the players, I perceive They the open country seek On the further side of Rome. Like a husband and a wife, In the pleasant sunsliine's glow, Taking the sweet air they seem. Well the whole afipu- doth show So much curious contradiction. That, my thought, a brief discourse You and I must have together. Is the God whose name is known To Daria, the same God Whom Carpophorus adored ? Why, from this what inference fol- lows? Only this, if it be so, That Daria He defends, But the poor Carpophorus, no. And as I am much more hkely His sad fate to undergo, Than to be like her protected, I to change my faith am loth. So part pagan and part christian I '11 remain— a bit of both. (Exit. Scene 111.— The Wood. {En'er Nibiba and Cynthia, ^j/mj'.) Cynthia. Fly, fly, Nisida. NiSIDA. Fly, fly, Cynthia, Since a terror and a woe Threatens us by far more fearful Than when late a horror froze All our words, and o'er our reason Strange lethargic dulness flowed. Cynthia. Thou art right, for then 't was only Our intelhgence that owned The effect of an enchantment, A mere pause of thought alone. Here our very Ufe doth leave us, Seeing with what awful force Stalks along this mighty lion Trampling all that stops his course. Nisid A. Whither shall we fly for shelter ? Cynthia. Diana, we implore Help from thee ! But stranger still ! — Him who doth appal us so. The wild monarch of the mountain See ! a woman calm and slow Follows. Nisid A. astounding sight ! Cynthia. 'T is Daria. NiSIDA. I was told She had been consigned to prison : Yes, 't is she : on, on they go Through the forest. Cynthia. Till the mountain Hides them, and we see no more. (Enter Escai-pin.') ESCAKPIN. All Borne is full of wonder and dis- may." NiSIDA. What has occurred ? Cynthia. Oh ! what has happened, say ? ESOAEPIN. Chrysanthus, being immured By his stem sire, a thousand ills en- dured. Daria too, the same. But in a house my tongue deoliaes to name. It pleased the God they both adore Both to their freedom strangely to re- store. And from their many pains To free them, and to break their gal- ling chains, '8 The metre changes to an irregular couplet in long and short lines. 57 The Two Lovers of Heaven. Giving Daria, as attendant squire, A roaring lion, rolling eyes of iSre : — In fine the two have fled. But each apart by ^separate instinct led To this wild mountain near. Numerianus coming then to hear Of the event, assuming in his wrath. That 't was Polemius who had oped the path Of freedom for his son and for the maid, Has not an hour delayed, But follows them with such a nume- rous band, That, see, his squadrons cover all the land. Voices (within). Scour the whole plain. Others (within). Descend into the vale. Others (within). Pierce the thick wood. Others (within). The rugged mountain scale. ESCAHPIN. This noise, these cries, confirm what I have said : And since by curiosity I 'm led To sift the matter to the bottom, I Will follow with the rest. Cynthia. I almost die With fear at the alarm, and yet so great Is my desire to know Daria's fate. And that of young Chrysanthus, that I too Will follow, if a woman so may do. ESCABPIN. What strange results such strange events produce I The very wonder serves as an excuse. Nisid A. Well, we must only hope that it is so. Come, Cynthia, let us follow her. Cynthia. Let us go. ESCARPIN. And I with love most fervent. Ladies, will be your very humble ser- vant. [Exeunt. Scene IV. — A wilder pari of the wood near the cave. (Enter Daria guided by the lion.) Daria. O mighty lion, whither am I led ? Where wouldst thou guide me with thy stately tread. That seems to walk not on the earth, but air ? But lo ! he has entered there Where yonder cave its yawning mouth lays bare, [The lion enters a cave.^ Leaving me here alone. But now fate clears, and all will soon be known ; For if I read aright The signs this desert gives unto my sight. It is the very place whence echo gave Responsive music from this mystic cave. Terror and wonder both ray senses scare. Ah ! whither shall I go ? Chrysanthus (within). Daria fair ! Daeia. Who calls my hapless name ? Each leaf that moves doth thrill this wretched frame With boding and with dread. But why say wretched ? I had better said Thrice blessed : O great God whom I adore. Baptize me in those tears that I out- pour, In no more fitting form can I declare My faith and hope in thee. Chrysanthus (within). Daria fair. 5S The Two Lovers of Heaven. Daeia. POLEMIUS (iviikin). Who calls my name? who wakes those This centre wild alarms ? Of the mountain, whence the sun (^Enter Chrt/sanihus.) Scarcely ever is reflected — Chrtsanthus. This dark cavern sure must hold them. Beloved bride, 't is one to whom thy Let us penetrate its entrails. charms So that here the twain may die. Are even less dear than is thy soul, Daria. ah! me, One thing only is regretted One who would live and who wUl die By me, in my life thus losing. with thee. I am not baptized. Daria. Chrysanthus. Beloved spouse, my heart could not Reject then demand That mistrust ; in blood and fire" Than thus to see thee near, to clasp Martyrdom the rite effecteth : — thy hand. (Enter Polcmius and Soldiers.) A sweeter solace for my long dismay, POLEMIUS. And all the awful wonders of this day. Here, my soldiers, here they are, Hear the surprising tale, And the hand that death presents And thou wilt know . . . them Voices (within). Must be mine, that none may think Search hill. I a greater love could cherish Othebs. Por my son than for my gods. And plain. And as I desire, when wendeth Others. Hither great Numerianus, And vale. That he find them, dead, arrest them Chrtsanthus. On the spot, and fling them headlong Hush ! the troops our flight pursuing Into yonder cave whose centre Have the forest precincts entered." Is a fathomless abyss : — Dabia. And since one sole love cemented What then shall I do, Chrysanthus ? Their two hearts in life, in death Chrtsanthus. In one sepulchre preserve them. Keep thy faith, thy life surrender :— Chrtsanthus. Dahia. Oh 1 how joyfully I die ! I a thousand lives would offer : Daria. Since to God I 'm so indebted And I also, since the sentence That I 'U think myself too happy Gives to me the full assurance If 't is given for Him. Of a happiness most certain " The metre changes to the double asonante in e-e, which continues to the end of the drama. 8 Baptism by blood and fire throvgh martyrdom. Calderon refers here evi- dently to the words of St. John the Baptist: "He shall baptize you m the Holy Ghost and fire"— -/S*. Matth., c. ill. v. ii. The following passage in the Legend of St. Catherine must also have been present to his mind : "Etcum dolerent, quod sine baptismo decederent, virgo respondit: Ne timeatis, quia effusio vestri sanguinis vobis baptislnus reputabitur et corona". Legenda Aurea, c. 167. 59 Lovers of Heaven. On tlie clay this darksome cave Doth entomb me in its centre. {T/iei/ are cast into 'he abt/ss.) POLEMIUS. Cover the pit's mouth with stones. (A sudden storm of thunder and Jight- riiny : Enter Numerianus, Claudius, Aurelius, and others. NnMEKIANDS. Wliat can liave produced this tempest ? PoLEMins. When within the cave they threw them, Dark eclipse o'erspread the heavens. Claudius. Shadowy shapes, phantasmal shadows Are upon the wind projected. Cynthia. Lightnings like swift birds of fire Dart along with burning tresses. Claudius. Lo ! an earthquake's awful shudder Makes the very mountains tremble. POLEMIUS. Yes, the solid ground upheaveth, And the mighty rock descendeth O'er our heads. Nisid A. While on the instant Dulcet voices soft and tender Issue from the cave's abysses. NUMEKIANCS. Kome to-day strange sights presenteth, Wlien a grave exhibits gladness. And the sun displays resentment. (4 choir of angels is heard singing from ^vithin the care.') " Happy day, and happy doom, May the gladsome world exclaim. When the darksome cave became Saint Daria's sacred tomb". {A great rock falls from the mountain, and covers the tomb, over it is seen an angel.") Angel. This great cave which holds to-day In its breast so great a treasure, Never shall by foot be trodden ; — Thus it is I 've sealed and settled This great mass of rock upon it, Which doth shut it up for ever. And in order that their ashes On the wind be ne'er dispersed, But while time itself endureth Shall be honoured and respected, This brief epitaph, this simple Line shall tell this simple legend To the ages that come after : " Here the bodies are preserved Of Chrysanthus and Daria, Tlie two lover-saints of Heaven". Claudius. Wherefore humbly we entreat Pardon for our many errors. tiU THE SPANISH DEAMA. CALDEEON'S DRAMAS AND AUTOS, Translated into English. Verse BY DENIS FLORENCE MAC-CARTHY. Prom Ticknor's History of Spanish Literature. London : 1863. "Denis Florence M'Carthypublished in London (in 1861) translations of two plays, and an auto of Calderon, under the title of 'Love, the greatest Enchantment; the Sorceries of Sin; the Devotion of the Cross, from the Spanish of Calderon, attempted strictly in English Asonante, and other imi- tatire Verse', printing, at the same time, a carefully corrected text of the origi- nals, page by page, opposite to his translations. It is, I think, one of the boldest attempts ever made in English verse. It is, too, as it seems to me, re- markably successful. Not tliat aso- nantes can be made fluent or graceful in English, or easily perceptible to an English ear, but that the Spanish air and character of Calderon are so hap- pily preserved. Mr. M'Carthy, in 1853, had published two volumes of translations from Calderon, to which I have already referred; and, besides this, he has rendered excellent service to the cause of Spanish literature in other ways. But in the present volume he has far surpassed all he had pre- viously done; for Calderon is a poet who, whenever he is translated, should have his very excesses, both in thought and manner, fuUy produced, in order to give a faithful idea of what is grandest and most distinctive in his genius. Mr. M'Carthy has done this, I conceive, to a degree which I had previously considered impossible. No- thing, I think, in the English language wUl give us so true an impression of what is most characteristic of the Spa- nish drama ; perhaps I ought to say, of what is most characteristic of Spanish poetry generally".— tom. iii. pp. 461, 462. ^xixads front Conliwnlsl 'geh'uias. From " m&ativ ffir Stterari«d)e Unfcr= taltung". 1862. ©rgter SSaubc, 479 " ©rroSijnengttJertf) Ht folgenber &ni)nt ocrgud) eines 9iladi)bilbun9 Salbeton' gct)er gtfictc in @ngli6ci)en 2tgSonan}en. "Love, the greatest enchantment; The Sorceries of Sin ; The Devotion of the Cross, from the Spanish of Calde- ron, attempted strictly in English Aso- nante, and other imitative verse. By Denis Florence Mac-Carthy". SieSe Uebergetjung ist bem SSerfafScr ber "History of Spanish Literature", George Ticlmor, jugeetgnet/ berin einem ©djreiber an ben Uebergetjer bie %vbnt "marvellous" nennt unb bam fortffi^rt : "3iict)t bag gie bie 2CS§onanjen bem engK§d)en S>^t go ^btbar gemadjt tjfitten/ »ie bieg mtt ben ®panigd)en ber gall igti ungcre «)iber:^aartgen congonanfen mad)en btcg unmbgKc^ i bag SDSunberbare iet nnv, bag gie biegelben {i.bni)anpt ij'oxbM gemad^t ^aben. SKeiner 50leins ung nact) netjme id; 3l)re JCggonanjen go beutlid^ toaiiv, retl bie Son 2lugutt ©cjileget ober (Stieg unb metjr alg bte= jenigen griebtic^ ©djlegel'g. 2Cber bteger ttiar ber ergte/ ber ben oersuc^ baju madjte, unb aufgerbem bin ici) &tin Seutgctjer. SBurbe eg nid)t lugtig getn, menn man einraal ein goldjcg ©rperiment in franj6g(^id)er ®pract)e rooWe 'i" "£)l)ne jreeifel wfltbe ?[KacSarti)j) £)t)ne ben Borgaug beutgdjer Sftacijbilbner beg Salberon ebengo menig barauf ge= femmen gein engligdje 2Cggonanjen ju t)frgU(^en; alg man ol^ne bag crmun= tetnbe Seigpiel beutgd)er ©id)ter unb Uebergetjer barauf gcfommen gein mutbe, in Uebergetjungen unb originolbic^tun= gen unter ml&jtn letstern tool begonberg ftongfellonj'g "Evangeline", ju nennen igt, engligd)c ^ejcameter ju »crgucl)en> wag in letjter jeit gar nidjt gelten geg= d)et)en igt '. From "Boll tin de Ferro- Carriles". Cadiz: 1862. "La novedad que nos coraunica de Calderon's Dramas and Autos. la existencia de traducciones tan aca- badas de nueatro grande e inimitable Cal- deron, ostendando, hasta cierto punto, las galas y formas del original, estamos seguros sera acogida con favor, si no con entuaiasmo, per los verdaderos a- mantes de las letras espaiiolas. A ellos nos dirijlmoa, recomendandoles el ul- timo trabajo del Seiior Mac-Carthy, seguros de que participaran del inismo placer que nosotros hemos experimen- tado al examinar su fiel, al par que brUlante traduccion ; y en cuanto i la dificil tentativa de los asonantes in- gleses, nos sorpende que el Senor Mao- Carthy haya podido sacar tanto par- ido, si se considera la indole peculiar de los dos idiomas". dittratts itaxa. ftttes abb«s«i> to From Henry Wadsworlh Longfellow, Esq. Cambridge, near Boston, America, April 29, 1862. "I thank you very much for your new work in the vast and flowery fields of Calderon. It is, I think, admirable ; and presents the old Spanish dramatist before the English reader in a very at- tractive light. "Particularly In the most poetical passages you are excellent ; as, for in- stance, in the fine description of the gerfalcon and the heron in 'El Mayor Encanto' 11 Jor. "Your previous volumes I have long possessed and highly prized; and I hope you mean to add more and more, so as to make the translation as nearly complete as a single life will permit. It seems rather appalling to undertake the whole of so voluminous a writer. Nevertheless, I hope you will do it. Having proved that you can, perhaps you ought to do it. This may be your appointed work. It is a noble one. " With much regard, I am, etc., " Henrt W. Longfellow. " Denis Florence Mac-Cartby, Esq.". From the Same. Nahant, near Boston, August 10, 1867. " Mr Dbab Sir, " Before leaving Cambridge to come down here to the sea-side, I had the pleasure of receiving your precious vo- lume of 'Mysteries of Corpus Christi ; and should have thanked you sooner for your kindness in sending it to me, had I not been very busy at the time in getting out my last volume of Dante. " I at once read your work, with ea- gerness and delight— that peculiar and strange delight which Calderon gives his admirers, as peculiar and distinct as the fiavour of an oMve from that of all other fruits. " You are doing this work admirably, and seem to gain new strength and sweetness as you go on. It seems as if Calderon himself were behind you whispering and suggesting. And what better work could you do in your bright hours or in your dark hours than just this, which seems to have been put providentially into your hands 1 " The extracts from the ' Sacred Par- nassus' in the Chronicle, which reached me yesterday, are also excellent. " For this and all, many and many thanks. "Yoiirs faithfully, "Henby W. Longfellow. " Denis Florence Mac-Carthy, Esq.". From George TicJcnor, Esq., the Histo- rian of Spanish Literature. " Boston, 16th December, 1861. "In this point of view, your volume seems to me Uttle less than marvellous. If I had not read it — indeed, if I had not carefuUy gone through with the Devocion de la Cruz, I should not have believed it possible to do what you have done. Titian, they say, and some others of the old masters, laid on colours for their groundwork whoEy different from those they used after- wards, but which they counted upon to shine through, and contribute mate- rially to the grand results they pro- duced. So in your translations, the Spanish seems to come thi-ough to the surface ; the original air is always per- ceptible in your variations. It is like a family likeness coming out in the next generation, yet with the freshness of originality. " But the rhyme is as remarkable as the verse and the translation ; not that you have made the asonante as percep- tible to the EngUsh ear as it is to the Spanish ; our cumbersome consonants make that impossible. But the wonder Calderon's Dramas and Autos. is, that you have made it perceptible at all. I think I perceive your asonantes much as I do those of August Schlegel or Gries, and more than I do those of Triederich Schlegel. But he was the first who tried them, and, besides, I am not a German. Would it not be amu- sing to have the experiment tried in French?" From the Same. " Bostjn, March 20, 1867. " The world has claims on you which you ought not to evade ; and, if the path in which you walk of preference, leads to no wide popularity or brilliant profits, it is, at least, one you have much to yourself, and cannot fail to enjoy. You have chosen it from faithful love, and will always love it ; I suspect partly because it is your own choice, because it is peculiarly your own". From the Same. "Boston, July 3, 1867. " Considered from this point of view, I think that in your present volume ["Mysteries of Corpus Christi", or "Autos Sacramentales" of Calderon] you are always as successful as you were in your previous pubhcations of the same sort, and sometimes more so ; easier, I mean, freer, and more happily expressive. If I were to pick out my first preference, I should take your fragment of the ' Veneno y Triaca', at ilie end ; but I think the whole volume is more fluent, pleasing, and attractive than even its predecessors". From the first of English religious painters. April 24, 1867. " I cannot resist the impulse I have of offering you my most grateful thanks for the greatest intellectual treat I have ever experienced in my life, and which you have afforded me in the magnificent translations of the divine Calderon ; for, surely, of aE the poets the world ever saw, he alone is worthy of standing beside the author of the Book of Job and of the Psalms, and entrusted, Hke them, with the noble mission of commending to the hearts of others all that belongs to the beau- tiful and true, ever directing the thoughtful reader through the love of the beautiful veil, to the great Author of all perfection. " I cannot conceive a nation can re- ceive a greater boon than being helped to a love of such works as the reUgious dramas of this Prince of Poets. I have for years felt this, and as your transla- tions appeared, have read them with the greatest possible interest. I knew not of the publication of the last, and it was to an accidental, yet, with me, habitual outburst of praise of Calde- ron, as the antidote and cure for the trifling literature of the day, that my friend (^ihe) D — made me aware of its being out". [The work especially referred to in the latter part of this interesting letter is the following : " Mysteries of Corpus Christi (^Autos Sacramentales), from the Spanish of Calderon, by Denis Florence Mac-Carthy". Duffy, Dublin and London, 1867.] •EjEtrads from ^.tntrican anb Cana- btati |oui»aI$. From an eloquent article in the '* Boston Courier", March 18, 1862, uinHcn by George Stillman Hillard, Esq., the author of " Six Months in Italy" — a delightjul book, worthy of the beauti- ful country it so beautifully describes. " Calderon is one of the three greatest names in Spanish hterature. Lope de Vega and Cervantes being the other two. He is also a great name in the universal realm of letters, though out of Spain he is Mttle more than a great name, except in Germany, that land so hospitable to famous wits, and where, to readers and critics of a mystical and transcendental turn, his peculiar genius strongly commended him. To form a notion of what manner of man Calde- ron was, we must imagine a writer hardly inferior to Shakespeare in fer- tility of invention and dramatic insight, inspired by a religious fervour Mke that of Doune or Crashaw, and endowed with the wild and ethereal imagination of Shelley. But the religious fervour is Cathofic, not Protestant, Southern, not Northern: it is intense, mystical, and ecstatic : like a tongue of upward- darting flame, it burns and trembles with impassioned impulse to mingle with empyrean fire. The imagination, too, is not merely southern, but with an oriental element shining through it, like the ruddy heart of an opal". . . Calderon's Dramas and Autos. " But our purpose is not to speak of Calderon, but of his translator Mr. MacCarthy ; and to make our readers acquainted with his very successful effort to reproduce in English some of the most characteristic productions of the genius of Spain, retaining even one of the pecuharities in the structure of the Terse which has hardly ever been transplanted from the soil of the pe- ninsula". . . . " Mr. MacCarthy's translations strike us as among the most successful experi- ments which have been made to repre- sent in our language the characteristic beauties of the finest productions of other nations. They are sufficiently faithful, as may be readily seen by the Spanish scholar, as the translator has the courage to print the original and his version side by side. The rich, imaginative passages of Calderon are reproduced in language of such grace and flexibility as shows in Mr. Mac- Carthy no inconsiderable amount of poetical power. The measures of Cal- deron are retained; the rhymed pas- sages are translated into rhyme, and what is more noticeable still, Mr. Mac- Carthy has done what no writer in Eng- lish has ever before essayed, except to a very limited extent— he has copied the asonantes of the original". . . . " We take leave of Mr. MacCarthy with hearty acknowledgments for the pleasure we have had in reading his excellent translations, wliich have given us a sense of Calderon's various and briUiant genius such as we never before had, and no analysis of his dramas, however fuU and careful, could be- stow". From a Review of " Love the Greatest Enchantment", etc.,in the " New York Tablet", July 19, 1862, written by the gifted and ill-fated Hon. Thomas tCArcy M'Gee, of Montreal. " This beautiful volume before us — like virtue's self, fair within and with- out^is Mr. Mac-Carthy's second con- tribution to the Herculean task which Longfellow cheers him on to continue — the translation into English of the complete works of Calderon. Two experimental volumes, containing six dramas of the same author, appeared in 1863, winning the well-merited en- comium of every person of true taste into whose hands they happened to fall. The Translator was encouraged, if not by the general chorus of popular applause, by the precious and emphatic approbation of those best entitled by knowledge and accomplishments to pronounce judgment. So here, after an interval of seven years, we have right worthily presented to us three of those famous Autos, which for two centm-ies drew together all the multi- tude of the Madrilenos, on the annual return of the great feast of Corpus Christi. On that same self-same festi- val, in a northern land, under a gray and clouded sky, in the heart of a city most unlike gay, garden-hued, out-of- door Madrid, we have spent the long hours over these resurrected dramas, and the spell of both the poets is stiU upon us, as we unite together, in dutiful juxtaposition, the names of Calderon and Mac-Carthy. " How richly gifted was this Spanish priest-poet ! this pious playwright ! this moral mechanist ! this devout drama- tist ! How rare his experience ! how broad the contrasts of his career, and of his observation Happy poet ! blessed Avith such feeimdity ! Happy Christian! blessed with such fidelity to the divine teachings of the Cross. . . . "Very highly do we reverence Cal- deron, and very highly value his trans- lator ; yet, if it be not presumptuous to say so, we ventm-e to suggest that Mac-Carthy might find nearer home another work still worthier of his ge- nius than these translations. Now that he has got the imperial ear by bringing his costly wares from afar, are there not laurels to be gathered as well in Ireland as in Spain? The author of ' The BeU-Founder', of ' St. Brendan's Voyage', of ' The Foray of Con O'Don- neU', and 'The Pillar Towers', needs no prompting to discern what abundant materials for a new department of En- glish poetry are to be found ahnost xmused on Irish ground. May we not hope that in that field or forest he may find his appointed work, adding to the glory of first worthily introducing Calderon to the English readers of this century, the still higher glory of doing for the neglected history of his fatherland what he has chivalrously done for the illustrious Spaniard". A LIST OF ffl^allreron's ©ramas anti dittos .SacramentaUs, Translated into English Verse BY DENIS FLORENCE MAC-CAETHY, M.R.I.A. THE PURGATORY OF SAINT PATRICK. "With the 'Purgatory of St. Pat- rick' especial pains seem to have been taken". " Considerable license has been taken with the prayer of St. Patrick ; but its spirit is well preserved, and the trans- lator's poetry must be admired". "If Calderon can ever be made popular here, it must be in the manner generally adopted by Mr. Mac-Carthy in the specimens, six in number, which are here translated, preserving, namely, the metrical form, which is one of the characteristics of the old Spanish drama. This medium, through which it partakes of the lyrical character, is no accident of style, but an essential property of that remarkable creation of a poetic age — remarkable, because while the drama so adorned was en- tirely the offspring of popular impulse, in opposition to many rigorous attempts in favour of classical methods, it was at the same time raised above the tone of common expression by the rhyth- mical mode which it assumed, in a manner decisive of its ideal tendency. It thus displays a combination rare in this kind of poetry: the spirit of an untutored will, embodied in a form the romantic expression of which might seem only congenial to choice and delicate fancies " In conclusion, what has now been said of Calderon, and of the stage which he adorned, as well as of the praise justly due to parts of Mr. Mac- Carthy's version, will at least serve to commend these volumes to curious lovers of poetry". From, an elaborate article in " The Athe- nceum", by the late eminent Spanish scholar, Mr. J. R. Charley, on the first two volumes of Mr. Mac- Carihy's translations from Calderon. THE CONSTANT PRINCE. A Drama. " In his dramas of a serious and de- vout character, in virtue of their dig- nified pathos, tragic sublimity, and re- ligious fervour, Calderon's best title to praise will be found. In such, above all in his Autos, he reached a height beyond any of his predecessors, whose productions, on religious themes espe- cially, striking as many of them are, with situations and motives of the deepest effect, are not sustained at the same impressive elevation, nor disposed with that consummate judgment which leaves nothing imperfect or superfluous in the dramas of Calderon. ' The Con- stant Prince' and 'The Physician of his own Honour', which Mr. Mac-Car- thy has translated, are noble instances representing two extremes of a large class of dramas". From the same article in " The Aihe- nceum", by J. R. Charley. List of Calderori's THE PHYSICIAN OF HIS OWN HONOUR. " ■ The Physician of his own Honour is a domestic tragedy, and must be one of the most fearful to witness ever brought upon the stage. The highest excess of dramatic powers, terror and gloom has certainly been reached in this drama". From an eloquent article in " The Dub- lin University Magazine" on " Z>. F. Mac- Carthy's Calderon"- THE SECRET IN WORDS. A Drama. "The ingenious verbal artifice of 'The Secret in Words', although a mere trifle if compared to the marvel- lous intricacy of a similar cipher in Tirso's ' Amar per Arte Mayor', from which Calderon's play was taken — loses sadly in a translation ; yet the piece, even with this disadvantage, cannot faU to please" J. JR. Chorley in " The Athenceum". THE SCARF AND THE FLOWER. A Drama. "The 'Scarf and the Flower', nice and courtly though it be, the subject spun out and entangled with infinite skill, is too thin by itself for an interest of three acts long ; and no translation, perhaps, could preserve the grace of manner and ghttering flow of dia- logue which conceal this defect in the original". J. R. Chorley in " The Athen(eum". LOTE AFTER DEATH. A Drama. " ' Love after Death' is a drama full of excitement and beauty, of passion and power, of scenes whose enthusi- astic aifection, self-devotion, and un- dying love are drawn with more intense colouring than we find in any other of Calderon's works" From an article in " The Dublin Univer- sity Magazine" on D. F. Mac- Car- thy's Calderon. "Another tragedy, 'Love after Death', is connected with the hopeless rising of the Moriscoes in the Alpu- jarras (1568-1570), one of whom is its hero. It is for many reasons worthy of note ; amongst others, as showing how far Calderon could rise above na- tional prejudices, and expend all the treasures of Ms genius in glorifying the heroic devotedness of a noble foe" Archbishop Trench. LOVE THE GREATEST EN- CHANTMENT. A Drama. " This fact connects the piece with the first and most pleasing in the volume, 'Love the greatest Enchant- ment', in which the same myth [that of Circe and Ulysses] is exhibited in a more life-like form, though not without some touches of allegory. Here we have a classical plot which is adapted to the taste of Spain in the seventeenth century by a plentiful admixture of episodes of love and gallantry. The adventure is opened with nearly the same circumstances as in the tenth Odyssey: but from the moment that Ulysses, with the help of a divine talis- man, has frustrated aU the speUs (beauty excepted) of the enchantress, the action is adapted to the manners of a more refined and chivalrous circle". "The Saturday Review''' in its review of "-Mac- Carthy's Three Plays oj Calderon"- THE DEVOTION OF THE CROSS. A Drama. " The last drama to which Mr. Mac- Carthy introduces us is the famous 'Devotion of the Cross'. We cannot deny the praise of great power to this strange and repulsive work, in which Calderon draws us onward by a deep and terrible dramatic interest, while doing cruel violence to our moral nature. . . . Our readers may be glad to compare the translations which Archbishop Trench and Mr. Mac-Car- thy have given us of a celebrated ad- dress to the Cross contained in this di-ama. 'Tree whereon the pitying skies", etc. Mr. Mac-Carthy does not appear to us to suffer from comparison on this occasion with a true poet, who is also a skilful translator. Bideed he Dramas and Autos Sacramentales. has faced the difficulties and given the sense of the original with more decision than Archbishop Trench" " The Guardian", in its review of the same volume. THE SOECEEIES OF SIN. An Auto. " The central piece, the ' Sorceries of Sin', is an 'Auto Sacramental', or Morality, of which the actors represent Man, Sin, Voluptuousness, etc.. Under- standing, and the Five Senses. The Senses are corrupted by the influence of Sin, and figuratively changed into Tidld beasts. Man, accompanied by Understanding and Penance, demands their hberation and encounters no re- sistance ; but his free-will is afterwards seduced by the Evil Power, and his allies reclaim him with difficulty. Yet the plan of the apologue is embellished with many ingenious conceits and arti- fices, and conformed in the leading cir- cumstances with an Homeric myth — the names of Ulysses and Circe being frequently substituted for those of the Man and Sin". " The Saturday Review" on "Mac- Carthy's Three Plays oj Calderon". BELSHAZZAR'S FEAST. An Auto. " The first auto translated is " Bel- shazzar's Feast', a fortunate selection, for it is probably unsurpassed in dra- matic effect and poetic description, and withal is much less encumbered with theology than most others". From an article in " The New York Nation", by a distinguished professor of Cornell University, on " Mac- Car- Carthy's Translations of Calderon". THE DrVINE PHILOTHEA. An Auto. '"The Divine Philothea', probably the last work of the kind written by Calderon, and as such worthy of atten- tion, inasmuch as it is the composition of an old man of eighty-one, is con- ceived with much boldness and exe- cuted with marvellous skill. No fewer than twenty personages are re- presented on the stage, and these have their several parts allotted to them with great discrimination, ingenuity, and judgment. The Senses, the Cardinal Virtues ; Paganism and Judaism ; He- resy and Atheism ; the Prince of Light and the Power of Darkness, figure amongst the characters". 'TAe Bookseller", June 29, 1867, on Mac- Carthy's " Mysteries of Corpus Christi (^Autos Sacramentales), from the Spanish of Calderon". THE TWO LOVERS OF HEAVEN. A Drama. " Of these ' The Wonder- working Ma- gician' is most celebrated ; but others, as 'The Joseph of Women', 'The Two Lovers of Heaven', quite deserve to be placed on a level if not higher than it. A tender pathetic grace is shed over this last, which gives it a peculiar charm". Archbishop Trench. Calderon's Autos Sacramentales, or Mysteries of Corpus Christi. Duffy : Dublin and London, 1867. From " The Irish Ecclesiastical Re- coriT\ " In conclusion, we heartily commend to our readers this most interesting and valuable specimen of Spanish thought and devotion, wrought, as it is, into such pure and beautiful Eng- lish When we remember the great literary advantages which Spain once possessed in the intellect and faith of her literary giants, we may well rejoice in the appearance among us of one of the greatest of that noble race in the person of Calderon, especially when introduced to us by a poet whose claim upon our consideration has been so emphatically made good by his own original productions as Denis Florence Mac-Carthy". THE SPANISH DRAMA Just re.ady, double columns, price 2s 6d., THE TWO LOVERS OF HEAVEN, J^rom f^E Spanish of €sliintm, BT DENIS FLOEBNOE MAC-CAETHT, Author of The Voyage of St Brendan^ The Bell - Founder ^ Waiting for the May, etc. DUBLIN: W. B. KELLY, 8 GRAFTON STREET. BY THE SAME AUTHOR. In one vol. small 4to, double columns, with the Spanish text, beautifully printed by Whittingham, Price 7s. 6d,, THREE DEAMiS OF CALDERON, FROM THE SPANISH, BY DENIS PLORENCE MAC-.CARTHY. From Ticknor's History of Spanish Literature. " It ia, I think, one of the boldest attempts ever made in English verse. It is, too, as it seems to me, remarkably succe>sful . . . " Nothing, I think, In the English language will give us so true an impression of what is most characteristic of the Spanish drama: perhaps I ought to say, of wliat is most characteristic of Spanish poetry generally". — tom. lit pp. 461,462. BERNARD QUARITCH, 15 PICCADILLr, LONDON. ^ -i"i.isi'E,A'^C^''Y<'Tmwi»/;i-f"« mmWm