ACT III
Scene I.—A Room in the Palace.
Prince and Don Arias.
Ar. How well the night went off! did not the music,
The lights, the dances, and the ladies’ eyes,
Divert your Grace’s sadness?
Prince. Rather, Arias,
Doubled it.
Whithersoever Donna Anna moved,
My eyes, that ever follow’d hers along,
Saw them pursue Don Cesar through the crowd
And only rest on him; I cursed him then,
And then excused him, as the judge should do
Whose heart is yearning with the guilt he damns.
Ar. Where will this passion end?
Prince. I think in death,
Led by the fatal secret you have told me.
Ar. I err’d, my lord; but all shall yet be well.
But hush! Don Cesar comes.
Prince. Make out of him
How sits the wind of love. Behind this screen
I’ll listen. (Hides.)
Enter Cesar.
Ar. Well, Don Cesar?
Ces. Nay, ill, Don Cesar!
Misfortune on misfortune! ev’n good fortune
Forswears her nature but to scowl on me!
Led by her letter, as the shades of night
Were drawing in, I went—not now to stand
Under her lattice with the cold, cold moon
For company, but in the very room
My lady warms and lightens with her presence!
There when we two had just begun to whisper
The first sweet words of love, upon a sudden
As by some evil spirit prompted, her brother
Comes in, and on some frivolous pretext
Carries her to the palace. I suspect
He knows my purpose.
Ar. Nay—
Prince (listening). He little thinks
His evil spirit is so near him now.
Ces. Ay, and dead weary of these sicken’d hopes
And lost occasions, I have resolved to break
Through disappointment and impediment,
And turning secret love to open suit,
Secure at once her honour, and her brother’s,
And my own everlasting happiness,
By asking her fair hand, fore all the world!
[Exit.
Ar. You heard, my lord?
Prince (advancing). And if he ask her hand,
Felix will grant it as assuredly
As I would my own sister’s! Oh, Don Arias,
What now?
Ar. Don Felix comes.
Prince. There’s yet one way,
He comes in time—Felix!
Enter Felix.
Fel. My lord!
Prince. Come hither.
You came in time—were present in my thoughts
Before your coming. Hark you. I have long
Long’d to requite your many services,
By more substantial meed than empty breath,
Too oft, they say, the end of princes’ favour.
Much I design for you; but in mean time,
As some foretaste and earnest of my love,
A kinsman, a near kinsman of my own,
Has set his heart upon the lady Anna,
Your sister; fain would have her hand in marriage:
And I, with your good liking,
Have promised it to him.
Fel. Oh, my good lord,
Your favour overpowers me!
Prince. Much content
Both for his sake, so near of my own blood,
(His letters show how deep his passion is,)
And yours, if you approve it.
Fel. Did I not,
Your will would be my law.
Prince. Why this is well then.
We’ll talk it over at our leisure; meanwhile,
For certain reasons, let this contract be
Between ourselves alone—you taking care
To pledge your sister’s hand no other way.
Fel. Oh, trust to me, my lord—Heav’n watch above
Your Highness!
Prince (aside). Oh mad end of foolish love!
[Exit.
Fel. I’ll straight away,
And tell my sister of the happiness
Awaits her. And may be shall learn of her
How my own suit prospers with Nisida,
The Prince’s sister, which his present favour
Now blows upon so fairly. Cesar!
Enter Cesar.
Ces. Well found at last. Oh, Felix!
Fel. What is ’t now?
Your heart seems labouring.
Ces. Yours must lighten it.
You know, Don Felix, how by blood and birth
I am a gentleman—not less, I trust,
In breeding and attainment; my estate
Sufficient for my birth—nurst by the Prince
In his own palace from my earliest years,
Until, howe’er unworthy of such honour,
Received into his inmost heart and council:
So far at least fitted for state affairs,
As ever given from my earliest youth
Rather to letters than to arms. Enough:
You know all this, and know, or ought to know,
How much I am your friend?
Fel. I do believe it.
Ces. Yea, Felix, and would fain that friendship knit
By one still closer tie—Have you not guess’d,
By many a sign more unmistakeable
Than formal declaration, that I love—
Presumptuously perhaps—but that I love
One of your house. Which saying all is said:
For she is all your house who calls you ‘Brother.’
Fel. Cesar, Heav’n knows how faithfully my heart
Answers to yours in all; how much I prize
The honour you would do me. Would to God
That I had seen the signs of love you talk of,
Pointing this way; there is, I do assure you,
No man in all the world to whom more gladly
I would ally my sister and myself;
But I did not. I grieve that it is so,
But dare not cancel what is now, too late,
Irrevocably agreed on with another.
Ces. By this ‘too late,’ I think you only mean
To tantalize my too late declaration.
If that be your intent, I am well punisht
Already; be content with my contrition.
You say you love me; and would well desire
To see me wed your sister; seal at once
My happiness, nor chill the opening day,
Nor my love’s blossom, by a lingering ‘Yea.’
Fel. Indeed, indeed, my Cesar, not to revenge
Delay of speech, or insufficient token,
But with repeated sorrow I repeat,
My sister’s hand is pledged beyond recall,
And to another; whom, for certain reasons,
I dare not name, not even to herself,
As yet—
Ces. If I survive, ’tis that fate knows
How much more terrible is life than death!
Don Felix, you have well revenged yourself
Upon my vain ambition, speech delay’d,
And signs that you would not articulate;
But let my fate be as it will, may hers,
Hers, yea, and his whose life you link to hers,
Be so indissolubly prosperous,
That only death forget to envy them!
Farewell.
Fel. Farewell then: and remember, Cesar,
Let not this luckless business interrupt
Our long and loving intimacy.
Ces. Nay.
It shall not, cannot, Felix, come what may.
[Exeunt severally.
Enter Prince.
Prince. When in my love’s confusion and excess
I fancy many a fond unlikely chance,
Desire grows stronger, resolution less,
I linger more the more I would advance.
False to my nobler self, I madly seize
Upon a medicine alien to my ill;
And feeding still with that should cure disease,
At once my peace and reputation kill
By turns; as the conflicting passions fire,
And chase each other madly through my breast,
I worship and despise, blame and admire,
Weep and rejoice, and covet and detest.
Alas! a bitter bargain he must choose,
Who love with life, or life with love, must lose!
Enter Lazaro.
Laz. Where can my master be? I shall go crazy, I think, running from room to room, and house to house, after him and his distracted wits.
Prince. Lazaro! Well, what news abroad?
Laz. Ah, my lord, there has been little of that under the sun this long while, they say. For instance, the slasht doublets just come into fashion, and which they call new; why ’twas I invented them years ago.
Prince. You! how?
Laz. Why, look you; once on a time when I was not so well off as now, and my coat was out at elbows, the shirt came through: many saw and admired— and so it has grown into a fashion.
Prince. Who listens to you but carries away food for reflection!
[Exit.
Laz. Aha! you are somewhat surfeited with that already, I take it.
So while the world her wonted journey keeps,
Lazarus chuckles while poor Dives weeps.
Enter Cesar.
Ces. Lazaro, I waited till the Prince was gone.
Listen to me. Don Felix has betroth’d
His sister to another, not to me;
He will not tell me whom, nor does it matter:
All ill alike. But out of this despair
I’ll pluck the crown that hope could never reach.
There is no time to lose; this very night
I’ll carry her away.
Laz. Only beware
Telling Don Arias what you mean to do.
Is ’t possible you see not all along
Your secret playing on his faithless lips?
Here’s one last chance.
Ces. True, true.
Laz. You cannot lose
By secrecy—what gain by telling him?
Ces. You may be right: and to clear up the cause
Of past mischance, and make the future safe,
I’ll take your counsel.
Laz. Then hey for victory!
Meanwhile, sir, talk with all and trust in none,
And least of all in him is coming hither.
And then in ocean when the weary sun
Washes his swollen face, ‘there shall be done
A deed of dreadful note.’
Enter Arias.
Ar. How now, Don Cesar?
Laz. (aside). Here are you, be sure,
When aught is stirring.
Ar. How speeds Love with you?
Laz. (aside). The lighter, sir, now you are left behind.
Ces. Arias, my friend! All’s lost!
The love I grew deep in my heart of hearts
Is wither’d at the moment of its blossom.
I went to Felix, ask’d his sister’s hand:
It was betroth’d, he told me, to another:
I was too late. All’s lost! It were in vain
Weeping for that I never can attain:
I will forget what I must needs forgo,
And turn to other—
Laz. (to Arias). Pray, sir, pardon me;
But pri’thee say no more to him just now;
It brings on such a giddiness.
Ar. Alas!
But can I be of service?
Laz. Only, sir,
By saying nothing more.
Ar. I am truly sorry.
[Exit.
Laz. That you can lie no longer in the matter.
Oh, the Lord speed you!
Ces. O Love, if mortal anguish ever move thee,
At this last hour requite me with one smile
For all thy sorrows! let what I have suffer’d
Appease thy jealous godhead! I complain not
That you condemn my merits as too poor
For the great glory they aspire unto;
Yet who could brook to see a rival bear
The wreath that neither can deserve to wear!
Enter Prince and Arias.
Prince (to Arias). Even so?
Good. That he may not think ’twas out of malice,
I made my business trench upon his love,
Now that his love’s but Love-in-idleness,
I’ll occupy him still. Cesar!
Ces. My lord!
Prince. I had like to have forgot. ’Tis Monday, is ’t not?
I have despatches both for Rome and Naples
We must see to them to-night.
Ces. My lord!
Prince. Bring hither
Your writing.
Ces. (apart). Oh! the cup-full at my lips,
And dasht down, and for ever!
(To Lazaro.) Villain, the victory you told me of!
Laz. What fault of mine, sir?
Ces. What fault? said you not
All now was well?
Laz. Is ’t I who make it wrong?
Ces. You meddled.
Prince. Are you ready?
Ces. Immediately.
Alas, alas! how shall my pen run clear
Of the thick fountain that is welling here!
Prince (aside). And I shall learn from you how that dark pair
Contrive to smile, Jealousy and Despair.
[Desk and papers brought in: exeunt Arias and Lazaro.
Now, are you ready? (Cesar sits at the desk.)
Ces. Ay, my lord.
Prince. Begin then.
‘I am secretly’—
Ces. ‘Secretly’—driven to madness!
Prince. ‘About the marriage’—
Ces. ‘Marriage’—that never shall take place!
Prince. ‘All is fair for you’—
Ces. ‘For you’—though perdition to me!
Prince. ‘Believe me’—
Ces. I shall not survive it!
Prince. ‘That Donna Anna of Castelvi’—
Ces. ‘That Donna Anna’—I can write no more!
Prince. ‘Is such in birth, beauty, and wit’—
Ces. Oh, my lord, pardon me; but may I know
This letter’s destination?
Prince. Eh? to Flanders.
Why do you ask?
Ces. To Flanders! But, my lord,
Surely no Flemish courier leaves to-day,
Might not to-morrow—
Prince (aside). At the name of Anna
His colour changed. (Aloud.) No matter. ’Tis begun,
And we’ll ev’n finish it. Where left I off?
Ces. (reading). ‘Can write no more’—
Prince. Eh? ‘Write no more?’ Did I
Say that?
Ces. My lord?
Prince. The letter. Give me it.
Ces. (aside). Come what come may then, what is writ is writ!
Prince (reading). ‘I am secretly driven to madness about the marriage that never shall take place. All is fair for you, though perdition to me. Believe me I shall not survive it, that Donna Anna—I can write no more.’
Was this what I dictated?
Ces. (throwing himself at the Prince’s feet). O my lord,
O noble Alexander! if the service
You have so often praised beyond desert
Deserve of you at all, snatch not from me
The only crown I ever ask’d for it,
To gild a less familiar brow withal.
This lady, Donna Anna,
Whom you are now devoting to another,
Is mine, my lord; mine, if a two years’ suit
Of unremitted love not unreturn’d
Should make her mine; which mine beyond dispute
Would long ere this have made her, had not I
How many a golden opportunity
Lost from my love to spend it on my Prince!
And this is my reward! Oh, knew I not
How the ill star that rules my destiny
Might of itself dispose the gracious Prince,
Who call’d me for his friend from infancy,
To act my bitterest enemy unawares,
I might believe some babbler—
Prince. Nay, Don Cesar,
If in all these cross purposes of love
You recognise the secret hand of fate,
Accuse no mortal tongue, which could not reach
The stars that rule us all, wag as it would.
Enough. I am aggrieved, and not, I think,
Unjustly, that without my pleasure, nay,
Without my knowledge even, you, my subject,
And servant, (leaving the dear name of friend,)
Disposed so of yourself, and of a lady
Whose grace my court considers as its own.
Give me the pen: and, as you write so laxly,
I must myself report—
Ces. My lord!
Prince. The pen. (He writes.)
Ces. If in misfortune’s quiver there be left
One arrow, let it come!
Prince. You could not write,
Don Cesar; but perhaps can seal this letter:
Tis for Don Felix; send it to him straight.
Or stay—I’d have it go by a sure hand:
Take it yourself directly.
Ces. At one blow
My love and friendship laid for ever low!
[Exit.
Enter Felix and Arias.
Ar. The letter must be written.
Prince. Oh, Don Felix,
I have this moment sent to you. No matter:
’Twas but to say I have this instant heard
Your sister’s bridegroom is in Parma; nay,
Perhaps already at your house.
Fel. Oh, my lord,
How shall I thank you for this gracious news?
Prince. Nay, we will hear them from your sister’s lips.
To her at once.
[Exit Felix.
And now, Don Arias,
You have to swear upon the holy cross
That hilts this sword, that neither Donna Anna
Know that I ever loved her, nor Don Cesar
I ever cross’d his love.
Ar. Upon this cross
I swear it; and beseech you in return
Never, my lord, to tell Don Cesar who
Reveal’d his secret.
Prince. Be it so. I promise.
And now to see whether indeed I dare
Compete with him whose lofty name I wear.
[Exeunt.
Scene II.—A Room in Felix’s House.
Anna and Elvira.
Anna. Beside the charge of my own love, Elvira,
Whose crosses, I believe, will slay me soon,
My brother has confided to me at last
His passion for the Princess Nisida;
And, for he knows that I am near her heart,
Would have me whisper it into her ears;
Which, were it such a passion as I feel,
His eyes would have reveal’d her long ago.
However, I have told her, and have got
An answer such—But look! he comes.
Enter Felix.
Fel. Oh, sister,
Might but your news be half as good as mine!
A largess for it, come. You are betroth’d,
By me, and by the Prince himself, to one
In all ways worthy of you, and who long
Has silently adored.
Anna (aside). Is it possible?
Cesar! (Aloud.) Well, ask the largess that you will.
Fel. The Princess—
Anna. Well?
Fel. What says she?
Anna. All she could
At the first blush—nothing—and that means all:
Go to her, and press out the lingering Yes
That lives, they say, in silence.
Fel. Oh, my sister!
But who comes here?
Enter Cesar and Lazaro.
Ces. (giving the letter). I, Felix. This must be
My warrant—from the Prince. Oh misery!
Fel. I thank you, Cesar. (Reads.) ‘Because happiness is the less welcome when anticipated, I have hitherto withheld from you, that he to whom I have engaged your sister’s hand, is—Don Cesar! in whom unites all that man or woman can desire. If the man lives who can deserve such glory, it is he. Farewell.’
Ces. Great Heav’n!
Fel. Nay, read the letter.
Enter Prince, Nisida, Arias, and Train.
Prince. He shall not need,
Myself am here to speak it.
Ces. (kneeling). Oh, my lord!
Prince. Rise, Cesar. If your service, as it did,
Ask’d for reward, I think you have it now;
Such as not my dominion alone,
But all the world beside, could not supply.
Madam, your hand; Don Cesar, yours. I come
To give away the bride:
And after must immediately away
To Flanders, where by Philip’s trumpet led,
I will wear Maestricht’s laurel round my brows;
Leaving meanwhile Don Felix Governor
Till my return—by this sign manual.
[Puts Nisida’s hand in Felix’s.
Fel. My lord, my lord!
Laz. Elvira!
Elv. Lazaro!
Laz. I must be off. Our betters if we ape,
And they ape marriage, how shall we escape?
Ar. And learn this moral. None commend
A secret ev’n to trustiest friend:
Which secret still in peril lies
Even in the breast of the most wise;
And at his blabbing who should groan
Who could not even keep his own?
There are three other plays by Calderon, on this subject of keeping one’s love secret; a policy, whose neglect is punisht by a policy characteristically Spanish. 1. Amigo, Amante, y Leal: which has the same Prince and Arias, only the Prince confides his love to his rival. 2. El Secreto a Voces: where it is the ladies who shuffle the secret about the men. And 3. Basta Callar, a more complicated intrigue than any.