But through my star’s malignant potency,
Preferring in my heart a guiltless death
Before a life held up to vulgar scorn.
If, therefore, you vouchsafe me any grace,
Let me presume the greatest grace would be
That you should straightway leave me.[643]
Other passages might be adduced; but, though striking, they do not enter into the essential interest of the drama. This consists in the exhibition of the heroic character of Herod, broken down by a cruel jealousy, over which the beautiful innocence of his wife triumphs only at the moment of her death; while above them both the fatal dagger, like the unrelenting destiny of the ancient Greek tragedy, hangs suspended, seen only by the spectators, who witness the unavailing struggles of its victims to escape from a fate in which, with every effort, they become more and more involved.
Other dramas of Calderon rely for their success on a high sense of loyalty, with little or no admixture of love or jealousy. The most prominent of these is “The Firm-hearted Prince.”[644] Its plot is founded on the expedition against the Moors in Africa by the Portuguese Infante Don Ferdinand, in 1438, which ended with the total defeat of the invaders before Tangier, and the captivity of the prince himself, who died in a miserable bondage in 1443;—his very bones resting for thirty years among the misbelievers, till they were at last brought home to Lisbon and buried with reverence, as those of a saint and martyr. This story Calderon found in the old and beautiful Portuguese chronicles of Joam Alvares and Ruy de Pina; but he makes the sufferings of the prince voluntary, thus adding to Ferdinand’s character the self-devotion of Regulus, and so fitting it to be the subject of a deep tragedy, founded on the honor of a Christian patriot.[645]
The first scene is one of lyrical beauty, in the gardens of the king of Fez, whose daughter is introduced as enamoured of Muley Hassan, her father’s principal general. Immediately afterwards, Hassan enters and announces the approach of a Christian armament commanded by the two Portuguese Infantes. He is despatched to prevent their landing, but fails, and is himself taken prisoner by Don Ferdinand in person. A long dialogue follows between the captive and his conqueror, entirely formed by an unfortunate amplification of a beautiful ballad of Góngora, which is made to explain the attachment of the Moorish general to the king’s daughter, and the probability—if he continues in captivity—that she will be compelled to marry the Prince of Morocco. The Portuguese Infante, with chivalrous generosity, gives up his prisoner without ransom, but has hardly done so, before he is attacked by a large army under the Prince of Morocco, and made prisoner himself.
From this moment begins that trial of Don Ferdinand’s patience and fortitude which gives its title to the drama. At first, indeed, the king treats him generously, thinking to exchange him for Ceuta, an important fortress recently won by the Portuguese, and their earliest foothold in Africa. But this constitutes the great obstacle. The king of Portugal, who had died of grief on receiving the news of his brother’s captivity, had, it is true, left an injunction in his will that Ceuta should be surrendered and the prince ransomed. But when Henry, one of his brothers, appears on the stage, and announces that he has come to fulfil this solemn command, Ferdinand suddenly interrupts him in the offer, and reveals at once the whole of his character:—