“The Scarf and the Flower,”[655] which, from internal evidence, is to be placed in the year 1632, is another of the happy specimens of Calderon’s manner in this class of dramas; but, unlike the last, love-jealousies constitute the chief complication of its intrigue.[656] The scene is laid at the court of the Duke of Florence. Two ladies give the hero of the piece, one a scarf and the other a flower; but they are both so completely veiled when they do it, that he is unable to distinguish one of them from the other. The mistakes, which arise from attributing each of these marks of favor to the wrong lady, constitute the first series of troubles and suspicions. These are further aggravated by the conduct of the Grand Duke, who, for his own princely convenience, requires the hero to show marked attentions to a third lady; so that the relations of the lover are thrown into the greatest possible confusion, until a sudden danger to his life brings out an involuntary expression of the true lady’s attachment, which is answered with a delight so sincere on his part as to leave no doubt of his affection. This restores the confidence of the parties, and the dénouement is of course happy.
There are in this, as in most of the dramas of Calderon belonging to the same class, great freshness and life, and a tone truly Castilian, courtly, and graceful. Lisida, who loves Henry, the hero, and gave him the flower, finds him wearing her rival’s scarf, and, from this and other circumstances, naturally accuses him of being devoted to that rival;—an accusation which he denies, and explains the delusive appearance on the ground, that he approached one lady, as the only way to reach the other. The dialogue in which he defends himself is extremely characteristic of the gallant style of the Spanish drama, especially in that ingenious turn and repetition of the same idea in different figures of speech, which grows more and more condensed as it approaches its conclusion.
Lisida.
But how can you deny the very thing
Which, with my very eyes, I now behold?
Henry.
By full denial that you see such thing.
Lisida.
Were you not, like the shadow of her house,
Still ever in the street before it?