The Two Lovers of Heaven: Chrysanthus and Daria by Pedro Calderón de la Barca (smart books to read txt) 📖

I too will resume my song.

DARIA. I, that I may not renew Such reproaches, whilst you sing, Whilst you read, in this clear spring Thoughtfully myself shall view.

NISIDA sings. O nightingale, whose sweet exulting strain Tells of thy triumphs to the listening 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 remain!

Enter CHRYSANTHUS, CLAUDIUS, and ESCARPIN.

CLAUDIUS, to Chrysanthus. Does not the beauty of this wood, This tranquil wood, delight thee?

CHRYSANTHUS.
Yes: Here nature's lord doth dower and bless The world in most indulgent mood. Who could believe this greenwood here For the first time has blessed mine eyes?

CLAUDIUS. It is the second Paradise, Of deities the verdant sphere.

CHRYSANTHUS. 'T is more, this green and grassy glade Whither our careless steps have strolled, For here three objects we behold Equally fair by distance made. Of these that chain our willing feet, There yonder where the path is leading, One is a lady calmly reading, One is a lady singing sweet, And one whose rapt though idle air Gives us to understand this truth- A woman blessed with charms and youth, Does quite enough in being fair.

ESCARPIN. You are quite right in that, I 've seen Beauties enough of that sort too.

CLAUDIUS. If of the three here given to view, The choice were thine to choose between, Which of them best would suit thy taste? Which wouldst thou make thy choice of, say?

CHRYSANTHUS. 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 ill, Of one her charms, of one her skill, 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?

CHRYSANTHUS.
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 'll go. For these men that here have strayed Must have heard me while I played. [Exeunt Nisida and Chloris.

CYNTHIA. One of them I think I know. Yes, 't is Claudius, as I thought, Now he has a chance: I 'll see If he cares to follow me, Guessing rightly what has brought Me to-day unto the grove:- Ah! if love to grief is leading Of what use to me is reading In the Remedies of Love? [Exit.

DARIA (to herself). In these bowers by trees o'ergrown, Here contented I remain, All companionship is vain, Save my own sweet thoughts alone:-

CLAUDIUS. Dear Chrysanthus, 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, till we Meet again. [Exit.

CHRYSANTHUS.
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.

ESCARPIN. Strange that I should feel as you, That one thought should fire us two, I too, sir, have lost my senses Since I saw that lady.

CHRYSANTHUS.
Who, Madman! fool! do you speak of? you! Dare to feel those griefs of mine!-

ESCARPIN. No, sir, yours I quite resign, Would I could my own ones too!-

CHRYSANTHUS. Leave me, or my wrath you 'll rue; Hence! buffoon: by heaven I swear it, I will kill you else.

ESCARPIN.
I go:- For if you address her, oh! Could my jealous bosom bear it? [aside [Exit.

CHRYSANTHUS (to Daria). If my boldness so may dare it, I desire to ask, senora, If thou art this heaven's Aurora, If the goddess of this fountain, If the Juno of this mountain, If of these bright flowers the Flora, So that I may rightly know In what style should speak to thee My hushed voice . . . but pardon me Now I would not thou said'st so. Looking at thee now, the glow Of thy beauty so excelleth, Every charm so plainly telleth Thou Diana's self must be; Yes, Diana's self is she, Who within her grove here dwelleth.

DARIA. If, before you spoke to me, You desired my name to know, I in your case act not so, Since I speak, whoe'er you be, Forced, but most unwillingly (As to listening heaven is plain) To reply:-a bootless task Were it in me, indeed, to ask, Since, whoe'er you be, my strain Must be one of proud disdain. So I pray you, cavalier, Leave me in this lonely wood, Leave me in the solitude I enjoyed ere you came here.

CHRYSANTHUS. Sweetly, but with tone severe, Thus my error you reprove- That of asking in this grove What your name is: you 're so fair, That, whatever name you bear, I must tell you of my love.

DARIA. Love! a word to me unknown, Sounds so strangely in my ears, That my heart nor feels nor hears Aught of it when it has flown.

CHRYSANTHUS. Then there is no rashness shown In repeating it once more, Since to hear or to ignore Suits alike your stoic coldness.

DARIA. Yes, the speech, but not the boldness Of the speaker I pass o'er, For this word, whate'er it be, When it breaks upon my ear, Quick 't is gone, although I hear.

CHRYSANTHUS. You forget it?

DARIA.
Instantly.

CHRYSANTHUS. What! love's sweetest word! ah, me! Canst forget the mightiest ray Death can dart, or heaven display?

DARIA. Yes, for lightning, entering where Naught resists, is lost in air.

CHRYSANTHUS. How? what way?

DARIA.
Well, in this way: If two doors in one straight line Open lie, and lightning falls, Then the bolt between the walls Passes through, and leaves no sign. So 't is with this word of thine; Though love be, which I do n't doubt, Like heaven's bolt that darts about, Still two opposite doors I 've here, And what enters by one ear By the other ear goes out.

CHRYSANTHUS. If this lightning then darts through Where no door lies open wide To let it pass at the other side, Must not fire and flame ensue? This being so, 't is also true That the fire of love that flies Into my heart, in flames must rise, Since without its feast of fire The fatal flash cannot retire, That has entered by the eyes.

DARIA. If to what I said but now You had listened, I believe You would have preferred to leave Still unspoken love's vain vow. This you would yourself allow.

CHRYSANTHUS. What then was it?

DARIA.
I do n't know: Something 't was that typified My presumption and my pride.

CHRYSANTHUS. Let me know it even so.

DARIA. That in me no love could grow Save for one who first would die For my love.

CHRYSANTHUS.
And death being past, Would he win your love at last?-

DARIA. Yes, on that he might rely.

CHRYSANTHUS. Then I plight my troth that I Will to that reward aspire,- A poor offering at the fire By those beauteous eyes supplied.

DARIA. But as you have not yet died, Pray do n't follow me, but retire. [Exit.

CHRYSANTHUS. In what bosom, at one moment, Oh! ye heavens! e'er met together[6] Such a host of anxious troubles? Such a crowd of boding terrors? Can I be the same calm student Who awhile ago here wended? To a miracle of beauty, To a fair face now surrendered, I scarce know what brought me hither, I my purpose scarce remember. What bewitchment, what enchantment, What strange lethargy, what frenzy Can have to my heart, those eyes Such divine delirium sent me? What divinity, desirous That I should not know the endless Mysteries of the book I carry, In my path such snares presenteth, Seeking from these serious studies To distract me and divert me? But what 's this I say? One passion Accidentally developed, Should not be enough, no, no, From myself myself to sever. If the violence of one star Draws me to a deity's service, It compels not; for the planets Draw, but force not, the affections. Free is yet my will, my mind too, Free is still my heart: then let me Try to solve more noble problems Than the doubts that love presenteth. And since Claudius, the new Clytie[7] Of the sun, whose golden tresses Lead him in pursuit, her footsteps Follows through the wood, my servant Having happily too departed, 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 'll approach them to endeavour To find there Carpophorus:- He alone, the wise, the learn`ed, 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 Chrysanthus, who enters.


CHRYSANTHUS. What a labyrinthine thicket Is this place that I have entered! Nature here takes little 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