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epub:type="z3998:persona">The Statue To be sure: Ana. A good-looking girl, if I recollect aright. Have you warned Whatshisname⁠—her husband? Don Juan My friend Ottavio? No: I have not seen him since Ana arrived. Ana comes indignantly to light. Ana What does this mean? Ottavio here and your friend! And you, father, have forgotten my name. You are indeed turned to stone. The Statue My dear: I am so much more admired in marble than I ever was in my own person that I have retained the shape the sculptor gave me. He was one of the first men of his day: you must acknowledge that. Ana Father! Vanity! Personal vanity! From you! The Statue Ah, you outlived that weakness, my daughter: you must be nearly 80 by this time. I was cut off (by an accident) in my 64th year, and am considerably your junior in consequence. Besides, my child, in this place, what our libertine friend here would call the farce of parental wisdom is dropped. Regard me, I beg, as a fellow creature, not as a father. Ana You speak as this villain speaks. The Statue Juan is a sound thinker, Ana. A bad fencer, but a sound thinker. Ana Horror creeping upon her. I begin to understand. These are devils, mocking me. I had better pray. The Statue Consoling her. No, no, no, my child: do not pray. If you do, you will throw away the main advantage of this place. Written over the gate here are the words “Leave every hope behind, ye who enter.” Only think what a relief that is! For what is hope? A form of moral responsibility. Here there is no hope, and consequently no duty, no work, nothing to be gained by praying, nothing to be lost by doing what you like. Hell, in short, is a place where you have nothing to do but amuse yourself. Don Juan sighs deeply. You sigh, friend Juan; but if you dwelt in Heaven, as I do, you would realize your advantages. Don Juan You are in good spirits today, Commander. You are positively brilliant. What is the matter? The Statue I have come to a momentous decision, my boy. But first, where is our friend the Devil? I must consult him in the matter. And Ana would like to make his acquaintance, no doubt. Ana You are preparing some torment for me. Don Juan All that is superstition, Ana. Reassure yourself. Remember: the Devil is not so black as he is painted. The Statue Let us give him a call. At the wave of the statue’s hand the great chords roll out again but this time Mozart’s music gets grotesquely adulterated with Gounod’s. A scarlet halo begins to glow; and into it the Devil rises, very Mephistophelean, and not at all unlike Mendoza, though not so interesting. He looks older; is getting prematurely bald; and, in spite of an effusion of good nature and friendliness, is peevish and sensitive when his advances are not reciprocated. He does not inspire much confidence in his powers of hard work or endurance, and is, on the whole, a disagreeably self-indulgent looking person; but he is clever and plausible, though perceptibly less well bred than the two other men, and enormously less vital than the woman. The Devil Heartily. Have I the pleasure of again receiving a visit from the illustrious Commander of Calatrava? Coldly. Don Juan, your servant. Politely. And a strange lady? My respects, Señora. Ana Are you⁠— The Devil Bowing. Lucifer, at your service. Ana I shall go mad. The Devil Gallantly. Ah, Señora, do not be anxious. You come to us from Earth, full of the prejudices and terrors of that priest-ridden place. You have heard me ill spoken of; and yet, believe me, I have hosts of friends there. Ana Yes: you reign in their hearts. The Devil Shaking his head. You flatter me, Señora; but you are mistaken. It is true that the world cannot get on without me; but it never gives me credit for that: in its heart it mistrusts and hates me. Its sympathies are all with misery, with poverty, with starvation of the body and of the heart. I call on it to sympathize with joy, with love, with happiness, with beauty. Don Juan Nauseated. Excuse me: I am going. You know I cannot stand this. The Devil Angrily. Yes: I know that you are no friend of mine. The Statue What harm is he doing you, Juan? It seems to me that he was talking excellent sense when you interrupted him. The Devil Warmly shaking the statue’s hand. Thank you, my friend: thank you. You have always understood me: he has always disparaged and avoided me. Don Juan I have treated you with perfect courtesy. The Devil Courtesy! What is courtesy? I care nothing for mere courtesy. Give me warmth of heart, true sincerity, the bond of sympathy with love and joy⁠— Don Juan You are making me ill. The Devil There! Appealing to the statue. You hear, sir! Oh, by what irony of fate was this cold selfish egotist sent to my kingdom, and you taken to the icy mansions of the sky! The Statue I can’t complain. I was a hypocrite; and it served me right to be sent to Heaven. The Devil Why, sir, do you not join us, and leave a sphere for which your temperament is too sympathetic, your heart too warm, your capacity for enjoyment too generous? The Statue I have this day resolved to do so. In future, excellent Son of the Morning, I am yours. I have left Heaven forever. The Devil Again grasping his hand. Ah, what an honor for me! What a triumph for our cause! Thank you, thank you. And now, my friend⁠—I may call you so at last⁠—could you not persuade him to take the place you have left vacant above? The Statue Shaking his head. I cannot conscientiously recommend anybody with whom I am on friendly terms to deliberately make himself dull and uncomfortable. The Devil

Of course not;

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