The Two Lovers of Heaven: Chrysanthus and Daria by Pedro Calderón de la Barca (classic books for 12 year olds .TXT) 📕

decreed; Thus too is found for feverish love 'The bless`ed rapture of forgetting.' The starry wonders of the night, The arbiters of fate on high, Nothing can dim: To see their light Is easy, but to draw more nigh The orbs themselves, exceeds our might. Thus 't is to know, and only know, The troubled heart, the trembling nerve, To sweet oblivion's blank may owe Their rest, but, ah! that cure of woe 'Never doth my heart deserve.' Then what imports it that there be, For all the ills of heart or brain, A sweet oblivious remedy, If it, when 't is applied to me, Fails to cure me of my pain? Forgetfulness in me doth serve No useful purpose: But why fret My heart at this? Do I deserve, Strange contradiction! to forget 'What my memory would preserve?' And thus my pain in straits like these, Must needs despise the only sure Remedial means of partial ease- That is-to perish of the cure Rather than die of the disease. Then not in wailing or in fretting, My love, accept thy fate, but let This victory o'er myself, to thee Bring consolation, pride, and glee, Since what I wish not to forget 'Is the memory I 'm regretting.'

CHRYSANTHUS. 'T is not through the voice alone Music breathes its soft enchantment.[10] All things that in concord blend Find in music their one language. Thou with thy delicious sweetness [To Nisida] Host my heart at once made captive;- Thou with thy melodious verses [To Cynthia] Hast my very soul enraptured. Ah! how subtly thou dost reason! Ah! how tenderly thou chantest! Thou with thy artistic skill, Thou with thy clear understanding. But what say I? I speak falsely, For you both are sphinxes rather, Who with flattering words seduce me But to ruin me hereafter:- Leave me; go: I cannot listen To your wiles.

NISIDA.
My lord, oh! hearken To my song once more.

CYNTHIA.
Wait! stay!

NISIDA. Why thus treat with so much harshness Those who mourn thy deep dejection?

ESCARPIN. Oh! how soon they 'd have an answer If they asked of me these questions. I know how to treat such tattle: Leave them, sir, to me.

CHRYSANTHUS.
My senses 'Gainst their lures I must keep guarded: They are crocodiles, but feigning Human speech, so but to drag me To my ruin, my destruction.

NISIDA. Since my voice will still attract thee, 'T is of little use to fly me.

CYNTHIA. Though thou dost thy best to guard thee, While I gloss the words she singeth To my genius thou must hearken.

CHRYSANTHUS (aside.) God whom I adore! since I Help myself, Thy help, oh! grant me!

NISIDA. "Ah! the joy" . . . . (she becomes confused.
But what is this? Icy torpor coldly fastens On my hands; the lute drops from me, And my very breath departeth.

CYNTHIA. Since she cannot sing; then listen To this subtle play of fancy: "Love, if thou 'rt my god" . . . . (she becomes confused.
But how, What can have my mind so darkened What my memory so confuses, What my voice can so embarrass?

NISIDA. I am turned to frost and fire, I am changed to living marble.

CYNTHIA. Frozen over is my breast, And my heart is cleft and hardened.

CHRYSANTHUS. Thus to lose your wits, ye two, What can have so strangely happened?

ESCARPIN. Being poets and musicians, Quite accounts, sir, for their absence.

NISIDA. Heavens! beneath the noontide sun To be left in total darkness!

CYNTHIA. In an instant, O ye heavens! O'er your vault can thick clouds gather?

NISIDA. 'Neath the contact of my feet Earth doth tremble, and I stagger.

CYNTHIA. Mountains upon mountains seem On my shoulders to be balanced.

ESCARPIN. So it always is with those Who make verses, or who chant them.

CHRYSANTHUS. Of the one God whom I worship These are miracles, are marvels.

(Enter Daria.)

DARIA. Here, Chrysanthus, I have come . . .

NISIDA. Stay, Daria.

CYNTHIA.
Stay, 't is rashness Here to come, for, full of wonders, Full of terrors is this garden.

ESCARPIN. Do not enter: awful omens Threat'ning death await thy advent.

NISIDA. By my miseries admonished . . . .

CYNTHIA. By my strange misfortune startled . . .

NISIDA. Flying from myself, I leave This green sphere, dismayed, distracted.

CYNTHIA. Without soul or life I fly, Overwhelmed by this enchantment.

NISIDA. Oh! how dreadful!

CYNTHIA.
Oh! how awful!

NISIDA. Oh! the horror!

CYNTHIA.
Oh! the anguish! [Exeunt Cynthia and Nisida.]

ESCARPIN. Mad with jealousy and rage Have the tuneful twain departed.

DARIA (aside). Chastisements for due offences Do not fright me, do not startle, For if they through arrogance And ambition sought this garden, Me the worship of the gods Here has led, and so I 'm guarded 'Gainst all sorceries whatsoever, 'Gainst all forms of Christian magic:- Art thou then Chrysanthus?

CHRYSANTHUS.
Yes.

DARIA. Not confused or troubled, rather With a certain fear I see thee, For which I have grounds most ample.

CHRYSANTHUS. Why?

DARIA.
Because I thought thou wert One who in a darksome cavern Died to show thy love for me.

CHRYSANTHUS. I have yet been not so happy As to have a chance, Daria, Of thus proving my attachment.

DARIA. Be that so, I 've come to seek thee, Confident, completely sanguine, That I have the power to conquer, I alone, thy pains, thy anguish; Though against me thou shouldst use The Christian armoury-enchantments.

CHRYSANTHUS. That thou hast alone the power To subdue the pains that wrack me, I admit it; but in what Thou hast said of Christian magic I, Daria, must deny it.

DARIA. How? from what cause else could happen The effects I just have witnessed?

CHRYSANTHUS. Miracles they are and marvels.

DARIA. Why do they affect not me?

CHRYSANTHUS. 'T is because I do not ask them Against thee; because from aiding Not myself, no aid is granted.

DARIA. Then I come here to undo them.

CHRYSANTHUS. Most severe will be the battle, Upon one side their due praises On the other side thy anger.

DARIA. I would have thee understand That our gods are sorely damaged By thy sentiments.

CHRYSANTHUS.
And I That those gods are false-mere phantoms.

DARIA. Then get ready for the conflict, For I will not lower my standard Save with victory or death.

CHRYSANTHUS. Though thou makest me thy captive, Thou my firmness wilt not conquer.

DARIA. Then to arms! I say, to arms, then!

CHRYSANTHUS. Though the outposts of the soul, The weak heart, by thee be captured; Not so will the Understanding, The strong warden who doth guard it.

DARIA. Thou 'lt believe me, if thou 'lt love me.

CHRYSANTHUS. Thou not me, 'till love attracts thee.

DARIA. That perhaps may be; for I Would not give thee this advantage.

CHRYSANTHUS. Oh! that love indeed may lead thee To a state so sweet and happy!

DARIA. Oh! what power will disabuse thee Of thy ignorance, Chrysanthus?

CHRYSANTHUS. Oh! what pitying power, Daria, Will the Christian faith impart thee?


ACT THE THIRD.


SCENE I.-The Garden of Polemius.


Enter POLEMIUS, AURELIUS, CLAUDIUS, and ESCARPIN.

POLEMIUS. All my house is in confusion, Full of terrors, full of horrors;[11] Ah! how true it is a son Is the source of many sorrows!-

CLAUDIUS. But, my lord, reflect . . .

ESCARPIN.
Consider . . . Think . . .

POLEMIUS.
Why think, when misery follows?- Cease: you add to my affliction, And in no way bring me solace. Since you see that in his madness He is now more firm and constant, Falling sick of new diseases, Ere he 's well of old disorders: Since one young and beauteous maiden, Whom love wished to him to proffer, Free from every spot and blemish, Pure and perfect in her fondness, Is the one whose fatal charms Give to him such grief and torment, That each moment he may perish, That he may expire each moment; How then can you hope that I Now shall list to words of comfort?-

CLAUDIUS. Why not give this beauteous maiden To your son to be his consort, Since you see his inclination?

POLEMIUS. For this reason: when the project I proposed, the two made answer, That before they wed, some problem, Some dispute that lay between them Should be settled: this seemed proper: But when I would know its nature I could not the cause discover. From this closeness I infer That some secret of importance Lies between them, and that this Is the source of all my sorrows.

AURELIUS. Sir, my loyalty, my duty Will not let me any longer Silence keep, too clearly seeing How the evil has passed onward. On that day we searched the mountain. . . .

POLEMIUS (aside). Woe is me! could he have known then All this time it was Chrysanthus?

AURELIUS. I approaching, where with shoulders Turned against me stood one figure, Saw the countenance of another, And methinks he was . . .

POLEMIUS (aside).
Ye gods! Yes, he saw him! help! support me!

AURELIUS. The same person who came hither Lately in the garb of a doctor, Who to-day to cure Chrysanthus Such unusual treatment orders. Do you ascertain if he Is Carpophorus; let no portent Fright you, on yourself rely, And you 'll find that all will prosper.

POLEMIUS. Thanks, Aurelius, for your warning, Though 't is somewhat tardily offered. Whether you are right or wrong, I to-day will solve the problem. For the sudden palpitation Of my heart that beats and throbbeth 'Gainst my breast, doth prove how true Are the suspicions that it fostered. And if so, then Rome will see Such examples made, such torments, That one