Trembled at such idle terrors !
And since courage cannot think them
Real, let me, once for all,
Sift the mystery to the bottom.
Woman, be you what you may-
(For you never shall persuade me
You are aught but woman)-listen!-
I'm resolved, by Heaven, to know
Who you are-and how you enter'd
Here with what design and wherefore;
I will not wait till to-morrow.
Let this boon to-night be granted.
Are you demon, speak as demon!
Are you woman, speak as woman!
Think not threats would ever make me
Shrink or tremble, though you really
Were a demon; but I know
That, since you too wear a body
Like myself, you are no demon,
But a woman.
Cosm. (aside.) Much the same!
D. Ang. Do not touch me, lest you mar
Now methinks Even the devil speaks discreetly. Do not touch her, since she is
Neither harp, nor lute, nor rebeck.
D. Man. If you be a spirit, now With my sword I'll make the trial; Since, although the steel should pierce you, Spirits feel no injury.
D. Ang. Woe is me! Arrest your weapon,
O! arrest your bloody arm;
Pity 'twere with death to visit
An unhappy woman's error:-
For I own that such am I.
Love may be a crime, but surely
Scarce so deadly as to merit
Evil death for loving well.
Stain not señor, then, nor darken.
With my blood the silver shining
Of your sword.
D. Man, Speak, then, who art thou ?
D. Ang. Ah! perforce it must be spoken,
Since I cannot hope to bring,
As I thought, to its conclusion
This attachment, this devotion,
This fidelity and truth.
But we stand even now in danger
(Should they hear us, should they see us)
Of our lives: for I am more
Than you see or can conjecture.
Then 'tis needful to secure us
'Gainst the risk of interruption.
Señor, you must close that entrance,
And the outer door beside,
That no light may be detected
Should intruders come to pry
Who is here.
D. Man. The light here, Cosme,
Till we close the door. You see
'Tis a woman, and no goblin!
Cosm. Oh, no doubt-I always said so!
[DON MANUEL and COSME go out to close the door.
D. Ang. (alone.) From that side, then, I'm imprison'd
Now, the truth, O Heavens! must out,
Since by Isabel I'm left
In the lurch here, and the stranger
Isab. (appearing at the secret door.) Hist, hist, señora!
Haste, your brother asks for you.
D. Ang. Happy chance! the cabinet
Moves again. O love! I thank thee,
Still unsolved I leave the riddle.
[Exeunt through the secret door-the cabinet is again pushed
Re-enter DON MANUEL and COSME with a light.
D. Man. All the doors are closed, señora,
Now you may proceed in safety
With your tale. - But what is this?
By the door she could not vanish.
D. Man. How then did she vanish? - Answer?
Cosm. That I can't. But this is plain,
Just as I have always said,
'Tis the devil, and no woman!
D. Man. (examining the room.) Now, by Heaven! I will
All the chamber, to discover
If, perchance, behind these pictures
Any where the wall is hollow'd;
If these tapestries conceal
Any lurking-place :-I'll rifle
Every cranny in the cieling.
Cosm. There is nothing here to rummage
Is she;-nor need that surprise us;
For if woman plays the devil
All the year through, 'tis but fair
That the devil should once for all
In requital play the woman.
The third act opens in the chamber of Dona Angela. It is night. Isabel enters, leading in Don Manuel in the dark, directing him to await there the arrival of his mistress: and retires, locking the door behind her. Don Manuel, in a short soliloquy, retraces the way in which he had been brought thither. On his return from the Escurial he had found a letter from his secret visiter, directing him to repair at night to St Sebastian's churchyard, and to follow where two men, whom he would find on the spot, should conduct him in a litter. He had obeyed the summons, and, under their escort, had been introduced into the apartment where he now stands, awaiting with intense curiosity, and something of alarm, the issue of the adventure. Of course he has not the
most distant idea that he is in the
mansion of Don Juan, and within a
few feet of his own apartment-a cir-
cumstance which tends most ingeni-
ously to increase the confusion, when,
in the course of the next scene, he is
introduced in the dark into another
room, and finds himself in his own
chamber, which he had believed to be
far off. After some delay, the door
on the right of the room opens. Ser-
vants bring in lights. Several women
enter, bearing napkins and refresh-
ments, and courtesying to Don Manuel
as they pass. After them appears Do-
na Angela, splendidly dressed; and
lastly, Beatrice and Isabel.
others retire toward the background.
Angela, advancing towards Don Man-
uel, accosts him-
Doubtless you are weary, señor,
Waiting for me?
He that watches for Aurora,
Knows that his anxiety
Must in shadows buried lie
Till the cold dark night give way;
So the torment of delay,
Turn'd to pleasure, from th' assurance
That, the longer night's endurance,
Still the nearer drew the day.
Yet 'twas needless that the night
In its prison first should bind me
That your beauty's sun might blind me,
As with morn it rose more bright ;-
For to make your sovereign light
Its resplendent beams display,
Needed not the cheerless night,
Pall'd in shadows cold and dun,
For thou art thyself the day,
Day that dawns without a sun.
Lady, when the night's withdrawn,
First on high a glimmer brightens,
'Tis the gentle smile of dawn,
Gilding not, though it enlightens.
On the dawn next creeps the morn,
And its clear cold ray illumes,
Gilds, but warms not. Morn, in turn,
Fades, and from his crimson throne
Flames the sun, and he alone
Gilds, illumines, and consumes.
Dawn derives its feeble beam
From the darkness it succeeded,
And, to make the morning seem
Bright, the doubtful dawn was needed ;-
As the peerless sun exceeded
Dawning's glimmer, morning's ray,
You eclipse the sun: I say
Needless, therefore, was the night,
Since your sun succeeds the light
Of the sun that pales the day.
D. Ang. Grateful though I may remain
For this stretch of courtesy,
Yet with cause I must complain
Of such flattering injury.
This, in sooth, is not the sphere
Where the pomp of words refined
Should be wasted on the wind;
'Tis a homely dwelling here,
Where the finer turned the phrase
More suspicious sounds the praise.
I am not the dawn. It wears
Smiles, which my sad aspect knows not-
Not the morning, since my tears
To your eye my grief disclose not-
Not the sun, that dares display
Perfect truth unto the day.
What I am, conceal'd must sleep;
But of these, at least, I'm none,
Dawning, morning, nor the sun,
Since I shine not, smile, nor weep.
Then I pray Don Manuel will
Say and think but this of me,
Woman am I, woman still
Have I been ;-whom love of thee
Leads to this extremity.
D. Man. Slight must such extreme appear,
Since although admitted here,
I, methinks, have reason good
For complaint, not gratitude;
And I do complain, I own
D. Ang. You complain of me !
D. Man.
Since you trust me not to know
Nay, that alone
Do not ask me. For to none
May my lips my name repeat.
If you wish to visit me,
This must the condition be;-
That you know not whom you meet,
That you ask not who is she!
I must ever be for thee
NO. CCXCI. VOL, XLVII,
As a riddle, as a dream;
What I am I may not seem,
What I seem I may not be.
While involved in mystery
You may see me: I may see
You again: should you discover
Who I am, perchance the lover
Might too soon forget his flame,
While my love remain'd the same.
As the pencil can invent
Forms that vary with the light,
And on different sides present
Different portraits to the sight,
So the painter Love unites
In my form two different lights;
Seen beneath the one, I seem
Fair and worthy your esteem;
Seen beneath another clothing,
Liking might be turn'd to lothing;
One mistake I must discover-
That Don Luis was my lover;
And to that I answer no-
I will swear it was not so.
This promising conversation is interrupted by a loud knocking at the middle door of the room, and by the voice of Don Juan, who comes to enquire whether Beatrice has yet returned to her own house. Beatrice hastily makes her escape through the door on the right: Isabel hurries Don Manuel out by the door on the right leading to the cabinet, while Don Juan enters by the middle door. He is at first surprised to find Angela in full dress; but his suspicions are allayed by her apology, that, with a woman's love for dress, she had put on her festive apparel as an amusement to divert her solitude. And after being told that Beatrice had already left the house for her own mansion, he retires, announcing his intention of paying her a visit there before she retired to rest. The scene then changes to the apartments of Don Manuel. Isabel and Don Manuel enter in the dark, through the secret door.
Isab. Here you must remain, and make
No disturbance that they may not
Hear you.
Don Man. I shall be a statue.
Isab. Now, Heaven grant I may be able
In my fright to find the door!
D. Man. Heaven! how perilous his daring
Who thus enters to a mansion,
Knowing nothing, learning nothing!
What mischances hover near him!
What mysterious risks surround him!
Here am I within the house
Of some noble-titled lady,
At the least "Her Excellency,"
Wrapt in gloom and nightly terrors,
And so far from my abode.
Ha! What noise was that? Some door
Leading to the room, methinks,
Must be opening: -Some one enters.
[COSME enters in the dark.
Cosm. Well, thank Heaven! to-night for once
I can enter this apartment
Freely, and without alarm,
Though without a light I enter;
Since our Lady Goblin has
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