SCENES

FROM THE

MAGICO PRODIGIOSO OF CALDERON.

CYPRIAN as a Student; CLARIN and Moscon as poor Scholars, with books.

CYPRIAN.

IN the sweet solitude of this calm place,
This intricate wild wilderness of trees

And flowers and undergrowth of odorous plants,
Leave me; the books you brought out of the house
To me are ever best society.

And whilst with glorious festival and song
Antioch now celebrates the consecration
Of a proud temple to great Jupiter,

And bears his image in loud jubilee

To its new shrine, I would consume what still
Lives of the dying day, in studious thought,
Far from the throng and turmoil. You, my friends
Go and enjoy the festival; it will

Be worth the labour, and return for me

When the sun seeks its grave among the billows, Which among dim gray clouds on the horizon Dance like white plumes upon a hearse :—and here I shall expect you.

MOSCON.

I cannot bring my mind,

Great as my haste to see the festival

Certainly is, to leave you, Sir, without

Just saying some three or four hundred words.
How is it possible that on a day

Of such festivity, you can bring your mind
To come forth to a solitary country

With three or four old books, and turn your back
On all this mirth?

CLARIN.

My master's in the right;

There is not any thing more tiresome

Than a procession day, with troops of men,

And dances, and all that.

MOSCON.

From first to last,

Clarin, you are a temporizing flatterer;

You praise not what you feel, but what he does ; Toad-eater!

CLARIN.

You lie under a mistake-

For this is the most civil sort of lie

That can be given to a man's face. I now

Say what I think.

CYPRIAN.

Enough: you foolish fellows

Puffed up with your own doting ignorance

You always take the two sides of one question.
Now go, and as I said, return for me

When night falls, veiling in its shadows wide
This glorious fabric of the universe.

MOSCON.

How happens it, although you can maintain
The folly of enjoying festivals,

That yet you go there?

Livia is she who has surprised my heart;
But he is more than half way there.-Soho!
Livia, I come; good sport, Livia, soho!

[Exit

CYPRIAN.

Now since I am alone, let me examine

The question which has long disturbed my mind With doubt, since first I read in Plinius

The words of mystic import and deep sense

in which he defines God. My intellect

Can find no God with whom these marks and signs

Search even as thou wilt,

But thou shalt never find what I can hide.

CYPRIAN.

What noise is that among the boughs? Who

moves?

What art thou?

DÆMON.

'Tis a foreign gentleman.

Even from this morning I have lost my way
In this wild place, and my poor horse, at last
Quite overcome, has stretched himself upon
The enamelled tapestry of this mossy mountain,
And feeds and rests at the same time. I was
Upon my way to Antioch upon business
Of some importance, but wrapt up in cares
(Who is exempt from this inheritance?)

I parted from my company, and lost

My way, and lost my servants and my comrades

CYPRIAN.

"Tis singular, that, even within the sight

Of the high towers of Antioch, you could lose

Your way. Of all the avenues and green paths
Of this wild wood there is not one but leads,
As to its centre, to the walls of Antioch;

Take which you will you cannot miss your road.

DÆMON.

And such is ignorance! Even in the sight
Of knowledge it can draw no profit from it.
But, as it still is early, and as I
Have no acquaintances in Antioch,
Being a stranger there, I will even wait
The few surviving hours of the day,
Until the night shall conquer it. I see,
Both by your dress and by the books in which
You find delight and company, that you
Are a great student;—for my part, I feel
Much sympathy with such pursuits.