University of Virginia Library

Scene V.

The garden under Alvaro's castle.—A large grated door in the centre.—Enter Prince, Juan, Leonelo, and Belardo.
Prince
(to Belardo).

You know your office; take this
diamond by way of thanks.

Bel.

I know little of diamonds but that they sell for less
than you give for them. But this [to Juan]
is to be your post.

Juan.

I am ready.

Prince.

Remember, Spaniard, it is for me you run this
hazard, if there be any; I shall be close at hand to protect
you. Be not frightened.

Juan.

Your Highness does not know me: were it otherwise,
danger cannot well appal him whom sorrows like
mine have left alive.

Bel.

And, another time—dobloons, not diamonds.
[Exeunt Prince and Leonelo.
Here the mostly comes of an evening, poor lady, to soothe
herself, walking and sitting here by the hour together.
This is where you are to be. Go in; and mind you make
no noise.

[Puts Juan into the grated door, and locks it.
Juan
(through the grated window).

But what are you
about?

Bel.
Locking the door to make all sure.

Juan.
But had it not better be unlockt in case—

Bel.
Hush! she comes.

Juan.
My palette then.

Enter Serafina.
Ser.
How often and how often do I draw
My resolution out upon one side,
And all my armed sorrows on the other,
To fight the self-same battle o'er again!

Juan.
He stands in the way; I cannot see her face.

Bel.
Still weeping, madam?

Ser.
Wonder not, Belardo:
The only balm I have. You pity me:
Leave me alone then for a while, Belardo;
The breeze that creeps along the whispering trees
Makes me feel drowsy.

Juan
(to Belardo whispering).
She turns her head away,
I cannot see her still.

Ser.
What noise was that?

Bel.
Madam?

Ser.
I thought I heard a whisper.

Bel.
Only
The breeze, I think. If you would turn this way,
I think 'twould blow upon you cooler.

Ser.
Perhaps it will.
Thank you. I am very miserable and very weary.

Bel.
She sleeps: that is the lady.
Make most of time.

[Exit.
Juan.
Yes. Now then for my pencil.
Serafina! found at last! Whose place is this?
The Prince? no! But the stray'd lamb being here,
The wolf is not far off. She sleeps! I thought
The guilty never slept: and look some tears
Still lingering on the white rose of her cheek.
Be those the drops, I wonder,
Of guilty anguish, or of chaste despair?
This death-like image is the sculptor's task,
Not mine.
Or is it I who sleep, and dream all this,
And dream beside, that once before I tried
To paint that face—the daylight drawing in
As now—and when somehow the lamp was out,
A man—I fail'd: and what love fail'd to do,
Shall hate accomplish? She said then, if ever
She suffer'd me to draw her face again,
Might she die for it. Into its inmost depth
Heav'n drew that idle word, and it returns
In thunder.

Ser.
(dreaming).
Juan! Husband! on my knees.
Oh Juan—slay me not!
Enter Alvaro; she wakes and rushes to him.
Alvaro,
Save me, oh save me from him!

Alv.
So the wretch
Thrives by another's wretchedness. My love!

Juan.
Alvaro, by the heavens!

Alv.
Calm yourself;
You must withdraw awhile. Come in with me.

Juan.
Villain!

Ser.
(clinging to Alvaro).
What's that!

Juan.
(shaking at the door).
The door is fast;
Open it, I say!—
Then die—thou and thy paramour!

[Shoots a pistol at each through the grating.—Both fall: Serafina into the arms of Belardo, who has come in during the noise.—Then directly enter Don Luis, Pedro, Porcia.
Luis.
What noise is this?

Ser.
My father!—in your arms.
To die;—not by your hand—Forgive me—Oh!

[Dies.
Ped.
(taking her in his arms).
My Serafina!

Luis.
And Alvaro!

Alv.
Ay,
But do not curse me now!

[Dies.
Enter the Prince and Leonelo.
Leon.
They must have found him out.

Prince.
Whoever dares
Molest him, answers it to me. Open the door.
But what is this?

[Belardo unlocks the door.
Juan
(coming out).
A picture—
Done by the Painter of his own Dishonour
In blood.
I am Don Juan Roca. Such revenge
As each would have of me, now let him take,
As far as one life holds. Don Pedro, who
Gave me that lovely creature for a bride,
And I return to him a bloody corpse;
Don Luis, who beholds his bosom's son
Slain by his bosom friend; and you, my lord,
Who, for your favours, might expect a piece
In some far other style of art than this:
Deal with me as you list; 'twill be a mercy
To swell this complement of death with mine;
For all I had to do is done, and life
Is worse than nothing now.

Prince.
Get you to horse,
And leave the wind behind you.

Luis.
Nay, my lord,
Whom should he fly from? not from me at least,
Who lov'd his honour as my own, and would
Myself have help'd him in a just revenge,
Ev'n on an only son.

Ped.
I cannot speak,
But I bow down these miserable gray hairs
To other arbitration than the sword;
Ev'n to your Highness' justice.

Prince.
Be it so.
Meanwhile—

Juan.
Meanwhile, my lord, let me depart;
Free, if you will, or not. But let me go,
Nor wound these fathers with the sight of one,
Who has cut off the blossom of their age:
Yea, and his own, more miserable than all.
They know me; that I am a gentleman,
Not cruel, nor without what seem'd due cause
Put on this bloody business of my honour;
Which having done, I will be answerable
Here and elsewhere, to all for all.

Prince.
Depart
In peace.

Juan.
In peace! Come, Leonelo.

[He goes out slowly, followed by Leonelo: and the curtain falls.