 | Scenes from the Magico Prodigioso |  |
Scene I.
—Enter Cyprian, dressed 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 while 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 your pains. You may 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 thousand words.
How is it possible that on a day
Of such festivity, you can be content
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 anything more tiresome
Than a procession day, with troops, and priests,
And dances, and all that.
Moscon.
From first to last,
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You praise not what you feel but what he does;—
Toadeater!
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?
Clarin.
Nay, the consequence
Is clear:—who ever did what he advises
Others to do?—
Moscon.
Would that my feet were wings,
So would I fly to Livia.
[Exit.
Clarin.
To speak truth,
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
Fitly agree. It is a hidden truth
Which I must fathom.
[Cyprian reads; the Daemon, dressed in a Court dress, enters.
Daemon.
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?—
Daemon.
'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 wrapped up in cares
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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.
Daemon.
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 in such pursuits.
Cyprian.
Have you
Studied much?
Daemon.
No,—and yet I know enough
Not to be wholly ignorant.
Cyprian.
Pray, Sir,
What science may you know?—
Daemon.
Many.
Cyprian.
Alas!
Much pains must we expend on one alone,
And even then attain it not;—but you
Have the presumption to assert that you
Know many without study.
Daemon.
And with truth.
For in the country whence I come the sciences
Require no learning,—they are known.
Cyprian.
Oh, would
I were of that bright country! for in this
The more we study, we the more discover
Our ignorance.
Daemon.
It is so true, that I
Had so much arrogance as to oppose
The chair of the most high Professorship,
And obtained many votes, and, though I lost,
The attempt was still more glorious, than the failure
Could be dishonourable. If you believe not,
Let us refer it to dispute respecting
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Know not the opinion you maintain, and though
It be the true one, I will take the contrary.
Cyprian.
The offer gives me pleasure. I am now
Debating with myself upon a passage
Of Plinius, and my mind is racked with doubt
To understand and know who is the God
Of whom he speaks.
Daemon.
It is a passage, if
I recollect it right, couched in these words:
‘God is one supreme goodness, one pure essence,
One substance, and one sense, all sight, all hands.’
Cyprian.
'Tis true.
Daemon.
What difficulty find you here?
Cyprian.
I do not recognize among the Gods
The God defined by Plinius; if he must
Be supreme goodness, even Jupiter
Is not supremely good; because we see
His deeds are evil, and his attributes
Tainted with mortal weakness; in what manner
Can supreme goodness be consistent with
The passions of humanity?
Daemon.
The wisdom
Of the old world masked with the names of Gods
The attributes of Nature and of Man;
A sort of popular philosophy.
Cyprian.
This reply will not satisfy me, for
Such awe is due to the high name of God
That ill should never be imputed. Then,
Examining the question with more care,
It follows, that the Gods would always will
That which is best, were they supremely good.
How then does one will one thing, one another?
And that you may not say that I allege
Poetical or philosophic learning:—
Consider the ambiguous responses
Of their oracular statues; from two shrines
Two armies shall obtain the assurance of
One victory. Is it not indisputable
That two contending wills can never lead
To the same end? And, being opposite,
If one be good, is not the other evil?
Evil in God is inconceivable;
But supreme goodness fails among the Gods
Without their union.
Daemon.
I deny your major.
These responses are means towards some end
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They are the work of Providence, and more
The battle's loss may profit those who lose,
Than victory advantage those who win.
Cyprian.
That I admit; and yet that God should not
(Falsehood is incompatible with deity)
Assure the victory; it would be enough
To have permitted the defeat. If God
Be all sight,—God, who had beheld the truth,
Would not have given assurance of an end
Never to be accomplished: thus, although
The Deity may according to his attributes
Be well distinguished into persons, yet
Even in the minutest circumstance
His essence must be one.
Daemon.
To attain the end
The affections of the actors in the scene
Must have been thus influenced by his voice.
Cyprian.
But for a purpose thus subordinate
He might have employed Genii, good or evil,—
A sort of spirits called so by the learned,
Who roam about inspiring good or evil,
And from whose influence and existence we
May well infer our immortality.
Thus God might easily, without descent
To a gross falsehood in his proper person,
Have moved the affections by this mediation
To the just point.
Daemon.
These trifling contradictions
Do not suffice to impugn the unity
Of the high Gods; in things of great importance
They still appear unanimous; consider
That glorious fabric, man,—his workmanship
Is stamped with one conception.
Cyprian.
Who made man
Must have, methinks, the advantage of the others.
If they are equal, might they not have risen
In opposition to the work, and being
All hands, according to our author here,
Have still destroyed even as the other made?
If equal in their power, unequal only
In opportunity, which of the two
Will remain conqueror?
Daemon.
On impossible
And false hypothesis there can be built
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From this?
Cyprian.
That there must be a mighty God
Of supreme goodness and of highest grace,
All sight, all hands, all truth, infallible,
Without an equal and without a rival,
The cause of all things and the effect of nothing,
One power, one will, one substance, and one essence.
And, in whatever persons, one or two;
His attributes may be distinguished, one
Sovereign power, one solitary essence,
One cause of all cause.
[They rise.
Daemon.
How can I impugn
So clear a consequence?
Cyprian.
Do you regret
My victory?
Daemon.
Who but regrets a check
In rivalry of wit? I could reply
And urge new difficulties, but will now
Depart, for I hear steps of men approaching,
And it is time that I should now pursue
My journey to the city.
Cyprian.
Go in peace!
Daemon.
Remain in peace!—Since thus it profits him
To study, I will wrap his senses up
In sweet oblivion of all thought but of
A piece of excellent beauty; and, as I
Have power given me to wage enmity
Against Justina's soul, I will extract
From one effect two vengeances.
[Aside and exit.
Cyprian.
I never
Met a more learnèd person. Let me now
Revolve this doubt again with careful mind.
[He reads.
Floro and Lelio enter.
Lelio.
Here stop. These toppling rocks and tangled boughs,
Impenetrable by the noonday beam,
Shall be sole witnesses of what we—
Floro.
Draw!
If there were words, here is the place for deeds.
Lelio.
Thou needest not instruct me; well I know
That in the field, the silent tongue of steel
Speaks thus,—
[They fight.
Cyprian.
Ha! what is this? Lelio,—Floro,
Be it enough that Cyprian stands between you,
Although unarmed.
Lelio.
Whence comest thou, to stand
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Floro.
From what rocks
And desert cells?
Enter Moscon and Clarin.
Moscon.
Run! run! for where we left
My master, I now hear the clash of swords.
Clarin.
I never run to approach things of this sort,
But only to avoid them. Sir! Cyprian! sir!
Cyprian.
Be silent, fellows! What! two friends who are
In blood and fame the eyes and hope of Antioch,
One of the noble race of the Colalti,
The other son o' the Governor, adventure
And cast away, on some slight cause no doubt,
Two lives, the honour of their country?
Lelio.
Cyprian!
Although my high respect towards your person
Holds now my sword suspended, thou canst not
Restore it to the slumber of the scabbard:
Thou knowest more of science than the duel;
For when two men of honour take the field,
No counsel nor respect can make them friends
But one must die in the dispute.
Floro.
I pray
That you depart hence with your people, and
Leave us to finish what we have begun
Without advantage.—
Cyprian.
Though you may imagine
That I know little of the laws of duel,
Which vanity and valour instituted,
You are in error. By my birth I am
Held no less than yourselves to know the limits
Of honour and of infamy, nor has study
Quenched the free spirit which first ordered them;
And thus to me, as one well experienced
In the false quicksands of the sea of honour,
You may refer the merits of the case;
And if I should perceive in your relation
That either has the right to satisfaction
From the other, I give you my word of honour
To leave you.
Lelio.
Under this condition then
I will relate the cause, and you will cede
And must confess the impossibility
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Beloved by Floro and myself.
Floro.
It seems
Much to me that the light of day should look
Upon that idol of my heart—but he—
Leave us to fight, according to thy word.
Cyprian.
Permit one question further: is the lady
Impossible to hope or not?
Lelio.
She is
So excellent, that if the light of day
Should excite Floro's jealousy, it were
Without just cause, for even the light of day
Trembles to gaze on her.
Cyprian.
Would you for your
Part, marry her?
Flora.
Such is my confidence.
Cyprian.
And you?
Lelio.
Oh! would that I could lift my hope
So high, for though she is extremely poor,
Her virtue is her dowry.
Cyprian.
And if you both
Would marry her, is it not weak and vain,
Culpable and unworthy, thus beforehand
To slur her honour? What would the world say
If one should slay the other, and if she
Should afterwards espouse the murderer?
[The rivals agree to refer their quarrel to Cyprian; who in consequence visits Justina, and becomes enamoured of her; she disdains him, and he retires to a solitary sea-shore.
| Scenes from the Magico Prodigioso | |