University of Virginia Library

ACT I.

SCENE I.

Interior of the Ducal Palace at Barcelona. Second room at back seen through an archway. Don Cæsar is seated in first room lost in thought. Perin watches him from inner room, then advances some steps.
Perin.
[Aside.]
Again alone, and lost in reverie—
Sad reverie too, if looks reveal the heart!
'Tis even as I guessed: he is in love.
[Don Cæsar sighs.
There was a sigh. Poor prince, he's touched indeed!
I must have pity on him. I, who probe
His malady so well, may find its cure.

Don C.
[Apart.]
A being like herself! The fair outside
Of woman, but without a woman's heart—
She to enslave me! 'Tis intolerable.

Perin.
[Aside.]
Yes, 'tis of her whose beauty, cold as stone,
Attracts from all the love she but disdains—
'Tis of Diana that he speaks. [Comes forward.]
Good day,
Most noble prince.

Don C.
[Who starts perplexed.]
Who's there?

Perin.
If I intrude,
Forgive me.

Don C.
[Rousing himself.]
Perin! You're my countryman,
And always welcome.

Perin.
You greet me cheerfully; a minute since
I hardly thought you gay. But this is well;
You can control yourself, and mask your heart.

Don C.
What do you mean? I scarcely understand you.

Perin.
Think twice, my lord, ere you evade me. Trouble
That's told finds outlet, and, it may be, help;
Will you confide in me? May I presume
To say that you are—

[Hesitates.
Don C.
Perin, what?

Perin.
In love.

Don C.
In love!

Perin.
If I have eyes, if plain effects denote
Their cause, and if where smoke is must be fire,
I say you are in love.

Don C.
[Eagerly.]
Have you been sent
On a commission to me? Speak!

Perin.
On none
Save that which my heart dictates. To be brief,
I love you well—a gallant prince, nor less
Courteous than brave, and my dear countryman.
Follow my counsel, and the goal you seek
With fainting steps itself will come to meet you.

Don C.
[After a pause, taking his hand confidingly.]
Perin, I trust you.

Perin.
[After looking cautiously round.]
'Tis conceded, then,
That you're in love. With whom? Fenisa? Laura?
No, no; 'tis with Diana, the duke's daughter,
And heiress of this realm. Well, well, my prince,
You share the fate of all men who behold
That beauteous petrifaction.

Don C.
'Tis enchantment,
'Tis sorcery—this pride of hers that charms
Even while it wounds. I would resist, but cannot.

Perin.
Pride can work wonders, sir. Of that anon.
But tell me, have you loved her long? How chanced it?

Don C.
The rumour of Diana's singular
Contempt of men, and of her father's wish
That she should marry, reached me in my home.
My cousins, the Count de Foix and the Prince of Béarne,
Eager to win this prize, would oft discuss
Their chances at my father's court. I, heedless,
Heard them at first, but, won by their persuasions,
And curious to see this fair disdain,
Came with them hither to the tournament.
I saw Diana, and remained unmoved.
True, she was fair, but though her mien was noble,
It still repelled. My friend, I loved not then.
Ere long the tournament began, and Fortune
Smiled on my lance. Mine was the victor's lot
In every conflict, mine the name the crowd
Hailed with their shouts. Curious, I raised my eyes
To where Diana, 'midst her ladies, sat,
And then methought that even in her face
Shone the approval beauty deigns to valour.
Mark, that was the beginning.

Perin.
Good, I note you.

Don C.
A moment, and the bright look fled, replaced
By chill indifference. Her coldness spurred me
To further prowess. I performed that day
Feats that surprised myself. From all the throng
Loud acclamations burst, till Echo's self
Pealed back and swelled them. But amidst this homage
Still colder grew Diana's look. She sat,
As might a statue in the din of crowds,
Severe, immovable, but how majestic!
At length her eye met mine, and my fixed gaze
She answered with a look of utter scorn,
As though she had demeaned herself to mark
The pigmy deeds of men. I left the lists
Incensed, confounded, but by some strange magic
Enthralled past cure, and from that day to this
Have been no more Don Cæsar.

Perin.
'Twas her pride, then,
That woke your love.

Don C.
It was; my heart's a riddle!
What should repel attracts; because her foot
Spurns me, I kneel to kiss it; yes, her scorn,
That ought to freeze me, kindles in my heart
A fire of love—I say a very fire,
That, spite of shame and reason, still consumes me.

Perin.
Highly poetical! But, in plain terms,
You're like the rest. The thing you have you prize not;
The thing you cannot have, you therefore prize.
It is unlucky, though, that you have set
Your heart upon a statue. Better far
Your choice had lit upon the lady's cousin,
Donna Fenisa—ay, or Laura. Both
Are fair and amiable, flesh and blood,
And find the world the pleasanter for men,
Whose presence here Diana thinks the grand
Mistake of Nature.

Don C.
Name her with respect.

Perin.
She is my gracious mistress, but still
I may lament the flaw in her which mars
What else were perfect. 'Tis said that in her girlhood
Two princes wooed her. Policy, not love,
Inspired their suit. With insight past her years
She read their selfish aims, and thus conceived
Contempt for all our sex. Now so extreme
This mood has grown, she shuns, when possible,
The sight of us; love-songs are discord to her;
The pictures on her walls show Beauty flying
Our loathed pursuit. 'Tis thus she spites the men,
And of the women she would make Medusas
Like to herself.

Don C.
What can be hoped then?

Perin.
Much.
She's still a woman: women love to please.

Don C.
But she despises homage.

Perin.
Yes, because
She surfeits on it. Prince, be ruled by me;
Withhold from her the tribute others pay,
Deny that food of praise which palls on her
From its abundance. Keep her fasting, sir,
Until she feels a woman's natural hunger:—
That's love for man.

Don C.
[Surprised.]
Perin!

Perin.
Think how you fared.
Her pride subdued you. Be more proud than she,
And conquer her.

Don C.
Proud, when I love!

Perin.
The more
You merit hiding love.

Don C.
I cannot hide it.

Perin.
Then give her up.

Don C.
I cannot give her up.

Perin.
You're very reasonable.

[Ironically.
Don C.
What must I do?

Perin.
I have already said—
Be prudent, self-possessed, above all—cold.

Don C.
Cold! cold to her!

Perin.
It is your only chance.

Don C.
[After a pause of reflection.]
I half believe it.—
Come, then; I'll make the effort, though it rend me.

Perin.
I shall be near to aid. But mark me, prince,
Let none suspect that I'm in league with you.
At court here I am held a woman-hater,
A boor, a foe to wedlock, and, in short,
A convert to my lady's creed. 'Twas thus,
When first I came here a poor gentleman,
I won her smiles, became her secretary.

Don C.
[Archly.]
Thou art a rogue.

Perin.
Say, sir, a politician.
And yet, 'tis droll. There's here a little wretch,
By name Floretta. Prince, she dotes on me,
For no cause save the surliness I feign.
There's hope again for you. At times her lip,
So ripe and pouting, and her roguish eye,
Tempt me to hug her, but then Prudence cries—
Caution!—and I mask fondness still with rudeness.
Follow my cue, and—stay, here come the duke
And your two cousins. Courage now; remember
Your game's indifference. Thus alone you win.

Don C.
I am resolved: now let the game begin.

Enter Don Diego, Don Luis, and Don Gaston. Perin is seen from time to time listening in the background.
Don D.
With sorrow, princes, I confess the slight
Put on you by my daughter. I fondly hoped,
Both for my people's good and for her own,
That she would choose at last some worthy spouse;
Yet she's inflexible, and but this day
Avowed to me she'd meet the embrace of Death
Rather than brook a husband's.

Don L.
Sir, despair not;
Her strange delusion cannot long endure.

Don G.
[Complacently.]
Impossible, let me but speak with her.

Don D.
I dare not give you hope. Methinks 'twere well,
Though eight days of the tournament remain,
That it were closed at once.

Don L.
Not so, my lord:
I came to win your daughter. In eight days
I with a scanty band have stormed a fort.
Are women more impregnable than forts?

Don D.
Yes, sir; a fort yields to the assailer's will,
A woman must be taken with her own.

Don C.
[With assumed indifference.]
I grant, great duke, 'twas rather chance than love
That brought me here; yet courtesy compels me
To stay the appointed time.

Don D.
So be it then.
The games shall still proceed. The boon you seek
My daughter will oppose, but 'tis your due,
And shall be granted.

Don G.
Thanks, sir. [Aside.]
How I long
For the sweet war of words. The enemy
Who braves my sword is safer than the woman
Who braves my tongue.

Don D.
I'll now prepare the princess
For your approach, and shortly summon you.

Don L.
A thousand thanks, your highness.

[Duke goes out.
Don G.
We've gained the outworks: now for the assault
Upon the citadel. [To Don Cæsar.]
You're silent, cousin,
Does your heart fail?

Don C.
[Carelessly.]
Why should it fail? I'm with you,
But 'tis the sport of the adventure tempts me;
I care not for the prize.

Don G.
And she that prize!
Not care for her—the peerless, proud Diana!
Then, man, thy youth is but a dress to hide
A grey-beard's heart. 'Tis snow that fills thy veins;
Thy sharp breath chills me, and I catch the ague
Even while I talk. Come, Luis, I must needs
Bask in the sun to warm me. Farewell, stoic!
[Apart to Don Luis.]
Let us discuss our plans. On one of us
Her choice must fall. [Aside.]
And if she be not blind,
I know on whom. [To Don Cæsar.]
Adieu, my patriarch!

[Goes out, laughing, with Don Luis.
Don C.
O happy moth, that flutters round the light
Unconscious of his danger! I alone
Know what attracts me fatal. I shall see her—
See the exalted look, the noble gestures
That mark her separate—single 'mid her kind.
Hope fails; my brain's bewildered. How behold her
And feign indifference? From such a struggle
What can I gain?

Perin.
[Hurrying forward.]
Gain! why, a wayward woman,
And Barcelona's throne. All will work well
If you resolve it shall. Believe and conquer.
No doubtful dallying. To the princess straight!

Don C.
Ah, friend, you do not feel!

Perin.
No more must you;
At least not yet. Keep down your feelings, prince,
As soldiers on forced marches keep down hunger.
The fight won, they may eat and you may feel.
Till then be cold—cold till, benumbed by frost,
She begs for fire!

Don C.
Perin, thy words revive me.
No more I falter. Victory's happy chance
Lies by one path. I take it, and advance.

[They go out.

SCENE II.

Drawing-room of Princess Diana.
Donna Diana, Donna Fenisa, Donna Laura, seated; the two former engaged in embroidery, the last with a book.
Donna D.
Read on, dear Laura.

Donna L.
[Reading.]
With love's fierce heat Apollo Daphne woos,
Yet cannot melt her scorn, though god of light;
Colder she flies as quicker he pursues,
Till, lo! the laurel hides her from his sight.

Donna D.
'Tis well expressed.

Donna L.
I think the style affected.

Donna D.
Exalted, rather, as befits the theme.
Read on.

Donna L.
[Reading.]
A noble heart doth vulgar bents despise,
Rocklike it sees the waves of passion beat;
In proud repose it doth itself suffice,
And spurns love's vain illusion and deceit.

Donna D.
'Tis excellent.

Donna F.
But still—

Donna D.
Still what?

Donna F.
'Tis hard
That we must hate love ere we know its name.

Donna D.
Would you be burnt before you shun the fire?

Donna F.
I'd run the risk; the danger might be great,
But not so great as—

[Hesitates.
Donna D.
[Sternly.]
Well?

Donna F.
As the enjoyment.

Donna L.
[Aside.]
Imprudent girl! This to her face!

Donna D.
[Rising and speaking sternly.]
Fenisa,
Reflect another time to whom you speak.
Rule your tongue better, girl, or else be silent:
If not, avoid my presence. Make your choice.
Enter Perin.
You, Perin?

Perin.
How! your highness is displeased?

Donna D.
Displeased, sir, and alarmed.

Perin.
O, wherefore?

Donna D.
Ask not.

Perin.
[To Fenisa and Laura.]
Speak, ladies!
What has thus vexed my mistress?

Donna L.
O, a word—
An idle word dropped by my sister here.

Perin.
What word?

Donna L.
[With assumed timidity.]
She talked of love.

Perin.
[Pretending to be shocked.]
Of love! Is it possible?
But not in praise of it?

Donna D.
In praise of it;
And in broad daylight, Perin.

Perin.
I'm amazed!
Could she so far forget herself? Forgive me
If I presume; the very name of love
Throws me into a fever.

Donna F.
I but said
What I must think,—that we should prove love evil
Ere we condemn it.

Donna D.
Foolish child, be warned
By others' punishment, and so escape
The scourge yourself. Twice was I sought in wedlock
When a mere girl. What vows, what flatteries
My suitors lavished! Had these counterfeits
Been genuine coin, their tongues had squandered on me
Whole mines of love. But then a question rose—
A mere chance question—What would be my dowry?
So many thousand ducats? Less by half,
My father said. Then vanished suitor one;
The next assumed—('twas by mere accident
He named the trifle)—that our Barcelona
Would in his quarrels fight or just or unjust?
No, said my father. Straight my second suitor
Fled like the first. To these men what was I?
A human soul, quick with the breath of heaven?
No; a mere title-deed to wealth and power—
A poor appendage to the goods of fortune,
Which should have been appendages to me.

Donna L.
They wronged you much.

Donna D.
They served me. From the first
I saw their aims. They but confirmed in me
The love I felt before for single life,
And all the charms of high philosophy.

Enter Floretta hurriedly.
Flo.
Your father, lady, with the princes comes.

Donna D.
[Aside.]
What! with the princes? Though he threatened this,
I scarce believed him.

Donna F.
[To Floretta.]
So Don Gaston comes?

Flo.
Yes.

Donna L.
And Don Luis?

Flo.
With Don Cæsar, too!

Donna D.
[To Perin.]
Am I to be invaded thus—deprived
Of privacy and freedom—doomed, perhaps,
To hateful marriage!

Perin.
Princess, none would dare
To force your hand. They do but mean to reason.
Submit, then. Can their puny arguments
Shake in an hour your firm philosophy,
The work of years? O, fear not.

Donna D.
[Who, after taking a few steps in meditation, returns.]
Let them come,
And learn whom they assail.

[She sits by the table, takes a book and reads. Her air is resolute and noble.
Donna L.
[Apart to Fenisa.]
We soon shall see
Don Luis, then; he has a noble bearing.

Donna F.
None of the three would come amiss to me.

Flo.
[Aside to Perin, pleasantly.]
Good morning, Perin.

Perin.
[Sharply.]
You've said that before,
To-day.

Flo.
What then?

Perin.
There's no need to repeat it.

Flo.
Why should you be so sullen? While the princes
Engage our mistress, take a turn with me.

Perin.
A turn with you! For what?

Flo.
For cheerful gossip.
We're all so silent here, I soon shall lose
The use of speech.

Perin.
Pray that you may, for then
You'll be endurable.

Flo.
You wretch! you bear!

[Goes out indignantly.
Perin.
How charming is she! Bear's an ugly name;
But on that rosy mouth abuse itself
Should be stopped but with kisses. If I dared—
But no; beneath the rule of our strict goddess,
A kiss were sacrilege. Well, patience! patience!
I have a score against her. She shall pay it.

[Goes out, with a grimace at Donna Diana.
Enter Don Diego.
Don D.
[At door.]
Princes, this way.

[The Princes enter, one after the other, Don Cæsar last. Donna Diana rises to meet her father. The Princes make a low bow to Donna Diana and her Cousins, which all the ladies return. Donna Diana, however, bows but slightly, then averts her face.
Don C.
[Aside, with evident emotion.]
Enchantress! Can I gaze
Upon her and dissemble?

Don D.
Daughter!

Donna D.
Sir,
I wait your pleasure.

Don D.
'Tis that you receive
These princes with due hospitality.
My honoured guests, with reason they complain
That you avoid them.

Donna D.
Father, to the point.
Let me say briefly this—my will to yours
Must be subservient. I recoil from marriage
More than from death. But as you gave me life,
'Tis yours to take. Determine as you please.

Don D.
You misconceive me, child. 'Tis not of marriage
I speak. Love must be free, but courtesy
Is due to all. Explain, then, to the princes
That your philosophy—not pride—impels you
To shun their suit. Maintain your strange opinions
With suavity and reason. Of my daughter
I ask no more: she cannot grant me less.

[Goes out.
Donna D.
[After a pause.]
Speak, gentlemen, what is it you require?

Don L.
Princess, your confidence. If none among us
May win your love, then teach us by what arts
Love may be conquered.

[Diana signs gravely to them to be seated, and sits down.
Don G.
Say for what transgression
Is poor love driven from paradise—thy breast.
Looking on thee, it seems unnatural;
And, wouldst thou look on us and weigh our merits,
'Twould seem impossible.

[Diana listens with an amused expression, which at length changes to contempt.
Don C.
I, too, would hear
Your reasons, princess, though I half incline
Already to your cause. I love my freedom,
And you may soon persuade me, should you deign,
To think a single life the best of fates.

[Diana becomes attentive, looks at him with some little astonishment, then turns her head quickly away.
Donna F.
[Apart to Laura.]
How liked you that?

Donna L.
[Apart to Fenisa.]
Amazingly; he's proud,
And therefore dangerous.

Don G.
Silence for the princess.

Donna D.
[With grave dignity.]
Since I must speak,
I'll nothing hide. First, think how short is life.
What are life's worthy aims? You'll tell me—Virtue,
Wisdom, the general good. Now, if I ask
The sages and all history what most
Wars with these aims, they answer, that poor weakness
Born of the senses—love; that childish impulse
Which children make a god. Seen in itself,
Love moves my laughter, seen in its effects,
Mirth becomes terror. What has love made man?
A tyrant. And what woman? Why, a slave.
Add to all this the vices that beset
The path of love, as flattery, deceit,
Strife, jealousy, revenge, and can you wonder
That I recoil?
[A short pause.
My name's Diana, and my blood is royal.
I would be worthy both. Know, therefore, princes,
That love is alien to me. Your esteem
I prize: your suit I must perforce refuse.
A different planet ruled us at our births,
And we are wide apart as world from world!

[She bows graciously.
Donna L.
[To Fenisa.]
It sounds well.

Donna F.
So it ought; 'tis only sound.

Don G.
[Eagerly.]
Let me speak, princes.
[Embarrassed by the look of Donna Diana.
Hem! I think, Don Luis,
I'll leave the cause to you. I shall reserve
My speech for greater need. When I do speak,
Then let her tremble.

Don C.
[Seriously.]
Pray proceed, Don Luis.
I've nought to urge; the princess has convinced me.

[Diana looks at him with astonishment.
Don L.
Then, princess, hear me.
Those evils you denounce spring not from love,
For love is generous, but from selfish passion.
You quote the sages; I the human heart,
Which tells that, in all periods, love has reigned
Supreme o'er man. And, pardon me, it seems
That you distrust your cause, withdrawing thus
From love's assault. If you have courage, show it.
Let us encounter you in pleasant warfare,
Let all be lawful that a knight may ask,
A lady grant. Should a true heart subdue you,
Even your defeat were gain, and if you conquer,
Be named Diana the Invincible,
And we will bear your fame from pole to pole.

Donna F.
[Apart to Laura.]
Most fair! most reasonable!

Donna L.
[Surprised, apart to Fenisa.]
She consents.

Donna D.
[Rising.]
You wish it so? Then I accept your challenge.
War is declared. To-night we hold a masque;
There be the conflict tried. Use every art
That cunning prompts, and ply me with all weapons
That tongue or eye can furnish. I will meet you.

Don L.
Never did richer prize or greater peril
Engage a soldier. Friends, let each one show
That he is worthy of so fair a foe.

[He bows profoundly to the ladies, then goes out.
Don G.
Princess, prepare yourself for my attack.
You'll need your wits. Howe'er the stars decide,
I do not quit this court without my bride.

[Bows, and goes out. Diana gives a light laugh, and remains standing, as if in abstraction.
Donna L.
[Apart to Fenisa.]
The game proceeds.

Donna F.
[Apart to Laura.]
It interests the players;
But 'tis dull sport, methinks, to lookers on.

Don C.
[Rising, and speaking aside with suppressed emotion.]
Now love befriend me!

Donna L.
[To Fenisa.]
Hush! Don Cæsar speaks.

Don C.
[Approaching Diana gravely.]
'Twould ill befit me, princess, as a knight,
To shun this mimic war. I cannot vie
With others in their transports, but still hope
My homage, though less ardent, may be welcome.

Donna D.
[Looking up surprised.]
What is't you say?

Don C.
I think of love as you do—
That 'tis degrading, enervating, vain.
Indeed, I long have held your own opinions,
But still more strictly. I can neither love
Nor bear to be beloved.

Donna D.
[Forcing a smile.]
Is there much danger,
Think you, of that?

Don C.
O, none. That's none to me.
The most seductive charms that woman boasts
Would leave me cold. But what if I should rouse
In her a passion I could ne'er requite?
That were unjust, indeed. I'm therefore frank.

Donna D.
Why do you pay me court then?

Don C.
To evince
My deep esteem. It were uncourteous
To stand aloof when others proffer homage.

Donna D.
There's no love in the case then?

Don C.
[With great gravity.]
Not the least.

Donna D.
[Astonished.]
Would you not marry?

Don C.
Some day, for convenience.
My court a mistress needs, my throne an heir.
Yes, I may take a wife, but not for love.

Donna D.
[Apart to Fenisa.]
You hear the coxcomb. Is he not absurd?

Donna F.
[Apart to Diana.]
He's proud.

Donna D.
[Apart to her.]
Say arrogant. Why, 'twould appear
He came here to defy me! [Apart to Laura.]
Were't not sport
To make this fop, spite of himself, enamoured?

Donna L.
That might be dangerous.

Donna D.
To whom?

Donna L.
To you.
You are but human.

Donna D.
What! Do you pretend
That I could stoop to love—to love for him?
I, whom prayers move not, vanquished by disdain!
Laura, you are a greater fool than he.

Donna L.
Well, you are warned.

Donna D.
[Aside, excitedly.]
I'll punish this vain pride.
[She turns pleasantly to Don Cæsar, who stands as if abstracted.
I rejoice, prince, to hear your sentiments,
And thank you for them.

Don C.
[Still seeming absent.]
Why?

Donna D.
Because with you
I can converse in freedom, with no risk
That you should love me.

Don C.
If for this you thank me,
I shall deserve your thanks.

Donna D.
[Laughing.]
Good, very good.

Perin enters, observed by Diana.
Don C.
Still, to yourself take heed. The firmest woman
May overrate her firmness when with man;
Deem me not rude then, but considerate,
In warning you from peril. If I catch
The slightest sign of love, I must avoid you.

Donna D.
Avoid me!

Don C.
Not for my sake, for your own.

Donna D.
[Aside.]
Insufferable, matchless vanity!
[Aloud, sarcastically.]
You could not be so cruel! Do not fear.

Don C.
We understand each other then?

Donna D.
[Rather excitedly.]
Most fully.
You may go satisfied.—Perin!

[Perin approaches her quickly and officiously. She whispers a few words to him.
Don C.
Princess,
Until to-night, farewell.

[He makes a serious bow, which Diana returns. He then retires slowly but stops short.
Donna D.
[With irritation, apart to Laura.]
You shall yet see him
In love to madness.

Donna L.
O poor wretch, he's doomed
If you take arms! [Apart to Fenisa.]
'Twill happen otherwise
I think. Then we may find a chance.

Donna F.
Heaven grant it.

Donna D.
Not gone, prince?

Don C.
No, but going.

Donna D.
[Ironically.]
Really going!
Have you the heart? Will you not change your mind?
Think twice, and fall in love.

Don C.
[Quietly.]
What then would happen?

Donna D.
[Haughtily.]
Your prompt and ignominious rejection.
Perin, a word with you. [Speaks to him apart.]
Good morning, prince.

[She bows somewhat disdainfully, and goes out followed by Donnas Laura and Fenisa.
Perin.
[To Don C.]
Well done! Well done! I'm proud of you.

Don C.
O Perin,
I love her more than ever! To disguise it
Is past my power. My resolution melts,
My strength forsakes me.

[Leans on a chair for support.
Perin.
Had another sworn
Don Cæsar spoke thus, I had not believed it.
What! when you've fired her pride—forced her to parley!
Even now she bade me follow her to take
Some weighty charge. I'll wager it concerns you.
Keep then in doors, and you shall quickly learn
Her plan of battle. Why to fail were monstrous,
Her game exposed, her tactics in your hand!
Good, good, you rally! Courage, prince!

[Goes out.
Don C.
He breathes
A second life into me. I'll not yield.
No flight! I win or perish on the field!

[Goes out opposite side from Perin.