St Cyprian: the wonder working magician E-Book

Pedro Calderón de la Barca

• Herausgeber: Books on Demand
• Kategorie: Sachliteratur, Reportagen, Biografien
• Sprache: Englisch
• Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2019

Seitenzahl: 102

Beschreibung

The second drama in this volume, "The Wonderful Magician", is perhaps better known to poetical students in England than even the first, from the spirited fragment Shelley has left us in his "Scenes from Calderon." The preoccupation of a subject by a great master throws immense difficulties in the way of any one who ventures to follow in the same path: but as Shelley allowed himself great licence in his versification, and either from carelessness or an imperfect knowledge of Spanish is occasionally unfaithful to the meaning of his author, it may be hoped in my own version that strict fidelity both as to the form as well as substance of the original may be some compensation for the absence of those higher poetical harmonies to which many of my readers will have been accustomed.

Leseprobe

St Cyprian: the wonder working magician

St Cyprian: the wonder working magicianINTRODUCTION.THE WONDER-WORKING MAGICIAN.ACT THE FIRST.ACT THE SECOND.ACT THE THIRD.Copyright

St Cyprian: the wonder working magician

Pedro Calderón de la Barca

INTRODUCTION.

The second drama in this volume, "The Wonderful Magician", is perhaps better known to poetical students in England than even the first, from the spirited fragment Shelley has left us in his "Scenes from Calderon." The preoccupation of a subject by a great master throws immense difficulties in the way of any one who ventures to follow in the same path: but as Shelley allowed himself great licence in his versification, and either from carelessness or an imperfect knowledge of Spanish is occasionally unfaithful to the meaning of his author, it may be hoped in my own version that strict fidelity both as to the form as well as substance of the original may be some compensation for the absence of those higher poetical harmonies to which many of my readers will have been accustomed."El Magico Prodigioso" appeared for the first time in the same volume as "La Vida es Sueno", prepared for publication in 1635 by Don Joseph Calderon. The translation is comprised in the same number of lines as the original, and all the preceding remarks on "Life is a Dream", whether in reference to the period of the first publication of the drama in Spain, or the principles I kept in view while attempting this version may be applied to it. As in the Case of "Life is a Dream", "The Wonderful Magician" has previously been translated entire by an English writer, ("Justina", by J.H. 1848); but as Archbishop Trench truly observes, "the writer did not possess that command of the resources of the English language, which none more than Calderon requires."The Legend on which Calderon founded "El Magico Prodigioso" will be found in Surius, "De probatis Sanctorum historiis", t. V. (Col. Agr. 1574), p. 351: "Vita et Martyrium SS. Cypriani et Justinae, autore Simeone Metaphraste", and in Chapter cxlii, of the "Legenda Aurea" of Jacobus de Voragine "De Sancta Justina virgine".The martyrdom of the Saints took place in the year 290, and their festival is celebrated by the Church on the 26th of September.Mr. Ticknor in his History of Spanish Literature, 1863, volume ii. p. 369, says that the Wonder-working Magician is founded on "the same legend on which Milman has founded his 'Martyr of Antioch.'" This is a mistake of the learned writer. "The Martyr of Antioch" is founded not on the history of St. Justina but of Saint Margaret, as Milman himself expressly states. Chapter xciii., "De Sancta Margareta", in the "Legenda Aurea" of Jacobus de Voragine contains her story.

THE WONDER-WORKING MAGICIAN.

TO THE MEMORY OF      SHELLEY,      WHOSE ADMIRATION FOR      "THE LIGHT AND ODOUR OF THE FLOWERY AND STARRY AUTOS"      IS THE HIGHEST TRIBUTE TO THE BEAUTY OF      CALDERON'S POETRY,  THIS DRAMA IS INSCRIBED.PERSONS.CYPRIAN.      THE DEMON.      LELIUS, The Governor of Antioch's Son.      FLORUS, friend of Lelius.      MOSCON, Servant of Cyprian.      CLARIN, Servant of Cyprian.      THE GOVERNOR OF ANTIOCH.      FABIUS, his Servant.      LYSANDER, the reputed Father of Justina.

ACT THE FIRST.

SCENE I.      A WOOD NEAR ANTIOCH.      Enter CYPPRIAN in a Student's gown, followed by CLARIN and MOSCON, as      poor Scholars, carrying books.      CYPRIAN.  In the pleasant solitude      Of this tranquil spot, this thicket      Formed of interlacing boughs,      Buds, and flowers, and shrubs commingled,      You may leave me, leaving also,      As my best companions, with me,      (For I need none else) those books      Which I bad you to bring hither      From the house; for while, to-day,      Antioch, the mighty city,      Celebrates with such rejoicing      The great temple newly finished      Unto Jupiter, the bearing      Thither, also, of his image      Publicly, in grant procession,      To its shrine to be uplifted;—      I, escaping the confusion      Of the streets and squares, have flitted      Hitherward, to spend in study      What of daylight yet may glimmer.      Go, enjoy the festival,      Go to Antioch and mingle      In its various sports, returning      When the sun descending sinketh      To be buried in the waves,      Which, beneath the dark clouds' fringes,      Round the royal corse of gold,      Shine like sepulchres of silver.      Here you'll find me.      MOSCON.      Sir, although      Most decidedly my wish is      To behold the sports, yet I      Cannot go without a whisper      Of some few five thousand words,      Which I'll give you in a jiffy.      Can it be that on a day      Of such free, such unrestricted      Revelry, and mirth, and fun,      You with your old books come hither      To this country place, rejecting      All the frolic of the city?      CLARIN.  Well, I think my master's right;      For there's nothing more insipid      Than a grand procession day,      Half fandangos, priests, and fiddles.      MOSCON.  Clarin, from the first to last,      All your life you've been a trickster,      A smart temporizing toady,      A bold flatterer, a trimmer,      Since you praise the thoughts of others,      And ne'er speak your own.      CLARIN.      The civil      Way to tell a man he lies      Is to say he's wrong:—you twig me,      Now I think I speak my mind.      CYPRIAN.  Moscon, Clarin, both I bid ye      Cease this silly altercation.      It is ever thus betwixt ye,      Puffed up with your little knowledge      Each maintains his own opinion.      Go, and (as I've said) here seek me      When night falls, and with the thickness      Of its shadows veils from view      This most fair and wondrous system      Of the universe.      MOSCON.      How comes it,      That although you have admitted      'Tis not right to see the feast,      Yet you go to see it?      CLARIN.      Simple      Is the answer: no one follows      The advice which he has given      To another.      MOSCON [aside].  To see Livia,      Would the gods that I were winged.      [Exit.      CLARIN [aside].  If the honest truth were told      Livia is the girl that gives me      Something worth the living for.      Even her very name has in it      This assurance:  'Livia', yes,      Minus 'a', I live for 'Livi'.*      [Exit.

[footnote] *This, of course, is a paraphrase of the original, which,      perhaps, may be given as an explanation.                   "Ilega, 'Livia'.             Al 'na', y se, Livia, 'liviana'."

SCENE II.      CYPRIAN.  Now I am alone, and may,      If my mind can be so lifted,      Study the great problem which      Keeps my soul disturbed, bewilder'd,      Since I read in Pliny's page      The mysterious words there written.      Which define a god; because      It doth seem beyond the limits      Of my intellect to find      One who all these signs exhibits.      This mysterious hidden truth      Must I seek for.      [Reads.

SCENE III.      Enter the DEMON, in gala dress.  CYPRIAN.      DEMON [aside].  Though thou givest      All thy thoughts to the research,      Cyprian, thou must ever miss it,      Since I'll hide it from thy mind.      CYPRIAN.  There's a rustling in this thicket.      Who is there? who art thou?      DEMON.      Sir,      A mere stranger, who has ridden      All this morning up and down      These dark groves, not knowing whither,      Having lost my way, my horse,      To the emerald that encircles,      With a tapestry of green,      These lone hills, I've loosed, it gives him      At the same time food and rest.      I'm to Antioch bound, on business      Of importance, my companions      I have parted from; through listless      Lapse of thought (a thing that happens      To the most of earthly pilgrims),      I have lost my way, and lost      Comrades, servants, and assistants.      CYPRIAN.  I am much surprised to learn      That in view of the uplifted      Towers of Antioch, you thus      Lost your way.  There's not a single      Path that on this mountain side,      More or less by feet imprinted,      But doth lead unto its walls,      As to its one central limit.      By whatever path you take,      You'll go right.      DEMON.      It is an instance      Of that ignorance which in sight      Even of truth the true goal misses.      And as it appears not wise      Thus to enter a strange city      Unattended and unknown,      Asking even my way, 'tis fitter      That 'till night doth conquer day,      Here while light doth last, to linger;      By your dress and by these books      Round you, like a learned circle      Of wise friends, I see you are      A great student, and the instinct      Of my soul doth ever draw me      Unto men to books addicted.      CYPRIAN.  Have you studied much?      DEMON.      Well, no;      But I've knowledge quite sufficient      Not to be deemed ignorant.      CYPRIAN.  Then, what sciences know you?      DEMON.      Many.      CYPRIAN.  Why, we cannot reach even one      After years of studious vigil,      And can you (what vanity!)      Without study know so many?      DEMON.  Yes; for I am of a country      Where the most exalted science      Needs no study to be known.      CYPRIAN.  Would I were a happy inmate      Of that country!  Here our studies      Prove our ignorance more.      DEMON.      No figment      Is the fact that without study,      I had the superb ambition      For the first Professor's chair      To compete, and thought to win it,      Having very numerous votes.      And although I failed, sufficient      Glory is it to have tried.      For not always to the winner      Is the fame.  If this you doubt,      Name the subject of your study,      And then let us argue on it;      I not knowing your opinion,      Even although it be the right,      Shall the opposite view insist on.      CYPRIAN.  I am greatly gratified      That you make this proposition.      Here in Plinius is a passage      Which much anxious thought doth give me      How to understand, to know      Who's the God of whom he has written.      DEMON.  'Tis that passage which declares      (Well I know the words) this dictum:      "God is one supremest good,      One pure essence, one existence,      Self-sustained, all sight, all hands."      CYPRIAN.  Yes, 'tis true.      DEMON.      And what is in it      So abstruse?      CYPRIAN.      I cannot find      Such a god as Plinius figures.      If he be the highest good,      Then is Jupiter deficient      In that attribute; we see him      Acting like a mortal sinner      Many a time,—this, Danae,      This, Europa, too, doth witness.      Can then, by the Highest Good,      All whose actions, all whose instincts,      Should be sacred and divine,      Human frailty be committed?      DEMON.  These are fables which the learned      First made use of, to exhibit      Underneath the names of gods      What in truth was but a hidden      System of philosophy.      CYPRIAN.  This reply is not sufficient,      Since such awe is due to God,      None should dare to Him attribute,      None should stain His name with sins,      Though these sins should be fictitious.      And considering well the case,      If the highest good is figured      By the gods, of course, they must      Will what is the best and fittest;      How, then, can some gods wish one thing,      Some another?  This we witness      In the dubious responses      Which are by their statues given.      Here you cannot say I speak of      Learned abstractions of the ideal.      To two armies, if two shrines      Promise give of being victors,      One, of course, must lose the battle:      The conclusion is so simple,—      Need I say it? that two wills,      Mutually antagonistic,      Cannot lead unto one end.      They being thus in opposition,      One we must consider good,      One as bad we must consider.      But an evil will in God      Would imply a contradiction:      Then the highest good can dwell not      Among gods who know division.      DEMON.  I deny your major, since      These responses may be given,      By the oracles, for ends      Which our intellectual vision      Cannot reach: 'tis providence.      Thus more good may have arisen      To the loser in that battle      Than its gain could bring the winner.