Richard V.Hamilton. On late renaissance sculpting
(Don Juan's Last Adventure)
a theatrical essay in two acts
Copyright © 1994 by Author
Email: PnNBr@aol.com
CAST OF CHARACTERS:
Don Juan (Scene One, 20; other scenes, 35).
Commander Rodrigo Sanchez, 30.
The Hostess, (Scene One, 30; other scenes, 45).
Don Diego, Dona Anna's brother, 40.
Don Ottavio, 25.
Dona Anna, 35.
Conchita, Don Ottavio's sister, 18.
Leporello, Don Juan's servant (Scene One, 25; other scenes, 40).
First Robber
Second Robber
The Statue, marble.
ACT ONE
SCENE ONE
A cheap sort of inn, just beyond the city line of Madrid. Two tables with benches; stage-center, a door leading to the hostess' rooms. Stage-left, Don Juan, sitting, drinking wine from a large cup, trying to write poetry on a scrap of paper. A red rose on the table, north of the sheet. Standing beside him with an impatient air is Leporello.
LEPORELLO
Sесоr, it's midnight.
(exasperated)
Midnight!
(sorrowfully)
And I'm hungry.
Why don't we call the hostess?
DON JUAN
....Moonlight.... What?
LEPORELLO
It's late.
DON JUAN
Now, Leporello, hold your tongue.
Look: I must finish this.
LEPORELLO
Oh, really?
DON JUAN
Yes.
This tiny ode here is my key; my password!
When sweet Dolores from her balcony
Blows me a kiss tomorrow night, I'll know
That I have won the battle.
LEPORELLO
(lugubriously)
Ah, Dolores?
Is that the name of our new passion, then?
DON JUAN
(enthusiastically)
Dolores, yes!... you ugly ape!... Dolores,
With her exquisite wrists and marble shoulders,
Dolores of the scarlet lips, Dolores
The wonderful, the sweet, the only one.
LEPORELLO
Quite right - but what of.... what of Dona Inez,
Dona Maria, Gilda, Carmencita,
And the three dozen other wenches, whom
We used to honor with nocturnal visits?
DON JUAN
(smiles)
I'm bound to make mistakes, I'm only twenty.
LEPORELLO
Mistakes, that's what they were?
DON JUAN
The greatest one
Was to engage a disrespectful servant.
Enter Don Rodrigo and the Hostess. The Hostess is strumming her guitar and laughing.
DON RODRIGO
Dear Hostess, I can hardly wait! I'm burning!
Pray torture me no longer; there's the door,
Your rooms beyond it.
THE HOSTESS
(laughing)
Now, now, Don Rodrigo!
You're too impatient for a married man.
DON RODRIGO
Please don't remind me!
THE HOSTESS
Why, your noble spouse
I'm sure would be exceptionally angry
If she somehow found out about her husband's
Adventure with an inn proprietress,
A woman of no rank, a shady wench
Who serenades your lordship every week
In this - as you once put it - squalid hole.
Be patient! I have customers, it seems.
DON RODRIGO
Well, sing a song for me at least, dear hostess.
A pause. The Hostess looks at Don Rodrigo mockingly, then turns to regard Don Juan.
THE HOSTESS
(to Don Juan)
You mind, Sесоr?
DON JUAN
(looks up)
Oh, not at all.
LEPORELLO
My supper!
Sесоr, tell her we want our supper first.
You know my meals to me are most important.
DON JUAN
(angrily and quietly)
Do hold your tongue, you knave!
DON RODRIGO
(after regarding Don Juan suspiciously)
Proceed, my dear.
THE HOSTESS
(sings)
Darling, my forests are boundless and green,
The air in my parks always fragrant and keen;
River and ocean, the tide and the shores -
All that is mine shall be yours.
Duke, I'd be willing, if I weren't near
Dying of love for a young balladeer;
Bless him, he's certain he's done nothing wrong
Stealing my heart with a song.
So young and fair,
She was eager to hear
One more time
that one tune
Which once,
under the moon,
Was so sweet to her ear.
That playful air
By the young balladeer
Still unceasingly raves
In the turbulent waves
Of the Guadalquivir.
Darling, my oaken doors never give way,
Their locks are heavy and sound; and you may
Loathe me; but being my wife is your lot,
Whether you're willing or not.
Roaming the banks, he kept asking the tide
What had become of his volatile bride,
Deeply repentant, suspecting the truth,
Mourning her beauty and youth.
So young and fair,
She'd been eager to hear
One more time that one tune
Which once, under the moon,
Was so sweet to her ear.
That playful air
By the young balladeer
Still unceasingly raves
In the turbulent waves
Of the Guadalquivir.
DON RODRIGO
Ah, what a charming voice you have, my precious.
THE HOSTESS
You think so?
DON JUAN
Leporello.
LEPORELLO
Yes, the supper....
DON JUAN
(gives him the rose)
Take this to her, and beg her to accept it, -.
My humble tribute to her charming voice.
LEPORELLO
Take.... no! I'm sorry, but I must object.
DON JUAN
You imbecile!
LEPORELLO
No, no, Sесоr. I can't.
The lady's lover's apt to take offence
And use his fist upon my frontal view.
DON JUAN
I might resort to that ahead of him.
Don't press me. Go!
LEPORELLO
Oh, fine! I go, I go.
Leporello walks over to the Hostess and Don Rodrigo.
LEPORELLO
Sесоr, my master wishes me to speak
To our dear hostess here, yet on my part
I must declare before you think me rude
That I am doing this against my will.
I'm forced, coerced, compelled, and badly threatened.
Please grant your pardon! I respect you greatly,
You have no equals, such is my opinion.
You must take pity on this sorry wretch
Who's taking liberties, for I'm infringing,
Perhaps, upon your privacy. Forgive me.
You are the greatest of the great....
DON RODRIGO
(icily)
What do you want?
LEPORELLO
Just this. This rose - a little worn, I fear,
Would look most charming in the lady's hair;
At least my master thinks so, though I would,
If I were daring, second his opinion....
It is a gift - quite innocent, at that.
We mean no harm - besides, the lady always
Can throw the thing away again whenever
She likes - for, after all, her dazzling beauty....
DON RODRIGO
My friend, go back at once and tell you master
That, while his parents have, quite evidently,
Neglected to improve the lad's upbringing
By introducing spanking to his lessons,
I might, if need be, set this defect right.
THE HOSTESS
Sесоr - please! After all, he is so young....
DON RODRIGO
Young and impertinent.
THE HOSTESS
....And quite good-looking.
DON RODRIGO
Ah, so that's it!
LEPORELLO
Sесоr!
DON JUAN
(approaching)
Hey, Leporello,
What's keeping you?
LEPORELLO
My lord....
DON RODRIGO
(to Don Juan)
My lad, I'm tired
Of you and of your servant. You must leave.
DON JUAN
(coldly)
Must I? Indeed.
DON RODRIGO
Yes.
THE HOSTESS
Don Rodrigo, please!
DON RODRIGO
You like the boy.
THE HOSTESS
(blushing)
Of course I do. He is
Most amiable, sweet, and....
DON RODRIGO
And good-looking.
(roars)
Enough now! Very well, please go inside.
This will be settled in no time whatever,
And, once it's settled, one of us will enter
Your bedroom - to announce the pleasant news.
THE HOSTESS
Sесоr!
DON RODRIGO
Begone!
Don Juan smiles at the Hostess and nods. Dismayed, she withdraws into her rooms. A pause.
LEPORELLO
(quietly and intensely, to Don Juan)
Sесоr, please! Please? Do beg him to forgive you.
He is Commander Sanchez, Don Rodrigo,
The best man of the sword in all of Spain!
DON JUAN
Isn't she lovely, though?
LEPORELLO
I might as well
Start seeking new employment. He'll be killed.
DON RODRIGO
My boy, this time, I think I'll let it slide.
However, I must warn you that you ought to
Be more discreet in public places.
DON JUAN
(dreamily, looking at the Hostess' door)
Yes.
She is so beautiful! It's overwhelming.
And what a voice! Oh, she'll be mine - tonight!
DON RODRIGO
(not believing his ears)
What did you say?
DON JUAN
(as if seeing him for the first time)
I? What? Ah, we must fight.
Yes, I remember now. Well, I forgive you.
It's settled. You may leave.
LEPORELLO
There goes my supper.
Sесоr, forgive me if I don't attend
Your funeral. For here's my resignation.
DON RODRIGO
(springs to his feet)
Insolent dog!
DON JUAN
(coming out of his trance, threateningly)
Excuse me?
DON RODRIGO
I shall teach you
Some manners, wretch!
DON JUAN
(smiles, in a bantering tone)
Indeed! Are you a teacher?
DON RODRIGO
Your name, sir!
(draws his sword)
DON JUAN
Of the noble house of Alba
I am Don Juan.
(draws his)
LEPORELLO
You were; now you're a corpse.
DON RODRIGO
On guard, then!
LEPORELLO
(to Rodrigo)
Lordship, do you need a servant?
They cross swords. Rodrigo is pressing. Don Juan is reduced to defending himself. A bench is overturned. Rodrigo presses harder and soon has Juan against the wall. Don Juan attempts a thrust and Rodrigo disarms him. His sword is poised to strike the decisive blow. Leporello dashes forward and grabs Rodrigo's hand, forcing it upward. Don Juan, seeing this, pulls the dagger from Rodrigo's belt and stabs him in the chest. Rodrigo falls and lies motionless.
LEPORELLO
Oh, no!
DON JUAN
(calmly)
He's dead.
LEPORELLO
Oh, no! What have we done!
DON JUAN
(slowly)
You are a loyal servant, Leporello.
You're more than that. You are now my accomplice.
LEPORELLO
Oh, no!
DON JUAN
Oh, yes. See to it that the body
Is not discovered here; take it away.
LEPORELLO
Alone?
DON JUAN
I'd help you, but his lordship here
Promised that one of us would surely keep
The hostess company.... Commander Sanchez
Will not be missed till dawn.
For a while, master and servant look each other in the eye. Don Juan places his sword on the table, shrugs, and enters the Hostess' rooms. Leporello sits down on the bench.
SCENE TWO
At the Commander's Statue, outside the convent.
Dona Anna is praying. Presently she rises from her knees. Enter Don Diego.
DON DIEGO
Sister, don't go. I have to speak to you.
DONA ANNA
Diego - oh! You've scared me! What's the matter?
DON DIEGO
My darling Anna - I admire your virtues,
Your faith, your loyalty; and, as your brother,
I'm proud of you. But, also as your brother,
I am allowed.... well.... certain liberties
Among which one is to be always frank.
I might sound coarse at times; do please forgive me.
DONA ANNA
You are a brute sometimes, I must admit,
Although I love you none the less for that.
DON DIEGO
Permit me, therefore, to remind you kindly
That fifteen years have now elapsed since he....
(indicates the statue with a nod)
....Your estimable and courageous husband....
DONA ANNA
Diego, please.
DON DIEGO
Oh, fine! But listen further.
Tonight, my castle will be freshly cleaned,
Ten thousand candles will be lit; my cook -
The jolly Frenchman from Anjou - shall do
His utmost to delight some fifty eaters.
There will be women - young and old, all married,
Their husbands, too - all splendid cavaliers,
And also - and I stress this - we shall have
A number of unmarried gentlemen
Who shall be bored, unless they're entertained
By someone of your stately grace and presence,
Of your vitality, your wit, your knowledge.
Pray don't deny me, Anna - come! do come!
DONA ANNA
Diego - I believe I've had the pleasure
Of patiently conversing on this head
With you - well.... say, a thousand times, at least.
Although delightful each and every time,
The topic now has lost some of its freshness.
DON DIEGO
But Anna, sister! - love you as I might
A brother cannot well replace a husband
Where it's a husband's place to claim his rights.
DONA ANNA
At home, you mean? But I....
DON DIEGO
I mean in bed.
DONA ANNA
Diego!
DON DIEGO
Listen now. There is no shame
In telling you this, not for me, at least.
These sallow cheeks, this grim, unhealthy pallor,
This hair with streaks of gray, this sullen look,
The premature decay of the once-splendid body,
All this - it could be helped, if only you
Could force yourself into selecting one
Of those three hundred estimable suitors
I could procure for you with perfect ease.
Just say the word!
DONA ANNA
Diego, let me tell you
Once and for all - I am not interested
In men, and if you wish to know the reason,
Be good enough to listen.
A pause.
DON DIEGO
Please go on.
DONA ANNA
After my husband's death, pain and remorse
Were much too great - another man was quite
Unthinkable, although back then, I was,
As I remember now, somewhat attractive.
Later, when years of grief had subtly stripped me
At least in part of beauty, I could still
Attract and charm and please and entertain,
Endowed by grief, if nothing else, with something
Which in these parts passes for wit, - an asset
Valuable in Madrid, where laughter is -
While reasons to repine are in abundance -
Of value. Now that I'm much older still,
As in four years I shall be joyless forty,
There are but two things with whose aid I might
Be able to attract a man. They are
My title and your money. I'm so made
That the mere thought of buying knowingly
Sham happiness might force me to renounce
All matters secular - and go into a convent.
DON DIEGO
You're wrong. You're very pretty.
DONA ANNA
Pray desist,
Diego. I must go. Ah, look, your friend
Ottavio has arrived.
Enter Ottavio, out of breath.
OTTAVIO
Good day, Sесоra!
Diego - I must speak with you at once.
DONA ANNA
I leave you, gentlemen. Farewell.
DON DIEGO
Good bye.
OTTAVIO
Farewell, Sесоra.
Anna leaves.
DON DIEGO
Well, then! What's the matter!
You look a fright, my friend - all sweat and dust.
OTTAVIO
No wonder - when I've travelled leagues and leagues
In no time whatsoever from Seville!
Horses kept melting under me like snow!
I bring bad news, Diego.
DON DIEGO
Well, then. Speak.
OTTAVIO
I didn't see him, but I saw his servant.
DON DIEGO
Whose servant?
OTTAVIO
I shall tell you presently.
Do you remember - fifteen years ago,
When Don Rodrigo - may he rest in peace -
Whose marble likeness here she visits daily -
When he was killed - you promptly sent a challenge
To his assassin?
DON DIEGO
Yes.
OTTAVIO
And that the king,
In order to protect him - as you claimed -
Exiled him?
DON DIEGO
Yes.
OTTAVIO
And that, before he left,
He sent you a dispatch, in which he stated
That challenges to him were sacred things,
And that, no matter how prolonged his absence,
A week, a month, a year, a century, -
He would regard your challenge as still valid?
DON DIEGO
Yes, I remember that.
OTTAVIO
Now I must tell you
That his exile is over, that your foe
Is on his way - indeed, a quick hour's ride
From here.
DON DIEGO
Why, he!
OTTAVIO
Unfortunately, yes.
A pause.
DON DIEGO
Well, I must act.
OTTAVIO
Indeed, my friend. My horses
Are at your service. Now, in Barcelona
You have two ships, I think. With any luck
You could reach Italy in a few days.
DON DIEGO
Ottavio - what, you thought I would escape?
OTTAVIO
What else is there to do? Well, you could hide
In someone's cellar, but the other way
Seems much more certain.
DON DIEGO
You're quite mad, Ottavio.
One would suppose that you'd gone back to drinking,
Spending your days in bed and nights at taverns!
....That I should hide or flee? defile forever
My noble name and my proud ancestry?
OTTAVIO
Think of your sister. Once you're gone, she'll be
Crushed and alone, in abject poverty.
DON DIEGO
It's one thing to be poor; it's quite another
To have a ghastly coward for a brother.
OTTAVIO
(looking intently at Diego)
You are afraid, Sесоr.
DON DIEGO
Fear in itself
Is not ignominy. It is an instinct,
A hindrance which one knows how to surmount
When one's good name and honor are at stake.
OTTAVIO
Sесоr....
DON DIEGO
Enough! I'm going to prepare
My sword and pistols. Fare thee well, Ottavio.
Oh - and I'm sure I'm glad to see you sober.
He leaves stage-left. A pause.
OTTAVIO
Deuce take the pompous fool! Oh, Dona Anna!
He leaves stage-right. Off-stage, Ottavio shouts. A pause.
Stage-right, enter Leporello.
LEPORELLO
Sесоr! Sесоr! It's safe, there's no one here!
DON JUAN
(stealing in)
Well! Here we are - back home, and none too soon.
Who was that fellow I knocked down out yonder?
LEPORELLO
A watchman, naturally. I say, Sесоr,
You ought to be aware of your surroundings.
DON JUAN
Forgive me, my good man. I'm out of sorts.
This absent-mindedness will be my downfall.
(a pause)
Look at this convent! Many years ago
A child of sixteen, I would seek my peace
Under that somber wall - and write a poem
For Gilda - my abominable lust
For her was overwhelming. Man! what fun!
My yet unhardened, vulnerable heart
Had not a moment's rest; my sight was blurred,
My senses stunned, when half-awake, half-dead
I dreamed of her at night; the silly boy!
She was from Naples, was my maiden passion.
(as an afterthought)
Back then, Italian girls were much in fashion,
Their poignant beauty sung throughout the land.
LEPORELLO
Much more so than their husbands, sword in hand.
DON JUAN
Say, Leporello - that astounding likeness,
That marble image - was it there before?
I don't remember it.
LEPORELLO
Nor I. It seems
They've been artistically inclined here in our absence.
DON JUAN
(goes through the gate and looks closer)
Looks like a monument, Italian style.
Some follower of Michelangelo.
LEPORELLO
Who, the deceased?
DON JUAN
The maker.
LEPORELLO
Oh, I see.
DON JUAN
There's no inscription here. What modesty.
To rig up something so original
And carve no name upon the pedestal.
Were I the author of this force and grace
I would have carved mine right across the face.
What do you think?
LEPORELLO
So help me, I don't like it.
DON JUAN
Why not?
LEPORELLO
Artistic gibberish aside,
It's too morose for me, too grim. It's scary.
DON JUAN
I would agree with you, my Leporello,
Did I not find a certain fascination
In all things sinister.
LEPORELLO
Your friend the devil
Might well agree with you. I, on my part, do not.
DON JUAN
And yet you've stuck with me for twenty years.
LEPORELLO
Employment is quite scarce these days, my lord.
DON JUAN
And then, you're never overworked, nor bored.
LEPORELLO
Bored - no, not anymore!
DON JUAN
Enough. Your silly fears
Are, first, ungrounded, second, most annoying.
LEPORELLO
Just as you please, Sесоr. However, toying
With royal orders!
DON JUAN
Please!
LEPORELLO
Well, yes, it's true:
The king was most considerate to you,
Not harsh at all, most kind. Yet, for a while
It sounded like a permanent exile.
DON JUAN
Oh, yes - my lot was cast before I could
Defend myself - now, a reluctant rover,
I roam the world. Bah! Never fear, good servant!
We shall set off again, but not before
My score is settled. The repugnant viper
Who once made it his business that his challenge,
His cause and his complaint were widely known,
Indeed so widely that His Majesty
Had to exile me - he shall die tonight.
For perfidy must never go unpunished.
I've suffered long enough.
LEPORELLO
Take my advice
And let us leave.
DON JUAN
Come, Leporello. Here,
Deliver this dispatch to Don Diego
And tell him that tomorrow night, at ten
He'll find me waiting at a certain inn
Just on the outskirts, and the one he knows
So well.
LEPORELLO
Must I?
DON JUAN
Parole d'honneur!
LEPORELLO
Your Grace,
How do you know he won't laugh in my face?
DON JUAN
He won't. He's pompous, prejudiced, and boring.
Do you suppose in all these years he's grown
Original enough to scorn a foe,
Discard an insult, disregard a challenge?
Go.
LEPORELLO
My good lord, I beg you to consider.
DON JUAN
Consider what?
LEPORELLO
Another vicious murder!
DON JUAN
Murder? Oh, no. The ghastly guilt that binds us
Together has no place here. An opponent
Is never an assassin....
(roars)
Go, you knave!
Leporello does, reluctantly.
DON JUAN
Fifteen long years - and not a line of verse.
A decade and a half of amorous adventures,
Of hopeful evenings, when the belle's soft eyes
Grow softer still with lust, when hands
Are joined reluctantly at first, a kiss,
A tress of hair against one's cheek - and then
The night, so splendid in its vibrant darkness,
Soothing and hopeful, full of expectations
Beyond the wildest dreams, and then - the end,
The shameful morning, when the bold seducer
Crawls out of bed, and, throwing furtive glances
At his fair victim, gathers up his boots,
His shirt, his cloak, his sword and, on tip-toe,
Beats an uncouth retreat. The horse is saddled,
The road is clear - he's off at lightning speed,
And, having traveled a respectful distance,
He finds a castle, inn, a squalid den,
To mark a new prey, to begin again.
And then, of course, it oftentimes so happens
That one's detained - and then, it never fails
But that the belle will have a brave avenger -
The husband if, through some farcical folly
She happens to be married, or her brother,
Should she not have the pleasure; and they come,
Brimming with pious wrath and deadly venom,
And offer one to have a fencing session
In some dark place with them. They cannot bear
To think that their beloved belle prefers
A stranger's charms to theirs; they hope that steel
Will serve them better than their wit and flesh.
I don't know why. In all this time - no love,
No poetry, no rest, no happiness.
Well, time to go. Whoa, hush now! Someone's coming.
Enter Dona Anna running, frightened.
DONA ANNA
Help me, Sесоr! They're after me! I'm lost!
She runs to the statue, looks back.
Don Juan, drawing his sword, steps between her and the First Robber. The latter attacks him, and Don Juan easily puts him out of action by knocking him down with the hilt of his sword. The Second Robber runs in, only to stop abruptly, the point of Juan's sword at his throat.
DON JUAN
I'm sorry, sir, to interrupt your errand.
You must be pressed for time.
THE SECOND ROBBER
Sесоr, don't hurt me.
DON JUAN
Why would I hurt you? Your repugnant being,
Your thoughts, your deeds are punishment enough.
Pick up your comrade, pray and do relieve me
Of your wearisome talk and of your presence.
The Robber drags his companion across and off the stage.
DONA ANNA
Thank you, Sесоr. You've saved my life.
DON JUAN
I did
My duty as gentleman, no more.
You ought to be more careful, my dear lady.
DONA ANNA
This place was once so safe!
DON JUAN
And you - so young.
Precisely. But, as we are prone to change,
So are the streets. What brings you here at this
Unholy hour?
DONA ANNA
Sесоr....
DON JUAN
Were you a maiden
Of gentle seventeen, I would assume
It was a young heart's love. Were you a crone,
Hunched, wheezing, grumbling - I would say, Remorse.
You're neither quite the latter nor the former.
Well, do not answer. Why, I must admit
I'm being impolite - forgive me, pray,
And, then, with your permission....
(he bows, turns; stops)
By the way,
You wouldn't know, perchance, whom is this image
Meant to depict? No? Very well, good night.
(walks towards the exit stage-right)
DONA ANNA
Sесоr, a moment.
DON JUAN
Yes?
DONA ANNA
Just now I thought
I knew you.
DON JUAN
Yes, indeed, how very curious!
Thoughts that will cross one's mind at times! However,
I must be on my way.
DONA ANNA
Yes, I can see that.
You are a traveler.
DON JUAN
Is that a vice?
DONA ANNA
A plight, sir.
DON JUAN
Truly!
DONA ANNA
In your case it is.
Reluctant journeys are a subtle torture,
A painful duty for some men. You have
Perhaps good reasons to be living thus -
Always the road, the inn, the road again.
DON JUAN
Yes, do go on.
DONA ANNA
Well.... In my observation,
There are two kinds of journeymen. One, when
One finds one's joy in the mere act of motion,
Traversing pointlessly both land and ocean
Mounted, on board a vessel, or on foot;
The other, when the rover, glum and mute
Is making his escape. Guilt and remorse
Are his pursuers. He may kill his horse,
Hide, cheat, dream up new names, build reputations,
Make war and serve a dozen different nations -
And yet, do as he might, he won't attain
His peace; thus, all his battles are in vain.
And so, although I haven't heard your story,
It seems to me you fit the latter category.
A pause.
DON JUAN
Forgive me. I've been rude.
DONA ANNA
Oh, not at all.
(a pause)
I come here often to reflect and pray.
This marble statue here was once erected
In mem'ry of my hapless, poor late husband
Ruthlessly slain some fifteen years ago
By someone called Don Juan, a libertine.
Don Juan goes to the statue, touches the marble.
DON JUAN
Commander Sanchez.
DONA ANNA
Yes, that was his name.
How did you know? Were you his friend?
DON JUAN
Not quite.
(a pause)
I've heard of him. And so, for fifteen years,
You've mourned him. Ah, you must have loved him so!
DONA ANNA
Not really.
DON JUAN
No?...
DONA ANNA
A certain sentiment
Compels me to be faithful to his grave.
DON JUAN
Propriety?
DONA ANNA
No. Guilt. For on the day
Of his untimely death, I loved another.
Platonically, of course. He was a youth
Of most imposing qualities - a poet
Of quite an irresistible appeal.
He disappeared - I haven't seen him since.
DON JUAN
What was his name?
DONA ANNA
Don Pedro.
A pause.
DON JUAN
Goodness gracious!
So, to atone for that innocent prank,
You doom yourself to solitude and boredom!
DONA ANNA
Not quite so innocent, nor just a prank.
I loved the boy with all my heart. That night
I was prepared, in youthful recklessness,
To cast my virtue at his feet. My husband's
Untimely death prevented me from falling
So low.
DON JUAN
Just one more question. Fifteen years
Is a considerable interval. And yet
Who knows?... Well! Do you love that rascal still?
DONA ANNA
Whom?
DON JUAN
Why, Don Pedro.
DONA ANNA
In my mind, he's still
A boy of twenty.
DON JUAN
That is not an answer.
DONA ANNA
You're indiscreet.
DON JUAN
Just that? I'm insolent,
I have no manners; I'm a ghastly brute.
But - do you love him still?
DONA ANNA
Well, I don't know.
It's been so long....
DON JUAN
....since credulous Dolores
Agreed to grant the boy a rendezvous.
DONA ANNA
Dolores! You remember, then.
DON JUAN
Indeed.
They look each other in the eye.
DONA ANNA
And so....
DON JUAN
What is your true name, pray?
DONA ANNA
And yours?
Don Juan smiles and averts his eyes for a moment.
DON JUAN
Don Pedro, at the time, had nothing to conceal.
DONA ANNA
That so?
DON JUAN
Parole d'honneur!
DONA ANNA
I'm Dona Anna.
You haven't changed much.
DON JUAN
(laughs)
Just a few gray streaks,
A wrinkle here and there; but otherwise
I'm just as silly, I suppose.
DONA ANNA
And I?
DON JUAN
Remove that hood that I might look at you.
DONA ANNA
Oh, but....
DON JUAN
For the old time's sake!
She removes her hood. He looks at her appraisingly at first; presently, his expression changes; his eyes flash. Dona Anna is neither shy nor coquettish. A pause.
DON JUAN
(smiling)
Goodness me!
You're just as beautiful - but no; much more!
What?
DONA ANNA
Shameless flatterer!
DON JUAN
I never flatter.
Listen, Dolores - Anna! Let us have
Dinner someplace - your place? For I have much
To tell you. I have traveled, I have seen
A dozen countries.
DONA ANNA
Yes - tomorrow, then....
DON JUAN
Tomorrow? Why not now?
DONA ANNA
It's late. I have
A reputation to uphold; thus, lest your visit
Should be wrongly interpreted by some
Improperly imaginative neighbors -
Pray call on me tomorrow afternoon.
DON JUAN
I cannot wait that long!
DONA ANNA
I've waited longer.
They look each other in the eye. She leaves quickly.
DON JUAN
(with an exasperated gesture)
I can't believe myself! Ah! shameless fool!
She's aged! she's much too old! restrain yourself!
Destroy that woman's peace with hopes and dreams,
Would you? Abandon her, like all those others?
Would you, you ghastly sinner? Quick, to horse -
Away from here! France, Wales, Americay!
Where is that most abhorrent Leporello?
Deuce take him! Leporello! Knave! To horse!
Curtain.
SCENE THREE
Don Diego's house. Conchita and Don Diego.
DON DIEGO
Conchita, child, what brings you here so late?
CONCHITA
My lord, I beg you - I must speak to you.
DON DIEGO
Indeed, we have so much to tell each other.
Tomorrow morning, come again. I'll be
Entirely at your service.
CONCHITA
No, my lord.
I must not leave here with a heavy heart.
Waiting would kill me outright. I must speak
At once, and have your answer.
DON DIEGO
Now?
CONCHITA
Directly.
DON DIEGO
Well, since, in fact, there's still a little time....
But I must warn you, I shall go quite soon.
CONCHITA
This won't take long. My lord, since our engagement
I've been so anxious - it is difficult
For me to speak. My lord, I hardly know
Where to begin.
DON DIEGO
You worry me, my child.
What's on your mind?
CONCHITA
My lord, I'm but eighteen.
I must, to someone of your stamp, seem quite папve.
Were life a golden cup containing wisdom,
Anxiety, experience, delight,
Sorrow and grief, abandon, love and hatred -
I'd say I'd never touched my lips to its
Mysterious and potent liquid. I
Am to this day a simple country girl.
When Mother said I should be good to you,
I followed her advice. When our engagement
Was publicly announced - I trembled, but
Still I complied; but now, the day is near
On which we wed. I must confess to you
A terrible, dark and unseemly secret.
My lord, I do not love you.
A pause.
DON DIEGO
Love, my child
Is but a word. It is, I know, in vogue,
Thanks much to certain frivolous endeavors
Of literary nature, coming from
The North - from France, that is; one nation that
Mocks marriage, scorns the ancient laws, condemns
The very thing upon which nature thrives -
The family. In Spain, I'll have you know,
There is but one remaining gentleman
Who shares their ghastly views; but presently
We shall be rid of him.
CONCHITA
My lord, I beg you!
DON DIEGO
Enough, my child. Though it was most imprudent
On your dear parents' part to let you read
Those French frivolities, pray rest assured
That I shall not allow them in my house.
Enough, I say! Go home, and in the morning
We will go out - discreetly - in my carriage,
And I shall speak to you of life and marriage.
Begone.
Enter Ottavio.
OTTAVIO
My lord, it's time.
DON DIEGO
Dear friend - good evening.
A timely visit. Take your sister home.
OTTAVIO
My lord, a word with you.
DON DIEGO
Sorry. I'm late.
Or, if you wish, you may have dinner here
And wait for my return.
OTTAVIO
But you must not
Risk everything, my lord!
DON DIEGO
A lot you know!
Our Lord is on my side. I cannot fail. I go.
He leaves.
OTTAVIO
Sister!
CONCHITA
Ottavio, why?
OTTAVIO
Hush. Do sit down.
"Our Lord is on my side." The pompous wretch,
The blasphemer!
He sits down exasperatedly.
CONCHITA
Ottavio, I am frightened.
I do not want to marry him.
OTTAVIO
I say,
After what happens now, I doubt you'll have to.
CONCHITA
What are you saying?
OTTAVIO
That one might as well
Find the good mason who erected that
Much-praised by critics marble masterpiece
Outside the convent. Soon there'll be another.
The husband's there, we'll need one for the brother.
Poor Dona Anna!
CONCHITA
Brother, please explain....
OTTAVIO
Conchita - there are hypocrites in Spain
Who think it is their duty to be pompous,
Who love tradition which they understand
And hate the truth which rather they did not.
The nonsense which they call their code of honor
Blinds them. Anna - the sweetest one on earth,
One of great loyalty - once lost her husband
Who left her nothing but a shabby house
Swarming with rats, because he was convinced
That his barbarous pride was worth far more
Than his unhappy wife's peace, love, and welfare.
She lost him to a sword-thrust. Fifteen years
She spent alone in abject poverty.
Each week, her brother paid her an allowance
Sufficient quite, perhaps, to keep a dog
Alive - but quite unfit for gentlefolk
Who know no trade and, ultimately, have
No means of learning one. She did accept
Her brother's kindness - there's no shame in that.
But - what d'you know! The gracious cavalier
Who was once dim enough to send a challenge
Is now preposterous enough to own it.
His confirmation sent, he must now die.
The hand that once destroyed the pompous husband
Will soon annihilate the hypocrite.
The sword is poised to strike, the steel is hot.
The convent shall be Dona Anna's lot.
A long pause.
CONCHITA
Say, brother - since you do appear to know him -
What is his name?
OTTAVIO
Whose?
CONCHITA
Why, Diego's foe's.
OTTAVIO
Don Juan.
CONCHITA
What!
OTTAVIO
Yes. It's only fair, I think
That Don Diego, childish as he is,
Is set to fight the swiftest blade in Spain.
Self-slaughter, after all, is almost murder,
And knowingly opposing Juan is nothing
Short of self-slaughter. Thus, we might as well
Pity the silly wretch. He'll burn in hell
Before the sun comes up this morning.
CONCHITA
I
Would like to see that man.
OTTAVIO
Oh, really? Why?
CONCHITA
I hardly know myself.
OTTAVIO
I think I do.
CONCHITA
You do?
OTTAVIO
Yes. Sister, sister! It is true
That a mere thought of him can fascinate
A gentle maiden's heart. His ghastly fame
Sets him apart from all. There is in him
The mystery of life, so dear to all romantics,
The poetry of spheres cherished by women,
The brutal force that sets their hearts athrob,
The chivalry, the courtesy, the suaveness
Of the proverbial cavaliers of old,
And then, of course, his legendary courage
Which has allowed him to defy the king,
Laugh at his foes, and scorn the agents of
The Holy Inquisition. It's no wonder,
Then, that our women, with their customary
Severity of judgment are prepared
To break their pledges and to mock their husbands,
And seek the answers to unuttered prayers
In Don Juan's arms. However, on my part,
I find myself increasingly reluctant
To join my voice to theirs in condemnation
Of that supposedly repugnant man.
(a contemptuous smile plays on his lips; the preacher is gone; the poetic thinker takes his place)
What makes our women flock to him, I ask?
Is he indeed so irresistible,
Or is the alternative so unappealing?
CONCHITA
Ottavio, take me there. I want to see
That man.
OTTAVIO
See him? And why?
CONCHITA
I cannot say.
OTTAVIO
Ah, sister! What about that youthful rhymester,
That balladeer?
CONCHITA
He is of common birth.
He loves me well, sweet creature that he is,
So credulous, so soft - so ordinary.
I want to see the fabled man of passion,
The legendary lover, whose dark eye
Pierces a maiden's heart at once, who knows
No obstacles.... nor fear.
OTTAVIO
(prosaically)
His eyes are blue.
At least, that's what his former mistresses
Tell their acquaintances at public functions.
CONCHITA
No matter. Take me there, dear brother, please!
OTTAVIO
I might as well. I have to be there too
If only to pick up Diego's corpse.
I wanted purity, not calculation -
To be accepted based on my own merits
Or shown the door. Alas, the one I love
Will now have reason to consent without
Being too picky. Married on such terms,
I doubt there'll be much happiness in store
For us. Well, go. I'll meet you at the convent.
I need to be alone for now. Adieu.
CONCHITA
I'm off, then.
She leaves.
OTTAVIO
What a melancholy epoch.
I do not want unearned advantages!
Diego, pompous fool! I am ashamed to own
I almost wish you were the better swordsman!
Curtain.
ACT TWO
SCENE FOUR
At the Commander's statue. Early evening. Conchita runs in, looks furtively around, goes to the statue, looks up.
CONCHITA
How boring is that face! How grim and ugly.
My future husband is far more attractive.
And his opponent? Ah, how much I'd give
To steal a glance! I've heard so many rumors
About his ways, his manner, his appearance!
He's quite tall, I fancy; dark, and slender,
With gentle hands and formidable strength.
His eyes - blue? brown? - shine like the brightest stars,
A frolicsome half-smile plays on his lips.
The intrepid traveler, the gallant lover!
Suppose I should encounter him! What then?
What would he say and how would I react?
"Good morning, Sесоrita!" Truly, I
Would in all likelihood just lose my tongue!
I ought to be prepared. "What is your name?"
"Conchita, sir." What vapid nonsense, really!
Why would he even bother with my type?
And yet.... But quiet now! There's someone coming.
She hides behind the statue. Enter Don Juan, sheet of paper in hand. He looks furtively around, places the sheet on the pedestal, produces an ink bottle and pen, starts writing. Enter the Bag Lady (former Hostess).
THE BAG LADY
Ah, kind Sесоr! So handsome and so noble!
I know you have some coins for me. You do
Look generous. Sесоr?
DON JUAN
(interrupted; with furious civility)
I beg your pardon?
THE BAG LADY
A little silver for the unworthy beggar!
DON JUAN
Oh, go away!
(resumes writing)
THE BAG LADY
So rude!
(philosophically)
Such are the times.
And yet, when I was younger and much prettier,
The jolly hostess of a seedy inn,
I often was a marvelous success
Even with your aristocratic kind.
Say, fellow, do I know you?! My, you seem
Mighty familiar, even in this light.
DON JUAN
(writing)
Away, I said.
THE BAG LADY
That formidable posture,
That haughty look, those eyes sparkling with mischief -
We must have met before.
(a pause)
There is a scar
On your left thigh.
DON JUAN
Please leave. You're most annoying....
What did you say?
(a pause)
Indeed.
(a pause)
Can't be.
THE BAG LADY
Oh, yes.
You are that boy who slew Commander Sanchez.
I know you now. Well, look at you. You've changed.
That noble gray in your once jet-black locks
Is an improvement, surely; and your wrist
Is firmer now, I'm certain. You've acquired
A touch of wisdom in your look. Most charming.
Well, on my part, you see, I'm out of training.
Once famous for my looks and easy ways,
I used to keep an inn; now I am ruined.
They like a hostess who is young and fresh;
They're all the same - all! commoners and nobles;
The beauty of experience is lost
On them completely. Bastards. I don't blame them.
Bless them - let them enjoy it while they can
As best they can. Now, how about some silver?
Don Juan takes out some silver, gives it to her.
THE BAG LADY
I thank you kindly.
DON JUAN
Go away.
THE BAG LADY
So rude!
She leaves.
DON JUAN
Talk if you would of aging gracefully.
Well, almost finished. Two more lines. Let's do it.
(writes)
Enter Don Diego.
DON DIEGO
Sесоr Don Juan!
DON JUAN
Yes, yes. Wait. Just a second.
DON DIEGO
(sonorously)
Shall we begin?
DON JUAN
(writing)
Yes, presently.
Don Diego draws his sword.
DON DIEGO
I have
No time to waste.
DON JUAN
(turns to him)
Sooner or later, sir,
You'll burn in hell, so what's another moment
To you?
DON DIEGO
I beg to differ. I intend
To send you there ahead of me.
DON JUAN
To be
Your scout?
DON DIEGO
Unworthy wretch!
DON JUAN
Do cease, Sесоr,
Your protestations. Look, this is important,
For it concerns your sister.
DON DIEGO
Scoundrel! What!
My sister, too! Interminably wicked!
DON JUAN
Yes, I'm a scoundrel. All you gentlemen
Are proper, kindly, virtuous, and devoted.
Which is, perhaps, why I'm the only one
Who's thought of dedicating a few verses
To Dona Anna. I'm the ghastly villain
Who dares to offer love where pity's due,
A gallant's kiss by way of sympathy,
A husband's hand where one would click one's tongue
Apologetically, and turn away.
My villainy shall soon be duly punished,
I see. Be careful. Pious ecstasy
Might cause you mischief yet.
DON DIEGO
Dare you provoke me!
DON JUAN
However scanty, sir, your education
Ought to enable you to tell apart -
For, take my word for it, it's no great art -
A threat - to warn you - and a provocation
To make you fight.
DON DIEGO
On guard, sir.
He thrusts. Don Juan jumps back, draws.
DON JUAN
Steady, steady!
I'm glad I've made my point. Well, when you're ready.
They fight. Don Juan disarms Don Diego.
DON JUAN
You've dropped your sword, it seems. Pray pick it up.
Don Diego does. Don Juan disarms him again.
DON JUAN
Ah, you're so clumsy. Well, let's try again.
They do. Don Juan wounds Diego in the shoulder. The latter drops his sword.
DON JUAN
Now that you've had your fun, Sесоr, please leave.
DON DIEGO
Villain.
DON JUAN
Oh, really, spare me your objections.
You came here to defend Rodrigo's honor.
You have defended it, though somewhat clumsily.
What more, pray, do you want? And, if it is
My company, then - well, I must decline.
Your talk is utterly unstimulating.
Have a physician dress your wound, and have
A good night's rest. Tomorrow, you'll feel better.
Adieu, Sесоr.
DON DIEGO
Stay, libertine!
(draws his dagger)
This dagger
I pulled from Don Rodrigo's chest.
DON JUAN
Indeed.
Well, good for you. I give you my permission
From now on to regard it as your own.
Dispose, then, of it as you like. You could
Use it to plug a certain orifice
Too private to be named. Adieu, Sесоr.
Don Diego throws him a terrible look, leaves staggering. Don Juan returns to his poem. Conchita comes out, but before he has time to notice her, Leporello runs in, agitated, wearing a nobleman's clothes - and she hides again.
LEPORELLO
Sесоr, Sесоr!
DON JUAN
Ah, Leporello!
LEPORELLO
Whew!
So glad to see you. You're alive and well.
DON JUAN
Indeed, my friend. Why?
LEPORELLO
I just heard, my lord,
That Don Diego, sword in hand, was looking
For you.
DON JUAN
What then?
LEPORELLO
I rushed to intervene.
DON JUAN
You did? Are you, perchance, of noble birth?
Is there a title I don't know about?
You take too much upon yourself, my friend.
During the following exchange, Conchita slips from behind the statue and steals away unnoticed.
LEPORELLO
I merely do my best to serve your lordship.
DON JUAN
What's with the costume?
LEPORELLO
This? Oh. My disguise.
I was afraid of being recognized.
DON JUAN
(amused)
What was I thinking! Sure. Don Leporello,
The most illustrious valet in Spain
In order to conceal his true identity
Must wear the rich dress of a cavalier.
So simple, yet so brilliant.
LEPORELLO
Thank you. Now....
DON JUAN
There must be something terribly important
At hand, that you should fear being discovered.
I hate to interrupt you, for I'm sure that
Your enterprises of great pitch and moment
Are more important than the little errand
You'll have to run for me; and yet, I must
Insist. Here, take this letter to her castle;
And, once you're done, unseal this little note
And read it carefully; you'll find it curious.
LEPORELLO
Whose castle?
DON JUAN
Dona Anna's. What's the matter?
LEPORELLO
Her brother, sir....
DON JUAN
There's been an accident.
He pricked his shoulder on my sword.
LEPORELLO
I knew it!
Arrangement of affairs, my master's forte.
The husband's dead, the brother wounded; now
Send Leporello to the grieving widow
With a love note! She'll die of happiness.
DON JUAN
Hush! She must not know who I am. You hear?
Don Pedro is my name.
LEPORELLO
Why, that is wise.
I'm not the only one with a disguise.
DON JUAN
Well, go.
LEPORELLO
Sесоr, you scorn the living, but
Surely you must respect the dead!
DON JUAN
What, the
Whole lot of them, pray, or someone specific?
LEPORELLO
Him!
(points at the statue)
DON JUAN
(gives the statue an appraising look)
Oh! Indeed, I do respect him.
LEPORELLO
Not really. Or, at least, it doesn't show.
DON JUAN
Pray what is it you'd like to see me do?
Invite this chunk of marble trash for dinner?
LEPORELLO
Well, anything is better than contempt.
DON JUAN
Have it your way! I'm getting married shortly....
LEPORELLO
(his eyes flash; joyously)
Married, my lord?
DON JUAN
Yes. Either that - or death.
Love at my age could not withstand rejection.
LEPORELLO
Who is the bride, my lord?
DON JUAN
Why, Dona Anna
Of course, you fool!
LEPORELLO
Oh, no! Reflect, my lord!
She's past child-bearing.
DON JUAN
What is that to me?
Besides, one never knows until one's tried.
I am in love! Hot tears shed by a man
Who'd never wept before are proof enough
Of the heart-rending purity of feeling.
LEPORELLO
Pray reconsider!
DON JUAN
Hush. My mind's made up.
However, since tomorrow I'll be dining
With Dona Anna at her place, suppose
I should invite this heap of stone to join us?
LEPORELLO
What blasphemy, my lord!
DON JUAN
A gesture, merely.
If that is not respect, what is? Now, go
And tell him that I'll be expecting him.
LEPORELLO
Whom?
DON JUAN
Why, the statue.
LEPORELLO
What astounding madness!
DON JUAN
Go on!
LEPORELLO
No way!
DON JUAN
What, are you superstitious?
A bit of thrashing, then, might make you braver.
LEPORELLO
Please don't. I go.
DON JUAN
Ah, good.
Leporello approaches the statue.
LEPORELLO
(to the statue)
Noble Sесоr!
My master's whims are known throughout this land.
He means well, I assure you. Like, for instance,
The other day, he wooed a local girl,
The daughter of a farmer....
DON JUAN
Make it brief.
You have a letter to deliver, mind you.
LEPORELLO
(to Don Juan)
Look here, you have your own style; I have mine.
(to the statue)
So! With all due respect, I must, Sесоr,
Obey my master's orders. I see how
It might be difficult for stone to travel;
The laws of gravity and locomotion
Cannot be disregarded easily.
It seems, however, that your noble widow,
Who is intent on throwing dinner parties
For rogues and libertines, gives her permission
To Don Juan here to bring a friend. And since
I hardly qualify as one, he wonders -
Not I! He! - whether you would not be busy
Tomorrow night.... Ah! ah! My Lord!
DON JUAN
What now?
LEPORELLO
I thought it moved just now.
DON JUAN
Your eloquence
Could move a mountain, let alone a statue.
To me, you sound just like a politician.
Long-winded speeches, meaningless, and boring,
A mere excuse for being dull and idle,
For taking money from the honest man
And rendering no true service in return.
You make me sick! Confounded cowardice!
Look, it's so simple. Watch me, imbecile.
(approaches the statue)
Commander, join me for a modest meal
At Dona Anna's place tomorrow night.
THE STATUE
(thunderously)
I WILL.
Don Juan and Leporello spring back.
DON JUAN
(drawing his sword)
See how effective simple words can be?...
A pause.
LEPORELLO
I'm gonna die.
DON JUAN
Indeed, you do surprise me.
I thought you were immortal.
LEPORELLO
Master, please,
Let's leave this place. Let's show our countrymen
That, great though he once was, Sесоr Columbus
Was not the only one who could discover
New continents.
DON JUAN
Shut up. You have the letter.
Deliver it. I'll see you at the inn.
He leaves.
LEPORELLO
I cannot move! Letter! I'm not a mailman!
Ah, villain! Traitor! Coward!
Enter Ottavio.
OTTAVIO
Ah, it's you!
Where is your master, my good man?
LEPORELLO
Ottavio?
Oh, thank you! thank you! Someone sane, at last.
My master is a sordid libertine,
A perfect demon!
OTTAVIO
Yes. Why serve him, then?
LEPORELLO
Quite right! Greed is my downfall, good Ottavio!
I am of noble birth.
OTTAVIO
You are?
LEPORELLO
I am.
A long, long time ago I made a promise
To that rogue's uncle that I'd see to it
That their line would not perish. Greed, Ottavio.
The uncle put it in his ghastly will
That on the day Don Juan's first child was born,
I would inherit half of his estate.
My own relations being all impoverished,
I eagerly agreed. And thereupon
I had to, for as long as it would take,
Look after him; protect him, follow him
Wherever he had half-a-mind to go.
What better way than to become his servant?
Now, all is lost! For Dona Anna could
No longer bear a child. Or could she? Oh,
How cruel is my lot!
OTTAVIO
What? Dona Anna?!
LEPORELLO
He's set to marry her, the filthy rogue.
OTTAVIO
A lifetime's hope is shattered.
LEPORELLO
That's correct.
OTTAVIO
Ah! All is lost.
LEPORELLO
The property and income.
OTTAVIO
Tomorrow I was going to propose.
Would throw myself at Dona Anna's feet,
Would kiss the hem of her beloved dress,
Would sing her beauty, soak her hand in tears.
Alas!
LEPORELLO
Alas! He could have married briefly
Some wench, bred her a child, and left. Why not?
Men do it all the time - so, why not he?
And I - I would have had my half-estate,
My income, even my good name! The rogue!
OTTAVIO
The demon!
LEPORELLO
Oh, the libertine!
OTTAVIO
The beast!
A pause.
LEPORELLO
It has been prophesied that I should gain
Salvation if I wed a fallen woman
And bring her back into the world of virtue.
Plenty of fallen women here; however
How can I bring one where I've never been?
I wouldn't know my way around.... And yet....
(a pause; judiciously)
But why two missives? Did I hear him say
That one of them was - what? addressed to me?
To me! Since when, pray, has it been a custom
For lord and servant to communicate
In writing? Is he mad? I shouldn't wonder.
He unseals one of the scrolls, reads the first few lines, suddenly presses the letter to his chest, staring into space wildly.
OTTAVIO
Revenge? Bah! I am not Diego. Death?
LEPORELLO
(clutching the letter, looking around at the statue)
I - can't - believe - my - eyes! I must be dreaming.
OTTAVIO
I must be dreaming. What an awful dream!
LEPORELLO
Such dreams are rare - why, I must not awaken!
OTTAVIO
Such nightmares can be fatal; wake and rise.
Oh, Dona Anna!
LEPORELLO
(suddenly realizing)
Why, but you're in love!
This Dona Anna must be quite a lass
To occupy so many people's thoughts.
OTTAVIO
What should I do?
LEPORELLO
Off hand, I'd say, get drunk.
OTTAVIO
I might as well. That inn just down the road
Must be forever the poor poet's lot.
Still better than the noose up in the attic.
LEPORELLO
Right. For a man of rhymes, you're too pragmatic,
My dear young friend. Such are the times, they say.
OTTAVIO
I'm off, then.
LEPORELLO
Yes, yes, please. Do go away.
Ottavio leaves.
LEPORELLO
Reality or dreamland? Truth or fiction?
Whose game? Darkness or light? Whose jurisdiction?
Read it again? I'm frightened. Come what may!
Success was long in coming. What a day.
He reads. Don Juan's voice resounds through the loud speaker.
DON JUAN'S VOICE
The ghastly sinner called Sесоr Don Juan,
A humble scion of the house of Alba,
I hearby do declare that, being clear
Of mind, and sound of body, I have made
My will. A certain enterprise which I
Propose to undertake tomorrow will be
In my near future the deciding factor.
Thus, should I fail, as well I might, my plan
Is to become a monk; in which event
All I possess - my money, my estate,
My horses and my ship must pass to him
Who trades under the name of Leporello.
We've known each other for some twenty years;
We have been friends.
LEPORELLO
Oh, my!
DON JUAN'S VOICE
Though he believes -
A queer attempt at self-justification -
That he has stuck with me through thick and thin
Only to satisfy his greed; that petty hopes
Of gold and fame sustain his loyalty.
He is in error. We've traversed the world,
We've shared, as equals will, clothes, meals, and lodgings;
I would assume, unless I'm much mistaken,
That once or twice we've even shared a woman.
Dear Leporello, as my only friend,
Must promise, in exchange for my donation,
To see to it that, when I die, my body
Be laid to rest under the convent's threshold,
That all who cross it might debase my bones,
For I have sinned; and that no name be carved
Upon my tomb. However, should I live
And love tomorrow night, my Leporello
Is still entitled to whatever portion
Of my commodities he may find useful.
Be happy, friend, if happiness indeed
Is possible under the sun. God bless you.
Just one thing more. Should anything befall
A certain Dona Anna; should she be
In need of money or advice - give both.
A nobleman (which, I suspect, you are,
Though you conceal it for some murky reason)
Must never stoop to arrogance. Your friend,
Companion and compatriot Don Juan.
LEPORELLO
(doubtfully)
Is he in danger? Loyalty indeed!
The incorrigible twaddler! Must I look
For him? What is the rascal up to?
He leaves. Curtain.
SCENE FIVE
The same scene as in Scene One, Act One. Ottavio and Don Juan. A guitar leaned up against the table. Cups, bottles. Ottavio is somewhat drunk and continues drinking.
OTTAVIO
By Jove, you are good company, Don Pedro.
I live again, though barely. Since you know
So many things, tell me - in your opinion,
What kind of man is this Don Juan?
DON JUAN
He's civil,
A gentleman; well-mannered.
OTTAVIO
Yes, but why
This rapid change of attitude? At once
He spares a foe and then he promptly marries?
I've heard so much - Madrid is full of rumors;
This last adventure does not sound like him
At all.
DON JUAN
People do change.
OTTAVIO
Yes, I suppose
They do. And yet.... Only a month ago
What was Don Juan to me? Merely a name.
He's now a giant, man! A gruesome warlock
Of boundless pow'r, but is he real? Is he
Of bone and flesh, like you and I? Can he
Feel hunger?... thirst?...
DON JUAN
Well, he must have some feelings.
OTTAVIO
You are too good, Don Pedro.
Enter Conchita.
OTTAVIO
Sister, here!
Dear sister - let me introduce you. Come.
This is my friend Don Pedro.
(to Don Juan)
Look, Conchita
Though still a child, is spoiled beyond salvation.
Mental debauchery, outward propriety,
A certain primness of one's ways: that's our society.
CONCHITA
Ottavio....
OTTAVIO
(quite drunk)
But you see, a woman's nature
Must have an outlet....
CONCHITA
(to Don Juan)
Pardon me, my lord.
My brother always acts like this when he
Is suff'ring from a broken heart. I didn't
Quite hear your name.
DON JUAN
Don Pedro, Sесоrita,
Quite at your service.
OTTAVIO
(to Don Juan)
Imagine, poor Conchita is so eager
To brighten up her dull life with romance,
She seems to have decided she's in love
With - whom d'you think? Don Juan! She's never seen him
Except in dreams....
CONCHITA
You are mistaken, Brother.
We've met, Don Juan and I.
OTTAVIO
Yes, in your dreams.
CONCHITA
No, in reality.
OTTAVIO
But when?
CONCHITA
Just now.
OTTAVIO
(an attempt at livening)
He's in the neighborhood?
CONCHITA
Indeed he is.
OTTAVIO
Well, what's he like, tell me?
CONCHITA
(looking Don Juan in the eye)
He's short and fat.
He's elderly, he has no teeth; he wears
A simple dress.
DON JUAN
(to Conchita, pointedly)
Only one leg, I think.
CONCHITA
A patch over his right eye....
DON JUAN
...while the left one
Is missing altogether.
CONCHITA
A big belly.
OTTAVIO
(drunkenly)
But if he be such a repugnant knave,
How come, then....
CONCHITA
Well, you see, a woman's nature
Must have an outlet.
Ottavio drops his head on the table and falls asleep.
DON JUAN
Finally! I say,
A moralist can never hold his liquor.
CONCHITA
It's true, though.
DON JUAN
What?
CONCHITA
Those ghastly things he said
About my character. I am a prude,
A hypocrite, a swindler, and a liar.
DON JUAN
It takes all kinds to make the world.
CONCHITA
And you?
DON JUAN
I - what?
CONCHITA
You aren't quite a prude, I grant you.
But all those other traits? Where is your servant?
DON JUAN
I don't know what to tell you.
CONCHITA
It's quite simple.
Just offer me your hand and lead me through
That door - the guest room, I believe, or is it?
(a pause)
Didn't this wretch just tell you that I loved you?
And didn't I myself confirm it promptly?
I love you, Juan.
DON JUAN
I wouldn't put it past you.
A shrewd disguise is worth exactly nothing;
Serfs turn aristocrats; and marble talks.
A sure sign that the world has lost its mind,
Or I mine. Women love you sight unseen,
A moralist calls you his friend - what else
Is there in store for me?
CONCHITA
A song.
She rises, picks up the guitar, sits on the table, strums.
DON JUAN
A song?
CONCHITA
I know some new ones. Would you like to hear
An old one, though? I reckon it was written
Ere I was born. It's very soothing. Listen.
She begins to sing.
CONCHITA
(sings)
....So young and fair,
She was eager to hear....
Don Juan springs to his feet. Conchita falls silent.
DON JUAN
I'll never change. It's hopeless. But at least
I know it now. I might as well admit
That there's no longer room for me in Spain.
Tomorrow, then, aboard a chartered ship....
CONCHITA
You've heard this song before?
DON JUAN
I will not ruin
Her life with my abominable presence.
Tomorrow.... Should I pay a farewell visit?
Bah! What's the use? Futility and weakness!
And selfishness. This is my lot.
(to Conchita, as an answer to her cue)
....I wrote it.
CONCHITA
I thought as much.
DON JUAN
You seem to do a lot
Of thinking in your spare time. Yet, I like you.
CONCHITA
You like me? Why?
DON JUAN
Your opalescent beauty,
The quickness of your eye, the graceful wrist,
Your voice - have stirred in me a host of feelings
Which I cannot resist.
CONCHITA
You find me pretty?
DON JUAN
Astonishingly so. But there's much more
Than vulgar beauty in your charming image.
You're vital, bold, impetuous, strong, and tender.
You're life itself.
He comes up to her, walks around her, stands behind her and speaks into her ear in an undertone.
DON JUAN
Alluring and inspiring,
You're every poet's dream. You're very pretty.
You are.... well.... pretty. Yes. Pretty's the word.
(waits for inspiration; none comes)
Pretty is what you are. Yes. Very pretty.
This is no good.
He steps away from her. She turns around, amazed, still expectant, a little impatient.
CONCHITA
Well, what's the matter now?
DON JUAN
No good at all. There is a limit, surely,
To one's abasement! There! I've had enough!
Heavy stomping off-stage.
CONCHITA
Anything wrong?
DON JUAN
What is that sound?
CONCHITA
What sound?
The stomping is louder.
DON JUAN
That - damn it! Marble walking! Look, Conchita....
He looks tentatively at the door, approaches her again.
DON JUAN
Your eyes - abysmal, full of love and life!
I've never seen such eyes! And then, your lips
Are coral lips, and then....
The stomping ceases.
DON JUAN
(listening intently)
So, that's the trick!
He's gone. Conchita!
CONCHITA
(eagerly)
Yes?
DON JUAN
Come here, my love.
And have a drink with me. And sing a song.
She comes close to him, dragging the guitar on the floor. He takes her free hand, bends and kisses it.
The lights fade briefly, come on again. It is an hour later. Ottavio is still asleep at the table. Conchita is sitting on Don Juan's lap; they are kissing languidly.
CONCHITA
I love you so. Oh, darling, take me, take me!
He lifts her in his arms and rises; he walks somewhat unsteadily towards the door, center stage. Both laugh.
The lights fade again. The main theme from the ballad plays softly. A beam of light strikes the backdrop. It is morning. Ottavio moans, continueds to asleep at the table. Don Juan comes out of the center-stage door, carrying his doublet, his cloak, his boots, his sword, and his hat. He looks around furtively, sees Ottavio, shrugs, begins hastily to dress. He leaves quickly without once turning around.
Ottavio wakes up. He moans, straightens with difficulty. Conchita walks out of the guest room slowly, clad in a semblance of a nightshirt.
CONCHITA
Morning.... The sun....
OTTAVIO
Oh, yes. Ouch!
CONCHITA
Yes. He's gone.
OTTAVIO
Who?
CONCHITA
(with helpless malice)
Why, the gentleman.
OTTAVIO
Don Pedro?
CONCHITA
....Yes.
OTTAVIO
Oh, yes. He is. I see. And I was going
To follow him, except I fell asleep.
What time is it? Why are you here, Conchita?
Last night, what were we drinking here? My head
Is going to explode.
CONCHITA
Ottavio dear,
You are ridiculous.
OTTAVIO
I cannot help it.
CONCHITA
I thought you were in love.
OTTAVIO
Indeed I am.
It is annoying, though, that love should sharpen
At once all senses. Hence, acute hangovers
Will always follow nights of tortured bliss.
I suffer, have a drink, suffer some more -
And then - this.
CONCHITA
Poor Ottavio. So devoted,
So loyal and so generous! You know,
I might have something to confess, should you
Be willing to attend.
OTTAVIO
Well.... Ouch! My head!
Yes, darling. What?
CONCHITA
It's just occurred to me
That in the whole wide world, no one but you
Has ever loved me.
Ottavio forces himself to think.
OTTAVIO
Yes. What then?
CONCHITA
And now,
You have your tragedy as I have mine.
I've sipped the wine; I know what bliss is like.
I stole my moment from fate's pocketbook;
You chose to follow your convictions. You
Refused to steal. The enlightened thief, however,
Is just as sick as the benighted martyr,
For bliss is unattainable for either
Of them. Where does this leave us?
OTTAVIO
Bliss? What bliss?
Why are you dressed like this?
CONCHITA
Me? Dressed? Oh, come.
OTTAVIO
(realizing)
Has something happened?
CONCHITA
Yes.
OTTAVIO
And you were.... willing?
CONCHITA
Of course.
OTTAVIO
Don Pedro?
CONCHITA
Who? Oh, yes. Don Pedro.
OTTAVIO
The scoundrel!
CONCHITA
Why? I tell you I was willing.
She moves a carafe of wine towards herself, takes the ring off her finger, twists it, letting the contents of a hidden cavity drop into the wine.
OTTAVIO
What are you up to, sister? What's that?
CONCHITA
Poison.
Want some?
They look each other in the eye.
OTTAVIO
You frighten me.
CONCHITA
Do I? Not really.
What is the point in living like you do?
You'll never have that which you covet most.
It would be impolite of us to hinder
Your Anna's and my Juan's sweet happiness
With our grim presence. We shall die for them,
Bravely and quietly. Right here. Right now.
OTTAVIO
Don Juan?
CONCHITA
He and the swordsman of last night
With whom you shared a cup of wine are one.
A pause.
OTTAVIO
(smiting his brow)
Of course! I'm such a fool! You knew it, though?
CONCHITA
Of course I did.
OTTAVIO
And still you were quite willing?
CONCHITA
Yes.
OTTAVIO
What a scoundrel!
CONCHITA
No.
OTTAVIO
You want to die?
CONCHITA
Of course. Do you imagine I'd endure
A lifetime in the house of Don Diego
Now that I've known Don Juan?
OTTAVIO
He hasn't changed, then.
Anna is free!
CONCHITA
Ah, is she? Think again.
If she has loved him - which is very likely -
Do you imagine she might look at you
Once, never mind regard you as her husband?
You're mad, you know.
OTTAVIO
You're right. Oh, you're so right.
The poison, then?...
CONCHITA
....is ready. Here's your cup.
She pours two cups. They each take one, raise them.
OTTAVIO
My final drink.
CONCHITA
Yes. Here's to love eternal!
Enter Leporello. He assesses the situation quickly.
LEPORELLO
Now, now! You put those down! You hear? At once!
He runs up to them. They look at him uncertainly. He takes their cups from them, sets them down on the table.
LEPORELLO
My friend and master has been here, it seems.
OTTAVIO
Please leave. We have some business to transact.
LEPORELLO
Indeed you do. You'd better sober up.
CONCHITA
How do you know he has been here? Suppose
You should be wrong?
LEPORELLO
Bah! No great mystery
In it. For when I see a half-dressed woman
Staring despondently, and next to her
A man who looks as though he's been cuckolded
Who makes his wine a tiny bit more potent
By introducing poison to his cup,
I daresay I can tell whose brush has painted
The masterpiece. I've missed him, I'm afraid.
Where did he go? Huh? Answer me!
OTTAVIO
My friend,
Is it your place to stay when you've been asked
To leave?
LEPORELLO
No harm, Ottavio. Hold your peace.
Tell me where I might find my master, and
I swear I'll leave you to your childish games.
CONCHITA
But why this urgency to find your master?
What danger is he in? I'm sure he's safe.
LEPORELLO
He who sets out to fight the pow'rs of evil
And seeks not God's assistance can't be safe.
The statue's missing from the pedestal.
A ton of marble wandering at large
Is bound to work some mischief before long.
After delivering my master's note
To his old flame, I wandered here and there
Till daybreak. I was miserable; and then
Returning to the gate of the ancient convent,
I looked - and lo! no statue!
CONCHITA
(to Ottavio, indifferently)
Is he mad?
OTTAVIO
Just slightly.
(to Leporello)
Friend, your master isn't here.
Why don't you try some other place?
LEPORELLO
I will,
After a moment's respite. Ah, my nerves!
You think it's easy roaming lifeless streets
When you might bump into that statue, walking?....
Let me just sit here for a while and think.
He sits. A pause. Leporello looks intently at Conchita.
LEPORELLO
Look, child, do not despair. You're young and pretty.
There will be other men of taste and passion.
CONCHITA
I am engaged.
LEPORELLO
So what? Not everyone
Is an abominable prude; some customs
Become neglected when opposed by instinct.
You'll be disdained by some for having left
The man to whom you made a flippant promise;
But surely others will admire your courage.
CONCHITA
But will they love me?
LEPORELLO
Certainly. Why not?
You need not think of convents.
CONCHITA
Are you wealthy?
LEPORELLO
I might become so before long.
CONCHITA
And noble?
LEPORELLO
Indeed I am.
Conchita rises, walks over to him.
CONCHITA
Then prove what you just said.
LEPORELLO
There's no such thing as trust, I see. What kind
Of proof do you require?
CONCHITA
Why, marry me.
OTTAVIO
(astonished)
Conchita! My dear girl, what are you doing?
A former servant!
CONCHITA
He's of noble birth.
OTTAVIO
He's middle-aged!
CONCHITA
He's younger than Diego;
Besides, how many men d'you think I'll meet
In my lifetime who are as liberal,
Who think but little of prior engagements?
LEPORELLO
Say, stop a bit! I'm not the marrying type!
CONCHITA
Then take me with you as a long-term mistress.
OTTAVIO
For shame, Conchita!
CONCHITA
Now, stay out of this.
Last night, I saved my heart. Now, here's a chance
For me to save my life, my health, my future.
I want to live!
OTTAVIO
(hotly)
Yes, as a fallen woman!
CONCHITA
I'm at a point where public condemnations,
However nicely phrased, scare me no longer.
(to Leporello)
I shall be waiting in the guest rooms. You
May join me if you like. Be brave! Good morning.
She exits through the guest rooms door. Leporello looks at Ottavio mockingly.
OTTAVIO
My friend, don't take her words to heart, I beg you.
She isn't quite herself today. You'll be
Reasonable, I hope?
Leporello's face darkens.
LEPORELLO
I beg your pardon?
OTTAVIO
Well, she's of noble birth!
LEPORELLO
Well, so am I.
OTTAVIO
You don't expect me to believe you, do you?
LEPORELLO
Why not?
OTTAVIO
It is a lie! a fantasy!
True gentlemen never become valets!
LEPORELLO
I was the first one, then.
OTTAVIO
This is absurd.
You are not entering that room!
LEPORELLO
I will, if need be.
What's it to you?
OTTAVIO
She is my sister, man!
LEPORELLO
Now, stop provoking me. Your protestations
Are most annoying. Entering those rooms
Was hardly my concern a flash ago;
With your effrontery and lack of wit
You have insulted me; your arrogance
Is out of place and screamingly uncouth.
I almost feel I must.
OTTAVIO
I will defend her.
LEPORELLO
Against what, pray?
OTTAVIO
Your vile intentions, lecher.
Leporello rises. Ottavio draws his sword.
LEPORELLO
My dear Ottavio, you're a hypocrite,
A coward, and a fool. It never crossed
Your warped mind to defend your precious sister
Against her suitor, who was set to marry
The girl without obtaining her consent;
Nor did you draw when, some six hours ago
A well-known libertine seduced her grossly,
Taking away her honor and good name.
You are incensed, however, when a man
Of whose intentions you're quite ignorant,
Wishes to pass into your sister's bedroom.
You draw because you think that certain kinds
Of liberties towards gentle womenfolk
Are quite permissible to gentlemen,
And yet taboo to plebeians; splendid thinking!
Therefore, you are a hypocrite. A coward
You are because, while never venturing
To measure swords with a notorious fencer
You wish to strike a commoner. A fool
Because the one whom you would think quite common
Is in reality a seasoned swordsman,
An old, well-practiced duelist whose blade
Is second only to his former master's.
OTTAVIO
Fine, then! I'll die defending her, that's all.
LEPORELLO
You'll get yourself most hideously bruised
For nothing, I assure you.
OTTAVIO
Wretch! On guard!
LEPORELLO
You are quite worthy of the gentlefolk;
I give you that; you're just as vain as they,
And just as quarrelsome. A mere rebuff -
And here you wish to vent your silly anger
On someone unconnected with the matter,
Pretending all the while that it's your sister
On whose behalf you're acting.
Ottavio makes an impatient gesture and turns around, vexed. He sheathes his sword.
LEPORELLO
That's better, sir.
OTTAVIO
I go.
LEPORELLO
Far?
OTTAVIO
One last look
At Dona Anna; then - Seville; the sea!
They look at each other. Ottavio nods, leaves quickly.
LEPORELLO
Deuce take the idiot! Now I'm angry. Good!
My fear is gone. The statue? Let it come
And tell me I'm the murderer. What then?
We'll see! But I must never hide again.
Enough of that! I've failed to find Don Juan, though.
His presence always reassures me so.
Enter the Bag Lady.
THE BAG LADY
Hello there, charmer! Spare some change?
LEPORELLO
(noticing her)
Huh? What?
THE BAG LADY
Just a few coins. Faith, you must help the needy.
LEPORELLO
Behind on rent?
THE BAG LADY
Not in the way you think.
LEPORELLO
I'm out of change just now. Let someone else
Resolve your fiscal problems for you.
THE BAG LADY
Man,
You'd be much kinder if you knew....
LEPORELLO
Indeed
I am as kind as my poor health permits.
Good evening, Ma'am.
He puts on his cloak, turns to the exit door.
THE BAG LADY
You're in a hurry, charmer.
Well! I assure you I could be of service
To you. Your name is Leporello; right?
LEPORELLO
It is; what then?
THE BAG LADY
Oh, don't be testy, dear.
In my extensive roaming, I've acquired
A skill or two which other folks would give
An awful lot to have at their disposal.
LEPORELLO
Such as?
THE BAG LADY
Well, I could show you what the future
Has, in all likelihood, in store for those
Who have some influence upon your life.
LEPORELLO
Oh, really? Do so. Here's a golden ducat.
The lights fade somewhat. Don Juan, dressed as a monk, candle in hand, crosses the stage slowly and exits.
THE BAG LADY
Your master's lot. He is a monk, you see.
Don Diego, in a stately costume, with an air of extreme importance, crosses the stage and exits.
THE BAG LADY
There's Don Diego - an important man,
A statesman and a secret councilor.
Conchita, in a luxurious white dress, crosses the stage and exits.
THE BAG LADY
Your bride.
LEPORELLO
My bride?
The lights snap on to full brightness.
THE BAG LADY
Oh, no! It's wrong! It's wrong!
You cannot have her! She's a fallen woman!
LEPORELLO
But I've been told that I....
THE BAG LADY
I know! I know!
Well, am I not a fallen woman also?
Why don't you marry me instead? Look, man,
I may look hideous - I have these wrinkles,
And missing teeth and all; but, though I lost
Some of my former beauty in my face,
I have retained some in my body. Look,
I'll show you.
LEPORELLO
Spare me, woman.
THE BAG LADY
You don't want me?
She laughs drily. Leporello springs to his feet, turns his back to her.
THE BAG LADY
You're right, you know. One cannot well reverse
Revenge when it's been much too long in brewing.
When, on that fateful night, your handsome master
Entered my bedroom, in our throes of love
I knew he had not murdered Don Rodrigo.
He was too gentle then to overpow'r
A seasoned soldier. You're the murderer!
Rodrigo promised me he would arrange
For me my fortune after the campaign.
Infatuation had him in its grip;
He would have scorned the Holy Inquisition,
Defied the Pope himself; and left his wife,
And married me! After his death, they came -
The bailiffs - and the inn was seized; and I
Thereafter was deprived of everything.
For fifteen years, a single thought I've cherished,
A single dream forced my poor broken heart
To beat; I would have died a thousand times
Of hunger, thirst, disease, cold, beatings, scorn
Had I not carried in my mind my vision
Of sweet revenge upon my enemy!
The hour has come!
She produces from her rags a sizable dagger and raises it, aiming at Leporello's back.
Die, wicked creature! Die!
Leporello turns sharply, dagger in hand; it is evident he has been all along aware of the lady's intentions. But the brave avenger cannot move. The dagger falls from her hand.
THE BAG LADY
Ten seconds more! Ah, Satan! You've betrayed me!
She falls and dies. Leporello replaces his own dagger in its sheath, comes over to the corpse, picks up the blade, examines it.
LEPORELLO
Atonement! Here's my chance. Be brave, Conchita.
He drops the dagger and enters the guest rooms. Curtain.
SCENE SIX
Dona Anna's castle. Dona Anna is pacing up and down the stage. Now and then she casts a glance at the unsealed scroll on the table. It is evident that she has already read it, perhaps more than once. There is a sizable dagger on the table, under the portrait of Don Rodrigo. A tower clock off-stage strikes eight.
DONA ANNA
It's evening. Why am I so agitated?
So restless? He has changed. He has grown vulgar.
Or has he? These days, how does one distinguish
Between vulgarity and passion? Where
Is the fine line that ought to separate
Harassment from affection? Goodness gracious!
Anna, my dear, what are you thinking of?
What is this flimsy hesitation for?
Destroy the brazen note and bolt the door!
She sits down, picks up the scroll. Presently, she begins to read, frowning.
DON JUAN'S VOICE
(in the loudspeaker)
A shining blade, quite unexpected,
Surged through my night.
Dead feelings ventured, resurrected,
Into the light.
That blazing stripe of dawn! Life, being
To all intents
A senseless corpse, now started seeing
And making sense.
Of scarlet silk, of Eastern fashions
That never fade,
Of Northern mists and Southern passions
My love is made.
One's set to rip one's song apart, lest
It should get free.
Chaste Anna, one would be quite heartless
To laugh at me.
A thousand grim and dismal forces
That won't allow
A moment's rest my poor resources
Oppose me now.
In this atrocious game, whose players
Had marked their man,
Who answered whose unuttered prayers, then,
Sweet Ann?
I've failed to recognize the pattern
And, come what may,
I'm looking for my long-lost lantern
To light the way.
Of all the winding paths, some deadly,
Some much longed-for,
Which was the one that might have lead me
To Anna's door?
She, whose half-hearted, mild confessions
Were salt and wine;
Whose fragile hand throughout our session
Would not touch mine.
Most frigid ladies of the jury:
Look if you must.
My bitter tears of helpless fury
And love. And lust.
The eye of chance, sterile and glassy
Silenced my groan.
I never kissed in tender passing
Her collar bone.
My cheek was never pressed, flushed, scorching,
Against her thigh.
Into her knee I breathed no tortured,
Half-sobbing sigh.
Of lust we never drank our lavish
And fervent dose.
My tongue left totally unravished
Her gentle toes.
I, who, alas, was never granted
A say in this,
Upon her instep never planted
An eager kiss.
The tune twangs, and the vision lingers
In queer accord;
Her palms and wrists and perfect fingers
Are unexplored.
We never braved, entwined and pining,
The sweeping tide.
She never thrashed, eyes damp and shining
With me inside.
Chaste Ann! whose nipples never hardened
Against my chest;
To whose half-parted lips mine, ardent,
I never pressed,
Who so reluctantly denied me
Her cloudy charms;
Who rested neither just beside me,
Nor in my arms.
The dirk of Chance is cold and steady;
Yes - why pretend? -
Much harder hearts than mine have dreaded
Its stinging end.
For all on earth that is as gentle
As you are fine, -
Real, divine, or transcendental:
Sweet love, be mine.
A pause.
A FEMALE VOICE OFF-STAGE
Don Pedro, Madam.
DONA ANNA
Show him in.
Some amiable laughter off stage; Don Juan enters, turns to the maid, says,
DON JUAN
My pleasure.
(to Dona Anna)
Good evening, Dona Anna.
DONA ANNA
Pray come in.
DON JUAN
I'll only be a moment.
DONA ANNA
I should hope so.
Seducers do not take rejection lightly.
It hurts their pride.
DON JUAN
You are too kind, Sесоra.
DONA ANNA
Won't you sit down?
DON JUAN
I might as well; I thank you.
He sits. A pause.
DONA ANNA
And so?
DON JUAN
I beg your pardon for the crude,
Villainous way I spoke to you; it was
Unworthy of my feeling towards you.
DONA ANNA
Feeling?
DON JUAN
Come, Anna - we're no longer frantic children
Drunk on the springtime air. We've had our share
Of blunders and confusion. Youth will make
A mess of words and meanings; connotations
Change on a whim. Not so with us. We know
The full weight of each word we choose to utter,
The entire significance of views and notions,
The complete meaning of our sentiments.
DONA ANNA
Since yesterday?
DON JUAN
I fail to see....
DONA ANNA
I merely
Allude to the unhappy fact that your
Maturity was rather long in coming.
DON JUAN
Oh yes, reproach me - you have every right
To do so.
DONA ANNA
Do I? With regard to me,
Except for yesterday, your conduct, sir,
Has been beyond reproach. For, after all,
Back when I was young, gullible, and weak,
Your hasty and mysterious departure
Helped save my honor.
DON JUAN
Well, my consolation,
Is - lives and heart aches notwithstanding -
That, upon leaving you a second time,
I leave you with your honor still intact.
If you do love me, though....
DONA ANNA
Love you?
DON JUAN
My word!
Why don't we stop pretending! Love me, yes.
DONA ANNA
I don't remember making a confession
To that effect.
DON JUAN
So much the worse. However,
The fifteen years of utter solitude
Are proof enough.
DONA ANNA
I'm happy that you think
So highly of yourself, Don Pedro. Pray
Continue your fine speech.
DON JUAN
I've come to say
Farewell. Let's part as friends.
DONA ANNA
You're leaving, then.
DON JUAN
Forever, Dona Anna.
DONA ANNA
And that poem?
DON JUAN
A mere nostalgic message from the past,
An echo of that other man, much younger,
Much more sincere - although far less in love
Than the contemporary version. Burn it.
DONA ANNA
Farewell, then.
DON JUAN
Yes, farewell.
(he stands)
Just one thing more.
Of all the subtle, intricate disguises,
Of masks and veils, youth is the subtlest one.
Only when age removes it from one's face
Can its true beauty be discerned. I say
I've never seen, nor will I see again
Features quite so appealing as yours are.
If there's a second woman in the world
Resembling you in beauty, heart, and merit -
I wish her, above all, that someone might
Love her as much as I love you. And now,
Before I leave, I must demand an answer.
Oh, no! Not that I'm nursing silly hopes,
Or deem myself deserving of the honor;
I am a stickler, though, for art and form;
A wretched pedant who won't see the door
Unless it's shown him. Will you marry me?
DONA ANNA
Oh, no. Of course not.
A pause.
DON JUAN
No?
DONA ANNA
No.
DON JUAN
And.... why not?
DONA ANNA
After my husband's death, in morbid anguish,
I made myself two vital promises.
One was that I would find and bring to trial
His murderer. The other, that I'd never
Marry again someone I did not love.
DON JUAN
Sесоra, please forgive me. I must go.
Your reasons are commendable indeed;
Yours is the mind, then, of a true logician,
Your wisdom does transcend your age and beauty.
Farewell, Sесоra.
DONA ANNA
You're so quick to leave!
DON JUAN
You'd understand, if you harbored for me
A tenth of the mad passion that is now
Tearing my chest.
DONA ANNA
Still, you are impolite.
I did not say I wanted you to go
Just yet.
DON JUAN
What more is there to say or do?
Please, Dona Anna.
DONA ANNA
Grace this hapless widow
With but another minute of your time.
I'd like to ask you something.
DON JUAN
(impatiently)
Ask it then.
Be quick!
DONA ANNA
Tell me, Sесоr, what is your name?
DON JUAN
Don Pedro.
DONA ANNA
No; the real one.
DON JUAN
But why?
DONA ANNA
Because I need to know.
DON JUAN
I cannot tell you.
What good would knowing it do you? It's been
Mixed up in thousands of unpleasant matters.
I am a monster, really. I'm a beast,
A brute, a villain, and a libertine.
DONA ANNA
At least you have admitted that Don Pedro
Is a fictitious person.
DON JUAN
Bless his heart!
He wrote some poems, leaving me to suffer
The consequences. Ha! In all these years
The rascal hasn't aged a day. What luck!
He served me well and long; at last, he blundered,
Exposed his master and betrayed his craft
By seeking substance and gratification
Where none was due. Fictitious characters
Must not expect a genuine reward.
DONA ANNA
Your name, then?
DON JUAN
Why - why do you want to know?
You have refused. How can it matter now
What name I bear?
DONA ANNA
I want to know the truth.
DON JUAN
But why?
DONA ANNA
I want to hear it from your lips.
DON JUAN
Ah, Dona Anna! Torture me no more!
You don't know what you're asking. Let me be.
DONA ANNA
Your name!
DON JUAN
Don Juan.
Dona Anna grabs the dagger from the table, approaches him. He does not move.
DONA ANNA
At last!
DON JUAN
(indifferently)
Why, that's a dagger.
Dona Anna places it against his throat.
DONA ANNA
Your death.
DON JUAN
Why, do it, Dona Anna! Do it!
DONA ANNA
For all these years of my unceasing torture,
For all you've caused me to endure, for this
Repugnant place; the dreams defiled and shattered,
The guilt that to this day gnaws at my heart,
The unfulfilled abominable passion,
The tears, the sobs, the wounds, the sleepless nights,
For all this, you must die!
DON JUAN
Then do it! Do it!
A pause. She drops the knife on the floor and walks away. He sinks into his chair. A very long, painful pause. They are not looking at each other. Presently, she turns, approaches him, and kisses him on the lips. She walks away again and stands at the right wing, not looking at him. He continues sitting, petrified.
DONA ANNA
One does look younger in a wedding dress.
A pause.
DON JUAN
(smiling tentatively)
A pair of rings.
DONA ANNA
A veil.
DON JUAN
A priest.
DONA ANNA
A carriage.
DON JUAN
Seville.
DONA ANNA
Or Italy.
DON JUAN
Or France.
DONA ANNA
Or Sweden.
Heavy stomping off stage.
DON JUAN
What's that?
The stomping is louder.
DON JUAN
What's that?!! The Statue!
DONA ANNA
Juan!
The lights fade. A spotlight on Don Juan. He clutches his head, then straightens abruptly, rapidly drawing his sword. The stomping is deafening now. Don Juan drops the sword, clutches his head again. Don Diego is in the room - a spotlight on him. He is holding a dagger in his hand. Abruptly, silence.
DON DIEGO
I pulled this dagger from Rodrigo's chest.
Fresh blood on it. The first blow killed a man.
The second one preserves a woman's virtue.
He makes as if to stab Don Juan. The latter does not move. Don Diego throws the dagger at Don Juan's feet, walks out stage-left. Lights. Don Juan stares at the dagger, then lifts his gaze and sees Dona Anna, prostrate, motionless. He rushes to her, falls on his knees.
DON JUAN
Sweet Anna, rise! Dear angel, I repent!
Oh, don't be silent! Tell me that you love me!
The lights are dimmed. Two monks walk in slowly, carrying candles. One of them has a spare cloak, with a hood. A pause. Don Juan rises slowly, takes the cloak from him. His sword suddenly slips out of his shoulder belt, falling on the floor. He stands motionless for a while. Presently, he puts on the cloak, takes the candle from one of the monks.
Curtain.
THE END
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