Scene One
Madrid. A room in Doña ANA's house. Dawn is breaking; there is little light in the room.
Doña ANA and CELIA enter, with the DUKE and Don JUAN, still dressed as coachmen, Don JUAN hiding behind the DUKE
ANA: But don't you see what you have done? How can you be so calm? DUKE: Please, Put your lovely heart at ease, No need to fear for us now--none! That gentleman won't make a fuss; Once we provide the evidence That he intended violence-- I'm sure the verdict will favor us. Besides it might be better for His reputation not to speak. Don't think a gentleman must seek For satisfaction when there's more At stake than justice. Don't you see How badly it would sound if such A glorious lord--who owns so much And can command so many--would be Forced to confess to the world that he Was wounded by the arm--most base!-- Of a lowly coachman? In such a case, Silence is the safest remedy. ANA: I feel so deeply in your debt For your uncommon bravery, The fear that you're in jeopardy From him has made me quite upset. DUKE: Don't be. ANA: A heart that's true must be Prepared to suffer. DUKE: But if a man Has wounded Mendo once, he can Defend himself quite easily. CELIA: (Their deeds are of such gallantry, To ANA Their speech so courteous and judicious That I begin to be suspicious Of these coachmen.) ANA: (Then try to see To CELIA Their hands. Their hands will tell us true.) CELIA: Indeed, señora, surely you know You must repay the debt you owe Them for their loyalty to you. Your fate was in these hands, and there Your honor was defended and Kept safe. (Upon my life, that hand, To ANA Señora, was smooth as silk, I swear! And I could tell when I was near, How sweetly both of them did smell.) ANA: (Sweet odors and sweet hands as well-- To CELIA I think the evidence is clear. But don't let on.) CELIA: (The other one To ANA Just hides inside his cloak and stares-- I'll try to catch him unawares. Here comes the sun--it's almost dawn And bright enough to see his face.) ANA: My friends, you've risked so much for me, Though not obliged to do it--be My guests--all my estate I place At your disposal. My house it at Your service. DUKE: I'm honored to have been Your servant--but I can't come in. Besides, you're wrong in thinking that We weren't obliged. It is the duty Of all the world--in a way-- To honor, worship, and obey Your extraordinary beauty. You give to him who comes to see Your face such joy, that though he pay You with his life, yet must he stay Your debtor in perpetuity. CELIA: (And you there, coachman--nothing to say? To JUAN Why be so sad? Get over it! Come on, cheer up--and learn a bit Of courage from your partner today! A man who fought so fearlessly-- Are you now too weak to fight your fear?) DUKE: You're wasting your time with this one here-- The man's a mute. CELIA: (He may well be-- Aside But now I think I recognize Don Juan de Mendoza--absolutely! Poor thing--he'd rather stand there mutely Than lose the pleasure his disguise Allows him to enjoy like this!) (Who do you think that this might be, To ANA Señora--the quiet one? ANA: You tell me. CELIA: No, really, who do you think it is? ANA: I have no idea. CELIA: I wonder who-- Who'd stoop to be a coachman, though He's nobly born and bred, just so He might get one good look at you? Who'd fight with so much bravery In such a dangerous escapade, Baring his breast unto the blade Just to preserve your honesty? Who'd joy in suffering for your love? Who'd seek the scorn he dotes upon? Who could it be? Who but Don Juan De Mendoza could we be speaking of? ANA: You're right--of course. Who else would go To such extremes of courtesy? CELIA: Which earns a reward--it seems to me. ANA: He won't be disappointed, you know. DUKE: The sun now rises in the sky; Since you who were so kind to be The whole world's shining sun while he Reposed, now take your rest. Good-bye. And may the gracious heavens deign To give you length of life, as they Have given you loveliness; and may Don Mendo's wounds cause you no pain.
The DUKE withdraws
ANA: After he tried to dishonor me, I cannot suffer the slightest pains, Since now not even a spark remains Of the love I felt for him formerly. (Detain Don Juan, I want to talk To CELIA With him.) CELIA: (Señora, as you say.) ANA: (And while I'm here with him, you may Take his companion for a walk.)
Don JUAN starts to withdraw with the DUKE
CELIA: Excuse me, Mister Make-believe Coachman? My mistress calls--hold on. JUAN: Um. CELIA: No 'ums' about it. Don Juan, We know who you are--don't you dare leave! JUAN: Well, this must be my lucky day.
CELIA leaves, taking the DUKE with her in conversation
ANA: So what's all this, Don Juan? JUAN: It's love. ANA: It's madness, rather, you're speaking of. JUAN: And when is love not madness, pray? ANA: Ah, yes. But still may I inquire What this disguise of yours is for? JUAN: It's how I serve whom I adore; It's how I see whom I desire. ANA: I think not, sir--dissimulation Is but a mask to hide your treasons. JUAN: You misconstrue our real reasons-- To free yourself of obligation. ANA: I'll prove what I said--and easily, too, If you will hear. JUAN: I'm listening then. ANA: Who was that other gentleman, And why did he come along with you? To bring some man to speak love in my ear, And then to eavesdrop in disguise-- How could you not characterize Such plots as treasons--plain and clear? JUAN: Clear wide of the mark is what you'd be, If you would brand the finest deed Of courtesy that love could breed As treason or as treachery! ANA: Then name it, sir, and teach me how To thank, if not reward, you--pray. JUAN: I'll speak then only to obey, Not to obligate you now. Caught between my adoration And the sense of my unworth, My poor laboring thoughts gave birth To true and total desperation. But then love found a way for me, In my misfortune and my grief, To give my illness some relief, Though not, of course, a remedy: You should be loved by someone who Deserves to have you. I love you so, And the effect of that, you know, Is that I wish the best for you. I gave the Duke, to this intent, A full account of all your charms-- As easily hold the sea in one's arms, Or count the stars in the firmament! And moved by this report of you, And bound to honor your reserve, He chose this guise that it might serve To help him see and hear you, too. And would to God, now that he knows The simple perfectness of you, That he might take your hand to woo, And thus achieve what I propose; That I, by seeing you attain A station equal your desert, May find, if not a cure for hurt, At least some freedom from my pain. But this alone was all I meant; And if I listened in, disguised, It's just that being recognized, I feared, might spoil out intent. Now judge me, pray, from what you've seen, Was it a sin or sample of The purest form of selfless love, That I became your go-between? ANA: I thank you for your wish for me, But of your plot I can't approve; You do me harm to make me move Higher than I deserve to be. The Duke's estate and eminence Is more than I am worthy of; I'm not deceived by my self-love, Where there's so great a difference. My father was, in his own age, A gentleman of note; yet he, I'm sure, would think that it would be An honor to serve this Duke as a page. And so I can't be lured at all Into such crazy fantasies-- Certainly not by flatteries; I know pride goeth before a fall. JUAN: You do yourself an injury; Even apart from your noble name, Your loveliness alone lays claim To more, much more, than this would be! No man deserves a joy so great! No Duke, no King, no Emp- ANA: Enough! The burning fever of your love Is making you hallucinate. You brain's so love-besotted, you can't Help giving me more than is my due! Teach but the Duke to love like you, I might well give him what you want! JUAN: But how could anyone love you less, Once he has seen your dear perfection? ANA: In short, you're using your heart's affection To judge some stranger's tenderness. Everyone knows how that error starts: Just because you're dying of love, You forget that Cupid's got plenty of Different arrows for different hearts. What if his love were true--what he Desires, Don Juan, is just a fling; Rather than mistress to a King-- I'd wive some farmer honorably. However advantageous life Could be with him, I know for sure I'm grand enough for a paramour, But much too paltry for a wife. JUAN: No man could have so little care, To offend your nobleness this way! ANA: Take my advice, no longer play The middle man in this affair; For in the end, to be quite plain, Far greater hope may that man take Who dares to speak for his own sake Than one who seeks another's gain.
Doña ANA leaves
JUAN: My ears are hardly worthy of The joyous news that they just heard! How blest the sufferings I've incurred! How sweet the victory of love! For at the end, she was quite plain: "Far greater hope may that man take Who dares to speak for his own sake Than one who seeks another's gain!" To my love, sure, she did allude-- My heart is not deceiving me! And a woman who consents to be Beloved is willing to be wooed.
BELTRÁN enters
BELTRÁN: Señor, the Duke is waiting for you; I'm afraid the sun's not doing the same. In fact he's about to expose your whole game, By racing his cart through the heavenly blue. JUAN: I could spend a year where my true love was, And it would feel like a moment, I think. BELTRÁN: Whoever said you needed a drink To give yourself a nice warm buzz? JUAN: You understand me then? BELTRÁN: Your eyes Are sloshing over with happiness. JUAN: They're celebrating their success. BELTRÁN: So perseverance wins the prize!
CELIA enters
JUAN: My dearest Celia, may God bless you! CELIA: And give you all you hope for, sir. JUAN: And since you helped in winning her, May fortune grant your wishes, too. CELIA: If it were in my power to give, Your happiness would have been mine. But persevere, sir, toe the line, That your love may not be lost, but live.
JUAN goes out
BELTRÁN: Would you give the same advice to me? Do you have a line for these poor toes? CELIA: Are you in love? BELTRÁN: Oh, I suppose-- But just to keep him company.
Doña ANA comes in
ANA: (Oh, Celia's with his servant there, Aside That's Don Juan's man, and I can't rest Until I talk to him! My breast Still burns with what it did declare.) CELIA: My lady! To BELTRÁN BELTRÁN: I'm going then. ANA: O, sir! Come back here. What's your name? BELTRÁN: Beltrán. I'm Don Juan de Mendoza's man, Señora. ANA: What did you want with her? BELTRÁN: I was just saying how eagerly I look forward to serving you; You see, I think I'm in love, too-- But just to keep him company. ANA: Are you being sarcastic? BELTRÁN: That wouldn't be smart. That's a profession that's only fit For those with nothing to lose from it, Or those who claim to be pure of heart. But as for me, why ever would I Want to give sermons when I'm no saint? Or about some speck, lodge a loud complaint When I've got a beam stuck in my own eye? ANA: Well, that's a very clever excuse, But it does no credit to your taste. For conversation is a waste, When the sauce of wit's not put to use. BELTRÁN: If wit's a sauce, it's very pricey. Sarcasm, señora, rarely wins; It's the least productive of all the sins, And of all the faults it's the most dicey. After a slanderer has his say, Those in the best position to hear him Now have the surest reason to fear him; What good can ever come his way? For each man to himself must say, After he's heard such scurrility, "Why, this is how he'll speak of me The instant that I walk away!" And if the man of whom he's said Such things finds out--as he surely must-- How can he dine without distrust, Or sleep securely in his bed? There are thousands of sinners on this earth That people put up with without a care, But once they see a slanderer, They all give him a very wide berth. When a hardened criminal comes to grief, We sometimes feel a touch of pity; But a man who's cruel when he thinks he's witty, We'd send to hell with a sigh of relief. At court there's this one gentleman I've listened to quite frequently-- (Now here's a perfect place to see Aside Whether her love's completely gone--) This man's so vicious and so cruel, And such a nasty vilifier, That if he were to catch on fire, The entire court would throw on fuel. His name's Don Mendo de Guzmán, D'you know him, ma'am? ANA: That's enough from you; In attacking slander as you do, You're slanderous yourself, Beltrán! The man's above your ridicule-- Are you so glib a moralizer? BELTRÁN: To criticize a criticizer I think's the exception to the rule. A man who robs a thief, they say, May be forgiven for that crime. ANA: Then they are wrong. Go, in good time. BELTRÁN: Forgive my ignorance, I pray, If I have caused you any pain. (A lover makes an awful liar.) Aside
BELTRÁN leaves
CELIA: (I think perhaps she's quenched the fire, Aside But plenty of embers still remain.) If you're offended by his spite, It's obvious that love has not Erased the memory from your thought Of what you suffered through last night. ANA: Stop there, Celia, hold your tongue. You do my honor great offense To think my heart has lost the sense To know how deeply it was stung. I've not forgotten a single word That foul-mouthed Mendo said of me; That filth he planned I almost see, As if tonight it had occurred. And even more clearly do I see How little I must mean to him, That just to satisfy his whim He'd plot so to dishonor me. So much so now that I have not Just doused the flames of burning love, But built as hot a bonfire of Hatred for him, here in my thought. But let no servant think that that Gives him the slightest liberty To criticize in front of me A man who's an aristocrat. As it would be a great disgrace If noble rivals locked in hate Forgot each other's high estate-- No servant should forget his place. This only, Celia, is why I thought I had to reprimand Beltrán, And certainly not because Don Juan Is absent from my heart--he's not. CELIA: His faith made you a convert then? ANA: Last night Don Mendo fell from grace, And Don Juan rose to take his place, And the wheel of love has turned again. CELIA: So did you tell him of your love? ANA: What--would you have me speak so free? Wasn't it quite enough for me To show him all the radiance of My favor? CELIA: Oh, you call that free? For two whole years, or thereabout, Your love has turned him inside out! It's very clear you didn't see That play about the Princess of France And what she did. ANA: What? What? CELIA: She fell in love At first sight, and then regardless of Scandal or danger, she took a chance! She chased her man, she changed their clothes, And serving her lord as a lowly page, Exposed her legs to the winter's rage Clad only in her doublet and hose! And she was a princess! And you are just A lady--but a lady he Has loved so long and loyally You ought to pay him back. You must Find out some honorable way To speak your mind, with care and skill, And without the fear some writer will Lampoon you in a scandalous play. ANA: But isn't it better, bit by bit? CELIA: D'you love him? ANA: Celia--of course I do! CELIA: And are you certain he loves you? ANA: I know he does--I'm sure of it! CELIA: Well, if you're really sure about The truth in such a case, I'd say It far more cruel to delay Than it is forward to speak out. Now is the time to speak your love, Now is the time to make it known; It would be foolish to postpone, Because there's nothing more to prove. ANA: O Celia, you are much too smart-- Whatever you say I have to do! CELIA: It's no great feat persuading you To follow the dictates of your heart.
They go out
Scene Two
Madrid. A room in Don Mendo's house.
Enter Don MENDO, bandaged and swordless; with him, the COUNT
MENDO: "My coachmen have played false with me!" No sooner had she spoke these words-- My dearest enemy--but they exchanged Their reins and whips for knives and swords, And like some savage, speechless beasts-- How well their rage is thus expressed, As if the power denied the tongue Appeared redoubled in the breast-- They set upon us, two on two, With such a force and violence, That I thought, seeing such a storm Of courage and of puissance, That Jove himself and been transformed Into a coachman for her sake, And with his flaming thunderbolts His vengeance for her wrongs did take-- So many and so valiant were The blows they struck--so fast, so quick-- Not even in Vulcan's stithy had There rained down hammerblows so thick! At last, dear coz--to whom alone I dare confess my deep disgrace-- The sword of one of these base men Managed to wound me in the face, And so much blood came gushing out, Although it was a glancing blow, My eyes were thereby blinded, and He stopped the fight and let me go. So I went back to Alcalá-- A mile away--to seek relief, Not so much from the physical pain As from my fury and my grief. This had to be on Ana's side A groundless cause to pick a fight-- And this is the thanks that I receive For praising her on Midsummer Night! COUNT: An unexpected consequence! And did you ever figure out Who those courageous coachmen were? MENDO: I'm trying to be cautious about The whole affair, to keep it mum, You know, for the sake my position. So that might be hard to ascertain-- Although I do have one suspicion: You know how these young widows are, They're hypocrites and plaster saints, They take their servants as their lovers, Since no one knows, there are no complaints. That kind of courage in a coachman Is only born of jealousy; Base men don't ever risk their lives From any sense of loyalty. Look, these things happen--it's the way of the world If it weren't true, would I say so? I'm not a man who pokes his nose In other people's lives, you know. COUNT: (And long live you to think so, sir!) Aside Well, I can't believe what you suggest. Your anger's driving you to act Against your own best interest. And it's not right to speak that way About someone who still might be Your wife. MENDO: I've lost my patience and My hopes with her. She's not for me. COUNT: So soon? MENDO: I'm going back to my Lucrecia--I can count on her. COUNT: (God grant you only bad news there!) Aside You're showing signs of weakness, sir. If Doña Ana's got it wrong, Then you can make her see it right. MENDO: But she won't give my voice a hearing. COUNT: Go in and make her listen--fight! For once you've had the upper hand, You never lose that liberty. And in the meantime don't assume That's she's changed irretrievably. When she's annoyed, she blames you, but She might not want to part with you. Or write down your excuses in A note to her. MENDO: That's what I'd do, If I thought she'd accept the thing. COUNT: I guarantee she'll read it, sir. MENDO: But how? COUNT: Just give the note to me. And I will hand it right to her. MENDO: I'll go and write it right away.
MENDO goes out
COUNT: And I'll go ask Lucrecia to Fulfill her promises to me; She must have seen the crimes that you Recounted--she was in the coach With Doña Ana when they went From Alcalá--she saw it all-- To her own disillusionment. She'll also have to see your note, I won't have anything retracted; And then I'll make up some excuse, When Mendo finds out how I've acted. If I achieve what I intend, Whatever happens--let it be! No man sees every twist and turn When love makes him as blind as me!
Scene Three
Madrid. A room in the DUKE's house.
Don JUAN and BELTRÁN come in
BELTRÁN: It's a good time, now, isn't it, sir? JUAN: It's time to end my cares. BELTRÁN: Then praise Be to God I'm living in the days When miracles can still occur! So you've put Ana in misery? And is poor old Don Adonis de Guzmán forgot? This is the day That Jeremiah longed to see! I've heard the same thing said, I guess, About each year that comes along, But this one's really starting strong-- With an unparalleled success! She loves you then? JUAN: Undoubtedly! She told me so, Beltrán, and I Am sure that angels never lie! BELTRÁN: The world's turned upside down, I see. With any luck I may discover That bald is beautiful someday. The times are a-changin'. What did it say In that old song of the captive lover? "Was it, oh, was it the month of May, When the sun burned bright and the day was hot, And every amorous suitor brought His lovely lady a bouquet?" But now it's hot the whole way through September--and beyond. Señor? Somehow I get the feeling you're Still going through some changes, too. How in the world have you changed so fast And gotten so totally depressed? Lovers are gamblers at best, Whose happiness can never last. This is just weakness, don't you see-- JUAN: Leave me alone, Beltrán, with my woe! BELTRÁN: Is this part of the scenario? Sir, this plays more like a tragedy! JUAN: My mood has changed, Beltrán, it's true-- It's turned totally inside out; Because the thing I was happy about Has been completely altered, too. The Duke has fallen so in love With her that I'm afraid that he Might even give up his liberty To gain what he's desirous of. BELTRÁN: He'd marry her? JUAN: The Duke might well! BELTRÁN: If your beloved should ever see That that's a possibility, No need to ask for whom the bell Tolls now! What woman wouldn't do The same, to be called Your Excellency? JUAN: That's why I feel I have to free Myself of hope--and patience, too. BELTRÁN: Or find yourself a remedy, sir. JUAN: If you can see one, tell it to me! BELTRÁN: Well, if he's in love, it wouldn't be To confide in him that you love her. But if your lady's declared her love To you already--then surely, sir, What you have to do is marry her Before the Duke can make his move. JUAN: But how can I manage to pin her down On such short notice? BELTRÁN: You can pretend That the injury you gave Don Mend- o is common knowledge all over town-- And with the news, that people are now Gossiping about her reputation; From there it's a simple calculation, I think, to figure the best way how To stop their mouths: she has to say After the fact, that earlier she Had always intended that she would be Your wife. And meanwhile, you display How confused and uncertain you are inside-- How you're not sure that she is true-- Why then she'll have to marry you Just to make sure you're satisfied. For since she's clearly been implying That she loves you--and you love her-- She either does what you prefer, Or else confesses that she's been lying. JUAN: She's going to the Gardens today; I'll get a chance to talk to her, And follow your advice. BELTRÁN: And sir-- You can only win if you don't run away. Here comes the Duke.
The DUKE and FABIO come in
JUAN: Señor. DUKE: My dear Don Juan, I'm dying. JUAN: Dying? What of? DUKE: Of the savage war being waged by love, Disdain, and jealousy--in here! To that ungrateful wretch I love-- Beautiful angel though she be-- I've written today a letter-- JUAN: (Ay, me!) Aside DUKE: Which she has taken no notice of! JUAN: (My soul just hopped right back in there!) Aside How can she be so hard of heart? DUKE: Such cruel disfavor on her part Can only mean she loves elsewhere. JUAN: It's being loved that I suspect Is behind her show of cruelty. DUKE: Well, either way, it's killing me-- Let's not fight over cause and effect. What's certain is, I'm dying of this! Don Juan, give me some consolation. JUAN: I don't foresee any alteration When her resolve's as firm as it is; So my advice is to let it go, Before your love gets any stronger. DUKE: It can't get stronger-- JUAN: Well, then, the longer You love, the more your pain will grow.
MARCELO comes in
MARCELO: Can I talk to you? DUKE: Marcelo--yes. MARCELO: Reward me first, sir. DUKE: This delay Is killing me. MARCELO: You've found today Safe haven for your happiness. Today your cruel mistress, sir, Goes to the Gardens, and her page-- Money's got such leverage-- Will let you in to speak with her. DUKE: Embrace me then. MARCELO: (How about my dough?) Aside DUKE: Don Juan, won't you accompany me? JUAN: The sweetest opportunity Comes when a man's alone--you go. DUKE: Well said, but look for me all the same-- After the golden sun has set-- To know what fortune I have met.
The DUKE leaves, and his Servants with him
JUAN: You can't get honor or a good name, By taking advantage of one another-- That kind of vicious self-serving is curst! BELTRÁN: What the Bible says is, get there first And steal the blessing from your brother!
They go out
Scene Four
Madrid. The Gardens.
The COUNT and Doña LUCRECIA come in
COUNT: But surely you will not deny, My lady, what you said to me! LUCRECIA: I don't deny it. COUNT: You had to see The ugly truth behind the lie, The night that Doña Ana came From Alcalá. LUCRECIA: I don't deny That either--the fire is out, yet I Still feel the burning from its flame. COUNT: Well then, that you may rid your poor heart of The embers that still smolder there, Look at this letter which I bear From Mendo, of his frantic love, Written to melt the stubborn will Of Doña Ana de Contreras. If you permit him to embarrass You further, you're not in love--you're ill!
He gives her the letter, which she reads
LUCRECIA: "If you without a hearing could Condemn me, with a hearing I know You might condemn me, too--and so What remedy is any good To cure this pain? But if Heaven would, Will you hear me--just a moment or two? If guiltily I ask this, do Your worst, inflict more pain-- Unless it hurts to hear me explain That I have never offended you." COUNT: You recognize the style? LUCRECIA: I do. COUNT: You see how you're betrayed? LUCRECIA: I see, Dear Count, and I will remedy The pain that I have put you through. For such a steadfast loyal heart Must be rewarded; it's not just right-- It will give my father such delight Who in this always took your part. I pray you, hide in the garden--do! I would not have my cousin see You here. COUNT: My soul seeks but to be Glorified by obeying you.
He hides
Doña ANA comes in, and CELIA speaking to her
CELIA: So how does it feel, may I inquire? ANA: Oh--once my love had been expressed, The more I tried to be self-possessed And cool, the more I caught on fire! And I am sure that if anyone Were behind that tree, he could see how bright The flames are now. CELIA: "What a horrible sight! Look at the face on that Don Juan!" Now do you see the value of Honest dealing and a good disposition? So much so, that I make this admission: There's no Adonis that can match my love!
They draw near to LUCRECIA
What are you reading, cousin? LUCRECIA: It's just A letter from Don Mendo to me; I'd like to show it to you--to see If you think he's worthy of trust. CELIA: I don't believe one word--not one-- Or even listen--I promise you. LUCRECIA: I only pray that God will do Unto him as I would have him done; All I intend is for you to see From it what Mendo thinks of you. (I'll do him all the harm I can do-- Aside The letter's my opportunity.)
Don JUAN enters and stands alongside Doña ANA
CELIA: (Boldly he enters, and right on cue!) Aside JUAN: (She's reading something--it's a note-- Aside Some letter than Don Mendo wrote!) May a jealous man beg leave of you-- A man that you have called your lord-- To read that letter? May I see? ANA: If this concern or jealousy, Don Juan, is caused by any word That's written here, what you must do Is ask my cousin's leave--and you may. JUAN: Then will you give me leave to say To her as well that I love you? ANA: It's the perfect opportunity-- Since I love you with all my heart. JUAN: Dear lady, I beg you take my part-- Out of my love or jealousy-- And give me leave to read this note. LUCRECIA: My pleasure rests in Ana's care. ANA: So now you know--that letter there-- It was to her that Mendo wrote. JUAN: Don Mendo to Lucrecia? ANA: It is-- My cousin can tell you that it's true. JUAN: If he so highly values you, He'll surely say much more than this. But let the note have the final word, It's the best witness there can be. LUCRECIA: In it he tries to make up with me, And begs permission to be heard.
She give him the letter which he reads
JUAN: "If you without a hearing could Condemn me, with a hearing I know You might condemn me, too--and so What remedy is any good To cure this pain? But if Heaven would, Will you hear me--just a moment or two? If guiltily I ask this, do Your worst, inflict more pain-- Unless it hurts to hear me explain That I have never offended you." Oh, Doña Ana, what's driving you To treat me so deceitfully? How little you must care for me-- A man unloved and now lied to! These pleas in here are meant for you-- You are the subject of what I've read. It's very clear from what is said-- The event that he's referring to. ANA: If I am the one he wrote it to, Does he thank me, or does he complain Rather of my cold disdain? By letting you read it, I'm doing you A favor. JUAN: A better one would be For you not to have read the thing. It's hard to keep from pardoning An offender once you hear his plea. Will you accept a communication From another man, and yet confess That you are mine? Which do you value less-- Myself, or your own reputation? I now know that it's best for me To live unloved, the object of Your scorn, than to enjoy your love And be subject to injury. I'll never go where your love may Once more turn me into a fool And flout at me. ANA: Are you so cruel To murder me? JUAN: You're shameless! ANA: Stay-- And hear me out. Dear cousin, give me Your hand, help me to hold him tight! JUAN: Let go! Let go! It's just not right-- You've lost all sense of propriety! CELIA: Don Mendo's in the shrubbery. ANA: Don Mendo? CELIA: He forced his way in. ANA: I'm So glad. He's come at a perfect time For me to end your jealousy. The two of you, hide in that grove, Go on! And hidden there, your eyes And ears will make you realize Just who it is I really love. JUAN: Give me your hand, for that alone Is the satisfaction I require. ANA: Sir, you are my heart's desire. There just a little job to be done.
JUAN and LUCRECIA hide themselves, and CELIA moves back near them. Don MENDO enters
MENDO: It's not for pardon that I beg, It's not for favor that I pray. If I should ask for either of these, Then shut your ears to what I say. I only wish that you will hear, Dear Doña Ana, my heartfelt plea-- Only to let me make my case Not to accuse your inconstancy. For if one night I told the Duke You had a little fault or two, It was because I feared your fame Would make him fall in love with you. It was because Don Juan was so Outspoken in his praise of you-- A young man's like a powder keg, Even a little spark will do. For your sake did I write your cousin, Insulting her right to her face, To disabuse her of her love And magnify your every grace. If she has told you otherwise, You'll see how you have been misled; I have a copy of my letter-- Hear exactly what I said: "You but increase your agony When you refuse to hear me plead. If you find fault where there's no need, You needs must suffer equally. If your own worth you could but see, Then would you see how violence Has clouded your intelligence, How in your madness you strike out, Wronging your beauty with your doubt, And with your jealousy, your sense. "Between Lucrecia and Doña Ana Who knows not the difference? It is the day's pre-eminence To night. Or life's to death. What, can a Star be mistaken for Diana, Chaste Goddess of the Moon? No fur- ther be my unjust slanderer, And calm your fears--for I have eyes, And a soul as well, to recognize Which lady is the lovelier." How can I have made it clearer? What more have done to make her see? If she has got it backwards, then The fault is surely not in me. Then why use force out in the fields, You'll say--but that is so unfair! You were the woman I meant to marry, Not some stranger I ambushed there. It was a peccadillo, perhaps, A rural folly, and I protest I paid the penalty in advance With Cupid's arrows in my breast. These are your charges, these are my faults; Then calm your fury, and from that face, That heaven on earth, banish the cloud Of your disapproval and disgrace, For heaven, and air, and earth itself Will witness my unhappiness; And there is none who doubts my truth, Save you, the source of my distress. Here is my hand, a husband's hand-- And here so clear my not-guilty plea, You must believe in my good faith, Or confess your own inconstancy. LUCRECIA: (No doubt she'll marry him right here. To JUAN JUAN: (She'll marry him right here--no doubt!) Aside (Should I leave now?) To CELIA CELIA: (Don't let her down, When you're supposed to help her out.)
The DUKE enters with a PAGE, and the two hide behind the curtain
PAGE: From here you'll have a perfect view Of what Don Mendo's trying to do.
The PAGE leaves
ANA: My dear Don Mendo, I must confess You've made a very forthright plea; And offering your hand to me Could well conclude this business. But your appeal will not reduce Your sentence. The case is closed, the ver- dict's in, you've lost already, sir, And it's too late for your excuse. I even accept your explanation-- That when you spoke so ill of me To the Duke, it was to keep me free Of any possible infatuation. But, sir, you spoke it publicly-- However private your intent; You're judged on the record, not what you meant, So don't you dare complain to me. And now at last I hope you see How evil slander is, for though The end be good, the reasons so, It always does you injury. And so is good intent found guil- ty through evil means. It is all one. An evil deed, though it be done For good, is never good, but ill. It is your tongue that does condemn You now, and not my scorn. Go then, Speak kindly of your fellow men-- That way you cannot injure them. If you do this--and if you're smart-- You might be able to change your ways. MENDO: The case is closed--was that your phrase? ANA: The case is closed--as is my heart. MENDO: You realize what you're saying to me? ANA: I'm saying it's useless now to act Further--for what this is, is fact, Don Mendo, not some penalty. MENDO: So what people are saying seems to be Something I can believe in then: That you have degraded taste in men-- That would explain why you can't stand me. That fighting coachmen that took your part, It's him they mean; I suppose it's true-- He gets his spirit from the favors you Bestow, not from his base-born heart. ANA: Don't speak to me again, sir! No! I'll brook no further injury. In trying to force yourself on me, You free me of any debt I owe. That coachman of mine that wounded you, I'd like for you to meet him now. Coachman, come out and take a bow.
Don JUAN and LUCRECIA come out from one side, the DUKE from the other. Later, BELTRÁN and the COUNT come out as well
JUAN: I am that coachman, sir. DUKE: Me, too.
The four gentlemen all draw their swords
ANA: Gentlemen, please, put up your swords-- For I must suffer for what you do. DUKE: It is enough that you tell us to. JUAN: I only live to obey your words. ANA: These are the coachmen here, you see, By whom you'd ruin my good name; And now to deprive the voice of shame Of any chance to slander me, I give my hand in marriage to Don Juan. JUAN: And I, dear heart, give mine.
They take hands
CELIA: Happy New Year! BELTRÁN: Break out the wine!
The DUKE draws on Don JUAN
DUKE: Don Juan, is this the way that you Deceive a friend? For shame! JUAN: Hold, sir! I never betrayed you, never lied. It was not deceit, but prudence to hide The feelings that I had for her. If you will be so kind as to Remember--I helped you only to view her, But, sir, when you began to woo her, I then declined to accompany you. ANA: This hand was mine, to keep or lose, You know--I had the final voice; So arguing about my choice Is vain, unless you let me choose. Don Juan has won this hand of me, For by defending me that day, He earned what Mendo threw away By speaking of me slanderously. This is my choice, though 'tis Heaven's will, Which God has done--He moves in such Mysterious ways--to show how much He values those who speak no ill. MENDO: I know now why I could never see The value of your cousin's love-- Because the senseless cruelty of Your frigid heart was blinding me! But in these tears of my conversion, And in these joys her hand brings me, I end all my dishonesty, Your vengeful spite, and her aspersion. LUCRECIA: Who was it told you that I still Remember you at all today Here in my heart? BELTRÁN: (He tried to pay Aside Before the hostess totalled the bill.) LUCRECIA: In wooing Ana, it appears, That you spoke very ill of me. MENDO: Spoke ill of you? to Ana? LUCRECIA: You see, My dear Don Mendo, the walls have ears. But since you have the audacity To want to be the husband of A woman like me that you don't love And that you speak of scurrilously-- I don't think I'm that big a fool To want to make myself the wife Of a man who'd spend his married life With a woman he'd only ridicule. And lest you hope your penalty Might be reduced, I here confess The joys you lost through faithlessness The Count shall gain for his loyalty.
She give her hand to the COUNT
I'm yours. MENDO: And I've lost everything! Why live, when life's a living hell? COUNT: And you could lose your life as well, If you don't stop your chattering. BELTRÁN: With this example clearly in mind, Ladies and gentlemen here today, Remember the wall have ears, I pray; So when you speak of us, be kind.


Electronic text by Vern G. Williamsen and J T Abraham
Additional formatting by Matthew D. Stroud

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Most recent update: 28 Jun 2002