man and superman-第21章

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Stillness　settles　on　the　Sierra；　and　the　darkness　deepens。　The
fire　has　again　buried　itself　in　white　ash　and　ceased　to　glow。　The
peaks　show　unfathomably　dark　against　the　starry　firmament；　but
now　the　stars　dim　and　vanish；　and　the　sky　seems　to　steal　away　out
of　the　universe。　Instead　of　the　Sierra　there　is　nothing；
omnipresent　nothing。　No　sky；　no　peaks；　no　light；　no　sound；　no
time　nor　space；　utter　void。　Then　somewhere　the　beginning　of　a
pallor；　and　with　it　a　faint　throbbing　buzz　as　of　a　ghostly
violoncello　palpitating　on　the　same　note　endlessly。　A　couple　of
ghostly　violins　presently　take　advantage　of　this　bass

（a　staff　of　music　is　supplied　here）

and　therewith　the　pallor　reveals　a　man　in　the　void；　an
incorporeal　but　visible　man；　seated；　absurdly　enough；　on　nothing。
For　a　moment　he　raises　his　head　as　the　music　passes　him　by。　Then；
with　a　heavy　sigh；　he　droops　in　utter　dejection；　and　the　violins；
discouraged；　retrace　their　melody　in　despair　and　at　last　give　it
up；　extinguished　by　wailings　from　uncanny　wind　instruments；
thus：

（more　music）

It　is　all　very　odd。　One　recognizes　the　Mozartian　strain；
and　on　this　hint；　and　by　the　aid　of　certain　sparkles　of　violet
light　in　the　pallor；　the　man's　costume　explains　itself　as　that　of
a　Spanish　nobleman　of　the　XV…XVI　century。　Don　Juan；　of
course；　but　where？　why？　how？　Besides；　in　the　brief　lifting
of　his　face；　now　hidden　by　his　hat　brim；　there　was　a　curious
suggestion　of　Tanner。　A　more　critical；　fastidious；　handsome　face；
paler　and　colder；　without　Tanner's　impetuous　credulity　and
enthusiasm；　and　without　a　touch　of　his　modern　plutocratic
vulgarity；　but　still　a　resemblance；　even　an　identity。　The　name
too：　Don　Juan　Tenorio；　John　Tanner。　Where　on　earth…or　elsewhere
have　we　got　to　from　the　XX　century　and　the　Sierra？

Another　pallor　in　the　void；　this　time　not　violet；　but　a
disagreeable　smoky　yellow。　With　it；　the　whisper　of　a　ghostly
clarionet　turning　this　tune　into　infinite　sadness：

（Here　there　is　another　musical　staff。）

The　yellowish　pallor　moves：　there　is　an　old　crone　wandering　in
the　void；　bent　and　toothless；　draped；　as　well　as　one　can　guess；
in　the　coarse　brown　frock　of　some　religious　order。　She　wanders
and　wanders　in　her　slow　hopeless　way；　much　as　a　wasp　flies　in　its
rapid　busy　way；　until　she　blunders　against　the　thing　she　seeks：
companionship。　With　a　sob　of　relief　the　poor　old　creature
clutches　at　the　presence　of　the　man　and　addresses　him　in　her　dry
unlovely　voice；　which　can　still　express　pride　and　resolution　as
well　as　suffering。

THE　OLD　WOMAN。　Excuse　me；　but　I　am　so　lonely；　and　this　place　is
so　awful。

DON　JUAN。　A　new　comer？

THE　OLD　WOMAN。　Yes：　I　suppose　I　died　this　morning。　I　confessed；　I
had　extreme　unction；　I　was　in　bed　with　my　family　about　me　and　my
eyes　fixed　on　the　cross。　Then　it　grew　dark；　and　when　the　light
came　back　it　was　this　light　by　which　I　walk　seeing　nothing。　I
have　wandered　for　hours　in　horrible　loneliness。

DON　JUAN。　＇sighing＇　Ah！　you　have　not　yet　lost　the　sense　of　time。
One　soon　does；　in　eternity。

THE　OLD　WOMAN。　Where　are　we？

DON　JUAN。　In　hell。

THE　OLD　WOMAN　＇proudly＇　Hell！　I　in　hell！　How　dare　you？

DON　JUAN。　＇unimpressed＇　Why　not；　Senora？

THE　OLD　WOMAN。　You　do　not　know　to　whom　you　are　speaking。　I　am　a
lady；　and　a　faithful　daughter　of　the　Church。

DON　JUAN。　I　do　not　doubt　it。

THE　OLD　WOMAN。　But　how　then　can　I　be　in　hell？　Purgatory；　perhaps：
I　have　not　been　perfect：　who　has？　But　hell！　oh；　you　are　lying。

DON　JUAN。　Hell；　Senora；　I　assure　you；　hell　at　its　best　that　is；
its　most　solitarythough　perhaps　you　would　prefer　company。

THE　OLD　WOMAN。　But　I　have　sincerely　repented；　I　have　confessed。

DON　JUAN。　How　much？

THE　OLD　WOMAN。　More　sins　than　I　really　committed。　I　loved
confession。

DON　JUAN。　Ah；　that　is　perhaps　as　bad　as　confessing　too　little。　At
all　events；　Senora；　whether　by　oversight　or　intention；　you　are
certainly　damned；　like　myself；　and　there　is　nothing　for　it　now
but　to　make　the　best　of　it。

THE　OLD　WOMAN　＇indignantly＇　Oh！　and　I　might　have　been　so　much
wickeder！　All　my　good　deeds　wasted！　It　is　unjust。

DON　JUAN。　No：　you　were　fully　and　clearly　warned。　For　your　bad
deeds；　vicarious　atonement；　mercy　without　justice。　For　your　good
deeds；　justice　without　mercy。　We　have　many　good　people　here。

THE　OLD　WOMAN。　Were　you　a　good　man？

DON　JUAN。　I　was　a　murderer。

THE　OLD　WOMAN。　A　murderer！　Oh；　how　dare　they　send　me　to　herd　with
murderers！　I　was　not　as　bad　as　that：　I　was　a　good　woman。　There　is
some　mistake：　where　can　I　have　it　set　right？

DON　JUAN。　I　do　not　know　whether　mistakes　can　be　corrected　here。
Probably　they　will　not　admit　a　mistake　even　if　they　have　made
one。

THE　OLD　WOMAN。　But　whom　can　I　ask？

DON　JUAN。　I　should　ask　the　Devil；　Senora：　he　understands　the　ways
of　this　place；　which　is　more　than　I　ever　could。

THE　OLD　WOMAN。　The　Devil！　I　speak　to　the　Devil！

DON　JUAN。　In　hell；　Senora；　the　Devil　is　the　leader　of　the　best
society。

THE　OLD　WOMAN。　I　tell　you；　wretch；　I　know　I　am　not　in　hell。

DON　JUAN。　How　do　you　know？

THE　OLD　WOMAN。　Because　I　feel　no　pain。

DON　JUAN。　Oh；　then　there　is　no　mistake：　you　are　intentionally
damned。

THE　OLD　WOMAN。　Why　do　you　say　that？

DON　JUAN。　Because　hell；　Senora；　is　a　place　for　the　wicked。　The
wicked　are　quite　comfortable　in　it：　it　was　made　for　them。　You
tell　me　you　feel　no　pain。　I　conclude　you　are　one　of　those　for
whom　Hell　exists。

THE　OLD　WOMAN。　Do　you　feel　no　pain？

DON　JUAN。　I　am　not　one　of　the　wicked；　Senora；　therefore　it　bores
me；　bores　me　beyond　description；　beyond　belief。

THE　OLD　WOMAN。　Not　one　of　the　wicked！　You　said　you　were　a
murderer。

DON　JUAN。　Only　a　duel。　I　ran　my　sword　through　an　old　man　who　was
trying　to　run　his　through　me。

THE　OLD　WOMAN。　If　you　were　a　gentleman；　that　was　not　a　murder。

DON　JUAN。　The　old　man　called　it　murder；　because　he　was；　he　said；
defending　his　daughter's　honor。　By　this　he　meant　that　because　I
foolishly　fell　in　love　with　her　and　told　her　so；　she　screamed；
and　he　tried　to　assassinate　me　after　calling　me　insulting　names。

THE　OLD　WOMAN。　You　were　like　all　men。　Libertines　and　murderers
all；　all；　all！

DON　JUAN。　And　yet　we　meet　here；　dear　lady。

THE　OLD　WOMAN。　Listen　to　me。　My　father　was　slain　by　just　such　a
wretch　as　you；　in　just　such　a　duel；　for　just　such　a　cause。　I
screamed：　it　was　my　duty。　My　father　drew　on　my　assailant：　his
honor　demanded　it。　He　fell：　that　was　the　reward　of　honor。　I　am
here：　in　hell；　you　tell　me　that　is　the　reward　of　duty。　Is　there
justice　in　heaven？

DON　JUAN。　No；　but　there　is　justice　in　hell：　heaven　is　far　above
such　idle　human　personalities。　You　will　be　welcome　in　hell；
Senora。　Hell　is　the　home　of　honor；　duty；　justice；　and　the　rest　of
the　seven　deadly　virtues。　All　the　wickedness　on　earth　is　done　in
their　name：　where　else　but　in　hell　should　they　have　their　reward？
Have　I　not　told　you　that　the　truly　damned　are　those　who　are　happy
in　hell？

THE　OLD　WOMAN。　And　are　you　happy　here？

DON　JUAN。　＇Springing　to　his　feet＇　No；　and　that　is　the　enigma　on
which　I　ponder　in　darkness。　Why　am　I　here？　I；　who　repudiated　all
duty；　trampled　honor　underfoot；　and　laughed　at　justice！

THE　OLD　WOMAN。　Oh；　what　do　I　care　why　you　are　here？　Why　am　I
here？　I；　who　sacrificed　all　my　inclinations　to　womanly　virtue　and
propriety！

DON　JUAN。　Patience；　lady：　you　will　be　perfectly　happy　and　at　home
here。　As　with　the　poet；　〃Hell　is　a　city　much　like　Seville。〃

THE　OLD　WOMAN。　Happy！　here！　where　I　am　nothing！　where　I　am
nobody！

DON　JUAN。　Not　at　all：　you　are　a　lady；　and　wherever　ladies　are　is
hell。　Do　not　be　surprised　or　terrified：　you　will　find　everything
here　that　a　lady　can　desire；　including　devils　who　will　serve　you
from　sheer　love　of　servitude；　and　magnify　your　importance　for　the
sake　of　dignifying　their　servicethe　best　of　servants。

THE　OLD　WOMAN。　My　servants　will　be　devils。

DON　JUAN。　Have　you　ever　had　servants　who　were　not　devils？

THE　OLD　WOMAN。　Never：　they　were　devils；　perfect　devils；　all　of
them。　But　that　is　only　a　manner　of　speaking。　I　thought　you　meant
that　my　servants　here　would　be　real　devils。

DON　JUAN。　No　more　real　devils　than　you　will　be　a　real　lady。
Nothing　is　real　here。　That　is　the　horror　of　damnation。

THE　OLD　WOMAN。　Oh；　this　is　all　madness。　This　is　worse　than　fire
and　the　worm。

DON　JUAN。　For　you；　perhaps；　there　are　consolations。　For　instance：
how　old　were　you　when　you　changed　from　time　to　eternity？

THE　OLD　WOMAN。　Do　not　ask　me　how　old　I　was　as　if　I　were　a　thing
of　the　past。　I　am　77。

DON　JUAN。　A　ripe　age；　Senora。　But　in　hell　old　age　is　not
tolerated。　It　is　too　real。　Here　we　worship　Love　and　Beauty。　Our
souls　being　entirely　damned；　we　cultivate　our　hearts。　As　a　lady
of　77；　you　would　not　have　a　single　acquaintance　in　hell。

THE　OLD　WOMAN。　How　can　I　help　my　age；　man？

DON　JUAN。　You　forget　that　you　have　left　your　age　behind　you　in
the　realm　of　time。　You　are　no　more　77　than　you　are　7　or　17　or　27。

THE　OLD　WOMAN。　Nonsense！

DON　JUAN。　Consider；　Senora：　was　not　this　true　even　when　you　lived
on　earth？　When　you　were　70；　were　you　really　older　underneath　your
wrinkles　and　your　grey　hams　than　when　you　were　30？

THE　OLD　WOMAN。　No；　younger：　at　30　I　was　a　fool。　But　of　what　use
is　it　to　feel　younger　and　look　older？

DON　JUAN。　You　see；　Senora；　the　look　was　only　an　illusion。　Your
wrinkles　lied；　just　as　the　plump　smooth　skin　of　many　a　stupid
girl　of　17；　with　heavy　spirits　and　decrepit　ideas；　lies　about　her
age？　Well；　here　we　have　no　bodies：　we　see　each　other　as　bodies
only　because　we　learnt　to　think　about　one　another　under　that
aspect　when　we　were　alive；　and　we　still　think　in　that　way；
knowing　no　other。　But　we　can　appear　to　one　another　at　what　age　we
choose。　You　have　but　to　will　any　of　your　old　looks　back；　and　back
they　will　come。

THE　OLD　WOMAN。　It　cannot　be　true。

DON　JUAN。　Try。

THE　OLD　WOMAN。　Seventeen！

DON　JUAN。　Stop。　Before　you　decide；　I　had　better　tell　you　that
these　things　are　a　matter　of　fashion。　Occasionally　we　have　a　rage
for　17；　but　it　does　not　last　long。　Just　at　present　the
fashionable　age　is　40or　say　37；　but　there　are　signs　of　a
change。　If　you　were　at　all　good…looking　at　27；　I　should　suggest
your　trying　that；　and　setting　a　new　fashion。

THE　OLD　WOMAN。　I　do　not　believe　a　word　you　are　saying。　However；
27　be　it。　＇Whisk！　the　old　woman　becomes　a　young　one；　and　so
handsome　that　in　the　radiance　into　which　her　dull　yellow　halo　has
suddenly　lightened　one　might　almost　mistake　her　for　Ann
Whitefield＇。

DON　JUAN。　Dona　Ana　de　Ulloa！

ANA。　What？　You　know　me！

DON　JUAN。　And　you　forget　me！

ANA。　I　cannot　see　your　face。　＇He　raises　his　hat＇。　Don　Juan
Tenorio！　Monster！　You　who　slew　my　father！　even　here　you　pursue
me。

DON　JUAN。　I　protest　I　do　not　pursue　you。　Allow　me　to　withdraw
＇going＇。

ANA。　＇reining　his　arm＇　You　shall　not　leave　me　alone　in　this
dreadful　place。

DON　JUAN。　Provided　my　staying　be　not　interpreted　as　pursuit。

ANA。　＇releasing　him＇　You　may　well　wonder　how　I　can　endure　your
presence。　My　dear；　dear　father！

DON　JUAN。　Would　you　like　to　see　him？

ANA。　My　father　HERE！！！

DON　JUAN。　No：　he　is　in　heaven。

ANA。　I　knew　it。　My　noble　father！　He　is　looking　down　on　us　now。
What　must　he　feel　to　see　his　daughter　in　this　place；　and　in
conversation　wi