SIGISMUND.

Ah, miserable me! ah, wo, wo, wo!
Heavens, why make ye me to mourn,
More than all men else forlorn?
If my birth has been my sin,
Yet what sinned I more herein
Than others, who were also born?
Born the bird was, yet with gay
Gala vesture, beauty's dower,
Scarce it is a wingèd flower,
Or a richly-plumaged spray,
Ere the aerial halls of day
It divideth rapidly,

And no more will debtor be
To the nest it hastes to quit,

But, with more soul than it,
I am grudged its liberty.

And the beast was born, whose skin
Scarce those beauteous spots and bars,

Like to constellated stars,

Doth from its great Painter win,

Ere the instinct doth begin

Of its fierceness and its pride,
And its lair on every side

It has measured far and nigh,
While with better instinct I
Am its liberty denied.

Born the mute fish was also,

Child of ooze and ocean-weed;

Scarce a finny bark of speed

To the surface brought, and lo!
In vast circuits to and fro
Measures it on every side
All the waste of ocean wide,
Its illimitable home;

While, with greater will to roam,
I that freedom am denied.
Born the streamlet was, a snake,
Which unwinds the flowers among,
Silver serpent, that not long
May to them sweet music make,
Ere it quits the flowery brake,
Onward hastening to the sea
With majestic course and free,
Which the open plains supply;
While, with more life gifted, I
Am denied its liberty.*

Those acquainted with the construction of Calderon's dramas will observe that he is here true to his ordinary plan of beginning with a scene which shall

* Calderon is so fond of introducing into his dramas persons who have been brought up in absolute solitude, and then are suddenly cast upon the world, and of dealing with the effects which are thus produced upon them, that it is not to be wondered at that several passages nearly resembling this, variations in fact upon it, are to be found in his other dramas - one, for example, and a very beautiful one, in the first act of Echo and Narcissus.

But this is hardly so,

rouse curiosity; and only when he may have thus secured the spectators' attention, does he proceed to the orderly unfolding of his plot. An involuntary exclamation of Rosaura's makes the captive aware of the two that are so close to him. His first impulse, when he discovers that he has been overheard in the hour of his weakness, is to destroy the listeners, however unintentional and unavoidable their listening may have been. Rosaura casts herself at his feet, and obtains his grace. But this is hardly so, when they are interrupted by the entrance of Clotaldo, the most trusted servant of the Polish king, and the only person acquainted with the secret of this prisoner's condition, or with the causes of his lifelong captivity. Clotaldo summons the guards of the tower, and the intruders are borne away, despite of Sigismund's furious remonstrance and the passionate outbreaks of his rage. They have incurred the penalty of death, pronounced against any who should approach the place where this prisoner was confined.

We have in the next scene the court of the king of Poland. The aged monarch, in solemn assembly of the chief estates of the realm, declares to Astolfo and to Estrella the conditions under which the inheritance of the kingdom may devolve on them. He narrates at length his addiction in former years to the science of astrology; and how he had dived deeply into the mysteries of the future. Though counted childless,

he too had once a son; but reading at his birth his horoscope, he learned that this son should be fierce and ungovernable and cruel, and that he should himself one day lie prostrate at his feet. This son, whom he has feared to acknowledge, still lives-brought up in a remote tower, with only Clotaldo conscious of the secret. But now the father is touched with remorse, and repents of the cruelty with which he has sought to defeat the possible violence of his son. He will bring him forth, and make proof of his disposition. These prophecies of the stars do but announce the inclination; they can not impair the free will. Sigismund, for of course he and the captive of the first scene are the same, may overcome all the malignant influences of his stars; for men are not servile to their circumstances or their instincts, but it is their higher task to mould and fashion and conquer these. If he bear himself well in his trial, he shall be acknowledged as an heir; if otherwise, he shall be sent back to his dungeon, and Astolfo and Estrella shall inherit the kingdom. As now the secret is a secret no longer, and no motive for further concealment exists, the prisoners are easily pardoned; and Rosaura, who has resumed female attire, is taken into the train of Estrella. There is an underplot by which the latter becomes acquainted with Astolfo's previous engagement to Rosaura, which, graceful as it is, I yet shall not touch, as my purpose is only with the more

earnest side of this drama. It has its bearing on the ultimate issue, as in consequence of the discovery, Estrella breaks off her engagement with the duke.

ACT II.

IN the first scene of this act Clotaldo declares to the king the manner in which he has carried out his purpose. In mercy to the young prince it has been determined by his father that he shall be brought to the palace while under the influence of a sleeping potion; so that, should he prove unworthy, being borne back to his dungeon under the power of another, he may be persuaded that all the pomp and glory with which he was surrounded for a brief moment was indeed only a dream which he dreamed. There is something fine in Clotaldo's account of the manner in which he carried out this part of his monarch's plans. The passage is in assonants in the original, and therefore in the translation. The assonants employed are e-e, the weakest, unfortunately of all our vowels; but the nearest possible approach which the language allows to the e-a of the original.

CLOTALDO.

All, as thou command'st it,

Has been happily effected.

KING.

Say, Clotaldo, how it passed.