The Purgatory of St. Patrick Part 18

I pa.s.sed on, and found me where Some were cured, by a strange method, Of their cruel wounds and torments; Lead and burning pitch were melted, And being poured upon their sores Made a cautery most dreadful.

Who that hears me will not mourn?

Who that hears this awful lesson Will not sigh and will not weep, Will not fear and will not tremble?

Then I saw a certain building, Out of which bright rays extended From the windows and the doors, As when conflagration settles On a house, the flame bursts forth Where an opening is presented.

"This," they told me, "is the villa Of delights, the bath of pleasures, The abode of the luxurious, Where are punished all those women Who were in the other life, From frivolity excessive, Too much given to scented waters, Unguents, rouges, baths, and perfumes."-- I went in, and there beheld, In a tank of cold snow melted, Many lovely women bathing, With an upturned look of terror; Underneath the water they Were the prey of snakes and serpents, For the fishes and the sirens Of this sea they represented; In the clear transparent crystal Stiff and frozen were their members, Icy hard their hair was lifted, Chattering struck their teeth together.

Pa.s.sing out, the demons brought me To a mountain so tremendous In its height, that as it rose Through the sky its peak dissevered, If it did not tear and rend, The vast azure veil celestial; In the middle of this peak A volcano stood, which, belching Flames, appeared as if to spit them In the very face of heaven.

From this burning cone, this crater, Fire at intervals ascended In which issued many souls, Who again its womb re-entered, Oft repeating and renewing This ascending and descending.

At this time a scorching wind Caught me when I least expected, Blowing me from where I stood, So that instantly it set me In the depths of that abyss.

I too was shot up: a second Wind-gust came, that with it brought Myriad legions, who impelled me Rudely to another part, Where it seemed I saw a.s.sembled All the other souls I had seen, But who here were all collected; And though this was the abode Where the pains were most excessive, I remarked that all therein Faces bore of glad expression, Countenances calm and sweet, No impatience in their gestures Or their words; but with their eyes Fixed on heaven, as if thus set there To ask mercy, ever weeping Tears of tenderness and penance.

That it was the Purgatory I at once by this detected, Where the happy souls are purged from Their more venial offences.

I was not subdued even here, Though the demons stormed and threatened Me the more: I rather felt By the sight renewed and strengthened.

Then they, seeing that they could not Shake my constancy, presented To my eyes their greatest torments, That which is in an especial Sense called h.e.l.l; and so they brought me To a river, all the herbage Of whose banks was flowers of fire, And whose stream was sulphur melted; The dread monsters of its tide Were the hydras and the serpents; It was very wide, and o'er it Was a narrow bridge suspended, Which but seemed a line, no more, And so delicate and slender That in my opinion no one Without breaking it could ever Pa.s.s across. "Look here," they said, "By this narrow way 'tis destined Thou must cross; see thou the means.

And for thy o'erwhelming terror See how those have fared who tried Before thee." and then directly I saw those who tried to pa.s.s Fall into the stream, where serpents Tore them in a thousand pieces With their claws and teeth's sharp edges.

I invoked the name of G.o.d, And could dare with it to venture To the other side to pa.s.s, Without yielding to the terror Of the winds and of the waves, Though they fearfully beset me.

Yes I pa.s.sed, and in a wood, So delightful and so fertile, Found me, that in it I could, After what had pa.s.sed, refresh me.

On my way as I advanced, Cedars, palms, their boughs extended, Trees of paradise indeed, As I may with strictness term them; All the ground being covered over With the rose and pink together Formed a carpet, in whose hues White and green and red were blended.

There the amorous song-birds sang Tenderly their sweet distresses, Keeping, with the thousand fountains Of the streams, due time and measure.

Then upon my vision broke A great city, proud and splendid, Which had even the sun itself For its towers' and turrets' endings; All the gates were of pure gold, Into which had been inserted Exquisitely, diamonds, rubies, Topaz, chrysolite, and emerald.

Ere I reached the gates they opened, And the saints in long procession Solemnly advanced to meet me, Men and women, youths and elders, Boys and girls and children came, All so joyful and contented.

Then the seraphim and angels, In a thousand choirs advancing, To their golden instruments Sang the symphonies of heaven; After them at last approached The most glorious and resplendent Patrick, the great patriarch, Who his gratulations telling That I had fulfilled my word Ere I died, as he expected, He embraced me; all displaying Joy and gladness in my welfare.

Thus encouraged he dismissed me, Telling me no mortal ever, While in life, that glorious city Of the saints could hope to enter; That once more unto the world I should go my days to end there.

Finally my way retracing, I came back, quite unmolested By the dark infernal spirits, And at last the gate of entrance Having reached, you all came forward To receive me and attend me.

And since I from so much danger Have escaped, oh! deign to let me, Pious fathers, here remain Till my life is happily ended.**

[footnote] *Asonante in e--e, which is kept up to the end.

[footnote] **For the account of St. Patrick's Purgatory, as given by Messingham, see Notes.

For with this the history closes, As it is to us presented By Dionysius the Carthusian, With Henricus Salteriensis, Matthew Paris, Ranulph Higden, And Caesarius Heisterbacensis, Marcus Marulus, Mombritius, David Rothe, the prudent prelate, And Vice-Primate of all Ireland, Belarminus, Dimas Serpi, Bede, Jacobus, and Solinus, Messingham, and to express it In a word, the Christian faith And true piety that defend it.

For the play is ended where Its applause, I hope, commences.*

[footnote] *For an explanation of this list of names, now for the first time correctly printed, see Note on "The authorities for the Legend, as given by Calderon."

THE END.

NOTES.

ACT THE FIRST.

SCENE II., p. 247.

"Patrick is my name, my country Ireland, and an humble hamlet Scarcely known to men, called 'Empthor', Is my place of birth."

The pa.s.sage in the original is as follows:-- "Mi propio nombre es Patricio, Mi patria Irland o Hibernia, Mi pueblo 'es Tax.'"

'Hartzenbusch', t. I, p. 150.

This is the reading of all the editions, and has been adopted in the German translation of the drama by Al. Jeitteles (Brunn, 1824).

"Tax" looks very unlike the name of a village, and it appears to me to be simply a misprint. The whole of this speech of St. Patrick is taken from the 'Vida y Purgatorio' of Juan Perez de Montalvan. The description of St. Patrick's birth-place, as given by Montalvan, is as follows:-- "En cuya jurisdicion ay un Pueblo, de pocos moradores, Ilamado "Emptor". Aqui nacio un moco," etc. (edition of 1664, f. I.) It is quite plain that "es Tax" in Calderon's play is an easily understood misprint for the "Emptor" of Montalvan.

"Mi patria Irlanda o Hibernia, Mi pueblo Emptor,"

even metrically, is a better reading than -- "Mi patria Irlanda o Hibernia, Mi pueblo es Tax."

In the hymn of St. Fiacc, a contemporary of the Apostle, the birthplace of St. Patrick is said to have been at "Empthor," or "Nemthur," as it is sometimes printed. The same locality is a.s.signed to it in the "Tripart.i.te Life of Saint Patrick", but considerable controversy has arisen as to the exact position of the place. See "The Life of Saint Patrick", by P. Lynch, Dublin, 1828: "St. Patrick, Apostle of Ireland", by J. H. Todd, D.D. (1864); and "The Life of St.

Patrick", by M. F. Cusack, Kenmare, Co. Kerry (1869), a most elaborate and very beautiful work.

SCENE II., p. 252.

This long address of Patrick is founded on the following pa.s.sages of the story as originally told in Montalvan's "Vida y Purgatorio de San Patricio", Madrid, 1627. The translation is made as literal as possible, to show how closely Calderon followed even the language of Montalvan.

Chapter I. -- "Between the north and west is situated the Island of Hibernia, or Ireland, as it is at present more usually called. It was once known as the Island of Saints, because its inhabitants were ever ready to shed their blood in the lists of martyrdom, which is the highest proof of courage which the Faithful can give; since life being so dear to us, it is a most heroic act for the sake of religion to offer it to the sacrilegious hands of a tyrant that only lives in seeing others die.

"In this island there was a village with a few inhabitants, called Emptor, which the sea, like a cincture of snow, not only encircled but appeared to bind. Here was born a youth of such virtuous dispositions that he seemed to belie the promise of his years, since virtue and adolescence are not easily reconciled. He gave himself much to the reading of the Lives of the Saints, of whose exercises he was a great imitator, very fearful of those snares which lie in the way of youth, and which, though he escaped, he was not without a disposition to fall into." . . . .

[This youth was St. Patrick's father, who married Conchessa, a French lady, as mentioned by Calderon, who, in the older Lives of St.

Patrick, is said to have been the sister of St. Martin of Tours.

After the birth of Patrick, St. Conchessa, his mother, retired to a convent, and his father became a priest. The story then continues.]

"Patrick remained in his early years under the tutelage of his aunt, and G.o.d was so desirous of showing to the world the favours with which He had pre-determined to honour that pure soul, that He did not wait for the time when Patrick would be of an age to ask for them; since before he could speak the words G.o.d declared Himself his friend. For a blind man, Gormas (a neighbour of his in that village), heard one day a voice in the air which said to him, that ifhe went to Patrick (a child recently baptised), who would with his right hand make the sign of the cross upon his eyes, he would be restored to sight. He did so, and saw: G.o.d no doubt to foreshadow by this the great things that he would eventually work through this His servant.

And this predestination, as it were, He made more remarkable by another miracle, which, if it was not greater, was more acknowledged and more widely known from the number of persons who were astonished at beholding it. In a certain year, it happened that such a quant.i.ty of snow had fallen from heaven, so great was the extent of the thaw when the sun melted it, that the water covered all the ground, and grew to the dimensions of a lake, which, spreading into the village, inundated all the houses, putting even that of Patrick in the greatest danger. But he, being then only ten years old, with a lively and courageous faith made the sign of the cross upon the waters, and in the sight of all compelled them to retire into the bed of the sea, the land remaining as dry and as free from snow as in the height of summer. . . . .

"One morning, being about the age of sixteen years, as he stood by the sh.o.r.e of the sea, reciting the Psalter with some of his companions, certain pirates made a sudden descent upon the coast, and having seized them, re-embarked immediately through fear of being baulked of their prize. Patrick was brought to a remote extremity of Ireland, and, like another Joseph, was sold to a prince of that island, who, thinking him fit for nothing else, gave to him the care of his sheep. This was an occupation very agreeable to Patrick, for as love can avow itself more openly in solitude, he spent all the night and all the day in loving and conversing with G.o.d, making altars of the rocks and of the flowers, on which to make to Him the entire sacrifice of his heart.

"The astonishing increase of the flock, which multiplied every day beneath his charge, soon became known to his master, who, being one night asleep, saw among the obscure visions of his dreams his slave Patrick rejoicing and surrounded by a great light, from whose mouth issued a beautiful and resplendent flame, which touching his two daughters, who he thought were by his side, burned them and reduced them to ashes, leaving himself alone untouched by that sweet and amorous flame. Frightened at such an astonishing vision, scarcely had the day come, when he sent for his slave and related to him what had occurred, asking him to explain the mystery of that terrible dream. To which Patrick replied, with great tranquillity, that the flame which he had seen come from his mouth could only be the Faith of the most Holy Trinity, which for a long time he had desired to preach to him and his daughters. And further, that it was because this doctrine would make no impression on his soul the flame refused to touch him, he dying blind in his infidelity. But because his daughters would eventually be convinced of the truth, G.o.d permitted them to be burned by the flame of His Faith and His Love, so as to fulfil the end for which they were created. With this Patrick took leave of his master and returned to his flock, leaving him so confused that he did not know whether he should punish him for what he had announced; all which happened in the manner the saint had predicted.

"In this way he lived some years, and our Lord, seeing that the solitude in which His servant pa.s.sed his life in the fields was very great, sent to him as a companion his guardian angel, Victor, to whom he could communicate his thoughts, and from whom he would receive consolation in his slavery. But one night, being engaged in prayer, and yielding his spirit to a divine ecstasy and rapture, he saw as in a mirror a man of dignified appearance, whose dress gave him to understand that he was of the same country as himself. This personage seemed to be the bearer of a letter, the superscription of which Patrick approaching to read, he saw these words: -- 'The voice of the Irish people'. And as he hastened to open the letter to see its contents, it seemed that within it were all the inhabitants of Ireland, men, women, and children, even the little infants, all crying out to him and saying, "Patrick, Patrick, we implore that you will come to us and free us from this slavery." The Saint upon this awoke, and consulting his angel, asked him to be released from his captivity, since he had a great desire to return to his country and a.s.sist those who had such need of him." -- 'Vida y Purgatorio de S.

Patricio', per el Doctor Juan Perez de Montalvan. Madrid, 1628, and Madrid, 1664.

[The visit to St. Germain in France is then described: his residence with St. Martin of Tours, the journey to Rome, and all the other events follow in detail, which Montalvan collected from Messingham, Messingham's chief authority being the Life of St. Patrick, by Jocelin. These are all briefly epitomised in the address of the Angel Victor, as given by Calderon at the end of the first act.]

SCENE II., p. 262.

The story of Luis Enius, as given by Calderon in this long address, seems to be entirely the invention of Montalvan. It is told in the sixth chapter of his "Vida y Purgatorio de San Patricio", and in the edition of 1628 fills over forty pages. Calderon follows the narrative very closely, but in one noticeable incident he greatly improves upon his predecessor. This is in the celebrated skeleton scene of the third act. The corresponding scene in Montalvan's story is puerile enough. In Montalvan Luis Enius has no interview with the skeleton, so powerfully described by Calderon. His conversion is effected by a floating piece of paper which had eluded his grasp for two nights, but which he seized on the third, and examined by a mysterious light at the foot of a cross. On the paper he perceived the representation of a skull, under which is written, "I am Luis Enius". How utterly ineffective and commonplace this is compared with the fine scene in Calderon need not be pointed out.