Act the First: Scene I
CYPRIAN. In the pleasant solitudeOf this tranquil spot, this thicketFormed of interlacing boughs,Buds, and flowers, and shrubs commingled,You may leave me, leaving also,As my best companions, with me,(For I need none else) those booksWhich I bad you to bring hitherFrom the house; for while, to-day,Antioch, the mighty city,Celebrates with such rejoicingThe great temple newly finishedUnto Jupiter, the bearingThither, also, of his imagePublicly, in grant procession,To its shrine to be uplifted;--I, escaping the confusionOf the streets and squares, have flittedHitherward, to spend in studyWhat of daylight yet may glimmer.Go, enjoy the festival,Go to Antioch and mingleIn its various sports, returningWhen the sun descending sinkethTo be buried in the waves,Which, beneath the dark clouds' fringes,Round the royal corse of gold,Shine like sepulchres of silver.Here you'll find me.
MOSCON. Sir, althoughMost decidedly my wish isTo behold the sports, yet ICannot go without a whisperOf some few five thousand words,Which I'll give you in a jiffy.Can it be that on a dayOf such free, such unrestrictedRevelry, and mirth, and fun,You with your old books come hitherTo this country place, rejectingAll the frolic of the city?
CLARIN. Well, I think my master's right;For there's nothing more insipidThan a grand procession day,Half fandangos, priests, and fiddles.
MOSCON. Clarin, from the first to last,All your life you've been a trickster,A smart temporizing toady,A bold flatterer, a trimmer,Since you praise the thoughts of others,And ne'er speak your own.
CLARIN. The civilWay to tell a man he liesIs to say he's wrong:--you twig me,Now I think I speak my mind.
CYPRIAN. Moscon, Clarin, both I bid yeCease this silly altercation.It is ever thus betwixt ye,Puffed up with your little knowledgeEach maintains his own opinion.Go, and (as I've said) here seek meWhen night falls, and with the thicknessOf its shadows veils from viewThis most fair and wondrous systemOf the universe.
MOSCON. How comes it,That although you have admitted'Tis not right to see the feast,Yet you go to see it?
CLARIN. SimpleIs the answer: no one followsThe advice which he has givenTo another.
MOSCON [aside]. To see Livia,Would the gods that I were winged.
CLARIN [aside]. If the honest truth were toldLivia is the girl that gives meSomething worth the living for.Even her very name has in itThis assurance: 'Livia', yes,Minus 'a', I live for 'Livi'.
Words in this poem
- cyprian a.
- Belonging to Cyprus.
- hitherward adv.
- Toward this place; hither. [AS. hiderweard.]
- daylight n.
- The light of day as opposed to the darkness of night; the light of the sun, as opposed to that of the moon or to artificial light.
- corse n.
- A living body or its bulk. [OF. cors, F. corps. See Corpse.]
- decidedly adv.
- In a decided manner; indisputably; clearly; thoroughly.
- jiffy n.
- A moment; an instant; as, I will be ready in a jiffy. [Perh. corrupt. fr. gliff.]
- trickster n.
- One who tricks; a deceiver; a tricker; a cheat.
- trimmer n.
- One who trims, arranges, fits, or ornaments.
- betwixt prep.
- In the space which separates; between. [OE. betwix, bitwix, rarely bitwixt, AS. betweox, betweohs, betweoh, betwih; pref. be- by + a form fr. AS. twa two. See Between.]
- wondrous adv.
- In a wonderful or surprising manner or degree; wonderfully. [OE. wonders, adv. (later also adj.). See Wonder, n., and cf. -wards.]
Definitions and etymologies from Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1913.
About this text
Act the First: Scene I is in the public domain. This text is taken from The Wonder-Working Magician, Project Gutenberg ebook #6372, the Denis Florence MacCarthy translation; the transcription's header, footer and licence were removed and nothing else was changed. You may copy, print and reuse it freely.
Cite as: Pedro Calderón de la Barca, Act the First: Scene I, in The Wonder-Working Magician (1873), text of Project Gutenberg ebook #6372, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/calderon-magico-prodigioso/act-the-first-scene-i.html, id L26598.
Form and metre
Act the First: Scene I is 81 lines in 10 stanzas. The metre is trochaic tetrameter, measured from the stress the words themselves fix (confidence 89%).
See other poems in trochaic tetrameter.
Measured by Laurel's pipeline, not copied from a handbook: how stress and metre are counted, how rhyme is lettered, how a drifted rhyme is found. Where the dictionary cannot confirm a rhyme the letter is withheld, not guessed.
Rhyme words, stanza by stanza
The word that ends each line, lettered by the rhyme it makes; a dash is a line whose rhyme the dictionary could not confirm.
- 1 -----A--------------------BBA solitude · thicket · boughs · commingled · also · meA · books · hither · day · city · rejoicing · finished · bearing · image · procession · uplifted · confusion · flitted · study · glimmer · festival · mingle · returning · sinketh · waves · fringes · goldB · silverB · meA
- 6 A-A--AB--B yeA · altercation · yeA · knowledge · opinion · meA · thicknessB · view · system · universeB
- 7 A--A itA · admitted · feast · itA
Scansion, line by line
Each line with its syllable count and the stresses the words themselves fix: / stressed, ˘ unstressed, · a syllable the word leaves free and the metre decides. Read against trochaic tetrameter. How this is done.
| Line | Syl. | Stress |
|---|---|---|
| CYPRIAN. In the pleasant solitude | 9 | /˘··/˘/˘· |
| Of this tranquil spot, this thicket | 8 | ··/˘··/˘ |
| Formed of interlacing boughs, | 8 | ·˘··˘/˘· |
| Buds, and flowers, and shrubs commingled, | 9 | ··/˘··˘/˘ |
| You may leave me, leaving also, | 8 | ····/˘/˘ |
| As my best companions, with me, | 8 | ···˘/˘·· |
| (For I need none else) those books | 7 | ······· |
| Which I bad you to bring hither | 8 | ······/˘ |
| From the house; for while, to-day, | 7 | ······· |
| Antioch, the mighty city, | 8 | /˘··/˘/˘ |
| Celebrates with such rejoicing | 8 | /˘···˘/˘ |
| The great temple newly finished | 8 | ··/˘/˘/˘ |
| Unto Jupiter, the bearing | 8 | ··/˘˘·/˘ |
| Thither, also, of his image | 8 | /˘/˘··/˘ |
| Publicly, in grant procession, | 8 | /˘˘··˘/˘ |
| To its shrine to be uplifted;-- | 8 | ·····/˘˘ |
| I, escaping the confusion | 8 | ·˘/˘·˘/˘ |
| Of the streets and squares, have flitted | 8 | ······/˘ |
| Hitherward, to spend in study | 8 | /˘˘···/˘ |
| What of daylight yet may glimmer. | 8 | ··/···/˘ |
| Go, enjoy the festival, | 7 | ·˘/·/˘˘ |
| Go to Antioch and mingle | 8 | ··/˘··/˘ |
| In its various sports, returning | 9 | ··/˘˘·˘/˘ |
| When the sun descending sinketh | 8 | ···˘/˘/˘ |
| To be buried in the waves, | 7 | ··/˘··· |
| Which, beneath the dark clouds' fringes, | 8 | ······/˘ |
| Round the royal corse of gold, | 7 | ··/˘··· |
| Shine like sepulchres of silver. | 7 | ·····/˘ |
| Here you'll find me. | 4 | ···· |
| MOSCON. Sir, although | 5 | ····· |
| Most decidedly my wish is | 8 | ·˘/˘˘··· |
| To behold the sports, yet I | 7 | ·˘/···· |
| Cannot go without a whisper | 8 | /˘····/˘ |
| Of some few five thousand words, | 7 | ····/˘· |
| Which I'll give you in a jiffy. | 8 | ······/˘ |
| Can it be that on a day | 7 | ······· |
| Of such free, such unrestricted | 8 | ·····˘/˘ |
| Revelry, and mirth, and fun, | 7 | /˘˘···· |
| You with your old books come hither | 8 | ······/˘ |
| To this country place, rejecting | 8 | ··/˘·˘/˘ |
| All the frolic of the city? | 8 | ··/˘··/˘ |
| CLARIN. Well, I think my master's right; | 9 | ······/˘· |
| For there's nothing more insipid | 8 | ··/˘·˘/˘ |
| Than a grand procession day, | 7 | ···˘/˘· |
| Half fandangos, priests, and fiddles. | 8 | ·˘/···/˘ |
| MOSCON. Clarin, from the first to last, | 9 | ········· |
| All your life you've been a trickster, | 8 | ······/˘ |
| A smart temporizing toady, | 8 | ··/˘·˘/˘ |
| A bold flatterer, a trimmer, | 8 | ··/˘˘·/˘ |
| Since you praise the thoughts of others, | 8 | ······/˘ |
| And ne'er speak your own. | 5 | ····· |
| CLARIN. The civil | 5 | ···/˘ |
| Way to tell a man he lies | 7 | ······· |
| Is to say he's wrong:--you twig me, | 8 | ········ |
| Now I think I speak my mind. | 7 | ······· |
| CYPRIAN. Moscon, Clarin, both I bid ye | 10 | /˘········ |
| Cease this silly altercation. | 8 | ··/˘·˘/˘ |
| It is ever thus betwixt ye, | 8 | ··/˘·˘/· |
| Puffed up with your little knowledge | 8 | ····/˘/˘ |
| Each maintains his own opinion. | 8 | ·˘/··˘/˘ |
| Go, and (as I've said) here seek me | 8 | ········ |
| When night falls, and with the thickness | 8 | ······/˘ |
| Of its shadows veils from view | 7 | ··/···· |
| This most fair and wondrous system | 8 | ····/˘/˘ |
| Of the universe. | 5 | ··/˘· |
| MOSCON. How comes it, | 5 | ····· |
| That although you have admitted | 8 | ·····˘/˘ |
| 'Tis not right to see the feast, | 7 | ······· |
| Yet you go to see it? | 6 | ······ |
| CLARIN. Simple | 4 | ··/˘ |
| Is the answer: no one follows | 8 | ··/˘··/˘ |
| The advice which he has given | 8 | ·˘/···/˘ |
| To another. | 4 | ·˘/˘ |
| MOSCON [aside]. To see Livia, | 9 | ··˘/··/˘˘ |
| Would the gods that I were winged. | 8 | ·······˘ |
| CLARIN [aside]. If the honest truth were told | 11 | ··˘/··/˘··· |
| Livia is the girl that gives me | 8 | /˘······ |
| Something worth the living for. | 7 | /˘··/˘· |
| Even her very name has in it | 8 | /·/˘···· |
| This assurance: 'Livia', yes, | 8 | ·˘/˘/˘˘· |
| Minus 'a', I live for 'Livi'. | 8 | /˘······ |
The reader shows the same poem with its rhymes coloured and a stress row above each line, the notes beside their stanzas, and any word's definition on a tap; the analysis page takes the whole book apart. How every part of this site was made.