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• The Diversion : From ACT ONE , From ACT TWO

The Diversion, translated by John O'Neill

From ACT ONE

Context:

Marcela’s elderly servant Muñoz suggests that, in exchange for a new coat, he is prepared to help Cardenio gain access to Marcela by passing himself off as Don Silvestre, her cousin from Peru, who is to marry her. Dorotea, Marcela de Almendárez’s maid, is persuaded by Don Antonio’s behaviour that he is indeed harbouring incestuous feelings.

Sample text

MUÑOZ:

Listen, and pay great heed to this advice, my boy:
Don’t think that Marcela is of such fragile mettle
that she will be softened by go-betweens,
petitioning, persistence,
tears, sighs or true desire.
Cupid’s hardest shots are like soft wax to her.
She is like a rock in the sea
to love’s amorous waves,
touched but not moved.
This is how Marcela is.

CARDENIO:

Do not unnerve and frighten me.

TORRENTE:

Oh, how many of these diamonds
have I seen disintegrate?
How many have I seen
surrender to a nocturnal letter?
How many, without naming names,
have changed from objects to be won
into women of lost virtue?
How many abandon modesty
to follow whims?
How many falter in love’s sweet exchanges,
and fall flat on their backs?

MUÑOZ:

But Marcela does not stumble or fall.

TORRENTE:

Huh! That would be a miracle…

CARDENIO:

…Hold your tongue!
Extremes are found in nature nowadays,
And señor Muñoz knows his business.

MUÑOZ:

I am sure my description fits my señora,
even more than I am revealing,
but let us come to the point
of what I wish to say.

CARDENIO:

I am dying to hear it, Torrente.

MUÑOZ:

There lives in Lima
a brother of Marcela’s father,
a nobleman of illustrious
and unsullied lineage.
They say his share of Fortune’s goods was such,
that even the richest call him rich.
He has a son called Don Silvestre de Almendárez,
betrothed to Doña Marcela,
even though she is his cousin.
We expect him with each fleet,
but if he has not come
in the one just safely arrived
it is a stroke of luck for us.
I will give you information
so that you can pass yourself off as him,
and such that, however much they question you,
you will answer artfully.
Thus, giving credence to deceit,
your lies might be taken as truths.
They will put you up in their house,
showing you great hospitality.
Once inside, you’ll see
how you can take advantage.

CARDENIO:

That is all very well, but if by chance
the fleet is carrying letters from Don Silvestre,
and they discover he is not coming,
what will I do, trapped inside the house?
How will I make credible such a blatant lie,
so that I can proceed?

MUÑOZ:

You will say that,
after the letter had been written and posted,
your mother wanted you to come to Spain,
albeit without your father knowing,
and she, wanting to see herself with grandchildren,
who might prolong her name and posterity,
did not wish you to tarry.
Arriving incognito will excuse you, sir,
from not coming with riches
that might indicate who you are…
oh but do not fail to bring some bezoars,
and strings of pearls and talking parrots.

CARDENIO:

Thus I will spin a satisfactory yarn
that will get me out of the tight squeeze.

TORRENTE:

This is all madness!

CARDENIO:

Complete the inventory,
and specify those main points
that are fundamental to this new design,
so that they declare me
to be Don Silvestre himself.

MUÑOZ:

Come for it this afternoon.

CARDENIO:

My servant here will return for it.

TORRENTE:

I’ll return for it, God willing.
Without his help I cannot move,
or even sneeze!

MUÑOZ:

Sir, if by chance…if luck would have it
that you carrying another little escudo,
perhaps you could be liberal with it.
It’s winter, and there’s no flannel,
And it would not be right
if I who freeze your fire should suffer cold.

CARDENIO:

I do not have one, honestly,
but I will see to it
that you get your flannel coat,
The tailor will make it
at my expense.

MUÑOZ:

I will sell it, by God!
I will not allow Marcela
to flaunt the trophies
for which I sweated blood.
Let her dress me as she wishes,
so that I accompany her looking smart,
but wear out my flannel coat
serving someone else? Not likely!
I’m going, because it suits our purpose
to print the inventory
that backs up our fraud.
May God be with you.

Exit MUÑOZ.

CARDENIO:

A good beginning to my deception!

TORRENTE:

Better to call it a nonsense sir,
a tower built on toothpicks,
or little house of cards.
Tell me, where are the pearls?
Where are the bezoars,
the parakeets or parrots?
Where is the practical knowledge
of the Indies, of the ports and seas
to choose and navigate?
Where is the flannel and the tailor?
If you desire a happy ending to your affairs
I advise you always to carry the truth before you.
I am your servant,
and, since I am hungry,
my wit is always keen,
and my advice is astute.

CARDENIO:

I put my trust in Muñoz’s list.
Do not be faint-hearted.
In love’s enterprises
it is sometimes seen
that ingenuity and luck
are worth more than great riches.

TORRENTE:

May heaven get us out of this labyrinth
without a bloody nose.

Exeunt.

Enter MARCELA and DOROTEA, her servant.

DOROTEA:

Tell me my lady,
what proof has your brother given you
that might indicate some sinister intent.
I cannot bring myself to believe
that he loves you in a lustful way,
although that may be the case.

MARCELA:

It may indeed! Is it not well known
that Amon loved his sister Tamar,
and does not the story of Myrrha and her father
give us cause to fear these incestuous liaisons?

DOROTEA:

Nevertheless señora,
In truth I believe his desires
are of a more respectable nature.

MARCELA:

Please God that it may be so,
my dear Dorotea.
I hope he controls his urges.
He continually speaks my name, spies on me,
groans and sighs when by himself,
kisses and touches my hands,
and gives as an excuse for this
that I resemble his lady, who shares my name.

DOROTEA:

Has he by chance lost control,
and gone any further than you say?

MARCELA:

Certainly not! Nor did he express a wish to.

DOROTEA:

Well then, señora,
you should not be scandalised by this.
It could be that his lady does share your name,
and that she does resemble you,
if she is renowned for her beauty.

Enter DON ANTONIO, Marcela’s brother.

MARCELA:

Look how he arrives preoccupied,
so much so, that he does not notice us.
I find him a changed person.
Let us listen to him,
and see what he has to say.

DON ANTONIO:

It is your absence that kills,
not the disdain, although that is so fierce.
Oh hard, untimely, melancholy absence!
He who likened your power and violence
to death’s invincible fury
could not have known you very well.
When you pass sentence with such severity,
what more can an unfortunate person do
than shuffle off this mortal coil?
Your cruel scimitar extends to cleave my spirit.
Oh miracle of love, which no one understands,
from the place where my soul divides
bear away the most fragile part.
Oh Marcela, fugitive and deaf to my lament,
Do you wish, by disappearing,
that I should die a living death.
Where are you hiding?
What inhospitable climate encloses you?
Why does the pain that afflicts me
not wage war on your tranquility?
I see you before me always,
just beyond my reach.

MARCELA:

Is this not sufficient cause
to set one to think and fear?

DOROTEA:

Yes, absolutely!
Never let yourself alone with him, if possible.
Never give him the chance
to aspire to what can never be.
Through your purity,
care and circumspection,
defend yourself against his evil behaviour,
which is born of idleness.
Let us go – he must not see us.
Let him give rein to his intentions by himself!

MARCELA:

I share your very sound opinions, Dorotea.
Exeunt MARCELA and DOROTEA.

Copyright

The above sample taken from the translation The Diversion by John O'Neill is licensed under a Creative Commons License.

From ACT TWO

Context:

Cardenio, posing as Don Silvestre, and pretending that he is undertaking a pilgrimage to give thanks for having been rescued from a shipwreck, enters to pay his respects to Marcela. Torrente is smitten by Cristina and flirts with her, thus provoking Ocaña’s jealousy.

Sample text

DON ANTONIO:

Were your pious intentions
an excuse for the harshness
of avoiding us?

CARDENIO:

Yes señor, but I would be happy
for this debt to be paid off
in instalments, and if possible
after my pilgrimage,
from which I cannot be excused.

DON ANTONIO:

Fulfilling my wishes
easily lets you off.

CARDENIO:

Is this my lady and my cousin?

DON ANTONIO:

The very same.

CARDENIO:

Oh my lady,
you are a precious archive
where beauty’s greatest treasure is stored.
Do not deny me these feet,
since I do not deserve those hands.

DOROTEA:

These are very courteous pilgrims!

DON ANTONIO:

Do not overdo the courtesy, dear cousin –
my sister is ignorant of the matter.

MUÑOZ:

What he has in mind
has more to do with courting
than with courtesy!

MARCELA:

May I know your name señor,
so I may afford you due respect?

CARDENIO:

Your cousin don Silvestre de Almendárez,
shortly to be your husband.

MARCELA:

I will proceed quite differently
with such a celebrated guest.
I must give you my arms,
not my feet, dear cousin.

MUÑOZ: (Aside.)

I vouch these beginnings are sickly sweet
rather than affectionate!

CARDENIO:

It is as if the hurricane
could not thwart our fleet,
nor the rough, rebellious sea divert our course,
and as if my poor ship was not split
from mainmast to keel,
since I have arrived in such a port
and set foot on such a shore.
My riches were not consumed
by the waters that swallowed them,
since, by leaving me your goodness,
they have left me wealthier.
Today my fortunes swell,
since, with new life and being,
I, a pilgrim, come to see
the image of your beauty.

Enter OCAÑA.

OCAÑA:

My customary sadness
might perhaps attain some portion
of this common happiness.
From here I wish to look at you,
if you, the bitter impediment
of my misfortune,
the sum and all the parts
of my well-being
will let yourself be looked at.
Standing in this corner,
like some luckless lackey,
perhaps I will see
some resurrection
of my dead ambition.

MARCELA:

The greatest and most feared misfortune
is to lose one’s life.

DON ANTONIO:

Greater is to lose one’s honour.

MARCELA:

It is true, and since you come
with life and honour, cousin,
you would do badly to feel bad
about the bad that I esteem as good.
And by arriving here
you must agree
that you have found shelter
in a port where you will restore
the fortune cast into the ever-greedy sea.

CARDENIO:

Were I to be your husband
my good fortune would be assured.

TORRENTE:

Are you a maiden of this house?

CRISTINA:

No, of the street.

TORRENTE:

Surely not.
That figure is worthy of a palace.
Do you serve here?

CRISTINA:

It seems I am well-served.

TORRENTE:

That was a sharp riposte

OCAÑA:

Stay silent, my pretty.
Keep your lips sealed,
for you are already lost.

TORRENTE:

What is your name?

CRISTINA:

Cristina.

TORRENTE:

How sweet, but to come to my point,
do you like lying down?

CRISTINA:

I do not ‘lie down’.
That’s enough of that.
The boy from the Indies
is full of himself!

TORRENTE:

Señora, as you see,
I am a creole from Peru,
though I am drawn towards Burgundy.

DON ANTONIO:

You must rest, dear cousin,
and afterwards I should like to know
of the welfare of my aunt,
your father and my uncle.

OCAÑA:

Treacherous pilgrim,
how you look at her!
Oh, false woman,
how you keep pouring on the sauce
to please his tastes!

TORRENTE:

Would to God I had never come,
or, since I am here, that I had never loved,
or that, since I loved, love had shown itself
not hard as steel but soft as wax…

CARDENIO:

Your cards and presents
were deposited in the sea.

OCAÑA: (Aside.)

My heart is in my mouth.
I am about to die!

TORRENTE:

…or that this warrior kitchen-maid
did not fire such sharp arrows
from out of the two suns
set in her beautiful face,
or was less lovely and more human…

MARCELA:

Go in, señor, where you can
change into some decent clothes.

CARDENIO:

My promise to God does not allow that favour.

MUÑOZ: (Aside.)

His tempest does not seem to be a fake!
I do not, therefore, expect calm after the storm,
but a much more serious shipwreck.

CARDENIO:

I am temporarily unable to change my clothes.
The storm has brought about this poverty.

TORRENTE:

…Oh Love, restorer of life,
cure the anxieties of my soul,
which I cannot fit into a poem.

DON ANTONIO:

If your pilgrim’s plan were not so pious
I would have someone else perform it.

Copyright

The above sample taken from the translation The Diversion by John O'Neill is licensed under a Creative Commons License.

Entry written by Kathleen Jeffs. Last updated on 4 October 2010.

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