DON JUAN (Don Giovanni)

It was night-time in Seville. A few distant lights were still calmly reflected in the peaceful river; but in the splendid palace of Don Pedro, the Commandant, darkness and silence reigned, for all the household had retired to rest. In the courtyard without, a stream of pale moonlight fell, outlining the stately building with ghostly clearness, and making the long dark shadows even deeper and more sombre still; and all was so quiet that not a sound was to be heard save the soft swaying of the trees when a stray breeze gently caught them.

Yet within the shadows, a man was crouching, vainly trying to find rest upon a hard stone seat, and though inwardly fretting and fuming, he did not betray his presence even by a sigh. For Leporello, confidential body-servant to Don Juan, the handsomest and most licentious cavalier in the whole of Seville, was quite used to midnight vigils, and many a dozen times had he kept watch in the chilly gloom without the walls of some fair lady's dwelling, whilst his gay, libertine master enjoyed a secret amour within. Usually, the pair afterwards departed as quietly as they had come; but to-night this was not to be.

Suddenly, the stillness of the night was broken by loud shrieks coming from within the building, and next moment Don Juan rushed from the palace out into the moonlit courtyard, closely pursued by a beautiful lady. This lady was Don Pedro's only daughter, the fair young Donna Anna, who, discovering a strange cavalier in her chamber, had fled from him with shrieks of alarm; but when the intruder, fearing that her cries would arouse the household, had retreated to the courtyard, her courage had returned, and she had pursued him in order to discover his identity. She caught up with the retreating cavalier in the courtyard, and dragging at the dark cloak that enveloped him, endeavoured vainly to scan his hidden features.

However, Don Juan roughly shook her off; but ere he had time to escape over the wall, Don Pedro, the Commandant, attracted thither by his daughter's shrieks, hastened out into the courtyard, with a drawn sword in his hand.

Quickly grasping the situation, the Commandant furiously challenged the intruder to combat, determined to defend the honour of his beloved child to his utmost. Don Juan, finding that there was no other escape for him, quickly crossed swords with his assailant; and, being a fatal adept in such encounters, he soon stretched Don Pedro dead at his feet.

The servant Leporello, who had prudently remained in hiding during the whole scene, now came from the shadows, and the pair hastily made their escape over the wall.

Meanwhile, Donna Anna had rushed back to the palace to bring assistance to her father; but when, on returning to the courtyard with her betrothed lover, Don Octavio, and several sleepy servants, she found that her beloved parent was already dead, she uttered a terrible shriek, and fell fainting upon his prostrate body.

Full of grief, Don Octavio gently restored the poor girl to consciousness once more, comforting her with tender words and bidding her regard him as her protector; and then, as the servants bore the dead Commandant back to the palace, Anna implored her betrothed to swear that he would aid her in bringing vengeance upon the murderer of her father. Gladly Don Octavio gave his word; and there, in the courtyard beneath the moonlit sky, the lovers registered their solemn vow.

Meanwhile, Don Juan and his servant had escaped to a lonely inn on the borders of his own estate, which lay just outside the walls of the city; and next morning, the gay cavalier, hardened by long indulgence in vice, and utterly regardless of the crime he had committed the night before, came jauntily forth into the courtyard, thinking only of conquests still in store for him. It was in vain that Leporello, who occasionally had qualms of conscience, warned his master that his evil course would sooner or later bring fell disaster upon him; for Don Juan cared not for the consequences of his sins, so long as he could satisfy his inborn craving for evil pleasure.

So, on coming forth from the inn, and seeing a veiled and cloaked lady, evidently a traveller, in the courtyard, he withdrew with Leporello behind some trees to watch her unobserved. As the lady drew near, she wrung her hands in distress, and from a few incoherent sentences uttered as she passed, the hidden watchers gathered that she had been abandoned by some false lover whom she angrily sought, in order to avenge herself upon him.

Don Juan now stepped forward with his usual gallant air, and accosted her; but as the young lady flung back her veil, he recognised, to his dismay, the features of a beautiful lady of Burgos, Donna Elvira, whom he had but recently betrayed and cast aside.

Instantly recognising the recreant lover who had so cruelly abandoned her, Donna Elvira began to pour forth bitter reproaches upon him; but Don Juan, callously familiar with such scenes, pushed forward Leporello, bidding him explain matters to the lady.

Then, as Donna Elvira eagerly approached the servant for his explanation, the heartless cavalier slyly made his escape; and when the poor lady presently turned impatiently from the vapid string of empty words uttered pompously by the experienced Leporello, she found that her expected prey had vanished. Bidding her be of good comfort, since she was neither the first nor the last of his master's numberless victims, Leporello now produced a book from his pocket, in which he had written the names of all the fair maidens who had been basely deceived in similar fashion; and having thus proved that she shared her abandoned position with many others, the servant suddenly took to his heels and ran away down the country road that led to Don Juan's estate.

For a few minutes, Elvira remained stunned, for she had loved Don Juan with her whole heart, willingly yielding herself to his embraces and insinuating temptations, and trusting fondly to his false promises; but now, dishonoured, betrayed, abandoned, she at last saw him in his true colours—a heartless libertine. Full of grief and rage, she determined to avenge herself for her outraged affections and ruined life; and knowing that her betrayer's residence was in the neighbourhood, she hurried along the road taken by Leporello.

When Don Juan arrived at his palace he found that great revels were being held by the peasants on the estates, in honour of the betrothal of a pair of rustic lovers; and seeing that the bride-elect, Zerlina, was an extremely pretty maiden, the gay lord of the soil determined to amuse himself with her.

Consequently, when Leporello presently arrived (having taken a short cut from the road), he bade him conduct all the peasants immediately to the palace, and entertain them with feasting and dancing within the banquet-hall and garden, whispering an injunction to keep the future bridegroom, Masetto, specially occupied.

As the merry rustics, eager for such an unexpected treat, trooped away willingly to the palace, Don Juan detained the pretty Zerlina, and putting his arm round her waist and whispering honeyed words of admiration and flattery, endeavoured to lead her aside to a secluded woodland glade.

The simple Zerlina, accustomed only to the clumsy love-making of a rustic clown, was greatly impressed by the ardent glances and sweet persuasive caresses of the great lord; and when Don Juan, declaring passionately that she should become his bride and never be wed to the boor, Masetto, presently led her to a small summer pavilion which he said should be her home, she gave way to the dazzling charm of the moment, and suffered herself to be led away with a beating heart.

But just at this moment, Donna Elvira, who, having found her way into the grounds, had watched and overheard the whole of this pretty scene, rushed forward, and dragging Zerlina to one side, explained to her that Don Juan was but an evil deceiver, who meant to ruin her. Zerlina, now full of horror, shrank back ashamed, and Elvira, throwing a glance of scorn at the faithless gallant, put a protecting arm round the frightened girl, and drew her gently away.

As the discomfited Don Juan turned angrily aside, he encountered a lady in deep mourning and a cavalier, who had just entered the grounds; and as he greeted them, he saw, to his dismay, that they were Donna Anna and her betrothed, Don Octavio. However, Anna did not at first recognise in him her father's midnight slayer; and having come with her lover to ask Don Juan's help in finding the villain who had brought such misery upon her, the pair quickly made known their quest, and the double-dealing cavalier promised to give them his aid.

But whilst they were thus talking together, Donna Elvira returned, and declaring earnestly to the two strangers that Don Juan was a false villain, implored them not to place any faith in his promises. Don Juan, coolly announcing that Elvira was a mad-woman, pretended to try and soothe her frenzy; but the poor lady, stung by this fresh outrage, reiterated her knowledge of his sins, and then, fearing she would not be believed, hurried away.

Don Juan, glad to escape, followed her by another path, saying that he wished to see she did herself no harm; and when he had gone, Donna Anna, who had been watching him constantly, declared to her betrothed that she now knew it was Don Juan who had been her would-be ravisher, and the murderer of her beloved father, since his agitated voice and angry gestures when disturbed by Elvira had betrayed him.

Full of horror that they had thus unwittingly sought help from the very villain they wished to punish, the lovers hurried after the retreating Elvira, whom they soon overtook; and after having listened to the sad story she had to tell of herself, the three determined to bring retribution on Don Juan, and to begin their scheme by exposing him as a villain before his own assembled guests that night. Having returned to the inn, they disguised themselves in long black dominoes and half-masks; and then when darkness fell they made their way back to the palace grounds, where they were soon seen by Leporello and invited to enter the great hall.

Meanwhile, the sly Leporello had also enticed back the timid Zerlina to the revels, and more than once Don Juan had tried to draw her away with him. But the rustic lover, Masetto, was jealous and suspicious of the great lord's attentions to his pretty sweetheart; and several times during the afternoon he had lain in wait behind bushes and stepped out in time to prevent a stolen interview. Zerlina tried to soothe him with her pretty coaxing ways, feeling that her high-born cavalier merely admired her, and meant her no harm; but later on she was undeceived.

The revels were to end in a masked ball at night, and as soon as darkness fell, the delighted peasants, all decked in dominoes and masks, trooped gaily into the palace once more, to dance and feast in the banquet-hall.

Don Juan, gorgeously attired, moved authoritatively about the gilded salons, ordering every kind of comfort and delight for his lively guests; but all the while he kept a watchful eye upon the pretty Zerlina, determined to gratify his sudden passion for her that evening. At last his opportunity occurred; and having bidden Leporello keep Masetto occupied for a short time, he secured Zerlina for a partner in the dance, and in its mazy movements sought to draw her into a private inner room.

Donna Anna and her two companions watched this man?uvre with anger in their hearts; and when Don Juan's fell purpose presently became patent to all, they pulled off their masks and denounced him before his own guests as a base villain, relating the many evil things they knew of him.

Masetto, now roused to fury, rushed boldly forward to attack his enemy, calling on his friends to help him; but Don Juan quickly drew his sword, and clearing a way for himself, managed to make his escape.

Seeing that their prey had slipped through their grasp once more, Donna Anna and her betrothed returned to the city; and shortly afterwards Elvira also took up her abode in Seville, hiring a house, and taking Zerlina with her as her maid.

Here, however, as the weeks went on, they were again discovered by the irrepressible Don Juan; and, still determined to carry on his amour with the pretty peasant girl, the gay cavalier repaired one dark evening to the courtyard of Elvira's house, where he hastily exchanged outer garments with his servant, Leporello.

When Elvira presently appeared at an open window, Don Juan from the darkness below called softly to her, declaring that he loved her yet, and begging her to come down and receive his caresses once more. The susceptible Elvira, who still loved her false sweetheart in spite of her better judgment, could not long resist this tender invitation, and presently came out into the courtyard, and fell into the arms of Leporello, who, wrapped in his master's cloak and hat, she mistook for Don Juan.

Then, taking fright at a noise purposely made by the real Don Juan, she allowed herself to be hurried out into the street beyond by the disguised Leporello.

Having thus secured the courtyard to himself, Don Juan began to sing a serenade to Zerlina, whom he knew was within the house; but he was almost immediately set upon by Masetto and a party of rustics, who had been closely following on his track ever since the night of the ball.

However, seeing that his assailants quickly recognised Leporello's garments and regarded him as the servant, Don Juan kept up the pretence, and professing sympathy with their cause, soon sent the rustics off in another direction on a wild-goose chase after their enemy; and then, having enticed Masetto to remain behind under pretence of inspecting his weapons, he presently struck the poor peasant a stunning blow and rushed off leaving him helpless on the ground.

Zerlina, attracted by the noise, now came forth from the house and helped the fallen man to rise; and recognising her lover with joy, she comforted him as best she could and afterwards accompanied him down the street in search of his companions.

Meanwhile, Elvira and the disguised Leporello had sought refuge in the courtyard outside the house of Donna Anna; and here they were presently discovered by Anna herself, who came out from the building to walk in the cool evening air with her betrothed, Don Octavio. Leporello tried to escape, but being met at the entrance by Masetto and Zerlina, who were passing at that moment, he was immediately set upon by them, and in order to protect himself, was compelled to reveal his true identity.

It was now evident to Donna Anna and her lover that Don Juan was still in the neighbourhood, and as they had already proved him to be the midnight assassin of the Commandant, Don Octavio declared that he would at once seek out the officers of Justice, and seize the base cavalier in his own palace that very night.

When Don Octavio had hurried away to carry out this purpose, Leporello tried to make his escape; but he was seen by Zerlina, who quickly pursued and caught him, owing him a grudge for having, as she supposed, belaboured her lover. Flourishing before him a razor she had secured from Donna Anna's palace, she bade him sit down in a stone seat near by; and when, in fear for his life, he had meekly done so, she firmly bound him hand and foot to the seat, and left him in a sorry plight.

For some time Leporello writhed and struggled vainly to free himself; but at length, to his joy, a peasant came by, and in answer to his cries, cut the cords that bound him.

Full of aches and pains, Leporello went off in search of his master, whom he found in an open square before the Cathedral of Seville, and approaching him with a woeful limp, declared to the waiting cavalier in aggrieved tones that he had been half-killed in his service.

Don Juan, however, only laughed at him, and being in a very gay mood, immediately began to tell his grumbling servant of several other lively adventures he had just experienced in pursuit of pretty maidens.

Now, in the centre of the square a splendid equestrian statue in marble had already been erected to the memory of the late Commandant, Don Pedro, bearing upon its pedestal the following inscription:

    "I herewith await the vengeance decreed by Heaven unto the wretch who slew me!"

Whilst Don Juan was in the midst of his gay story, a sound of muffled words seemed to come from the Statue; and Leporello, full of terror, fell on his knees, trembling. Don Juan, however, bade him read out the inscription on the pedestal; and when the frightened servant had done so, he next gaily bade him invite the Statue to his palace for supper that night.

But, overcome by superstitious fears, Leporello could not find courage to do so, and it was not until his master threatened to thrust his sword through him that he at length uttered aloud the invitation he had been bidden to give. The Statue immediately bowed its head in response to the invitation, to the increasing alarm of Leporello, who uttered a loud shriek; but Don Juan, laughingly declaring that the Statue's movement was only fancy, dragged the quaking servant away, and repaired at once to his palace.

It so happened that the gay cavalier was indeed holding a splendid supper party that night, having invited a number of beautiful ladies to feast with him; and on arriving at the palace, he found his guests already assembled. He joined them at the table at once, whilst Leporello began to wait on the party; and in a short time the palace was filled with the sounds of music and revelry.

But suddenly, in the very midst of the feast, Donna Elvira appeared in the banquet-hall; for, still having a spark of love left in her heart for her false lover, she had come to warn him of his approaching danger, and to entreat him to repent whilst he still had time. But Don Juan, now recklessly hilarious, only laughed aloud at her entreaties; and Elvira, full of angry despair, declared she should now leave him to his fate.

But just as she reached the door she uttered a terrific shriek, which was quickly taken up by others near the entrance; for coming up the stairs with heavy, measured tread, they saw the Statue of the late Don Pedro, on foot, with a fierce look of righteous wrath upon its marble face!

Full of terror, the ladies fled from the room, whilst Leporello hid beneath the supper-table; and when the Statue presently entered the banquet-hall, all the lights suddenly burnt dim, and gradually went out altogether.

Don Juan stared at his strange visitor in utter astonishment, and demanded its business; and when the Statue of the Commandant replied in sepulchral tones that it had come to the feast in answer to his own invitation, the gay host attempted to regain his self-possession, and ordered Leporello to lay the table afresh.

But as Leporello crawled forth from his hiding-place, the Statue declared that, as its spirit dwelt in Heaven, it needed not mortal food; and turning to Don Juan, it said: "Thou badst me to thy banquet, and I, in turn, now invite thee to mine! Wilt come?"

Leporello implored his master to refuse; but Don Juan, scorning to show fear, recklessly accepted at once, and took the outstretched hand of his visitor in pledge of the compact. But when the icy-cold fingers of the Statue closed on his own in a grip like that of a vice, a shiver of intense fear passed through the whole frame of the cavalier; and feeling that his last hour had come, he struggled vainly to free himself. But the Statue only held him the tighter, and in deep, solemn tones, bade him repent, ere Heaven's sentence was passed upon him.

But Don Juan, though full of mortal fear, scorned repentance, and in spite of the entreaties of Leporello, and the further injunctions of the Statue, still passionately shrieked out his defiance. Then the Statue in an appalling voice declared that his doom was passed, and letting its victim's hand drop, it suddenly sank through the flooring into the ground below.

At the same moment, fierce flames sprang up on all sides, and from the deep abyss that had just engulfed the Statue, a host of demons rushed forth and seized Don Juan in their scorching grasp. It was in vain that the wretched man shrieked and struggled in their embrace, for in spite of his frantic efforts to free himself, they quickly overcame him, and sprang back into the fiery abyss, dragging their victim with them.

Then the flames died away, and the chasm closed; and when, next moment, Don Octavio entered with his friends and the officers of Justice, the banquet-hall had assumed its usual aspect once more.

But justice had already overtaken the offender they sought; and when Leporello presently described in trembling accents the visit of the Commandant's Statue, and the terrible doom that had overtaken his wicked master, all declared that vengeance was satisfied, since the Statue had fulfilled its vow.

Zerlina and Masetto now agreed to be married the very next day; and Donna Anna, since her father's death was at last avenged, smiled upon her faithful lover, and placed her hand in his, declaring that happiness might now be theirs.