"See ye not here this rock some power secureth"
Dublin Core
Title
"See ye not here this rock some power secureth"
Subject
Theatre--Seventeenth Century--Pedro Calderón de la Barca--Saint Patrick's Purgatory
Description
"SCENE XIX.
POLONIA. — THE SAME..."
POLONIA. — THE SAME..."
Creator
Pedro Calderón de la Barca, 1600-1681
Source
Barca, Pedro Calderón de la, The Purgatory of St. Patrick, trans. by Denis Florence MacCarthy, Act II, Scene XIX
Publisher
Henry S. King & Co., London
Date
1873
Contributor
Digitised for Project Gutenberg
Rights
Public domain
Format
Collected Plays
Language
Spanish (English trans.)
Type
Play
Text
Identifier
DD_0067
Coverage
54.6083, -7.8714
References
http://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/6371
Text Item Type Metadata
Text
"SCENE XIX.
POLONIA. — THE SAME.
POLONIA. Oh, stay,
Wandering from the path astray,
Hapless crowd, rash, indiscreet,
Turn away your erring feet,
For misfortune lies that way.
Here from myself with hurried footsteps flying,
I dared to treat this wilderness profound,
Beneath the mountain whose proud top defying
The pure bright sunbeam is with huge rocks crowned,
Hoping that here, as in its dark grave lying,
Never my sin could on the earth be found,
And I myself might find a port of peace
Where all the tempests of the world might cease.
No polar star had hostile fate decreed me,
As on my perilous path I dared to stray,
So great its pride, no hand presumed to lead me,
And guide my silent footstep on its way.
Not yet the aspect of the place has freed me
From the dread terror, anguish and dismay,
Which were awakened by this mountain's gloom,
And all the hidden wonders of its womb.
See ye not here this rock some power secureth,
That grasps with awful toil the hill-side brown,
And with the very anguish it endureth
Age after age seems slowly coming down?
Suspended there with effort, it obscureth
A mighty cave beneath, which it doth crown;—
An open mouth the horrid cavern shapes,
Wherewith the melancholy mountain gapes." (Act II, Scene XIX)
POLONIA. — THE SAME.
POLONIA. Oh, stay,
Wandering from the path astray,
Hapless crowd, rash, indiscreet,
Turn away your erring feet,
For misfortune lies that way.
Here from myself with hurried footsteps flying,
I dared to treat this wilderness profound,
Beneath the mountain whose proud top defying
The pure bright sunbeam is with huge rocks crowned,
Hoping that here, as in its dark grave lying,
Never my sin could on the earth be found,
And I myself might find a port of peace
Where all the tempests of the world might cease.
No polar star had hostile fate decreed me,
As on my perilous path I dared to stray,
So great its pride, no hand presumed to lead me,
And guide my silent footstep on its way.
Not yet the aspect of the place has freed me
From the dread terror, anguish and dismay,
Which were awakened by this mountain's gloom,
And all the hidden wonders of its womb.
See ye not here this rock some power secureth,
That grasps with awful toil the hill-side brown,
And with the very anguish it endureth
Age after age seems slowly coming down?
Suspended there with effort, it obscureth
A mighty cave beneath, which it doth crown;—
An open mouth the horrid cavern shapes,
Wherewith the melancholy mountain gapes." (Act II, Scene XIX)
Original Format
Monograph
Citation
Pedro Calderón de la Barca, 1600-1681, “"See ye not here this rock some power secureth",” Digital Derg: A Deep Map, accessed April 23, 2024, https://digitalderg.eu/items/show/67.