"I am an abyss of crimes"

"I am an abyss of crimes"

Theatre--Seventeenth Century--Pedro Calderón de la Barca--Saint Patrick's Purgatory

"LUIS. Father, if my name I told, I'm afraid that swiftly flying, With a terror uncontrolled..."

Pedro Calderón de la Barca, 1600-1681

Barca, Pedro Calderón de la, The Purgatory of St. Patrick, trans. by Denis Florence MacCarthy, Act III, Scene VIII

Henry S. King & Co., London

1873

Digitised for Project Gutenberg

Public domain

Collected Plays

Spanish (English trans.)

Play

Text

DD_0065

54.6083, -7.8714

http://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/6371

"LUIS. Father, if my name I told, I'm afraid that swiftly flying, With a terror uncontrolled, You would leave me: for my works Are so shocking to unfold, That to see them not, the sun Wraps him round in mourning robes. I am an abyss of crimes, A wild sea that has no shore; I am a broad map of guilt, And the greatest sinner known. Yes, in me, to tell it briefly In one comprehensive word (Here my breath doth almost fail me), Luis Enius behold! I come here this cave to enter, If for sins so manifold Aught can ever satisfy, Let my penance thus atone To the Bishop of Hibernia I've confessed, and am absolved, Who informed of my intention With a gracious love consoled All my fears, and unto thee Sent these letters I unfold. FIRST CANON. Do not in a single day Take, my son, a step so bold, For these things require precaution More than can at once be told. Stay here as our guest some days, Then at leisure we can both See about it and decide. LUIS. No, my father, no, oh, no! Never from the ground I'll rise, Where here prostrate I am thrown, Till you grant to me this good. It was God that touched my soul, And inspired me to come here; Not a vain desire to know, Not ambition to find out Secrets God, perchance, withholds. Do not baffle this intention, For the call is heaven's alone. Oh, my father! yield in pity, With me in my griefs condole, Give my sorrows consolation, Heal the anguish of my soul. FIRST CANON. Luis, you have not considered what you ask of me; you know Nothing of the infernal torments You must bear: to undergo These your strength is insufficient. Many are there, more the woe! Who go in, but few, alas! Who return." (Act III, Scene VIII)

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