SCENE--The same clearing in the woods some hours later. There is no intervening fringe of trees in this scene, the open space is in full view. The Spring is at center. The wall of forest forms a semicircular background. As the curtain rises, there is a pitch-blackness and silence except for the murmur of the Spring. Then the sound of someone struggling to rise from the ground, falling back again with a groan of pain. Juan's voice comes out of the darkness.
JUAN--(as if he had just regained consciousness--then with a groan of rage and pain as memory returns) Fool! Why did I look? I might have died in my dream. (a pause--weakly) Sleep seems humming in my ears. Or is it--death!--death, the Merciful One! (He stirs and his voice suddenly grows strident.) No, No! Why have I lived! To die alone like a beast in the wilderness? (with a bitter mocking despair) O Son of God, is this Thy justice? Does not the Savior of Man know magnanimity? True, I prayed for a miracle which was not Thine. Let me be damned then, but (passionately) let me believe in Thy Kingdom! Show me Thy miracle--a sign--a word--a second's vision of what I am that I should have lived and died! A test, Lord God of Hosts! (He laughs with a scornful bravado.) Nothing! (But even as he speaks a strange unearthly light begins to flood down upon a spot on the edge of the clearing on the right. Startled in spite of himself) This light--the moon has waned--(Beneath the growing light a form takes shape--a tall woman's figure, like a piece of ancient sculpture, shrouded in long draperies of a blue that is almost black. The face is a pale mask with features indistinguishable save for the eyes that stare straight ahead with a stony penetration that sees through and beyond things. Her arms are rigid at her sides, the palms of the hands turned outward. Juan stares at her, defiance striving with his awe.) What are you? (forcing a sneer) An angel in answer to my prayer? (He cannot control a shudder--tries to calm himself. He stares at the figure--after a pause, boldly) Or are you Death? Why then I have often laughed in your eyes! (tauntingly) Off with your mask, coward! (mockingly but uneasy) Delightful Lady, you are enigmatic. One must embrace you with bold arms, tear off your masquerade. That was my pastime once--to play at love as gaming. Were I the Juan of long ago--but you see I am old now and wounded. (He pauses. The figure is frozen. He asks a bit falteringly) Are you--Death? Then wait--(in passionate invocation) O Beatriz! Let me hear your voice again in mercy of farewell! (As if in answer to this the voice of Beatriz sings from the darkness)
VOICE--
Love is a flower
Forever blooming
Life is a fountain
Forever leaping
Upward to catch the golden sunlight
Upward to reach the azure heaven
Failing, falling,
Ever returning,
To kiss the earth that the flower may live.
JUAN--(raptly) Youth! (As the song is sung, the same mystical light floods down slowly about the Spring, which is transformed into a gigantic fountain, whose waters, arched with rainbows, seem to join earth and sky, forming a shimmering veil, which hides the background of forest. Juan and the figure are left at the edge of this, on the outside. The form of Beatriz appears within as if rising from the spring. She dances in ecstasy--the personified spirit of the fountain. Juan cries with a voice trembling with joy) The Fountain! Let me drink! (He tries to drag himself to it but cannot--in anguish) Must I die--? (making a furious gesture of defiance at the figure and struggling to rise) No! I defy you! (Exhausted, he sinks back crying beseechingly) Beatriz! (But she seems not to see or hear him. Juan half sobs in despair) She will not see! She will not hear! Fountain, cruel as the heart of youth, what mercy have you for the old and wounded? (He sinks down overcome by weakness. Beatriz vanishes from the fountain. In her place appears the form of a Chinese poet. He is a venerable old man with the mild face of a dreamer and scholar. He carries a block and writes upon it with a brush, absorbed in contemplation. Juan looking up and seeing him--startled) What are you? (groping at some clue in his memory) I know--that night in Granada--the Moor's tale--(excitedly) Of the poet from the East who told his father the Fountain lie! Are you not that poisoner of life? (The poet raises his hand as if in summons. The form of the Moorish minstrel of Scene One appears at his side.) The Moor! (raging) Infidel dog! Your lie has cursed me! (The form of Nano appears at the other side of the Chinese poet. Juan struggles to reach his sword in a fury.) Murderer! (Then his eyes are caught by a fourth figure which materializes beside the Moor. It is Luis as he was in Scene One. With a cry of joy) Luis--old friend--(Then as Luis seems neither to see nor hear him, he sink back helplessly.) No--another mocking phantom! (He watches the Chinese poet, who seems to be reading what he has written to all of them.) See! The dead lie to the living. It passes on--from East to West--round the round world--from old worlds to new--cheating the old and wounded--Ha! (He laughs harshly and wildly. The Chinese poet takes the Indian by one hand, the Moor by the other. These latter stretch out their hands to Luis, who takes them, thus completing the circle. Beatriz' voice can be heard singing)
VOICE--