La Regenta (Classics) by John Rutherford & Leopoldo Alas

Author:John Rutherford & Leopoldo Alas [Rutherford, John]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780141960760
Publisher: Penguin Books Ltd
Published: 2005-07-27T23:00:00+00:00

These lines – which foolish prosaism has tried to make ridiculous and vulgar, running them thousands upon thousands of times over its slimy lips, as slimy as the belly of a toad – sounded that evening in Ana’s ears like the sublime expression of a pure, innocent love surrendering with a faith in the beloved natural in any great passion. And then Ana could control herself no longer. She wept, wept, with infinite pity for Inés. What was being enacted on stage was not now a love scene; it was somehow religious, and Ana’s soul leapt on towards the highest ideals, towards the pure, perfect sentiment of universal charity – she didn’t know exactly what it was, all she knew was that she was almost fainting from such intense emotion.

Nobody noticed Ana’s tears. Don Alvaro only observed that her bosom was moving more rapidly and rising higher as she breathed. The man of the world made a mistake: he thought that the emotion betrayed by her violent breathing was caused by his own elegant and close presence, he believed in a purely physiological influence, and he almost ruined everything. He felt for Ana’s foot at the instant when her thoughts, tripping on, had brought her to the concept of God, the pure, ideal, universal love which unites the Creator and His creatures. It was fortunate for Mesía that he was unsuccessful in his quest for one of Ana’s feet in that pile of leaves, her petticoats. She had just placed them both on a rung of Edelmira’s chair.

The quarrel between Don Juan and the Commander of Ulloa brought the judge’s wife back to reality and made her notice the worthy Ulloa’s extraordinary obstinacy. Since her excited imagination insisted on comparing Seville with Vetusta, she felt a superstitious fear when she saw the disastrous outcome of the Andalusian libertine’s adventures. The pistol shot with which Don Juan settled accounts with the commander made her shudder; it was a terrible presentiment. As in a flash of lightning, Ana saw Don Victor in jerkin and tippet of black velvet lying face upwards bathed in blood, and Don Alvaro standing over the corpse with a pistol in his hand.

When the curtain fell the marchioness declared that she could not take any more of Don Juan Tenorio.

‘I’m off, my children, I don’t like to see cemeteries and skeletons. There’ll be more than enough time for all that later on. Goodbye. You stay if you like. God! half past eleven, come two o’clock it still won’t have finished.’

Don Víctor provided Ana with a summary of the rest of the play. She decided to preserve intact the enchanting impression of the first part, and left with the marchioness and Mesía.

Edelmira stayed behind, with Don Víctor and Paco.

‘I shall take the girl home, my Lady. Would you drop Ana off?’ said Quintanar.

Mesía accompanied the ladies to the coach and took his leave. And then he did squeeze Anita’s hand a little. She drew it back in alarm.

Mesía returned to the marquis’s box to keep Don Víctor occupied in conversation.

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