Radio's own show, Behind the Mic.  But radio isn't all on the surface. There are stories behind radio, stories behind your favorite program, and favorite personalities, and radio people you never hear of. Stories as amusing, dramatic, and interesting as any make-believe story you hear on the air. And that's what we give you, the human address, the glamour, the tragedy, the comedy and information that is behind the mic. And now presenting the conductor of this program, a man whose name since the beginning of broadcasting has been a byword in radio. Graham McNamee. Thank you, Gene Hamilton. Thank you. Good evening, ladies and gentlemen of the radio audience. First off, behind the mic presents warming up a studio audience. Folks at home have been missing something that has become a part of radio broadcast, and frankly, we don't think you should miss it. You see you people listening to your radios are easy and relaxed, but when an audience comes into the studio, it is at first, sometimes generally tense and nervous and possibly a little ill at ease. And now since the audience plays an important part in any radio broadcast, making it feel at home and introducing it to certain details with which it can cooperate is very important. This is accomplished by doing what is known as warming up the studio audience. I don't have to tell you any more about that because we have the best warmer upper in radio right here. The famous announcer, Harry von Zell. And without any further ado, I'm going to call on him to show you what is meant by warming up a studio audience. Harry von Zell. I could sing a few bars of it to get started. Graham didn't say so, but I think I'd better mention that this sample of a warm-up speech that I'm going to do is the one that I've been doing with the Fred Allen show. That's a comedy program. And before we go on, five or ten minutes before we go on the air, I hobble out and start this speech. I say, ladies and gentlemen, we have but a very few moments before taking the air and before that time we'd like to welcome you here and express to you our thanks for the kind interest which prompts your visit to our broadcast. It's the usual procedure before going on the air for some little man like myself to hobble out and run through a brief recitation of the technical problems we face in the presentation of radio program. We do that because your understanding of those problems and your cooperation can aid us immeasurably in meeting them. Of course, the most important element is the time element.  You can't hang over at the finish, you know. The fact is resulted in some very unsatisfactory finishes for radio programs. You probably have heard at some time or other some poor worried announcer signing off a program in very hurried fashion with words to the effect, don't forget to run out in the morning and buy a tube of national broadcasting company. Only results in bewildering the poor listener who naturally never had any idea that you could buy the national broadcasting company by the tube. So, we've naturally tried to avoid that by having as much flexibility as possible in the running time of the show. One means of achieving that desired flexibility is to seek your cooperation in the matter of applause. We ask that during the broadcast, you allow us to give you a signal when it's time to stop applauding. We don't like you to overdo it. I think I'd better add, too, so as to avoid any possible misunderstanding that while we do cue the applause in the interest of saving time, there is at no time during the program any signal of any kind given when it's time to laugh. We wouldn't like to feel that if Mr. Allen or somebody here says something funny that you were sitting there choking back gales of uproarious laughter waiting for someone here to tell you to let it fly. Quite to the contrary, any time you think you have heard anything funny, you just go ahead and react in any way that suits you best, be it either a giggle, or a pitter, or a guffaw. And at such times as that may happen, we here on the stage, a little surprised and very grateful, immediately stop whatever we're doing and hang around until you grow weary of laughing. Then we plunge blindly on into the next bit of hilarious higgily-piggily, hoping for more bursts of gay chartals throughout the show. Sometimes we get them and sometimes we don't. Well, we only have 30 seconds now before taking air. We're not taking gas, but we sincerely hope that when you leave this studio tonight, you leave feeling that you have enjoyed one of the happiest hours of your lives. Thank you very much. That was swell, Harry. I think by now you've got our audience just sizzling. The winner did with his prized money. This radio is the Pot of Gold program conducted by orchestra leader Horace Hyde. For those of you who don't know, the feature of the program is this. Each week a telephone number is selected somewhere in the United States. The number is 10 phones. And if somebody answers the phone, the person who was called becomes the recipient of at least $1,000. Tonight we bring you a Pot of Gold prize winner of a year ago to ask him what he's done with the money he was awarded. Introducing Mr. Sidney Anthony of Stamford, Connecticut. Mr. Anthony, when did you win your Pot of Gold money? October 17, 1939. And my prize money amounted to $1,900. As much as that? You see, if your phone number is selected and called and nobody answers the phone, you receive only $100 instead of the thousand. The extra $900 is added to the person's whose money will follow the next week. Week before, the person who had been phoned was not at home. I received the additional $900. I suppose that money of yours came in mighty handy, didn't it? It certainly did. Business had been going steadily downhill the past few years, and that made it even more welcome. What business are you in? The house-moving business. Mr. Anthony, what have you done with that $1,900 that rolled in so unexpectedly? Well, Mr. McNamee, I manage our business. It's a sort of family affair. And I use some of the money to pay a few of the company bills. I also paid all my personal bills. You certainly weren't wasting your money. I don't think so. Well, and then the rest of it put me on the way to achieve an ambition. I lost my home to a mortgagee about three years ago, and ever since, I have wanted to build a new home in the same neighborhood. Well, with the rest of the part of gold money, I bought a building lot, and since then, I've built a foundation, and someday I'm going to build the rest of the house. Well, you certainly have proven wrong the old saying that unearned money never did anybody any good. Thank you, Mr. Anthony, very much for coming here today. Behind the Mic presents the story behind how a radio program influenced a listener. Standing at the microphone is one of radio's most talented writers, Jane West, the author of the popular daytime serial, The O'Neill's. Jane, that was the most interesting story you told me about the effect of your program on a listener, and I'd like you to tell it to our audience. Won't you please? My thirdly, Graham. I went into a New York department store to buy some dresses, and one of the sales women whom I knew greeted me with hello, Mrs. O'Neill. Is your program still on the radio? I said, yes, we're still going along. And at that, a lady who was standing next to me said, I couldn't help overhearing. Are you really Mrs. O'Neill of the radio O'Neill? No, I'm not Mrs. O'Neill. I play the part of Mrs. Bailey in the story, and I also write the script. Oh. Oh, then you wrote the words for the play to an important part in my life. Why, in my life? Why, how do you mean?  Well, please. I feel I've just got to tell you. You see, I used to live here in New York, and I was very happily married. And then my husband bought a very promising store in a little town upstate, and that's where our troubles began. I didn't know anybody in the town when I was lonely and dreadfully unhappy. I even refused to try to make friends, and it seems that my husband and I did nothing to quarrel. And finally things got so bad between us that at last I went to see a lawyer about getting a divorce. And after telling him my story... Well, the situation is unpleasant probably for both of you. But I don't think it necessitates divorce. After all, you've been married happily for years. You have two lovely children. You know, divorce would mean a miserable existence for them, especially.  While I was at the lawyer that afternoon, a radio had arrived at our house. We hadn't had a radio since we moved from New York because the current in our new home was the 18th of December. And a couple of days later, while I was still taking over the lawyer's advice, I was fiddling around the radio and just by accident I tuned in on the O'Neill's. And through sheer coincidence it was the episode where Peggy O'Neill was contemplating divorcing her husband and Mother O'Neill was advising her. Take a year. You've got to think more carefully before you take such a drastic step. It isn't easy to face the future alone after years of married happiness with love and companionship. Your husband perhaps has made a mistake. Even say that he has. But have you made every effort possible to try to save your marriage, your home and future for your children? Have you really tried to meet in half-way? Peggy, when you married Monte, you entered into a lifetime contract for better or for worse. And you should honestly try to live up to that agreement just as much as you would do a business contract. Darling, you must be more understanding, more unselfish and more forgiving, more loving and more willing to help. I was fascinated. Mother O'Neill seemed to be talking to me. I could hardly wait to hear the following day's episode, which also concerned Peggy's proposed divorce. And I started to apply Mrs. O'Neill's advice to my own experience. I took an interest in the community and the people around me. I made friends and I tried to understand my husband's problems and make a long story short. I'd never want to live any place else from where I am and have never been so happy in all my life. Thank you, Jane West, for a most interesting story. And thanks to you, Kate McComb, for your sympathetic characterization of Mother O'Neill. The story behind animals on radio programs calls for a hippopotamus, an African warthog, or a chickadee. Instead of going out personally to enlist these animals for the sake of realism, the director generally calls upon one of a small group of men who specialize in animal sounds. Among these animal impersonators is our next guest, Donald Bain. Exactly what animals can you imitate? Oh, Graham, I can imitate everything from mosquitoes to elephants. Mosquitoes to elephants? Yes, in other words, from two. What type of animal are you called upon to do most, Donald? Well, most of the time, I'm a dog. Donald, you're just being hard on yourself. But seriously, do you play all kinds... And in all kinds of moods, too.  There's a type of a dog that's just not smart to argue with. Yes, especially as his arguments have teeth in them. You certainly must have studied dogs in various moods. Yes, Graham, and any person who really knows dogs can tell exactly how they feel by the sounds that they make. When a dog feels he is being left behind and wants to go along with his master, he'll sound like this. When he feels like playing, he'll sound like this. If any of you have your dogs listening to the radio, would you please explain to them that they're not listening to a highly successful canine, but merely a reasonable facsimile? Don, what other animals are you called on to imitate? Well, I have not been entirely unsuccessful as a chicken. And I was Joan Betts' pet canary bird on a long show. I had quite a run of pigeons on Mr. District Attorney and others last winter. They sounded like this. And last winter, I was a pet monkey on Lorenzo Jones for quite a while. Then not long ago, they made a jack out of me on a radio gill show. What was the most difficult animal impersonation you ever had to do, Donald? Well, I think it was the hardest role for me to play. It was a killer ape in one of the Shatter Scripts. That was hard because whenever I do my imitations, I put my whole heart and soul into them, and it was a terrific strain on my abdominal muscle. Do you mind recreating that famous moment for us when you were the killer ape? All right, here goes. Are you sure have me scared, Donald? That was mighty good. Several people in the back row here fainted, and a hysterical page boy had just been carried out in a straight jacket. And incidentally, if Gargantua is listening in, Donald was just fooling. Ladies in radio, presenting odd, amusing little true stories that help make radio sometimes funny, sometimes exasperating, but always interesting. This week's Oddity. A few years ago, the Believe It or Not program fell on Christmas Day, and Bob Ripley thought it would be a good idea to interview a man on the show whose actual name was Santa Claus. After a great deal of investigation, Bob actually discovered a man whose real name was Santa Claus. He was a preacher down in the Ozarks, who had not only never been in New York, but he'd never been in any big city. Arrangements were made to put the preacher on the train, and he was told that when he reached New York, the very day before the broadcast, if somebody failed to meet him, he was to telephone the office of Doug Storer, Ripley's manager. Well, after the arrival of the train, the man who was to meet Santa Claus at the station phoned Storer. Hello? Yes, this is Storer. What can't find him? He looked all over the station? Oh, well, that's okay. I gave him my phone number and told him if nobody picked him up to phone me here. It's one o'clock now. He ought to call any minute. You might as well come back to the office and wait for him here. Three o'clock already? Good heavens. He should have phoned a couple of hours ago. See, I wonder if anything's happened to him. Don, you sure you looked all over the station? Yes, I have, Doug.  This is getting awful. Well, we're going to be short one guest for tomorrow's program. Yes, and it's too late to get another one now. I can't understand it. I'm going out to see our telephone operator. Say, Miss Evans, I haven't had a single phone call this afternoon. Hasn't anybody called me? There hasn't been a single call, Mr. Storer. Tomorrow's Christmas, you know, and nobody's at their office. Yes, but are you positive nobody's phoned? Well, sure I'm positive. Oh, some practical joker did phone and kept pestering me all afternoon. A practical joker? Yes, the phone is a Douglas Storer's office. Who is this, please? And someone say, this is Santa Claus. The last time he called, I got sore and said, well, I'm Cleopatra, and hung up. Doug, did you ever find Santa Claus? Yes, Graham. About ten minutes later. Ten minutes later, he phoned once again, and this time asked if I was there and told him, and I said, where are you? And he said, I'm still down at the Pennsylvania station. I said, for Pete's sake, stay where you are and don't move. I'll tell the man right down to get you. And Graham, when the man got down there, he found Santa Claus had taken my words literally. He was still in the telephone booth where he had been all afternoon trying to get me. And you can bet your life, Graham, we didn't let him out of our sight until the next night when he appeared on the Believe It or Not program. Thank you very much, Doug Storer. You did a great job acting the part of yourself. So long, Doug. Each week, we invite the listeners of Behind the Mic to write us questions about radio. And the three or four we consider to be of most general interest, we have answered on the air by the radio editor of some outstanding newspaper or magazine. Tonight's questions will be answered by E. L. Braggden, radio editor of The New York Sun. Mr. Braggden, Mr. Braggden, Mr. Roger Neely of New Brunswick, New Jersey, has this question to ask. He writes, the other night, I was listening to the Albridge family. And a few hours later, I was fiddling around with my set and got a call from the director I was fiddling around with my set and got a California station. Much to my surprise, I heard the Albridge family again, doing exactly the same program I had heard a few hours before. Was this a recording I listened to the second time? No, Mr. Neely, it was not a recording. You heard what is known as a repeat broadcast. Many radio programs are broadcast from the east early in the evening. They repeat the same broadcast later because of the difference in time between the east and the west coast. For instance, the Albridge family was broadcast at 8.30 Eastern Daylight Saving Time, which would be heard in California at 4.30 Pacific Coast Time. This would be too early in the afternoon to reach the same size audience as had listened to the program in the east. So the Albridge family repeats the same broadcast at 12.30 a.m. Eastern Daylight Time for the west coast only, where it is heard at 8.30 Pacific Coast Time. This is a very common procedure. Our second question is from Mr. Armand Elbaugh of Wichita, Kansas. Is he right? I hear the expression ad-libbing used on the air every once in a while. Then I have read that Fred Allen and Jack Benny are great ad-libbers. Will you please tell me exactly what is the meaning of ad-libbing? Well, ad-libbing actually comes from the Latin, ad libertum, which means ad liberty. A radio performer or any performer is said to be ad-libbing when he does not follow the prepared script and speaks lines which presumably he had thought up on the spur of the moment. Fred Allen is said to be a great ad-libber because when the situation arises on a program that was not foreseen when the original script was written, he is expert at improvising funny lines to meet the situation. Thank you, Mr. Bragden, for answering all those questions. Behind the Mic presents the story behind a story behind the mic. Standing at the microphone is a pleasant, thick-set gentleman whose broadcasts by shortwave probably go to more countries than any commercial broadcast on the air. The gentleman heard three times each week over NBC is Captain Tim Healy, conductor of Captain Tim Healy's Stamp Club of the Air. Thank you. Captain Tim, exactly what was this broadcast you did, the one that had that strange result? Well, Graham, back in 1935, I told the following spy story on the air. During the visit of the Kaiser to London in 1913, the British Intelligence Department assigned various officers to watch the visitors. Now they were not to spy on them, but to guard them and keep them out of trouble. One night, shortly before midnight, a secret service officer who was disguised as a footman in Buckingham Palace wrapped on the window to call the attention of another secret service officer outside. What is it? General Vaughan Tabor is leading the palace. I'll keep an eye on him. The general drove off in a taxi, followed at not too great a distance by the officer, also in a taxi. The general's taxi twisted and turned through the streets as if, well, he was trying to shake off any possible pursuit. A maneuver which, incidentally, was not successful. Finally, about midnight, the general drove up before a barber's shop in North London. He got out of the taxi, and after looking about very carefully, knocked at the barber's door. Dumb cop. What's the noise, my dear? What's your idea of keeping me bathing here? Oh, I'm very sorry, General. Well, well, well, well. The intelligence officer hung around the outside of the barber's shop an hour before the general emerged. The general was then driven back to Buckingham Palace. The intelligence officer thought this very strange, and he told his chief, and his chief thought it was rather strange. Upon investigations, it was discovered that the barber's shop was owned by a man named Carl Ernst, a naturalized British subject. The chief assigned different officers every day to hang around the barber's shop and see if there was anything in the barber's actions to arouse suspicion. One day, the chief himself was in the barber's shop to get shaved when the postman entered them through a large brown envelope on the table. Hello, Carl. Oh, hello. Got something for me? Yes, here's your money from Germany. I wish it was. Goodbye. Right, Earl. I say barber. I'll be back in a few minutes. Oh, but you're next. Yes, but I must get a check cash to the bank, and it's almost closing time. All right, I will. I say there, postman. I want a word with you. Oh, Scotland Yard, eh? Yes. Let's pop into this pub for half a moment. All right.  You don't have to worry about me. That big brown envelope you brought into the barber's shop. Does the barber get letters like that often? Depends on what you might call often. He gets one of these envelopes regularly. I should think about once a month. Oh, oh. The chief then arranged with the post office department for the next of those letters to be delivered to him, and when it was delivered to him, the envelope was opened by a secret process known to military intelligence, opened in such a way that it could be closed without the tampering being detected. As soon as that letter was opened, they discovered 26 letters within that brown envelope. The letters seemed rather harmless enough, but when they were decoded. Gentlemen, this one is addressed to a German agent in Portsmouth. They want to know the disposition of our fleet there. This one is to an agent in Manchester. They want to know about the production capacity of one of the munition factories. It is all undoubtedly clear that Karl Ernst is acting as a kind of spy post office. These letters are sent to him in this big envelope from Germany. Then he mails the individual letters himself using English stamps, and the letters are then postmarked in England. And so the agents are not suspected of receiving mail from Germany. We'll just keep an eye on our Mr. Ernst. The British intelligence kept their eye on Mr. Ernst and on 26 German agents. So well that when the war was declared in 1914, they were all immediately clapped into jail. So the Germany was in complete darkness concerning the British troop and naval movements the few first months of the war. What happened to Ernst and the other agents? Well Graham, of course, they paid the penalty for being spies. Now Graham, what makes this story so strange is this. The day after I told this on the air, I received a telephone call from a gentleman who'd heard the broadcast, and he asked me to give him an interview. I did, and he told me a very strange story. He had been in complete ignorance as to what had happened to his grandfather, who had disappeared in England more than 20 years before until he had heard my broadcast. His grandfather, Graham, had been carl Ernst. Thank you, thank you, Captain Tim Healy, for a very interesting and a mighty entertaining tale. Ladies and gentlemen, if you have any questions about the inside of radio that you wish answered on the air, write a letter to us. Address it to Graham McNamee, behind the mic, National Broadcasting Company, New York City. As many questions as possible will be answered by mail. And the three or four questions we feel to be of most general interest will be answered on this program. Thank you. This is Graham McNamee speaking. Good afternoon all. Next Sunday, behind the mic, we'll be heard at five minutes past six, Eastern Standard Time, and thereafter at half past five. This is the National Broadcasting Company.


Act 3 of The Wonder Working Magician by Pedro Calderón de la Barca Translated by Dennis Florence McCarthy This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org Act 3 Scene 1. A Wood at the Extremity, a Grotto. Cyprian Ungrateful beauty mine, at length the day, the happy day doth shine, my hope's remotest range, the limits of my love and of thy change, since I today will gain at last my triumph over thy disdain. This lofty mountain nigh, raised to the starlit palace of the sky, and this dark Kevin's gloom of two that live so long the dismal tomb, are the rough school wherein, from magic art its mystic law I win, and such perfection reach that I can now my mighty master teach, seeing that on this day, since I came here, the sun completes its course from sphere to sphere, I from my prison cell come forth to view what in the light I now have power to do. Ye skies of cloudless day, list the magic spell words and obey, swift zeffers that rejoice in heaven's warm light, stand still and hear my voice. Stupendous mountain rock, shake at my words, as at an earthquake shock, ye trees in rough bark dressed be frightened at the groanings of my breast, ye flowers so fair and frail, faint at the echoing terrors of my wail, ye sweet melodious birds, hush all your songs before my awful words, ye cruel beasts of prey, see the first fruits of my long toil today, for blinded, dazzled, dazed, confused, disturbed, astonished and amazed, ye skies and zeffers, rocks and trees and flowers, and birds and beasts, behold my magic powers, and thus to all make plain, Cyprian's infernal study is not vain. Scene 2 The Demon and Cyprian Cyprian Wise friend and master still. Why, how is this, that using your free will, more than my precept meant, say for what end, what object, what intent, through ignorance or boldness can it be? You thus come forth of the sun's bright face to see. Seeing that now my spell can fill with fear, with horror even hell, since I, with so much care, have studied magic and its depths laid bare, so that yourself can scarcely tell whether it is I or you that most excel, seeing that now there is no place or part that I, with study, diligence and art, have not attained, since Necromancer's secret I have gained, that art whose lines of gloom can opt to me the dark funereal tomb, and bring before mine eyes each corpse that in it lies, regaining them as twer by a new birth from the hard avarice of the grasping earth, the pale ghosts, one and all, rise and respond my call, and seeing that at length the sun, my goal of life had won, since from its innate force, swift speeding on its course, climbing the heavens each day, it turns as twer reluctantly away, and with a natural fear completes today the lifetime of a year. I wish to attain the scope, to last of all my dreams, of all my hope, today the rare, the beautiful, the divine Justina will be mine, here summoned by my charms, here lured by love shall come into my arms, for you from me no longer can require postponement of my hopes, my heart's desire. Nor do I wish to do it, no, since thus so earnestly you wish it so. Now, trace upon the ground, mute mystic symbols, and the deep profound of air, with powerful incantations move, obedient to your hope and to your love. For that I will retire, you soon shall see the heaven and earth admire. Exit. I give you leave to go, because our science being the same, I know that the abyss of hell, obedient to your spell, will yield through me, this way, the fair Justina to your arms, today. For though my mighty power cannot enslave free will even for an hour, it may present the outward show of rapture and content, suggesting thoughts impure, if force I cannot use at least I lure. Scene Three Clarion and the Demon Ungrateful fair, who still my heart doth hold, not burning Libya sure, but Libya cold, the time has come to show whether and love you have been true or no, whether, since I within this cave was placed, not chased by me you have yourself been chased. For I have studied here, at second hand some magic for a year, just to find out, who lack, I can't but wince, whether with Moscon you have wronged me since. The watery skies, some people call them pure, list to my conjurations I conjure, mountains. How, Clarion?  Have done with these buffooneries. Leave me, go. Amid these intricate rocks whose paths you know, assist your master, who will let you see, if you would witness such a prodigy, the end of all his woe. I wish to be alone. And I not so. I now perceive why to use magic I have not sure leave. The fault was mine, neglecting to attest my bond, and sign it with the blood of my breast. He takes out a soiled pocket handkerchief. Upon this linen handkerchief, an uncleaner he can have, who cries for grief, I'll sign it now, the method I propose, is but to give myself a box on the nose, for there is little harm whether the blood is drawn from nose or arm. He writes with his finger on the handkerchief, after having drawn some blood. I, the great Claren, say, if I can level pertilevious cruel pride, whom I give to the devil. Leave me, I say again. Go seek your master, and with him remain. Yes, I will do so. Don't get angry, though. The reason you reject my bond, I know. Choose this, because you see. Do what I will, that you are sure of me. Scene 4 The Demon Abyss of hell, prepare thyself, the region of thine own despair. For out each dungeon's dark recess let loose the spirits of voluptuousness. To reign and overthrow, justine as virgin fabric, pure as snow. A thousand filthy phantoms with thee brought, so people, her, chased, thought.  Let sweetest notes be trilled from every tuneful grove, and all, birds, plants, and flowers, provoke to love. Let nothing meet her eyes, but spoils of love's delicious victories. Let nothing meet her ears, but languid sighs that listening passion hears, that thus, unguarded by the faith, and weak, she here may Cyprian seek, invoked by his strong spell, and by my blinding spirit, lord as well. Begin, in silence I will hear remain, unseen, that you may now begin the strain. Exit. Scene five. Justina. Music within. They sing within. What is the glory far above? All else that life can give. Love! Love! No creature lives on which love's flame has not impressed its burning seal. The man feels more who love doth feel than when life's breath first warmed his frame. Love owns one universal claim. To love it only needs to be. Whether a bird, a flower, a tree, than the chief glory far above all else in life must be. Chorus within. Love! Love! Justina, alarmed and restless. Fancy, flutter that thou art, though thou shouldst be sad today. When did I to thee impart in the strange and sudden way licensed to afflict my heart? What thus makes my pulses move? What strange fire is this I prove with each moment doth increase?  Love! Love! Justina, more composed. Tis that enamoured nightingale, who thus gives me the reply to his partner in the veil listening on a bow hard by warbling thus his tuneful wail. See, sweet nightingale, nor show by thy softly witching strain drilling forth thy bliss and woe, how a man might feel love's pain when a bird can feel his so. No, it was that once in vine that in fond pursuit has sought the tall tree it doth entwine, till the green weight it hath brought makes the noble trunk decline, green entwining boughs that hold which you love in your embrace make my fancy not too bold. Ah, if boughs thus interlace, how would clasping arms enfold? And if not the vine, it will be that bright sunflower which we see turning with its tearful eyes to its sun-god in the skies, whatsoever his movements be. Flower thy watch no longer keep, drooping leaflets fold in sleep for the fond thought reappears. Ah, if leaves can shed such tears, what are those that eyes can weep? Cease, then, lyreste of the grove, leafy vine unclasp thy arms, fickle flower no longer move and declare these poisoned charms that you use. What yields? Love! Love! Love? It cannot be! Its chain have I ever worn for man? No, the fond deceit is vain, all received alike disdain. Lelias, Floris, Cyprian? Lelias did I not despise, Floris did I not detest? Cyprian? The good and wise? She pauses at Cyprian's name and resumes for a time her unquiet manner.  Where he went I do not know, but save this, the faintest fire, love, air, lit, and air, to glow in the depths of my desire. Yes, for since I said that he should submit without appeal never more my face to see, I know. And what I feel? She grows calmer. Pity it must surely be, that a man so widely known should through love of me be lost when he pays at such a cost for the preference he has shown. She becomes troubled again. Were it pity, though, it is true, the same pity I should give Lelius and to Floris too, who in separate dungeons live for daring me to woo. She grows calmer. But my thoughts, ye mutinous crew, if my pity is enough it should not be clogged by you. Still, your promptings press me so, that I feel in my despair where he is if I could know, I to seek him now would go. Scene 6 The Demon and Justina Come, and I will tell thee where. Who art thou who has procured entrance to this lone retreat, though the entrance is secured? Or my senses being obscured art thou but delusions cheat? No, not so. And having known how this passion pressed thee so, I have sought thee here alone, having promised thee to show where the Cyprian has flown. Then thou'd reach not thy intent for this passion, this strange pain which my thought doth so torment, though my fancy it may gain, it will never my consent. But in thought to enter in shows that half the deed is done, since accomplished is the sin. Stop not half way, eras one, what the wish desired to win. Even in this desponding hour, though to think may taint the flower, thy suggestion comes to not. In my power is not my thought, but my act is in my power. I can follow to the brink, free to pause or to pursue, move my foot or backward shrink, for it is one thing to do, and another thing to think. If a stronger power than thine, drawn from a profounder source, with thine own desires combined, how resist a double force, which with force thy steps incline? I will trust a safer spell. My free will suffices me. But my power will it excel. Then the will no more were free if a force could it compel. Come where every bliss thou'll meet. Attempts to draw her with him, but cannot move her. Ah! The bliss were bought too dear. It is peace, serene and sweet. Tis a slavery most severe. Life, tis joy. Tis death, deceit. Thy defense, what can it be if my power thus forces thee? Drags her with more force. In my God it doth consist. By persisting to resist. Releases her. Woman, thou hast conquered me. Thy defense to God is due, and my counsel is disdained. Yes. But raging I'll renew my attempt, and have thee feigned if I cannot have thee true. To a spirit I will give, shape like thine, though fugitive. It will counterfeit thy form, as with seeming life be warm, and in it disgraced thou'll live. Thus two triumphs at one time I am sure to win by this. Be thy virtue so sublime, thine sense through an ideal bliss, I will consummate a crime. Exit. Scene 7, Justina. Against the clouds that round me lower I appeal to Heaven's high power.  But woe is me, who is here to heed my moan. Was there not a man with me? Yes, but no, I am alone. No, but yes, for I could see. Where so quickly could he fly? Was he born of my unrest? Oh, my danger's manifest. Father, friend, Lysander, I call. Scene 8 Lysander and Livia enter from opposite doors. Justina. My child. What means this cry? Saw you not a man? Ah, me, who but left me instantly? I can scarce express my thought. A man here. You saw him not? No, Signora. I could see. Saw a man here? That is hard when the place was locked and barred. Livia, aside. Must concher she must have seen whom I have contrived to screen in my changer. I regard what you saw but as the play of your fancy and your fear. Melancholy surely may have, the man that you saw here, formed from atoms of the day. Yes, I think my master's right. No, it was no defect of sight, no illusion. Since my heart, ah, too well I feel the smart, has been broken by the fright. Some strange witchery of my will must have been affected here, with such consummate skill that if God had not been near I might have pursued my ill. He who at such timely hour helped me to resist the power of this fearful violence. Will my humble innocence guard whatever dangers lower? Livia, my cloak. Exit Livia. When our overwhelming grief suppress I to Holy Church Repair, where we secretly confess the true faith. Livia returns with the cloak which she places on Justina. Tis this you wear? There pretence I may appease the strange fire that burns me so. I desire with thee to go. Livia, aside. Ah, I will breathe much more at ease when they're out of the house, I know. Since I wholly trust thee, heaven, thy hold to me afford, save me. Come, so it may be. Since the cause is thine, O Lord, O defend thyself and me. Exeun Justina and Lysander. Scene 9. Moscon and Livia. Have they gone? They're gone, all right. Why, I'm almost dead with fright. Were you of your sense bereft? When but now my room you left and appeared before her sight. Left your room? Be seen by her? Why, I swear it, Livia, dear. Not one moment did I stir her. Who then was it she saw here? Well, the devil has I infer. How know I? But then do not take it so to heart my soul. Oh, that's not the cause. She weeps. Then what? Such a question, when the whole of the day it was his lot. With me here locked up to stay. For his comrade far away must I not a tear than shed, though I take this day instead. Having wept not yesterday. Would I have him think of me as a woman who could be so forgetful and so frail, as for half a year to fail in what we did both agree? Half a year? It is above one oh year since he went away. Quite an error, as I'll prove. Mind, I cannot count a day when I, Claren, could not love. This being so, if I to thee gave up half the year, ah, me, I would give a false amount to place all to his account. Ah, ungrateful, can it be that when my heart on thee depends for his peace that thine attends to such trifles? Moscan, yes, for I find I must confess short accounts make longest friends. Such being then thy constancy, Olivia, I must say goodbye till tomorrow. Ah, if he is thy two-day fever, I hope he's not thy syncope. Well, my friend, from this you know I know Malisbear. Just so. See me then no more to-day. But to-morrow, sir, you may. I'll not need to send. Hey-ho! Exeunt. Seen ten. A wood. Cyprian, as frightened, Claren stealthily after him. Doubtless something must have happened among the stars, imperial clusters, since I find their influences to my wishes so repugnant, up from the profound abysses some dark caveat must be uttered, which prohibits the obedience which they owe me as my subjects, I, a thousand times with spell words, made the winds of heaven too shudder. I, a thousand times the bosom of the earth with symbols furrowed, yet my eyes have not been gladdened by the human sun-refulgent that I seek, nor in my arms hold that human heaven. What wonder, when a thousand times have I scraped the earth as if for nuggets, when a thousand times the wind by my screeching was perturbed, and yet Livia was oblivious. Once again, then, I am humbled to invoke her thus. O listen, beautiful Justina. Seen eleven. A phantom figure of Justina appears, the figure Cyprian and Claren. Summoned, as I wander through these mountains, I obey a call so urgent. What then wouldst thou? What then wouldst thou, Cyprian, with me? Oh, I shudder. And since now. I am astonished. I have come. What thus disturbs me? To this place. What makes me tremble? Where? Oh, whence this doubt that numbs me? Love does call me. Why this terror? And the powerful spell thou workest. Thus complied with, to this forest's deepest depths, I fly to shun me. Exit, covering her face with the cloak. Listen, hear me, stay, Justina. But why linger, spellbound, stunned here? I'll pursue her, and this forest, wither by my spells conducted, she has flown, will be the leafy theatre, the rude constructed bride-bed of the strangest bridal heaven ever witnessed. Exit. Scene 12 Stop!  But perhaps the incantation, being so extremely sudden, caught her leaning o'er the light-up, if not cooking tripe for supper. No. Thus cloaked in a kitchen. That excuse won't do. Another let me try. I have it now, for an honourable woman never smells than any sweeter. She, with fright, must have been flustered. Yes, overtaken her now, and from that rude veil uncultured, struggling in closed, clasping arms. For I think when lovers struggle, open arms are not the weapon, even for the lustiest lover. To this very spot they come. I will watch them undercover, for I wish for once to witness how young women are abducted. Conceals himself. Scene 13 Cyprian embracing the figure of Justina, which he carries in his arms.  For here, folding thee no longer, have I need to fear disturbance. Fear, Justina, thou hast cost me even my soul. But in my judgment, since the gain has been so glorious, not so dear has been the purchase, oh, unveiled I self, fair goddess, not in the clouds obscure and murky, not in vapours hide the sun, show its golden rays refulgent. He draws a sight to cloak, and discovers a skeleton. But, oh, whoa, what's this I see? Is it a cold course, mute, postless, that within its arms expects me, who, in one brief moment's compass, could upon these faded features, pallid, motionless and shrunken, have extinguished the bright beauties of the blush-rose and the purple? Cyprian, such are all the glories of the world that you so covet. The skeleton disappears. Clarion rushes in frightened and embraces Cyprian. Scene 14, Clarion and Cyprian. Fear for anyone who wants it, wholesale or retail, I'll furnish. Stay, funereal shadow, stay. Now for other ends I urge thee. I am a funereal body. Don't you see it by my bulk here? Ah, who are you? Who I am, sir, or am not, my self-doth puzzle. Did you in the airs void spaces, or earth's caverns yawning under, see an icy course here vanish, see to dust and ashes turning, all the freshness and the beauty that it promised in its coming? Do you take me, sir, for one of those pitiful poor lurkers men call spies? What could it be? And not be in such a hurry. Let us seek it. Let's not seek it. I must sift this matter further. I would rather not. Scene 15, The Demon, Cyprian and Clarion. Demon aside. Just heavens. If my nature, in conjunction, once possessed both grace and science, when amongst angels I was numbered, grace alone is what I've lost, science, no. Then why unjustly, if tis so, deprive my science of its proper power and function? Lucifer, why is master mine? They don't call him, for he'll come here in another course, I warrant. Speak. What would you? The annulling, the redemption of those pledges at whose very thought I shudder. As I don't redeem my pledges, I'll slip off here through the bushes. Exit. Scene 16, Cyprian and the Demon. Scarcely, oh, earth's wounded bosom, had I the true spell word uttered, when in the ensuing action she of all my dreams the subject, my adored divine Justina, but why take the useless trouble that to tell you know already, I embraced her, would unmuffle her fair face when, woe is me, in her beauty I discovered a gaunt skeleton, a statue, a pale image, a sepulchral show of death, which in these measured words thus spoke, even yet I shudder. Cyprian, such are all the glories of the world that you so covet. To assure that on thy magic as expressed by me the burden of the fault should lie is vain, for I point by point so worked it, that of all its silent symbols there was not a line but somewhere had its place of all its spell words, not one word that was not uttered. Then, it is plain thou hast deceived me, for though acting as instructed, I but found an empty phantom where I sought a blissful substance. Cyprian, this defect from thee, not from me, in truth resulted. Not from thee, because the magic thou didst exercise with subtle thought and skill, and not from me, for I could not teach thee further. From a higher cause, believe me, came this injury thou hast suffered, but be not cast down, for I, who in tranquil rest will lull thee, will to thee unite Justina by a different way and juster. That is not my intention now, for this strange event has struck me with such terror and confusion that thy ways I do not covet. And since thou hast not complied with the conditions, the assumptions of my love, I only ask thee now that from thy face I am rushing as the contract is annulled that my bond thou shouldst return me. What I promised was to teach thee, by a course of study secret, how to draw to thee Justina by the potent power impulsive of thy words. And since the wind here Justina hath conducted, I have then fulfilled my contract. I have kept my plighted word then. What was offered to my love was that I should surely pluck here the sweet fruit whose seeds my hope had to these wild wastes entrusted. Cyprian, I was only bound her to bring here. A mere shuffle to my arms you swore to give her. In thy arms I saw her struggle. To us a phantom. To us a portent. Worked by whom? By one who worked it to protect her. Who was he? Demon, trembling. I don't wish the name to utter. I will turn my magic science against thyself, by its compulsion speak, inform me, who he is. Well, a God who takes this trouble for Justina. What's one God when of God's there such a number? All their power in him is centred. Then one only, soul and sovereign must he be, whose single will thy united wills outworketh. I know nothing. I know nothing. I renounce then with my utmost power the pact that I made with thee. What compelled him? This I urge thee, in that great God's name, to guard her. Demon, after having struggled ineffectually not to say it. To preserve her pure, uncelled. Then he is the sovereign goodness. Since a wrong he will not suffer. But if she remained here hidden say what loss would have resulted. Loss of honour, if the secret leaked out to the gossiping vulgar. Then that God must be all-sight, since he could foresee these trouble. But why could not thy enchantment be as potent and consummate? Ah, his power is ampler, fuller. Then that God must be all-hands, since whatever he wills he worketh. Tell me then, who is that God whom to-day I have discovered, the supreme of good to be, the creator, the annuller, the omniscient, the all-seeing whom I've sought for years unnumbered. Him I know not. Speak, who is he? As I speak it how I shudder. He is the God of the Christians. Say what moved him to obstruct me in my wish. Her Christian faith. Does he guard so those who love him? Yes. But now too late. Too late does thou hope to gain his succour, since in being my slave thou canst not claim the privilege of his subject. I thy slave? In my possession is thy signature. I'll struggle to regain it from thee, since, twas conditional at the utmost, I don't doubt I will get it. Ow! In this way. He draws his sword, strikes at the demon, but cannot touch him. Although the lunges of thy naked sword against me are well aimed, thou hast not struck me, theirs as were thy blows. And now, even in more despair to plunge thee, I would have thee learn at least, that the devil is thy instructor. What do you say? That I am he. Oh, to hear thee how I shudder. Not alone a slave art thou, but my slave. Be that thy comfort. I, the slave of the devil, I own a master so unworthy. Yes, for since thy soul thou gave it to me, thencefore that to me was subject. Is there then no gleam of hope, no appeal, no aid, no succour by which I so great a crime can blot out? No. Why doubt further? Let not this sharp sword rest idly in my hand, but swiftly cutting through my breast, become the willing instrument of my own murder. For what say I? He who could snatch Justina from thy clutches, can he not too rescue me? No. By choice thou were to culprit, and he does not favour crimes, virtues only. If the summit of all power he be, to pardon is as easy as to punish, he rewarded by his power. He chastiseth from his justice. One who yields, he'll not chastise. I am one, since I am humbled. Thou art mine, my slave. No master canst thou have but me. I trust not. How? One still in my possession is that bond of thine?  He who is supreme and sovereign, and depends not on another, will yet bear me through triumphant. In what way? He is all sight, and will see the fitting juncture. It I hold. He is all hands, and will burst my bonds asunder. Oh, that comes, I'll see thee dead. Thus my clasping arm shall crush thee. They struggle together. Thou great God, the Christians God, oh, assist me in this struggle. Demon, flinging Cyprian from his arms. It is he who has saved thy life. More he'll do, since I seek him humbly. Excellent. Scene 17 Hall in the palace of the governor. The governor, Fabius, and soldiers. Oh, then, will the capture bade? In their churches we suspected we discovered them collected, where before their God they prayed, with an armed guard. I traced them to this secret, sacred hall, made them prisoners one and all, and in different prisons placed them, but your patience not to tire the chief-point I may declare, captured is Justina Fair, and Lysander her old sire. If for gold a fair pretence, if for rank you would not miss, wherefore bring me news like this, and not claim your recompense. If you don't value thus my poor service, you may pay for it. How? With great respect I say it. Floris, free, and Lelias. Though I seemed austere and cold, them chastising without pity, to strike terror through the city, yet, if the whole truth were told, the cause were plain, why they had been prisonered a whole year. It is this, a father's fear Lelias would preserve this way. Floris was his rival, he had a host of powerful friends, each was jealous, and his ends would attain what air might be. I was fearful a collision would ensue if they should meet, so I thought it more discreet not to come to a decision. So with this intent I sought some pretext, Justina's face to expel from out this place, but I could discover naught. But since this event today, with a damaged character, gives a right to vanish our need to take her life away, let them be released, no fear need you have about their fate. Go, Lelias liberate, go, and Floris bring me here.  Exit. Scene 18. The Governor and Soldiers And since now this fair pretends, this hypocritical deceit, in my power a last little lie, wherefore my revenge postponed for the sorrows I have known through her fault.  To a soldier. Bring her hither in my name. Let her punishment and shame be a terror to the land. To the palace she thought sweet, but her scaffold seen present. Exit the soldier with others. Scene 19. Fabius, Lelias, and Floris. The same. Scene 20. Sir, the two for whom you've sent here are kneeling at your feet. Scene 21. I, whose wish it is to be welcomed as thy son this time, with no consciousness of crime, do not see a judge in thee. I, an angry sire, may see, with a son's respectful fear and obedience. Scene 22. Being here I infer that it must be, though no guilt can I discern, thy chastising hand to feel. Scene 23. See, submissive here, I kneel. Scene 24. Lelias, Floris, I was stern, justly stern against ye too, for, as judge or father, I could not unchastise pass by your offence. But then I knew that in noble hearts the feeling of resentment does not last. And as now the cause is passed, I resolved to both appealing friends to make of you once more. So, to consecrate the tie, now embrace in amity. Scene 25. I am glad that, as of your, Floris is my friend today. Scene 26. The voured mine this act may show. Here's my hand. Scene 27. This being so, you are free to go or stay. When I tell you of the sad fall of her you once admired, nothing further is required. Scene 20. The demon, a crowd of people, the same. Demon within. Where, beware. He's mad, he's mad. What is this? I'll go and see. He goes to the door and after a pause returns. In this palace hall these cries from what cause can they arise? Something serious it must be. This confusion is occasioned. Here, a singular adventure. Sir by Cyprian, who being absent many days again has entered Antioch completely mad. It was doubtless the fine essence of his mind that thus has brought him to this lamentable ending. People within. Where the madman? Where the madman? Scene 21. Cyprian, half-naked. People. The same. Never was I more collected. It is you yourselves are mad. Cyprian, what is all this ferment? Governor of Antioch, viceroy of great Caesar desius. Florus, Lelius, my young friends, whom I valued and respected. Proud nobility, great people. To my words be all attentive. I am Cyprian. I am he once so studious and so learned. I the wonder of the schools of the sciences from the centre. What I gained from all my studies was one doubt. A doubt that never left my willed mind a moment. Ever troubling and perplexing I Justina saw, and seeing to her charms my soul surrendered, and for soft voluptuous Venus left the wise and learned Minerva. Baffled by Justina's virtue I pursuing though rejected, and from one extreme to another passing on as passion led me, to my guest who from the sea found my feet a port of shelter. For Justina pledged my soul since at once he charmed my senses and my intellect by giving love its hopes and thought its treasures. From that hour, as his disciple, lived I in these lonely deserts, and to his laborious teaching I am for a power indebted, by which I can move even mountains, and in different places set them, yet although these mighty wonders I can do today, I'm helpless by the voice of my desire to draw towards me one fair vessel. And the cause why I am powerless to subdue that beautist virgin is that by God she's guarded, whom not knowing by his blessed grace bestowed I came to acknowledge as the infinite, the eternal.  If you are a judge, if Christians you pursue with bloody vengeance I am one, for in these mountains a grave venerable elder, the first sacrament conferring with its sacred sign impressed me. This being so, why wait?  He falls as if in a swoon with his face to the ground. So absorbed, so lost in wonder, Cyprian, as thy daring left me, that considering modes of torture I have yet not one selected. Rise, be sturdy. Spurns him with his foot. As a statue formed of ice he lies extended. Scene 22 soldiers, Justina, the same. Here your highness is Justina. Governor, aside. I must go. Her face unnerves me. With his living course here lying. Aside to his retinue. Let us leave her for the present. For the two being here confined it may alter their intentions seeing that they are condemned both to die. If not, dear sartan, that unless they adore our gods frightful torments shall soon end them. Lilius, aside. I remain tweaked love and fear, quite bewildered and suspended. Flores, aside. So affected have I been. I scarce know what most affects me. Excellent all except Justina. Scene 23 Justina, Cyprian, insensible on the ground. What, without a word you leave me? When I come here calm contented even to die? Ah, wishing death am I then of death prevented? She perceives Cyprian. But my punishment is doubtless, thus locked up to face the terrors of a slow and lingering death. With the body of this wretch here left alone, my sole companion being a corpse. O thou reentered into thy original earth, happy were thou if thy sentence was passed on thee for the faith I adore. Cyprian, recovering consciousness. O proud Avenger of your gods, why wait the thread of my life to cut? He perceives Justina and rises. Heaven bless me. Aside. Can I trust my eyes? Justina? Justina, aside. Cyprian, do I see? Oh, Heaven! No, it is not she. My thought fills the void air with her presence. No, it is not he. The wind forms this phantom to divert me. Shadow of my fantasy. Of my wish, delusive spectre. Terror of my startled senses. Horror of my heart's dejection. What then wouldst thou? What then wouldst thou? I invoked thee not. What errand has thou come on? Why thus seek me? I to thee no thought directed. Ah, I sought thee not, Justina. Nor here at thy call I entered. Then why here? I am a prisoner. Thou? I too have been arrested. But, Justina, say what crime could thy virtue have affected? It is not for any crime. It is from their deep resentment, their abhorrence of Christ's faith. Whom I, as my God, confess here. Thou dost owe him that, Justina, for thy God was thy defender. He watched all thee in his goodness. Get my prayers to him accepted. Pray with faith, and he will listen. Then with that I will address him. Though a fear that's not despair makes me for my great sins tremble. Oh, have confidence. My crimes are so immense. But more immense are his great mercies. Then will he pardon have on me? Tis certain. How, if my soul surrendered to the demon self as purchase of thy beauty. Oh, there are not stars as many in the heavens. Sands as many on the shore. Sparks within the fire as many. Moats as many in the beam. On the wind so many feathers. As the sins he can forgive. I believe it. And I'm ready now a thousand lives to give him. But I hear some people enter. Scene 24 Fabius leading in Moscon, Clarin and Livia as prisoners. Cyprian and Justina. With your master and your mistress he remain confined together. Exit.  Much. Tis crime enough for us that we am to be servants. Flying peril in the mountain I find here a greater peril. Scene 25 A servant the same. Lord Governor Aurelius summons Cyprian to his presence and Justina. Ah, how happy if Tis for the wished-for ending. Do not Cyprian be disheartened.  I once said that I could love thee but in death and since together Cyprian we now must die what I promised I present thee. They are led out by the servant. Scene 26 Moscon, Livia and Clarin.  Much more contented are we three to remain alive. Not much more. For we must settle our account now though I own the occasion might be better but it's too still to err wrong to neglect the time that's present. What account pray? I have been absent. Speak. The whole of a twelve month when without my intermission Moscon and possession held thee now my quota in the business if we both have equal measure is that I must have my year. Can it be that I'm suspected of thus wronging thee so basely? I wept whole days together when it was the day for weeping. Yeah, for I myself was present. Every day that was not mine she thy friendship quite respected. That's a bounce. For not a tear when this day her house I entered did she shed and there I found thee sitting with her quite contented. But this day is not a fast. Yes it is. For I remember that the day I went away was my day. Ah, that's an error. Yes, I see how that arises. This year is a year by sex-style and our days are now the same. Well, I'm satisfied. It is better that a man should not too deeply pry into such things. Good heavens! The sound of a great tempest is heard. Scene 27 The governor, a crowd of people, then Fabius, Lilius and Flores all astonished. Afterwards the demon. Sure the house is tumbling down. How terrific! What a tempest! Doubtless in disastrous ruin toppled down the walls of heaven. The tempest is renewed and enter Fabius, Lilius and Flores. Scarcely on the public scaffold had the headsman's hand decevred Cyprian and Justina's necks when the earth, even to its center, seemed to tremble. And a cloud from whose burning womb extended the wild lightnings, the loud thunders, awful embryos were projected, fell upon us. From which issued a most horrid, most repelling shape who on the scaly shells of a mailed and mighty serpent over the scaffold made a sign, motioning silence and attention. The scene opens and the scaffold with the heads and bodies of Justina and Cyprian is seen. Over it in the air, upon a winged serpent, is the demon. Hear, O mortals! Hear what I, by the orders of I heaven, for Justina's exculpation, must declare to all here present. Aye, it was, who to dishonor her pure fame informed assembled, for the purpose scaled her house and her very chamber entered. In order that her fame should not by that fraud be lessened I came here her injured honour to exhibit pure and perfect. Cyprian, who with her lyeth on a happy beer at rest there, was my slave. But he, a-facing, with the blood his neck outshedeth, the red signature, the linen is now spotless and unblemished. And the two, in spite of me, having to the spheres ascended of the sacred throne of God, live there in a world far better. This, then, is the truth, which I tell, because God makes me tell it. Much against my will, my practice not being great as a truth teller. He falls swiftly and sinks into the earth. Ah! What horror! What confusion! What a prodigy! What terror! These are all but the enchantments which this sorcerer effected at his death. I am in doubt to believe them or reject them. The mere thought of them confounds me. If magician it is certain, as I hold, he must have been the magician then of heaven. Leaving our partitioned love in a rather odd dilemma, for the wonderful magician ask the pardon of its errors. End of Act 3 End of The Wonderworking Magician by Pedro Calderón de la Barca Translated by Dennis Florence McCarthy


Hi guys, so I wanted to talk today about a question I get quite frequently and that is people always ask me, you know, I'm really shy, can I be a nurse? Like, I'm really scared to talk to people. Can I be a nurse? Will I be a good nurse? And so I wanted to talk a little bit about this. I feel like it's kind of difficult for me to really, truly talk about this because I'm a very outgoing person. I don't have a difficult time with meeting new people and talking to new people and interacting, but I do know a lot of nurses who are on the more shy side who are still wonderful nurses. I feel like that being a nurse, I don't want to say it's kind of different than like your normal outside setting. A lot of people are able to kind of separate their fears so to speak and just put themselves in the moment and be able to communicate with people and talk with people. And I know people who are kind of shy outside of work who are actually super outgoing during work, which is interesting, but I don't feel shyness prohibits you from being a good or bad nurse. I think that personally for myself, I kind of like to plan my interactions or plan things that I'm going to say or I plan things out in my head like so if a patient said this to me, how would I respond? And I think that comes a lot like when you're shy, you kind of worry about like how am I going to say this or how am I going to talk to this person? And I think a lot of that just comes with time and experience and also like planning out what you're going to say. I'm not going to lie. There's times when like patients or their family members say things to me and in my head I'm like, oh my God, I don't know what to say. Like how do I possibly like respond to that? But honestly like the only thing you need to know how to respond to is like, oh I'm not quite sure, let me figure that out or I'm not sure, let me look into that or I've never had that question before, so let me think about it. You know, you don't have to always answer people right off the bat if they say awkward things to you or have questions that you don't know. You don't have to know everything as a nurse. And as far as just like that fear of communicating with people it really does get easier. I've said this in a couple of my videos already. I had an instructor in my first semester of nursing school who said think about how scared you are the first time you walk into a patient's room. Think about how scared you are right now in your first semester of nursing school and that's how your patients feel when they're in the hospital and if you really think about that then you're able to kind of put yourselves in their shoes for the moment and really they're more scared of you than you are of them. Thank you guys for watching this video. If you're shy or not shy or have any advice or tips leave them in the comments below. But thank you guys for watching this video and I'll see you next time. Bye.


sits right at the middle of the bahirangayog and antarangayog. Bahirangayog is where practices can be seen from outside means people can see we are following certain moral instructions, doing some purification process, performing asanas, performing breathing exercises or pranayama and the antarangayog which is difficult to validate from outside which is dharana which is concentration, meditation or dhyan and samadhi. Pratyahar sits right between that. Pratyahar comes from the word prati, ah and hara. Prati means in response to observe opposed to or against a denotes near or towards and hara denotes bring back properly. Together it literally means the act of collection or to step purposely in order to attain the right mode of consciousness in a more powerful way. Assimilating our self is the simple term I use to convey the idea of pratyahar. Getting back within assimilating our life energies so that I can reassess the situation better and employ my life energies in the right direction. According to Patanjali yoga sutra, pratyahar is state of physical cutting means and their respective objects. So, vishaya up a samprayoge chittas sarupanukar eva indriyaanam pratyahara. So, vishaya in the respective areas of dwelling of whom of the indriyas of the mental faculties asamprayoge chittasya and disconnecting the chitta and the moment of indriyas so that chitta can dwell within that is the process of pratyahar. Next sutra says that tatah parama vashyata indriyaanam regular practice of pratyahar lead to attainment of greater control over the senses and functioning of organismic system. So, if we have to achieve dharana or dhyan we need to go through pratyahar that is the clear instruction by Maharshi Patanjali in yoga sutra. Come back to Bhagavad Gita. Bhagavad Gita gives excellent practical definition of pratyahar using the allegory or using the example of tortoise. What Bhagavad Gita says? Yad asan harate chayam kurmongaani visarvasah indriyaani indyarthe bhya tascha pragya pratishthita when like tortoise which withdraws its limbs from all sides he withdraws his senses from the sense object then his wisdom becomes steady. So, Lord Krishna is giving example of tortoise kurmongaani visarvasah like tortoise which recollects all its appendages within. Indriyaani indyarthe bhya in the same day the mental faculties indriya as well as the action faculties when they are assimilated brought into within or is centered in this process wisdom arises. Pratyahar was also mentioned in Upanishad like Trishikha Brahman Upanishad says Pratyahar being a introverted state of mind detachment of senses from respective object that is what Pratyahar is detachment of senses from their respective objects. Tej Indu Upanishad says that it is a pleasant state of consciousness that observes the mind preoccupied with the impact of objects of senses. So, as mentioned earlier Patanjali Yoga Sutra beautifully compiles the wisdom spread in hundreds of Upanishad and many other texts in the form of sutras and we can actually trace Patanjali Yoga Sutra in the Upanishadic literature as well these are some examples. In the Shandil Upanishad and Darshan Upanishad there are five characteristics given about Pratyahar. One it is forcible withdrawal of sense organs from object of sensual pleasures with which they interact. Second looking upon everything as one sees as Atman as true self that is the outcome of Pratyahar. Third giving up desires to attain the fruits of one's action that is Pratyahar in action turning one's attention away from all material things and thoughts that is another sign of Pratyahar and fifth is projection of vital energy what we called prana the pranic energy or vital energy and mind on the 18 vital regions of one's body by shifting attention from one point to another. David Frawley very beautifully summarized that Pratyahar happens at three levels at the physical level at the level of mental impressions and at the level of our association. Physical levels it is most connected to our food or whatever we take as food so that it that can be the sound that can be smell that can be of course taste and the stuff we take inside. Impressions these are mental ahar mental food which bring in the subtle substances necessary to nourish the mind so emotions, sensations, thoughts these create impressions and these are also connected with the physical food these can be independent of the physical food or physical aspects of the life as well they can be more abstract they can be more into the subject experience that also come under the purview of Pratyahar that also needs to be controlled and third is Pratyahar at the level of our association. People we hold at the heart level who serve to nourish the soul and affect us with the gunas of Satva, Raja and Thamma our association with the different people also brings some sanskaras or some impressions these impressions can be satvik impressions or related to illumination, light, knowledge, activity ah these impressions can be related to rajasic impressions that can be about ambition about expansion about ah intense activity ah these sanskaras can be also tamasic in nature which is more like inertia or inactivity in our relationships we keep accumulating these impressions Pratyahar that is why has to be performed at all three levels we need to control our physical food we need to need to have Pratyahar or anti ahar at the impressions level and we also need to have anti ahar Pratyahar at our at the level of our association our relationships Pratyahar is two fold it is level one it is about controlling the inappropriate impressions physical food and association and at another level attracting and absorbing right food right impressions and right relationship or associations, but the process of Pratyahar is about going within centering and we are going to look at that in our senses controlling our action controlling our vital energy and withdrawing our mind from the senses enjoying from the outside.