He basely has fled! Oh, wretched me! Was it that way? Look here now, see this not too small volume, 'Tis almost full of the names, of his fair ones; Town and village, distant countries, yes, foreign nations, Can witness bear to his infatuations.
Waitingmaids, nineteen or twenty. Rustic beauties, Marchionesses, Ev'ry grade his pow'r confesses. Here are courtly dames and maidens, Young and handsome, old and plain. Is a maiden fair and slender, He will praise her for modest sweetness, Then the dark ones are so tender!
Lintwhite tresses shew discreetness; When 'tis cold he likes her portly, In the summer, slim and courtly, Tall and haughty, ne'er she alarms him, If she's tiny, no less she charms him. Ripe duennas he engages, That their names may grace these pages, But what most he's bent on winning, Is of youth the sweet beginning, Poor or wealthy, wan or healthy, Stately dame or modest beauty, He to win them makes his duty, And you know it, not in vain.
To her swain let no maiden say nay! To her swain let no maiden say nay, La, la, re, la, la, la, la, re, la. MASETTO Oh, yes swains and young lasses take warning, Ye lasses take warning, Lest your true love ye trifle away, away in play, And the season of joy turn to mourning, And joy turn to mourning, When your youth's giddy visions decay.
Let us carol and dance and be gay, La, la, re, la, la, la, la, re, la. The bridegroom? How shall I call you? From this hour you are under my protection.
Rascal, what are you doing? Now come. You may be sure that he will escort her bravely. No, no, no, nevermore. You're a gentleman, I know, That to doubt were wrong indeed, Vulgar loves you can't allow, gentle wishes to impede. Always trust a noble's honour, This should be the vassal's creed.
Exit with Leporello. Zerlina and Don Giovanni. Think you a man of feeling, A well-born Cavalier, such ev'n as I am, Tamely can see such sweet and dainty freshness, Such delicate perfections, All thrown away upon a senseless rustic? You were not intended by nature for a peasant; A brighter fortune is in store For those balmy cheeks of roses, Where sly Cupid reposes, That snowy brow where not a shadow lowers That pretty mouth of coral, that breathes o flowers.
I know how seldom you great lords With us simple country maidens court with loyal intention. I know I should not Too late, I may repent. Exeunt, arm in arm. Donna Elvira and the formers.
By heav'n I'm sent, thy perfidy to witness; And to prevent thee From deluding this poor girl's inexperience With thy treacherous language. Indeed, Sir! Harmless pastime! Deceitful man I know too much of your pastime. But I must treat her kindly, She cannot bear from my side to be parted, Unfortunately I am too tenderhearted.
His flatt'ry heed thou not, While yet there's time, retreat, Or woe befall thee. From wrong unjust and cruel, From long remorse and tears, From wasted lonely years I would recall thee.
Exit, leading off Zerlina. Don Giovanni! And why? Nay, life itself I give to your service: But why, fairest Donn'Anna, why thus for ever mourning? Who has dar'd to invade the tranquil peace of that heart, With grief insidious? Monster perfidious! A noble lady this! She sorely seems distraught!
Her warning voice, her mien of woe, By bitter grief were taught! The fit may be prevented If she's by me besought. I pray you, friends, stay near me! Sure some cause there must be for this raving None can tell, none can tell what befell thee, None can tell what this grief on thee brought. Who will tell thee, Who'll tell what befell me! Who this grief, who this grief on me brought. Vile betrayer! Is he pleading? Why those loud and angry whispers? These are signs not hard in reading, That her griefs by him were fram'd!
Thou'lt a rabble gather round us! Hush, and stay thy silly raving, Thy behaving makes me quite of thee ashamed!
Exit Donna Elvira Ah, poor afflicted creature! She needs a friend to watch o'er her steps; I go, that no evil may befall her. Then forgive me, dear lady, if I quit you, Till your summons demand me, Now and ever, devoted, your servant, command me! Don Octavio and Donna Anna. Oh, heaven! That was the murderer of my dear Father!
But proceed, the whole, oh, tell me, Of this dark adventure. But soon I had discovered How great was my error! I struggled; No one was near, one hand upon my mouth he placed, My screaming to stifle, with the other he press'd me Close in his grasp - I scarcely could resist him. And then? That sav'd thee! DONNA ANNA Aloud then I clamour'd for assistance, Call'd on the household, he sought to fly, But boldly I pursued him into the street, That we might trace him, Becoming of my assailant assailer, 'Twas there that my father straight-way challeng'd him, And the villain, by whose strength he was easily overpower'd, Stay'd not his guilty madness, gave him the deathblow.
The wretch now thou knowest, Who sought my betraying, And vengeance thou owest My father's, my father's foul slaying.
For justice I sue thee; I ask of thy troth, I ask of thy troth. Remember when wounded, His lifeblood was flowing, Unsolaced, unshriven, He heard not, he heard not my crying, My heart will be riven, If thou break thy oath. Closely I will pursue him, Till the truth is discovered, Ev'ry emotion, my allegiance to the dear one Whom my faith I have plighted, Bids me avenge her wrongs and see her righted.
Leporello alone, then Don Giovanni. See, there he comes, look at him, So cool, just as if nothing e'er had happened. How can that be? Nothing could be better. Now guess who was with her? Soon I will finish what so well you've begun. But now these country-girls with their gay sports invite me, We will return to them. I'll now delight me. Maids are pretty, Dames that are witty, All to my castle Bid them repair. I'll have no discipline, Folly shall rule it, Some minuetting, Each one shall fool it Some a fandango, So they are fair, Some minuetting, So they are fair! Then in the gloaming, Pensively roaming, Some pretty damsel with me will stray Beauties in plenty my list adorning, Will, ere the morning, Not say me nay, none say me nay.
Two closed doors in the wall. Two alcoves. Zerlina, Masetto, chorus of peasants, scattered here and there, sitting or lying on banks of turf. Faithless girl! No longer I'll bear your caprices, Since no longer you love me.
And have you the face to make excuses? A stranger leads you on, For him you leave me on the eve of our marriage, Both your faith and my honour forgetting, You rush on to your ruin!