“D. JOHN.--Come! ’Tis no matter. Let it be what it will, it must be natural. “D. ANT.--And nature is unalterable in us too. “D. JOHN.--’Tis true! The nature of a ghost can not change our’s.” Who also can deny a portion of sublimity to the tremendous consistency with which he stands out the last fearful trial, like a second Prometheus? “Chorus of Devils. “STATUE-GHOST.--Will you not relent and feel remorse? “D. JOHN.--Could’st thou bestow another heart on me I might. But with this heart I have, I can not. “D. LOPEZ.--These things are prodigious. “D. ANTON.--I have a sort of grudging to relent, but something holds me back. “D. LOP.--If we could, ’tis now too late. I will not. “D. ANT.--We defy thee! “GHOST.--Perish ye impious wretches, go and find the punishments laid up in store for you! (Thunder and lightning. D. Lop. and D. Ant. are swallowed up.) “GHOST To D. JOHN.--Behold their dreadful fates, and know that thy last moment’s come! “D. JOHN.--Think not to fright me, foolish ghost; I’ll break your marble body in pieces and pull down your horse. (Thunder and lightning--chorus of devils, etc.) “D. JOHN.--These things I see with wonder, but no fear. Were all the elements to be confounded, And shuffled all into their former chaos; Were seas of sulphur flaming round about me, And all mankind roaring within those fires, I could not fear, or feel the least remorse. To the last instant I would dare thy power. Here I stand firm, and all thy threats contemn. Thy murderer (to the ghost of one whom he had murdered) Stands here! Now do thy worst!” (He is swallowed up in a cloud of fire.) In fine the character of Don John consists in the union of every thing desirable to human nature, as means, and which therefore by the well known law of association becomes at length desirable on their own account. On their own account, and, in their own dignity, they are here displayed, as being employed to ends so unhuman, that in the effect, they appear almost as means without an end. The ingredients too are mixed in the happiest proportion, so as to uphold and relieve each other--more especially in that constant interpoise of wit, gaiety, and social generosity, which prevents the criminal, even in his most atrocious moments, from sinking into the mere ruffian, as far at least, as our imagination sits in judgment. Above all, the fine suffusion through the whole, with the characteristic manners and feelings, of a highly bred gentleman gives life to the drama. Thus having invited the statue-ghost of the governor, whom he had murdered, to supper, which invitation the marble ghost accepted by a nod of the head, Don John has prepared a banquet. “D. JOHN.--Some wine, sirrah! Here’s to Don Pedro’s ghost--he should have been welcome. “D. LOP.--The rascal is afraid of you after death. (One knocks hard at the door.)