Full resolution (JPEG) - On this page / på denna sida - The Ball at Ekeby
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a tableau chiefly that Marienne should be seen in
great splendor.
Before a stage erected in the big salon at Ekeby
sat a hundred guests, and watched a golden
Spanish moon rise in a dark midnight sky. Then a Don
Juan stole through the Seville street till he paused
beneath a myrtle-covered balcony. He was disguised
as a monk, but a white embroidered ruffle
showed at his sleeve, and the gleaming point of a
rapier protruded from his cloak.
He raised his voice and sang:
“I kiss no maiden dear,
Nor press my lips to a flagon’s rim
To taste the purling wine.
A cheek so clear
Set on fire by my glance,
Sweet eyes, seeking mine
As if by chance—
Such worldly pleasures are not for me.
“Come not in your beauty’s might,
Señora, to the lattice here,
I tremble at your sight.
I wear the cowl
And the rosary long,
To the Madonna still
Does my heart belong;
In the water cruse I must drown my song.”
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