Let us give him a call.
At the wave of the statue's hand the great chords roll out again but this time Mozart's music gets grotesquely adulterated with Gounod's.
A scarlet halo begins to glow; and into it the Devil rises, very Mephistophelean, and not at all unlike Mendoza, though not so interesting.
He looks older; is getting prematurely bald; and, in spite of an effusion of goodnature and friendliness, is peevish and sensitive when his advances are not reciprocated.
He does not inspire much confidence in his powers of hard work or endurance, and is, on the whole, a disagreeably self-indulgent looking person; but he is clever and plausible, though perceptibly less well bred than the two other men, and enormously less vital than the woman.
THE DEVIL. [heartily] Have I the pleasure of again receiving a visit from the illustrious Commander of Calatrava? [Coldly] Don Juan, your servant. [Politely] And a strange lady?
My respects, Senora.
ANA.
Are you—
THE DEVIL. [bowing] Lucifer, at your service.
ANA.
I shall go mad.
THE DEVIL. [gallantly] Ah, Senora, do not be anxious.
You come to us from earth, full of the prejudices and terrors of that priest-ridden place.
You have heard me ill spoken of; and yet, believe me, I have hosts of friends there.
ANA.
Yes: you reign in their hearts.
THE DEVIL. [shaking his head] You flatter me, Senora; but you are mistaken.
It is true that the world cannot get on without me; but it never gives me credit for that: in its heart it mistrusts and hates me.
Its sympathies are all with misery, with poverty, with starvation of the body and of the heart.
I call on it to sympathize with joy, with love, with happiness, with beauty.
DON JUAN. [nauseated] Excuse me: I am going.
You know I cannot stand this.
THE DEVIL. [angrily] Yes: I know that you are no friend of mine.
THE STATUE.
What harm is he doing you, Juan?
It seems to me that he was talking excellent sense when you interrupted him.
THE DEVIL. [warmly shaking the statue's hand] Thank you, my friend: thank you.
You have always understood me: he has always disparaged and avoided me.
DON JUAN.
I have treated you with perfect courtesy.
THE DEVIL.
Courtesy!
What is courtesy?
I care nothing for mere courtesy.
Give me warmth of heart, true sincerity, the bond of sympathy with love and joy—
DON JUAN.
You are making me ill.
THE DEVIL.
There! [Appealing to the statue] You hear, sir!
Oh, by what irony of fate was this cold selfish egotist sent to my kingdom, and you taken to the icy mansions of the sky!
THE STATUE.
I can't complain.
I was a hypocrite; and it served me right to be sent to heaven.
THE DEVIL.
Why, sir, do you not join us, and leave a sphere for which your temperament is too sympathetic, your heart too warm, your capacity for enjoyment too generous?
THE STATUE.
I have this day resolved to do so.
In future, excellent Son of the Morning, I am yours.
I have left Heaven for ever.