without　an　effort。　Not　until　the　slain　father　returns　from　heaven
  as　the　agent　of　God；　in　the　form　of　his　own　statue；　does　he
  prevail　against　his　slayer　and　cast　him　into　hell。　The　moral　is　a
  monkish　one：　repent　and　reform　now；　for　to…morrow　it　may　be　too
  late。　This　is　really　the　only　point　on　which　Don　Juan　is
  sceptical；　for　he　is　a　devout　believer　in　an　ultimate　hell；　and
  risks　damnation　only　because；　as　he　is　young；　it　seems　so　far　off
  that　repentance　can　be　postponed　until　he　has　amused　himself　to
  his　heart's　content。
  But　the　lesson　intended　by　an　author　is　hardly　ever　the　lesson
  the　world　chooses　to　learn　from　his　book。　What　attracts　and
  impresses　us　in　El　Burlador　de　Sevilla　is　not　the　immediate
  urgency　of　repentance；　but　the　heroism　of　daring　to　be　the　enemy
  of　God。　From　Prometheus　to　my　own　Devil's　Disciple；　such　enemies
  have　always　been　popular。　Don　Juan　became　such　a　pet　that　the
  world　could　not　bear　his　damnation。　It　reconciled　him
  sentimentally　to　God　in　a　second　version；　and　clamored　for　his
  canonization　for　a　whole　century；　thus　treating　him　as　English
  journalism　has　treated　that　comic　foe　of　the　gods；　Punch。
  Moliere's　Don　Juan　casts　back　to　the　original　in　point　of
  impenitence；　but　in　piety　he　falls　off　greatly。　True；　he　also
  proposes　to　repent；　but　in　what　terms？　〃Oui；　ma　foi！　il　faut
  s'amender。　Encore　vingt　ou　trente　ans　de　cette　vie…ci；　et　puis
  nous　songerons　a　nous。〃　After　Moliere　comes　the　artist…enchanter；
  the　master　of　masters；　Mozart；　who　reveals　the　hero's　spirit　in
  magical　harmonies；　elfin　tones；　and　elate　darting　rhythms　as　of
  summer　lightning　made　audible。　Here　you　have　freedom　in　love　and
  in　morality　mocking　exquisitely　at　slavery　to　them；　and
  interesting　you；　attracting　you；　tempting　you；　inexplicably
  forcing　you　to　range　the　hero　with　his　enemy　the　statue　on　a
  transcendant　plane；　leaving　the　prudish　daughter　and　her　priggish
  lover　on　a　crockery　shelf　below　to　live　piously　ever　after。
  After　these　completed　works　Byron's　fragment　does　not　count　for
  much　philosophically。　Our　vagabond　libertines　are　no　more
  interesting　from　that　point　of　view　than　the　sailor　who　has　a
  wife　in　every　port；　and　Byron's　hero　is；　after　all；　only　a
  vagabond　libertine。　And　he　is　dumb：　he　does　not　discuss　himself
  with　a　Sganarelle…Leporello　or　with　the　fathers　or　brothers　of
  his　mistresses：　he　does　not　even；　like　Casanova；　tell　his　own
  story。　In　fact　he　is　not　a　true　Don　Juan　at　all；　for　he　is　no
  more　an　enemy　of　God　than　any　romantic　and　adventurous　young
  sower　of　wild　oats。　Had　you　and　I　been　in　his　place　at　his　age；
  who　knows　whether　we　might　not　have　done　as　he　did；　unless
  indeed　your　fastidiousness　had　saved　you　from　the　empress
  Catherine。　Byron　was　as　little　of　a　philosopher　as　Peter　the
  Great：　both　were　instances　of　that　rare　and　useful；　but
  unedifying　variation；　an　energetic　genius　born　without　the
  prejudices　or　superstitions　of　his　contemporaries。　The　resultant
  unscrupulous　freedom　of　thought　made　Byron　a　greater　poet　than
  Wordsworth　just　as　it　made　Peter　a　greater　king　than　George　III；
  but　as　it　was；　after　all；　only　a　negative　qualification；　it　did
  not　prevent　Peter　from　being　an　appalling　blackguard　and　an
  arrant　poltroon；　nor　did　it　enable　Byron　to　become　a　religious
  force　like　Shelley。　Let　us；　then；　leave　Byron's　Don　Juan　out　of
  account。　Mozart's　is　the　last　of　the　true　Don　Juans；　for　by　the
  time　he　was　of　age；　his　cousin　Faust　had；　in　the　hands　of　Goethe；
  taken　his　place　and　carried　both　his　warfare　and　his
  reconciliation　with　the　gods　far　beyond　mere　lovemaking　into
  politics；　high　art；　schemes　for　reclaiming　new　continents　from
  the　ocean；　and　recognition　of　an　eternal　womanly　principle　in　the
  universe。　Goethe's　Faust　and　Mozart's　Don　Juan　were　the　last
  words　of　the　XVIII　century　on　the　subject；　and　by　the　time　the
  polite　critics　of　the　XIX　century；　ignoring　William　Blake　as
  superficially　as　the　XVIII　had　ignored　Hogarth　or　the　XVII
  Bunyan；　had　got　past　the　Dickens…Macaulay　Dumas…Guizot　stage　and
  the　Stendhal…Meredith…Turgenieff　stage；　and　were　confronted　with
  philosophic　fiction　by　such　pens　as　Ibsen's　and　Tolstoy's；　Don
  Juan　had　changed　his　sex　and　become　Dona　Juana；　breaking　out　of
  the　Doll's　House　and　asserting　herself　as　an　individual　instead
  of　a　mere　item　in　a　moral　pageant。
  Now　it　is　all　very　well　for　you　at　the　beginning　of　the　XX
  century　to　ask　me　for　a　Don　Juan　play；　but　you　will　see　from　the
  foregoing　survey　that　Don　Juan　is　a　full　century　out　of　date　for
  you　and　for　me；　and　if　there　are　millions　of　less　literate　people
  who　are　still　in　the　eighteenth　century；　have　they　not　Moliere
  and　Mozart；　upon　whose　art　no　human　hand　can　improve？　You　would
  laugh　at　me　if　at　this　time　of　day　I　dealt　in　duels　and　ghosts
  and　〃womanly〃　women。　As　to　mere　libertinism；　you　would　be　the
  first　to　remind　me　that　the　Festin　de　Pierre　of　Moliere　is　not　a
  play　for　amorists；　and　that　one　bar　of　the　voluptuous
  sentimentality　of　Gounod　or　Bizet　would　appear　as　a　licentious
  stain　on　the　score　of　Don　Giovanni。　Even　the　more　abstract　parts
  of　the　Don　Juan　play　are　dilapidated　past　use：　for　instance；　Don
  Juan's　supernatural　antagonist　hurled　those　who　refuse　to　repent
  into　lakes　of　burning　brimstone；　there　to　be　tormented　by　devils
  with　horns　and　tails。　Of　that　antagonist；　and　of　that　conception
  of　repentance；　how　much　is　left　that　could　be　used　in　a　play　by
  me　dedicated　to　you？　On　the　other　hand；　those　forces　of　middle
  class　public　opinion　which　hardly　existed　for　a　Spanish　nobleman
  in　the　days　of　the　first　Don　Juan；　are　now　triumphant　everywhere。
  Civilized　society　is　one　huge　bourgeoisie：　no　nobleman　dares　now
  shock　his　greengrocer。　The　women；　〃marchesane；　principesse；
  cameriere；　cittadine〃　and　all；　are　become　equally　dangerous：　the
  sex　is　aggressive；　powerful：　when　women　are　wronged　they　do　not
  group　themselves　pathetically　to　sing　〃Protegga　il　giusto
  cielo〃：　they　grasp　formidable　legal　and　social　weapons；　and
  retaliate。　Political　parties　are　wrecked　and　public　careers
  undone　by　a　single　indiscretion。　A　man　had　better　have　all　the
  statues　in　London　to　supper　with　him；　ugly　as　they　are；　than　be
  brought　to　the　bar　of　the　Nonconformist　Conscience　by　Donna
  Elvira。　Excommunication　has　become　almost　as　serious　a　business
  as　it　was　in　the　X　century。
  As　a　result；　Man　is　no　longer；　like　Don　Juan；　victor　in　the　duel
  of　sex。　Whether　he　has　ever　really　been　may　be　doubted：　at　all
  events　the　enormous　superiority　of　Woman's　natural　position　in
  this　matter　is　telling　with　greater　and　greater　force。　As　to
  pulling　the　Nonconformist　Conscience　by　the　beard　as　Don　Juan
  plucked　the　beard　of　the　Commandant's　statue　in　the　convent　of
  San　Francisco；　that　is　out　of　the　question　nowadays：　prudence　and
  good　manners　alike　forbid　it　to　a　hero　with　any　mind。　Besides；　it
  is　Don　Juan's　own　beard　that　is　in　danger　of　plucking。　Far　from
  relapsing　into　hypocrisy；　as　Sganarelle　feared；　he　has
  unexpectedly　discovered　a　moral　in　his　immorality。　The　growing
  recognition　of　his　new　point　of　view　is　heaping　responsibility　on
  him。　His　former　jests　he　has　had　to　take　as　seriously　as　I　have
  had　to　take　some　of　the　jests　of　Mr　W。　S。　Gilbert。　His
  scepticism；　once　his　least　tolerated　quality；　has　now　triumphed
  so　completely　that　he　can　no　longer　assert　himself　by　witty
  negations；　and　must；　to　save　himself　from　cipherdom；　find　an
  affirmative　position。　His　thousand　and　three　affairs　of
  gallantry；　after　becoming；　at　most；　two　immature　intrigues
  leading　to　sordid　and　prolonged　complications　and　humiliations；
  have　been　discarded　altogether　as　unworthy　of　his　philosophic
  dignity　and　compromising　to　his　newly　acknowledged　position　as
  the　founder　of　a　school。　Instead　of　pretending　to　read　Ovid　he
  does　actually　read　Schopenhaur　and　Nietzsche；　studies
  Westermarck；　and　is　concerned　for　the　future　of　the　race　instead
  of　for　the　freedom　of　his　own　instincts。　Thus　his　profligacy　and
  his　dare…devil　airs　have　gone　the　way　of　his　sword　and　mandoline
  into　the　rag　shop　of　anachronisms　and　superstitions。　In　fact；　he
  is　now　more　Hamlet　than　Don　Juan；　for　though　the　lines　put　into
  the　actor's　mouth　to　indicate　to　the　pit　that　Hamlet　is　a
  philosopher　are　for　the　most　part　mere　harmonious　platitude
  which；　with　a　little　debasement　of　the　word…music；　would　be
  properer　to　Pecksniff；　yet　if　you　separate　the　real　hero；
  inarticulate　and　unintelligible　to　himself　except　in　flashes　of
  inspiration；　from　the　performer　who　has　to　talk　at　any　cost
  through　five　acts；　and　if　you　also　do　what　you　must　always　do　in
  Shakespear's　tragedies：　that　is；　dissect　out　the　absurd
  sensational　incidents　and　physical　violences　of　the　borrowed
  story　from　the　genuine　Shakespearian　tissue；　you　will　get　a　true
  Promethean　foe　of　the　gods；　whose　instinctive　attitude　towards
  women　much　resembles　that　to　which　Don　Juan　is　now　driven。　From
  this　point　of　view　Hamlet　was　a　developed　Don　Juan　whom
  Shakespear　palmed　off　as　a　reputable　man　just　as　he　palmed　poor
  Macbeth　off　as　a　murderer。　To…day　the　palming　off　is　no　longer
  necessary　（at　least　on　your　plane　and　mine）　because　Don　Juanism
  is　no　longer　misunderstood　as　mere　Casanovism。　Don　Juan　himself
  is　almost　ascetic　in　his　desire　to　avoid　that　misu