It is past midnight in Salamanca, the city “famed in arms and letters” on the river Tormes, the hour when, old stories say, the dead leave their graves. Swords clash and a dying cry rings out; a cloaked man, sword still in hand, crosses the narrow Calle del Ataúd, the Street of the Coffin, lit only by the lamp before an image of Christ. So we meet Don Félix de Montemar: a rich, noble, handsome student, gambler, brawler and blasphemer, who courts women and forgets them the next day.
The second part belongs to Elvira, the innocent girl who believed him. Abandoned, she wanders a moonlit garden at night and, her mind already gone, pulls the petals off flowers, throws them into the river and sings her sorrow. Before dying of love she regains her reason and writes Don Félix a farewell letter: she asks for neither love nor pity, only that he read these lines and forget her forever.
The third part is a short scene written as a play. In a smoky gambling den six men are playing cards when Don Félix arrives and stakes a chain and a lady’s portrait in a jeweled frame. Then a cloaked stranger walks in: Don Diego de Pastrana, Elvira’s brother, back from Flanders to avenge her. Don Félix mocks him and they leave to fight. The fourth and longest part brings Don Félix back to the Street of the Coffin, where a lady veiled in white kneels in prayer before the crucifix.
The ending (spoilers)
Don Félix has killed Don Diego: the dying cry at the start was his. He follows the white lady, who warns him he is walking toward death, through streets that transform around him: towers start to walk, bells toll his name and a hundred ghosts dance around him. He meets a funeral procession and finds that the two dead men are Don Diego and himself; he laughs and walks on. In a mansion of empty galleries and tombs he tumbles down an endless spiral staircase to a tomb that is also a bridal bed. The dead rise, and when he lifts the lady’s veil he finds a skull: it is Elvira, and Don Diego’s ghost announces that she is now his wife. Don Félix accepts with a sneer; the skeleton embraces and kisses him amid the whirling ghosts, and he, his spirit never broken, feels his body give way and fade. At dawn Salamanca whispers that the devil, in the shape of a woman, came for Montemar that night.