Who cares for death? Not I!A thousand times I would die,Rather than suffer wrong!Already those women of mineAre mixing the myrrh and the wine;I shall not be with you long.VIIIECCE HOMOPILATE, on the tessellated pavement in front of his palace. Ye have brought unto me this man, as one Who doth pervert the people; and behold! I have examined him, and found no fault Touching the things whereof ye do accuse him. No, nor yet Herod; for I sent you to him, And nothing worthy of death he findeth in him. Ye have a custom at the Passover; That one condemned to death shall be released. Whom will ye, then, that I release to you? Jesus Barabbas, called the Son of Shame, Or Jesus, Son of Joseph, called the Christ?THE PEOPLE, shouting. Not this man, but Barabbas!PILATE.What then will yeThat I should do with him that is called Christ?THE PEOPLE. Crucify him!PILATE.Why, what evil hath he done?Lo, I have found no cause of death in him;I will chastise him, and then let him go.THE PEOPLE, more vehemently. Crucify him! crucify him!A MESSENGER, to PILATE.Thy wife sendsThis message to thee,—Have thou naught to doWith that just man; for I this day in dreamsHave suffered many things because of him.PILATE, aside. The Gods speak to us in our dreams! I tremble At what I have to do! O Claudia, How shall I save him? Yet one effort more, Or he must perish!Washes his hands before them.I am innocentOf the blood of this just person; see ye to it!THE PEOPLE. Let his blood be on us and on our children!VOICES, within the palace. Put on thy royal robes; put on thy crown, And take thy sceptre! Hail, thou King of the Jews!PILATE. I bring him forth to you, that ye may know I find no fault in him. Behold the man!CHRISTUS is led in with the purple robe and crown of thorns.CHIEF PRIESTS and OFFICERS. Crucify him! crucify him!PILATE.Take ye him;I find no fault in him.CHIEF PRIESTS.We have a Law,And by our Law he ought to die; becauseHe made himself to be the Son of God.PILATE, aside. Ah! there are Sons of God, and demigods More than ye know, ye ignorant High-Priests!To CHRISTUS. Whence art thou?CHIEF PRIESTS.Crucify him! crucify him!PILATE, to CHRISTUS. Dost thou not answer me? Dost thou not know That I have power enough to crucify thee? That I have also power to set thee free?CHRISTUS. Thou couldst have no power at all against me Except that it were given thee from above; Therefore hath he that sent me unto thee The greater sin.CHIEF PRIESTS.If thou let this man go,Thou art not Caesar's friend. For whosoeverMaketh himself a King, speaks against Caesar.PILATE. Ye Jews, behold your King!CHIEF PRIESTS.Away with him!Crucify him!PILATE.Shall I crucify your King?CHIEF PRIESTS. We have no King but Caesar!PILATE.Take him, then,Take him, ye cruel and bloodthirsty priests,More merciless than the plebeian mob,Who pity and spare the fainting gladiatorBlood-stained in Roman amphitheatres,—Take him, and crucify him if ye will;But if the immortal Gods do ever mingleWith the affairs of mortals, which I doubt not,And hold the attribute of justice dear,They will commission the EumenidesTo scatter you to the four winds of heaven,Exacting tear for tear, and blood for blood.Here, take ye this inscription, Priests, and nail itUpon the cross, above your victim's head:Jesus of Nazareth, King of the Jews.CHIEF PRIESTS. Nay, we entreat! write not, the King of the Jews! But that he said: I am the King of the Jews!PILATE. Enough. What I have written, I have written.IXACELDAMAJUDAS ISCARIOT. Lost! Lost! Forever lost! I have betrayed The innocent blood! O God! if thou art love, Why didst thou leave me naked to the tempter? Why didst thou not commission thy swift lightning To strike me dead? or why did I not perish With those by Herod slain, the innocent children, Who went with playthings in their little hands Into the darkness of the other world, As if to bed? Or wherefore was I born, If thou in thy foreknowledge didst perceive All that I am, and all that I must be? I know I am not generous, am not gentle, Like other men; but I have tried to be, And I have failed. I thought by following him I should grow like him; but the unclean spirit That from my childhood up hath tortured me Hath been too cunning and too strong for me, Am I to blame for this? Am I to blame Because I cannot love, and ne'er have known The love of woman or the love of children? It is a curse and a fatality, A mark that hath been set upon my forehead, That none shall slay me, for it were a mercy That I were dead, or never had been born.Too late! too late! I shall not see Him more Among the living. That sweet, patient face Will never more rebuke me, nor those lips Repeat the words: One of you shall betray me! It stung me into madness. How I loved, Yet hated Him: But in the other world! I will be there before Him, and will wait Until he comes, and fall down on my knees And kiss his feet, imploring pardon, pardon!I heard Him say: All sins shall be forgiven, Except the sin against the Holy Ghost. That shall not be forgiven in this world, Nor in the world to come. Is that my sin? Have I offended so there is no hope Here nor hereafter? That I soon shall know. O God, have mercy! Christ have mercy on me!Throws himself headlong from the cliff.XTHE THREE CROSSESMANAHEM, THE ESSENIAN. Three crosses in this noonday night uplifted, Three human figures that in mortal pain Gleam white against the supernatural darkness; Two thieves, that writhe in torture, and between them The Suffering Messiah, the Son of Joseph, Ay, the Messiah Triumphant, Son of David! A crown of thorns on that dishonored head! Those hands that healed the sick now pierced with nails, Those feet that wandered homeless through the world Now crossed and bleeding, and at rest forever! And the three faithful Maries, overwhelmed By this great sorrow, kneeling, praying weeping! O Joseph Caiaphas, thou great High-Priest How wilt thou answer for this deed of blood?SCRIBES and ELDERS. Thou that destroyest the Temple, and dost build it In three days, save thyself; and if thou be The Son of God, come down now from the cross.CHIEF PRIESTS. Others he saved, himself he cannot save! Let Christ the King of Israel descend That we may see and believe!SCRIBES and ELDERS.In God he trusted;Let Him deliver him, if He will have him,And we will then believe.CHRISTUS.Father! forgive them;They know not what they do.THE IMPENITENT THIEF.If thou be Christ,Oh save thyself and us!THE PENITENT THIEF.Remember me,Lord, when thou comest into thine own kingdom.CHRISTUS. This day shalt thou be with me in Paradise.MANAHEN. Golgotha! Golgotha! Oh the pain and darkness! Oh the uplifted cross, that shall forever Shine through the darkness, and shall conquer pain By the triumphant memory of this hour!SIMON MAGUS. O Nazarene! I find thee here at last! Thou art no more a phantom unto me! This is the end of one who called himself The Son of God! Such is the fate of those Who preach new doctrines. 'T is not what he did, But what he said, hath brought him unto this. I will speak evil of no dignitaries. This is my hour of triumph, Nazarene!THE YOUNG RULER. This is the end of him who said to me: Sell that thou hast, and give unto the poor! This is the treasure in heaven he promised me!CHRISTUS. Eloi, Eloi, lama sabachthani!A SOLDIER, preparing the hyssop. He calleth for Elias!ANOTHER.Nay, let be!See if Elias will now come to save him!CHRISTUS. I thirst.A SOLDIER.Give him the wormwood!CHRISTUS, with a loud cry, bowing his head.It is finished!XITHE TWO MARIESMARY MAGDALENE. We have risen early, yet the sun O'ertakes us ere we reach the sepulchre, To wrap the body of our blessed Lord With our sweet spices.MARY, MOTHER OF JAMES.Lo, this is the garden,And yonder is the sepulchre. But whoShall roll away the stone for us to enter?MARY MAGDALENE. It hath been rolled away! The sepulchre Is open! Ah, who hath been here before us, When we rose early, wishing to be first?MARY, MOTHER OF JAMES. I am affrighted!MARY MAGDALENE.Hush! I will stoop downAnd look within. There is a young man sittingOn the right side, clothed in a long white garment!It is an angel!THE ANGEL.Fear not; ye are seekingJesus of Nazareth, which was crucified.Why do ye seek the living among the dead?He is no longer here; He is arisen!Come see the place where the Lord lay! RememberHow He spake unto you in Galilee,Saying: The Son of Man must be deliveredInto the hands of sinful men; by themBe crucified, and the third day rise again!But go your way, and say to his disciples,He goeth before you into Galilee;There shall ye see Him as He said to you.MARY, MOTHER OF JAMES. I will go swiftly for them.MARY MAGDALENE, alone, weeping.They have takenMy Lord away from me, and now I know notWhere they have laid Him! Who is there to tell me?This is the gardener. Surely he must know.CHRISTUS. Woman, why weepest thou? Whom seekest thou?MARY MAGDALENE. They have taken my Lord away; I cannot find Him. O sir, if thou have borne Him hence, I pray thee Tell me where thou hast laid Him.CHRISTUS.Mary!MARY MAGDALENE.Rabboni!XITHE SEA OF GALILEENATHANIEL, in the ship. All is now ended.JOHN.Nay, He is arisen,I ran unto the tomb, and stooping downLooked in, and saw the linen grave-clothes lying,Yet dared not enter.PETER.I went in, and sawThe napkin that had been about his head,Not lying with the other linen clothes,But wrapped together in a separate place.THOMAS. And I have seen Him. I have seen the print Of nails upon his hands, and thrust my hands Into his side. I know He is arisen; But where are now the kingdom and the glory He promised unto us? We have all dreamed That we were princes, and we wake to find We are but fishermen.PETER.Who should have beenFishers of men!JOHN.We have come back againTo the old life, the peaceful life, amongThe white towns of the Galilean lake.PETER. They seem to me like silent sepulchres In the gray light of morning! The old life, Yea, the old life! for we have toiled all night And have caught nothing.JOHN.Do ye see a manStanding upon the beach and beckoning?'T is like an apparition. He hath kindledA fire of coals, and seems to wait for us.He calleth.CHRISTUS, from the shore.Children, have ye any meat?PETER. Alas! We have caught nothing.CHRISTUS.Cast the netOn the right side of the ship, and ye shall find.PETER. How that reminds me of the days gone by, And one who said: Launch out into the deep, And cast your nets!NATHANAEL.We have but let them downAnd they are filled, so that we cannot draw them!JOHN. It is the Lord!PETER, girding his fisher's coat about him.He said: When I am risenI will go before you into Galilee!He casts himself into the lake.JOHN. There is no fear in love; for perfect love Casteth out fear. Now then, if ye are men, Put forth your strength; we are not far from shore; The net is heavy, but breaks not. All is safe.PETER, on the shore. Dear Lord! I heard thy voice and could not wait. Let me behold thy face, and kiss thy feet! Thou art not dead, thou livest! Again I see thee. Pardon, dear Lord! I am a sinful man; I have denied thee thrice. Have mercy on me!THE OTHERS, coming to land. Dear Lord! stay with us! cheer us! comfort us! Lo! we again have found thee! Leave us not!CHRISTUS. Bring hither of the fish that ye have caught, And come and eat!JOHN.Behold! He breaketh breadAs He was wont. From his own blessed handsAgain we take it.CHRISTUS.Simon, son of Jonas,Lovest thou me, more than these others?PETER.Yea,More, Lord, than all men, even more than these.Thou knowest that I love thee.CHRISTUS.Feed my lambs.THOMAS, aside. How more than we do? He remaineth ever Self-confident and boastful as before. Nothing will cure him.CHRISTUS.Simon, son of Jonas,Lovest thou me?PETER.Yea, dearest Lord, I love thee.Thou knowest that I love thee.CHRISTUS.Feed my sheep.THOMAS, aside. Again, the selfsame question, and the answer Repeated with more vehemence. Can the Master Doubt if we love Him?CHRISTUS.Simon, son of Jonas,Lovest thou me?PETER, grieved.Dear Lord, thou knowest all things.Thou knowest that I love thee.CHRISTUS.Feed my sheep.When thou wast young thou girdedst thyself, and walkedstWhither thou wouldst; but when thou shalt be old,Thou shalt stretch forth thy hands, and other menShall gird and carry thee whither thou wouldst not.Follow thou me!JOHN, aside.It is a prophecyOf what death he shall die.PETER, pointing to JOHN.Tell me, O Lord,And what shall this man do?CHRISTUS.And if I willHe tarry till I come, what is it to thee?Follow thou me!PETER. Yea, I will follow thee, dear Lord and Master! Will follow thee through fasting and temptation, Through all thine agony and bloody sweat, Thy cross and passion, even unto death!EPILOGUESYMBOLUM APOSTOLORUMPETER. I believe in God the Father Almighty;JOHN. Maker of heaven and Earth;JAMES. And in Jesus Christ his only Son, our Lord;ANDREW. Who was conceived by the Holy Ghost, born of the Virgin Mary;PHILIP. Suffered under Pontius Pilate, was crucified, dead, and buried;THOMAS. And the third day He rose again from the dead;BARTHOLOMEW. He ascended into Heaven, and sitteth on the right hand of God, the Father Almighty;MATTHEW. From thence He shall come to judge the quick and the dead.JAMES, THE SON OF ALFHEUS. I believe in the Holy Ghost; the holy Catholic Church;SIMON ZELOTES. The communion of Saints; the forgiveness of sins;JUDE. The resurrection of the body;MATTHIAS. And the Life Everlasting.FIRST INTERLUDETHE ABBOT JOACHIMA ROOM IN THE CONVENT OF FLORA IN CALABRIA. NIGHT.JOACHIM. The wind is rising; it seizes and shakes The doors and window-blinds and makes Mysterious moanings in the halls; The convent-chimneys seem almost The trumpets of some heavenly host, Setting its watch upon our walls! Where it listeth, there it bloweth; We hear the sound, but no man knoweth Whence it cometh or whither it goeth, And thus it is with the Holy Ghost. O breath of God! O my delight In many a vigil of the night, Like the great voice in Patmos heard By John, the Evangelist of the Word, I hear thee behind me saying: Write In a book the things that thou hast seen, The things that are, and that have been, And the things that shall hereafter be!This convent, on the rocky crest Of the Calabrian hills, to me A Patmos is wherein I rest; While round about me like a sea The white mists roll, and overflow The world that lies unseen below In darkness and in mystery. Here in the Spirit, in the vast Embrace of God's encircling arm, Am I uplifted from all harm The world seems something far away, Something belonging to the Past, A hostelry, a peasant's farm, That lodged me for a night or day, In which I care not to remain, Nor, having left, to see again.Thus, in the hollow of Gods hand I dwelt on sacred Tabor's height, When as a simple acolyte I journeyed to the Holy Land, A pilgrim for my master's sake, And saw the Galilean Lake, And walked through many a village street That once had echoed to his feet. There first I heard the great command, The voice behind me saying: Write! And suddenly my soul became Illumined by a flash of flame, That left imprinted on my thought The image I in vain had sought, And which forever shall remain; As sometimes from these windows high, Gazing at midnight on the sky Black with a storm of wind and rain, I have beheld a sudden glare Of lightning lay the landscape bare, With tower and town and hill and plain Distinct and burnt into my brain, Never to be effaced again!And I have written. These volumes three, The Apocalypse, the Harmony Of the Sacred Scriptures, new and old, And the Psalter with Ten Strings, enfold Within their pages, all and each, The Eternal Gospel that I teach. Well I remember the Kingdom of Heaven Hath been likened to a little leaven Hidden in two measures of meal, Until it leavened the whole mass; So likewise will it come to pass With the doctrines that I here conceal.Open and manifest to me The truth appears, and must be told; All sacred mysteries are threefold; Three Persons in the Trinity, Three ages of Humanity, And holy Scriptures likewise three, Of Fear, of Wisdom, and of Love; For Wisdom that begins in Fear Endeth in Love; the atmosphere In which the soul delights to be And finds that perfect liberty Which cometh only from above.In the first Age, the early prime And dawn of all historic time, The Father reigned; and face to face He spake with the primeval race. Bright Angels, on his errands sent, Sat with the patriarch in his tent; His prophets thundered in the street; His lightnings flashed, his hailstorms beat; In earthquake and in flood and flame, In tempest and in cloud He came! The fear of God is in his Book; The pages of the Pentateuch Are full of the terror of his name.Then reigned the Son; his Covenant Was peace on earth, good-will to man; With Him the reign of Law began. He was the Wisdom and the Word, And sent his Angels Ministrant, Unterrified and undeterred, To rescue souls forlorn and lost, The troubled, tempted, tempest-tost To heal, to comfort, and to teach. The fiery tongues of Pentecost His symbols were, that they should preach In every form of human speech From continent to continent. He is the Light Divine, whose rays Across the thousand years unspent Shine through the darkness of our days, And touch with their celestial fires Our churches and our convent spires. His Book is the New Testament.These Ages now are of the Past; And the Third Age begins at last. The coming of the Holy Ghost, The reign of Grace, the reign of Love Brightens the mountain-tops above, And the dark outline of the coast. Already the whole land is white With Convent walls, as if by night A snow had fallen on hill and height! Already from the streets and marts Of town and traffic, and low cares, Men climb the consecrated stairs With weary feet, and bleeding hearts; And leave the world and its delights, Its passions, struggles, and despairs, For contemplation and for prayers In cloister-cells of coenobites.Eternal benedictions rest Upon thy name, Saint Benedict! Founder of convents in the West, Who built on Mount Cassino's crest In the Land of Labor, thine eagle's nest! May I be found not derelict In aught of faith or godly fear, If I have written, in many a page, The Gospel of the coming age, The Eternal Gospel men shall hear. Oh may I live resembling thee, And die at last as thou hast died; So that hereafter men may see, Within the choir, a form of air, Standing with arms outstretched in prayer, As one that hath been crucified! My work is finished; I am strong In faith and hope and charity; For I have written the things I see, The things that have been and shall be, Conscious of right, nor fearing wrong; Because I am in love with Love, And the sole thing I hate is Hate; For Hate is death; and Love is life, A peace, a splendor from above; And Hate, a never-ending strife, A smoke, a blackness from the abyss Where unclean serpents coil and hiss! Love is the Holy Ghost within Hate the unpardonable sin! Who preaches otherwise than this Betrays his Master with a kiss!PART TWOTHE GOLDEN LEGENDPROLOGUETHE SPIRE OF STRASBURG CATHEDRALNight and storm. LUCIFER, with the Powers of the Air, trying to tear down the Cross.LUCIFER. Hasten! hasten! O ye spirits! From its station drag the ponderous Cross of iron, that to mock us Is uplifted high in air!VOICES. Oh, we cannot! For around it All the Saints and Guardian Angels Throng in legions to protect it; They defeat us everywhere!THE BELLS.Laudo Deum verum!Plebem voco!Congrego clerum!LUCIFER. Lower! lower! Hover downward! Seize the loud, vociferous bells, and Clashing, clanging to the pavement, Hurl them from their windy tower.VOICES. All thy thunders Here are harmless! For these bells have been anointed, And baptized with holy water! They defy our utmost power.THE BELLS.Defunctos ploro!Pestem fugo!Festa decoro!LUCIFER. Shake the casements! Break the painted Panes, that flame with gold and crimson; Scatter them like leaves of Autumn, Swept away before the blast!VOICES. Oh, we cannot! The Archangel Michael flames from every window, With the sword of fire that drove us Headlong, out of heaven, aghast!THE BELLS.Funera plango!Fulgura frango!Sabbata pango!LUCIFER. Aim your lightnings At the oaken, Massive, iron-studded portals! Sack the house of God, and scatter Wide the ashes of the dead!VOICES. Oh, we cannot! The Apostles And the Martyrs, wrapped in mantles, Stand as warders at the entrance, Stand as sentinels o'erhead!THE BELLS.Excito lentos!Dissipo ventos!Paco cruentos!LUCIFER. Baffled! baffled! Inefficient, Craven spirits! leave this labor Unto time, the great Destroyer! Come away, ere night is gone!VOICES. Onward! onward! With the night-wind, Over field and farm and forest, Lonely homestead, darksome hamlet, Blighting all we breathe upon!They sweep away. Organ and Gregorian Chant.CHOIR. Nocte surgentes Vigilemus omnes!ITHE CASTLE OF VAUTSBERG ON THE RHINEA chamber in a tower. PRINCE HENRY sitting alone, ill and restless. Midnight.PRINCE HENRY. I cannot sleep! my fervid brain Calls up the vanished Past again, And throws its misty splendors deep Into the pallid realms of sleep! A breath from that far-distant shore Comes freshening ever more and more, And wafts o'er intervening seas Sweet odors from the Hesperides! A wind, that through the corridor Just stirs the curtain, and no more, And, touching the aolian strings, Faints with the burden that it brings! Come back! ye friendships long departed! That like o'erflowing streamlets started, And now are dwindled, one by one, To stony channels in the sun! Come back! ye friends, whose lives are ended, Come back, with all that light attended, Which seemed to darken and decay When ye arose and went away!They come, the shapes of joy and woe, The airy crowds of long ago, The dreams and fancies known of yore, That have been, and shall be no more. They change the cloisters of the night Into a garden of delight; They make the dark and dreary hours Open and blossom into flowers! I would not sleep! I love to be Again in their fair company; But ere my lips can bid them stay, They pass and vanish quite away! Alas! our memories may retrace Each circumstance of time and place, Season and scene come back again, And outward things unchanged remain; The rest we cannot reinstate; Ourselves we can not re-create; Nor set our souls to the same key Of the remembered harmony!Rest! rest! Oh, give me rest and peace! The thought of life that ne'er shall cease Has something in it like despair, A weight I am too weak to bear! Sweeter to this afflicted breast The thought of never-ending rest! Sweeter the undisturbed and deep Tranquillity of endless sleep!A flash of lightning, out of which LUCIFER appears, in the garb of a travelling Physician.LUCIFER. All hail, Prince Henry!PRINCE HENRY, starting.Who is it speaks?Who and what are you?LUCIFER.One who seeksA moment's audience with the Prince.PRINCE HENRY. When came you in?LUCIFER.A moment since.I found your study door unlocked,And thought you answered when I knocked.PRINCE HENRY. I did not hear you.LUCIFER.You heard the thunder;It was loud enough to waken the dead.And it is not a matter of special wonderThat, when God is walking overhead,You should not hear my feeble tread.PRINCE HENRY. What may your wish or purpose be?LUCIFER. Nothing or everything, as it pleases Your Highness. You behold in me Only a travelling Physician; One of the few who have a mission To cure incurable diseases, Or those that are called so.PRINCE HENRY.Can you bringThe dead to life?LUCIFER.Yes; very nearly.And, what is a wiser and better thing,Can keep the living from ever needingSuch an unnatural, strange proceeding,By showing conclusively and clearlyThat death is a stupid blunder merely,And not a necessity of our lives.My being here is accidental;The storm, that against your casement drives,In the little village below waylaid me.And there I heard, with a secret delight,Of your maladies physical and mental,Which neither astonished nor dismayed me.And I hastened hither, though late in the night,To proffer my aid!PRINCE HENRY, ironically.For this you came!Ah, how can I ever hope to requiteThis honor from one so erudite?LUCIFER. The honor is mine, or will be when I have cured your disease.PRINCE HENRY.But not till then.LUCIFER. What is your illness?PRINCE HENRY.It has no name.A smouldering, dull, perpetual flame,As in a kiln, burns in my veins,Sending up vapors to the head;My heart has become a dull lagoon,Which a kind of leprosy drinks and drains;I am accounted as one who is dead,And, indeed, I think that I shall be soon.LUCIFER. And has Gordonius the Divine, In his famous Lily of Medicine,— I see the book lies open before you,— No remedy potent enough to restore you?PRINCE HENRY. None whatever!LUCIFER.The dead are dead,And their oracles dumb, when questionedOf the new diseases that human lifeEvolves in its progress, rank and rife.Consult the dead upon things that were,But the living only on things that are.Have you done this, by the applianceAnd aid of doctors?PRINCE HENRY.Ay, whole schoolsOf doctors, with their learned rules;But the case is quite beyond their science.Even the doctors of SalernSend me back word they can discernNo cure for a malady like this,Save one which in its nature isImpossible and cannot be!LUCIFER. That sounds oracular!PRINCE HENRY.Unendurable!LUCIFER. What is their remedy?PRINCE HENRY.You shall see;Writ in this scroll is the mystery.LUCIFER, reading. "Not to be cured, yet not incurable! The only remedy that remains Is the blood that flows from a maiden's veins, Who of her own free will shall die, And give her life as the price of yours!"That is the strangest of all cures, And one, I think, you will never try; The prescription you may well put by, As something impossible to find Before the world itself shall end! And yet who knows? One cannot say That into some maiden's brain that kind Of madness will not find its way. Meanwhile permit me to recommend, As the matter admits of no delay, My wonderful Catholicon, Of very subtile and magical powers!PRINCE HENRY. Purge with your nostrums and drugs infernal The spouts and gargoyles of these towers, Not me! My faith is utterly gone In every power but the Power Supernal! Pray tell ne, of what school are you?LUCIFER. Both of the Old and of the New! The school of Hermes Trismegistus, Who uttered his oracles sublime Before the Olympiads, in the dew Of the early dusk and dawn of time, The reign of dateless old Hephæstus! As northward, from its Nubian springs, The Nile, forever new and old, Among the living and the dead, Its mighty mystic stream has rolled; So, starting from its fountain-head Under the lotus-leaves of Isis, From the dead demigods of eld, Through long unbroken lines of kings Its course the sacred art has held, Unchecked, unchanged by man's devices. This art the Arabian Geber taught, And in alembics, finely wrought, Distilling herbs and flowers, discovered The secret that so long had hovered Upon the misty verge of Truth, The Elixir of Perpetual Youth, Called Alcohol, in the Arab speech! Like him, this wondrous lore I teach!PRINCE HENRY. What! an adept?LUCIFFR.Nor less, nor more!PRINCE HENRY. I am a reader of your books, A lover of that mystic lore! With such a piercing glance it looks Into great Nature's open eye, And sees within it trembling lie The portrait of the Deity! And yet, alas! with all my pains, The secret and the mystery Have baffled and eluded me, Unseen the grand result remains!LUCIFER, showing a flask. Behold it here! this little flask Contains the wonderful quintessence, The perfect flower and efflorescence, Of all the knowledge man can ask! Hold it up thus against the light!PRINCE HENRY. How limpid, pure, and crystalline, How quick, and tremulous, and bright The little wavelets dance and shine, As were it the Water of Life in sooth!LUCIFER. It is! It assuages every pain, Cures all disease, and gives again To age the swift delights of youth. Inhale its fragrance.PRINCE HENRY.It is sweet.A thousand different odors meetAnd mingle in its rare perfume,Such as the winds of summer waftAt open windows through a room!LUCIFER. Will you not taste it?PRINCE HENRY.Will one draughtSuffice?LUCIFER.If not, you can drink more.PRINCE HENRY. Into this crystal goblet pour So much as safely I may drink,LUCIFER, pouring. Let not the quantity alarm you; You may drink all; it will not harm you.PRINCE HENRY. I am as one who on the brink Of a dark river stands and sees The waters flow, the landscape dim Around him waver, wheel, and swim, And, ere he plunges, stops to think Into what whirlpools he may sink; One moment pauses, and no more, Then madly plunges from the shore! Headlong into the mysteries Of life and death I boldly leap, Nor fear the fateful current's sweep, Nor what in ambush lurks below! For death is better than disease!An ANGEL with an æolian harp hovers in the air.ANGEL. Woe! woe! eternal woe! Not only the whispered prayer Of love, But the imprecations of hate, Reverberate For ever and ever through the air Above! This fearful curse Shakes the great universe!LUCIFER, disappearing. Drink! drink! And thy soul shall sink Down into the dark abyss, Into the infinite abyss, From which no plummet nor rope Ever drew up the silver sand of hope!PRINCE HENRY, drinking. It is like a draught of fire! Through every vein I feel again The fever of youth, the soft desire; A rapture that is almost pain Throbs in my heart and fills my brain O joy! O joy! I feel The band of steel That so long and heavily has pressed Upon my breast Uplifted, and the malediction Of my affliction Is taken from me, and my weary breast At length finds rest.THE ANGEL. It is but the rest of the fire, from which the air has been taken! It is but the rest of the sand, when the hour-glass is not shaken! It is but the rest of the tide between the ebb and the flow! It is but the rest of the wind between the flaws that blow! With fiendish laughter, Hereafter, This false physician Will mock thee in thy perdition.PRINCE HENRY. Speak! speak! Who says that I am ill? I am not ill! I am not weak! The trance, the swoon, the dream, is o'er! I feel the chill of death no more! At length, I stand renewed in all my strength Beneath me I can feel The great earth stagger and reel, As if the feet of a descending God Upon its surface trod, And like a pebble it rolled beneath his heel! This, O brave physician! this Is thy great Palingenesis!Drinks again.THE ANGEL. Touch the goblet no more! It will make thy heart sore To its very core! Its perfume is the breath Of the Angel of Death, And the light that within it lies Is the flash of his evil eyes. Beware! Oh, beware! For sickness, sorrow, and care All are there!PRINCE HENRY, sinking back. O thou voice within my breast! Why entreat me, why upbraid me, When the steadfast tongues of truth And the flattering hopes of youth Have all deceived me and betrayed me? Give me, give me rest, oh rest! Golden visions wave and hover, Golden vapors, waters streaming, Landscapes moving, changing, gleaming! I am like a happy lover, Who illumines life with dreaming! Brave physician! Rare physician! Well hast thou fulfilled thy mission!His head falls on his book.THE ANGEL, receding. Alas! alas! Like a vapor the golden vision Shall fade and pass, And thou wilt find in thy heart again Only the blight of pain, And bitter, bitter, bitter contrition!COURT-YARD OF THE CASTLEHUBERT standing by the gateway.HUBERT. How sad the grand old castle looks! O'erhead, the unmolested rooks Upon the turret's windy top Sit, talking of the farmer's crop Here in the court-yard springs the grass, So few are now the feet that pass; The stately peacocks, bolder grown, Come hopping down the steps of stone, As if the castle were their own; And I, the poor old seneschal, Haunt, like a ghost, the banquet-hall. Alas! the merry guests no more Crowd through the hospitable door; No eyes with youth and passion shine, No cheeks glow redder than the wine; No song, no laugh, no jovial din Of drinking wassail to the pin; But all is silent, sad, and drear, And now the only sounds I hear Are the hoarse rooks upon the walls, And horses stamping in their stalls!A horn sounds.What ho! that merry, sudden blast Reminds me of the days long past! And, as of old resounding, grate The heavy hinges of the gate, And, clattering loud, with iron clank, Down goes the sounding bridge of plank, As if it were in haste to greet The pressure of a traveller's feet!Enter WALTER the Minnesinger.WALTER. How now, my friend! This looks quite lonely! No banner flying from the walls, No pages and no seneschals, No warders, and one porter only! Is it you, Hubert?
Who cares for death? Not I!A thousand times I would die,Rather than suffer wrong!Already those women of mineAre mixing the myrrh and the wine;I shall not be with you long.
PILATE, on the tessellated pavement in front of his palace. Ye have brought unto me this man, as one Who doth pervert the people; and behold! I have examined him, and found no fault Touching the things whereof ye do accuse him. No, nor yet Herod; for I sent you to him, And nothing worthy of death he findeth in him. Ye have a custom at the Passover; That one condemned to death shall be released. Whom will ye, then, that I release to you? Jesus Barabbas, called the Son of Shame, Or Jesus, Son of Joseph, called the Christ?
THE PEOPLE, shouting. Not this man, but Barabbas!
PILATE.What then will yeThat I should do with him that is called Christ?
THE PEOPLE. Crucify him!
PILATE.Why, what evil hath he done?Lo, I have found no cause of death in him;I will chastise him, and then let him go.
THE PEOPLE, more vehemently. Crucify him! crucify him!
A MESSENGER, to PILATE.Thy wife sendsThis message to thee,—Have thou naught to doWith that just man; for I this day in dreamsHave suffered many things because of him.
PILATE, aside. The Gods speak to us in our dreams! I tremble At what I have to do! O Claudia, How shall I save him? Yet one effort more, Or he must perish!
Washes his hands before them.
I am innocentOf the blood of this just person; see ye to it!
THE PEOPLE. Let his blood be on us and on our children!
VOICES, within the palace. Put on thy royal robes; put on thy crown, And take thy sceptre! Hail, thou King of the Jews!
PILATE. I bring him forth to you, that ye may know I find no fault in him. Behold the man!
CHRISTUS is led in with the purple robe and crown of thorns.
CHIEF PRIESTS and OFFICERS. Crucify him! crucify him!
PILATE.Take ye him;I find no fault in him.
CHIEF PRIESTS.We have a Law,And by our Law he ought to die; becauseHe made himself to be the Son of God.
PILATE, aside. Ah! there are Sons of God, and demigods More than ye know, ye ignorant High-Priests!
To CHRISTUS. Whence art thou?
CHIEF PRIESTS.Crucify him! crucify him!
PILATE, to CHRISTUS. Dost thou not answer me? Dost thou not know That I have power enough to crucify thee? That I have also power to set thee free?
CHRISTUS. Thou couldst have no power at all against me Except that it were given thee from above; Therefore hath he that sent me unto thee The greater sin.
CHIEF PRIESTS.If thou let this man go,Thou art not Caesar's friend. For whosoeverMaketh himself a King, speaks against Caesar.
PILATE. Ye Jews, behold your King!
CHIEF PRIESTS.Away with him!Crucify him!
PILATE.Shall I crucify your King?
CHIEF PRIESTS. We have no King but Caesar!
PILATE.Take him, then,Take him, ye cruel and bloodthirsty priests,More merciless than the plebeian mob,Who pity and spare the fainting gladiatorBlood-stained in Roman amphitheatres,—Take him, and crucify him if ye will;But if the immortal Gods do ever mingleWith the affairs of mortals, which I doubt not,And hold the attribute of justice dear,They will commission the EumenidesTo scatter you to the four winds of heaven,Exacting tear for tear, and blood for blood.Here, take ye this inscription, Priests, and nail itUpon the cross, above your victim's head:Jesus of Nazareth, King of the Jews.
CHIEF PRIESTS. Nay, we entreat! write not, the King of the Jews! But that he said: I am the King of the Jews!
PILATE. Enough. What I have written, I have written.
JUDAS ISCARIOT. Lost! Lost! Forever lost! I have betrayed The innocent blood! O God! if thou art love, Why didst thou leave me naked to the tempter? Why didst thou not commission thy swift lightning To strike me dead? or why did I not perish With those by Herod slain, the innocent children, Who went with playthings in their little hands Into the darkness of the other world, As if to bed? Or wherefore was I born, If thou in thy foreknowledge didst perceive All that I am, and all that I must be? I know I am not generous, am not gentle, Like other men; but I have tried to be, And I have failed. I thought by following him I should grow like him; but the unclean spirit That from my childhood up hath tortured me Hath been too cunning and too strong for me, Am I to blame for this? Am I to blame Because I cannot love, and ne'er have known The love of woman or the love of children? It is a curse and a fatality, A mark that hath been set upon my forehead, That none shall slay me, for it were a mercy That I were dead, or never had been born.
Too late! too late! I shall not see Him more Among the living. That sweet, patient face Will never more rebuke me, nor those lips Repeat the words: One of you shall betray me! It stung me into madness. How I loved, Yet hated Him: But in the other world! I will be there before Him, and will wait Until he comes, and fall down on my knees And kiss his feet, imploring pardon, pardon!
I heard Him say: All sins shall be forgiven, Except the sin against the Holy Ghost. That shall not be forgiven in this world, Nor in the world to come. Is that my sin? Have I offended so there is no hope Here nor hereafter? That I soon shall know. O God, have mercy! Christ have mercy on me!
Throws himself headlong from the cliff.
MANAHEM, THE ESSENIAN. Three crosses in this noonday night uplifted, Three human figures that in mortal pain Gleam white against the supernatural darkness; Two thieves, that writhe in torture, and between them The Suffering Messiah, the Son of Joseph, Ay, the Messiah Triumphant, Son of David! A crown of thorns on that dishonored head! Those hands that healed the sick now pierced with nails, Those feet that wandered homeless through the world Now crossed and bleeding, and at rest forever! And the three faithful Maries, overwhelmed By this great sorrow, kneeling, praying weeping! O Joseph Caiaphas, thou great High-Priest How wilt thou answer for this deed of blood?
SCRIBES and ELDERS. Thou that destroyest the Temple, and dost build it In three days, save thyself; and if thou be The Son of God, come down now from the cross.
CHIEF PRIESTS. Others he saved, himself he cannot save! Let Christ the King of Israel descend That we may see and believe!
SCRIBES and ELDERS.In God he trusted;Let Him deliver him, if He will have him,And we will then believe.
CHRISTUS.Father! forgive them;They know not what they do.
THE IMPENITENT THIEF.If thou be Christ,Oh save thyself and us!
THE PENITENT THIEF.Remember me,Lord, when thou comest into thine own kingdom.
CHRISTUS. This day shalt thou be with me in Paradise.
MANAHEN. Golgotha! Golgotha! Oh the pain and darkness! Oh the uplifted cross, that shall forever Shine through the darkness, and shall conquer pain By the triumphant memory of this hour!
SIMON MAGUS. O Nazarene! I find thee here at last! Thou art no more a phantom unto me! This is the end of one who called himself The Son of God! Such is the fate of those Who preach new doctrines. 'T is not what he did, But what he said, hath brought him unto this. I will speak evil of no dignitaries. This is my hour of triumph, Nazarene!
THE YOUNG RULER. This is the end of him who said to me: Sell that thou hast, and give unto the poor! This is the treasure in heaven he promised me!
CHRISTUS. Eloi, Eloi, lama sabachthani!
A SOLDIER, preparing the hyssop. He calleth for Elias!
ANOTHER.Nay, let be!See if Elias will now come to save him!
CHRISTUS. I thirst.
A SOLDIER.Give him the wormwood!
CHRISTUS, with a loud cry, bowing his head.It is finished!
MARY MAGDALENE. We have risen early, yet the sun O'ertakes us ere we reach the sepulchre, To wrap the body of our blessed Lord With our sweet spices.
MARY, MOTHER OF JAMES.Lo, this is the garden,And yonder is the sepulchre. But whoShall roll away the stone for us to enter?
MARY MAGDALENE. It hath been rolled away! The sepulchre Is open! Ah, who hath been here before us, When we rose early, wishing to be first?
MARY, MOTHER OF JAMES. I am affrighted!
MARY MAGDALENE.Hush! I will stoop downAnd look within. There is a young man sittingOn the right side, clothed in a long white garment!It is an angel!
THE ANGEL.Fear not; ye are seekingJesus of Nazareth, which was crucified.Why do ye seek the living among the dead?He is no longer here; He is arisen!Come see the place where the Lord lay! RememberHow He spake unto you in Galilee,Saying: The Son of Man must be deliveredInto the hands of sinful men; by themBe crucified, and the third day rise again!But go your way, and say to his disciples,He goeth before you into Galilee;There shall ye see Him as He said to you.
MARY, MOTHER OF JAMES. I will go swiftly for them.
MARY MAGDALENE, alone, weeping.They have takenMy Lord away from me, and now I know notWhere they have laid Him! Who is there to tell me?This is the gardener. Surely he must know.
CHRISTUS. Woman, why weepest thou? Whom seekest thou?
MARY MAGDALENE. They have taken my Lord away; I cannot find Him. O sir, if thou have borne Him hence, I pray thee Tell me where thou hast laid Him.
CHRISTUS.Mary!
MARY MAGDALENE.Rabboni!
NATHANIEL, in the ship. All is now ended.
JOHN.Nay, He is arisen,I ran unto the tomb, and stooping downLooked in, and saw the linen grave-clothes lying,Yet dared not enter.
PETER.I went in, and sawThe napkin that had been about his head,Not lying with the other linen clothes,But wrapped together in a separate place.
THOMAS. And I have seen Him. I have seen the print Of nails upon his hands, and thrust my hands Into his side. I know He is arisen; But where are now the kingdom and the glory He promised unto us? We have all dreamed That we were princes, and we wake to find We are but fishermen.
PETER.Who should have beenFishers of men!
JOHN.We have come back againTo the old life, the peaceful life, amongThe white towns of the Galilean lake.
PETER. They seem to me like silent sepulchres In the gray light of morning! The old life, Yea, the old life! for we have toiled all night And have caught nothing.
JOHN.Do ye see a manStanding upon the beach and beckoning?'T is like an apparition. He hath kindledA fire of coals, and seems to wait for us.He calleth.
CHRISTUS, from the shore.Children, have ye any meat?
PETER. Alas! We have caught nothing.
CHRISTUS.Cast the netOn the right side of the ship, and ye shall find.
PETER. How that reminds me of the days gone by, And one who said: Launch out into the deep, And cast your nets!
NATHANAEL.We have but let them downAnd they are filled, so that we cannot draw them!
JOHN. It is the Lord!
PETER, girding his fisher's coat about him.He said: When I am risenI will go before you into Galilee!
He casts himself into the lake.
JOHN. There is no fear in love; for perfect love Casteth out fear. Now then, if ye are men, Put forth your strength; we are not far from shore; The net is heavy, but breaks not. All is safe.
PETER, on the shore. Dear Lord! I heard thy voice and could not wait. Let me behold thy face, and kiss thy feet! Thou art not dead, thou livest! Again I see thee. Pardon, dear Lord! I am a sinful man; I have denied thee thrice. Have mercy on me!
THE OTHERS, coming to land. Dear Lord! stay with us! cheer us! comfort us! Lo! we again have found thee! Leave us not!
CHRISTUS. Bring hither of the fish that ye have caught, And come and eat!
JOHN.Behold! He breaketh breadAs He was wont. From his own blessed handsAgain we take it.
CHRISTUS.Simon, son of Jonas,Lovest thou me, more than these others?
PETER.Yea,More, Lord, than all men, even more than these.Thou knowest that I love thee.
CHRISTUS.Feed my lambs.
THOMAS, aside. How more than we do? He remaineth ever Self-confident and boastful as before. Nothing will cure him.
CHRISTUS.Simon, son of Jonas,Lovest thou me?
PETER.Yea, dearest Lord, I love thee.Thou knowest that I love thee.
CHRISTUS.Feed my sheep.
THOMAS, aside. Again, the selfsame question, and the answer Repeated with more vehemence. Can the Master Doubt if we love Him?
CHRISTUS.Simon, son of Jonas,Lovest thou me?
PETER, grieved.Dear Lord, thou knowest all things.Thou knowest that I love thee.
CHRISTUS.Feed my sheep.When thou wast young thou girdedst thyself, and walkedstWhither thou wouldst; but when thou shalt be old,Thou shalt stretch forth thy hands, and other menShall gird and carry thee whither thou wouldst not.Follow thou me!
JOHN, aside.It is a prophecyOf what death he shall die.
PETER, pointing to JOHN.Tell me, O Lord,And what shall this man do?
CHRISTUS.And if I willHe tarry till I come, what is it to thee?Follow thou me!
PETER. Yea, I will follow thee, dear Lord and Master! Will follow thee through fasting and temptation, Through all thine agony and bloody sweat, Thy cross and passion, even unto death!
PETER. I believe in God the Father Almighty;
JOHN. Maker of heaven and Earth;
JAMES. And in Jesus Christ his only Son, our Lord;
ANDREW. Who was conceived by the Holy Ghost, born of the Virgin Mary;
PHILIP. Suffered under Pontius Pilate, was crucified, dead, and buried;
THOMAS. And the third day He rose again from the dead;
BARTHOLOMEW. He ascended into Heaven, and sitteth on the right hand of God, the Father Almighty;
MATTHEW. From thence He shall come to judge the quick and the dead.
JAMES, THE SON OF ALFHEUS. I believe in the Holy Ghost; the holy Catholic Church;
SIMON ZELOTES. The communion of Saints; the forgiveness of sins;
JUDE. The resurrection of the body;
MATTHIAS. And the Life Everlasting.
A ROOM IN THE CONVENT OF FLORA IN CALABRIA. NIGHT.
JOACHIM. The wind is rising; it seizes and shakes The doors and window-blinds and makes Mysterious moanings in the halls; The convent-chimneys seem almost The trumpets of some heavenly host, Setting its watch upon our walls! Where it listeth, there it bloweth; We hear the sound, but no man knoweth Whence it cometh or whither it goeth, And thus it is with the Holy Ghost. O breath of God! O my delight In many a vigil of the night, Like the great voice in Patmos heard By John, the Evangelist of the Word, I hear thee behind me saying: Write In a book the things that thou hast seen, The things that are, and that have been, And the things that shall hereafter be!
This convent, on the rocky crest Of the Calabrian hills, to me A Patmos is wherein I rest; While round about me like a sea The white mists roll, and overflow The world that lies unseen below In darkness and in mystery. Here in the Spirit, in the vast Embrace of God's encircling arm, Am I uplifted from all harm The world seems something far away, Something belonging to the Past, A hostelry, a peasant's farm, That lodged me for a night or day, In which I care not to remain, Nor, having left, to see again.
Thus, in the hollow of Gods hand I dwelt on sacred Tabor's height, When as a simple acolyte I journeyed to the Holy Land, A pilgrim for my master's sake, And saw the Galilean Lake, And walked through many a village street That once had echoed to his feet. There first I heard the great command, The voice behind me saying: Write! And suddenly my soul became Illumined by a flash of flame, That left imprinted on my thought The image I in vain had sought, And which forever shall remain; As sometimes from these windows high, Gazing at midnight on the sky Black with a storm of wind and rain, I have beheld a sudden glare Of lightning lay the landscape bare, With tower and town and hill and plain Distinct and burnt into my brain, Never to be effaced again!
And I have written. These volumes three, The Apocalypse, the Harmony Of the Sacred Scriptures, new and old, And the Psalter with Ten Strings, enfold Within their pages, all and each, The Eternal Gospel that I teach. Well I remember the Kingdom of Heaven Hath been likened to a little leaven Hidden in two measures of meal, Until it leavened the whole mass; So likewise will it come to pass With the doctrines that I here conceal.
Open and manifest to me The truth appears, and must be told; All sacred mysteries are threefold; Three Persons in the Trinity, Three ages of Humanity, And holy Scriptures likewise three, Of Fear, of Wisdom, and of Love; For Wisdom that begins in Fear Endeth in Love; the atmosphere In which the soul delights to be And finds that perfect liberty Which cometh only from above.
In the first Age, the early prime And dawn of all historic time, The Father reigned; and face to face He spake with the primeval race. Bright Angels, on his errands sent, Sat with the patriarch in his tent; His prophets thundered in the street; His lightnings flashed, his hailstorms beat; In earthquake and in flood and flame, In tempest and in cloud He came! The fear of God is in his Book; The pages of the Pentateuch Are full of the terror of his name.
Then reigned the Son; his Covenant Was peace on earth, good-will to man; With Him the reign of Law began. He was the Wisdom and the Word, And sent his Angels Ministrant, Unterrified and undeterred, To rescue souls forlorn and lost, The troubled, tempted, tempest-tost To heal, to comfort, and to teach. The fiery tongues of Pentecost His symbols were, that they should preach In every form of human speech From continent to continent. He is the Light Divine, whose rays Across the thousand years unspent Shine through the darkness of our days, And touch with their celestial fires Our churches and our convent spires. His Book is the New Testament.
These Ages now are of the Past; And the Third Age begins at last. The coming of the Holy Ghost, The reign of Grace, the reign of Love Brightens the mountain-tops above, And the dark outline of the coast. Already the whole land is white With Convent walls, as if by night A snow had fallen on hill and height! Already from the streets and marts Of town and traffic, and low cares, Men climb the consecrated stairs With weary feet, and bleeding hearts; And leave the world and its delights, Its passions, struggles, and despairs, For contemplation and for prayers In cloister-cells of coenobites.
Eternal benedictions rest Upon thy name, Saint Benedict! Founder of convents in the West, Who built on Mount Cassino's crest In the Land of Labor, thine eagle's nest! May I be found not derelict In aught of faith or godly fear, If I have written, in many a page, The Gospel of the coming age, The Eternal Gospel men shall hear. Oh may I live resembling thee, And die at last as thou hast died; So that hereafter men may see, Within the choir, a form of air, Standing with arms outstretched in prayer, As one that hath been crucified! My work is finished; I am strong In faith and hope and charity; For I have written the things I see, The things that have been and shall be, Conscious of right, nor fearing wrong; Because I am in love with Love, And the sole thing I hate is Hate; For Hate is death; and Love is life, A peace, a splendor from above; And Hate, a never-ending strife, A smoke, a blackness from the abyss Where unclean serpents coil and hiss! Love is the Holy Ghost within Hate the unpardonable sin! Who preaches otherwise than this Betrays his Master with a kiss!
PROLOGUE
Night and storm. LUCIFER, with the Powers of the Air, trying to tear down the Cross.
LUCIFER. Hasten! hasten! O ye spirits! From its station drag the ponderous Cross of iron, that to mock us Is uplifted high in air!
VOICES. Oh, we cannot! For around it All the Saints and Guardian Angels Throng in legions to protect it; They defeat us everywhere!
THE BELLS.Laudo Deum verum!Plebem voco!Congrego clerum!
LUCIFER. Lower! lower! Hover downward! Seize the loud, vociferous bells, and Clashing, clanging to the pavement, Hurl them from their windy tower.
VOICES. All thy thunders Here are harmless! For these bells have been anointed, And baptized with holy water! They defy our utmost power.
THE BELLS.Defunctos ploro!Pestem fugo!Festa decoro!
LUCIFER. Shake the casements! Break the painted Panes, that flame with gold and crimson; Scatter them like leaves of Autumn, Swept away before the blast!
VOICES. Oh, we cannot! The Archangel Michael flames from every window, With the sword of fire that drove us Headlong, out of heaven, aghast!
THE BELLS.Funera plango!Fulgura frango!Sabbata pango!
LUCIFER. Aim your lightnings At the oaken, Massive, iron-studded portals! Sack the house of God, and scatter Wide the ashes of the dead!
VOICES. Oh, we cannot! The Apostles And the Martyrs, wrapped in mantles, Stand as warders at the entrance, Stand as sentinels o'erhead!
THE BELLS.Excito lentos!Dissipo ventos!Paco cruentos!
LUCIFER. Baffled! baffled! Inefficient, Craven spirits! leave this labor Unto time, the great Destroyer! Come away, ere night is gone!
VOICES. Onward! onward! With the night-wind, Over field and farm and forest, Lonely homestead, darksome hamlet, Blighting all we breathe upon!
They sweep away. Organ and Gregorian Chant.
CHOIR. Nocte surgentes Vigilemus omnes!
A chamber in a tower. PRINCE HENRY sitting alone, ill and restless. Midnight.
PRINCE HENRY. I cannot sleep! my fervid brain Calls up the vanished Past again, And throws its misty splendors deep Into the pallid realms of sleep! A breath from that far-distant shore Comes freshening ever more and more, And wafts o'er intervening seas Sweet odors from the Hesperides! A wind, that through the corridor Just stirs the curtain, and no more, And, touching the aolian strings, Faints with the burden that it brings! Come back! ye friendships long departed! That like o'erflowing streamlets started, And now are dwindled, one by one, To stony channels in the sun! Come back! ye friends, whose lives are ended, Come back, with all that light attended, Which seemed to darken and decay When ye arose and went away!
They come, the shapes of joy and woe, The airy crowds of long ago, The dreams and fancies known of yore, That have been, and shall be no more. They change the cloisters of the night Into a garden of delight; They make the dark and dreary hours Open and blossom into flowers! I would not sleep! I love to be Again in their fair company; But ere my lips can bid them stay, They pass and vanish quite away! Alas! our memories may retrace Each circumstance of time and place, Season and scene come back again, And outward things unchanged remain; The rest we cannot reinstate; Ourselves we can not re-create; Nor set our souls to the same key Of the remembered harmony!
Rest! rest! Oh, give me rest and peace! The thought of life that ne'er shall cease Has something in it like despair, A weight I am too weak to bear! Sweeter to this afflicted breast The thought of never-ending rest! Sweeter the undisturbed and deep Tranquillity of endless sleep!
A flash of lightning, out of which LUCIFER appears, in the garb of a travelling Physician.
LUCIFER. All hail, Prince Henry!
PRINCE HENRY, starting.Who is it speaks?Who and what are you?
LUCIFER.One who seeksA moment's audience with the Prince.
PRINCE HENRY. When came you in?
LUCIFER.A moment since.I found your study door unlocked,And thought you answered when I knocked.
PRINCE HENRY. I did not hear you.
LUCIFER.You heard the thunder;It was loud enough to waken the dead.And it is not a matter of special wonderThat, when God is walking overhead,You should not hear my feeble tread.
PRINCE HENRY. What may your wish or purpose be?
LUCIFER. Nothing or everything, as it pleases Your Highness. You behold in me Only a travelling Physician; One of the few who have a mission To cure incurable diseases, Or those that are called so.
PRINCE HENRY.Can you bringThe dead to life?
LUCIFER.Yes; very nearly.And, what is a wiser and better thing,Can keep the living from ever needingSuch an unnatural, strange proceeding,By showing conclusively and clearlyThat death is a stupid blunder merely,And not a necessity of our lives.My being here is accidental;The storm, that against your casement drives,In the little village below waylaid me.And there I heard, with a secret delight,Of your maladies physical and mental,Which neither astonished nor dismayed me.And I hastened hither, though late in the night,To proffer my aid!
PRINCE HENRY, ironically.For this you came!Ah, how can I ever hope to requiteThis honor from one so erudite?
LUCIFER. The honor is mine, or will be when I have cured your disease.
PRINCE HENRY.But not till then.
LUCIFER. What is your illness?
PRINCE HENRY.It has no name.A smouldering, dull, perpetual flame,As in a kiln, burns in my veins,Sending up vapors to the head;My heart has become a dull lagoon,Which a kind of leprosy drinks and drains;I am accounted as one who is dead,And, indeed, I think that I shall be soon.
LUCIFER. And has Gordonius the Divine, In his famous Lily of Medicine,— I see the book lies open before you,— No remedy potent enough to restore you?
PRINCE HENRY. None whatever!
LUCIFER.The dead are dead,And their oracles dumb, when questionedOf the new diseases that human lifeEvolves in its progress, rank and rife.Consult the dead upon things that were,But the living only on things that are.Have you done this, by the applianceAnd aid of doctors?
PRINCE HENRY.Ay, whole schoolsOf doctors, with their learned rules;But the case is quite beyond their science.Even the doctors of SalernSend me back word they can discernNo cure for a malady like this,Save one which in its nature isImpossible and cannot be!
LUCIFER. That sounds oracular!
PRINCE HENRY.Unendurable!
LUCIFER. What is their remedy?
PRINCE HENRY.You shall see;Writ in this scroll is the mystery.
LUCIFER, reading. "Not to be cured, yet not incurable! The only remedy that remains Is the blood that flows from a maiden's veins, Who of her own free will shall die, And give her life as the price of yours!"
That is the strangest of all cures, And one, I think, you will never try; The prescription you may well put by, As something impossible to find Before the world itself shall end! And yet who knows? One cannot say That into some maiden's brain that kind Of madness will not find its way. Meanwhile permit me to recommend, As the matter admits of no delay, My wonderful Catholicon, Of very subtile and magical powers!
PRINCE HENRY. Purge with your nostrums and drugs infernal The spouts and gargoyles of these towers, Not me! My faith is utterly gone In every power but the Power Supernal! Pray tell ne, of what school are you?
LUCIFER. Both of the Old and of the New! The school of Hermes Trismegistus, Who uttered his oracles sublime Before the Olympiads, in the dew Of the early dusk and dawn of time, The reign of dateless old Hephæstus! As northward, from its Nubian springs, The Nile, forever new and old, Among the living and the dead, Its mighty mystic stream has rolled; So, starting from its fountain-head Under the lotus-leaves of Isis, From the dead demigods of eld, Through long unbroken lines of kings Its course the sacred art has held, Unchecked, unchanged by man's devices. This art the Arabian Geber taught, And in alembics, finely wrought, Distilling herbs and flowers, discovered The secret that so long had hovered Upon the misty verge of Truth, The Elixir of Perpetual Youth, Called Alcohol, in the Arab speech! Like him, this wondrous lore I teach!
PRINCE HENRY. What! an adept?
LUCIFFR.Nor less, nor more!
PRINCE HENRY. I am a reader of your books, A lover of that mystic lore! With such a piercing glance it looks Into great Nature's open eye, And sees within it trembling lie The portrait of the Deity! And yet, alas! with all my pains, The secret and the mystery Have baffled and eluded me, Unseen the grand result remains!
LUCIFER, showing a flask. Behold it here! this little flask Contains the wonderful quintessence, The perfect flower and efflorescence, Of all the knowledge man can ask! Hold it up thus against the light!
PRINCE HENRY. How limpid, pure, and crystalline, How quick, and tremulous, and bright The little wavelets dance and shine, As were it the Water of Life in sooth!
LUCIFER. It is! It assuages every pain, Cures all disease, and gives again To age the swift delights of youth. Inhale its fragrance.
PRINCE HENRY.It is sweet.A thousand different odors meetAnd mingle in its rare perfume,Such as the winds of summer waftAt open windows through a room!
LUCIFER. Will you not taste it?
PRINCE HENRY.Will one draughtSuffice?
LUCIFER.If not, you can drink more.
PRINCE HENRY. Into this crystal goblet pour So much as safely I may drink,
LUCIFER, pouring. Let not the quantity alarm you; You may drink all; it will not harm you.
PRINCE HENRY. I am as one who on the brink Of a dark river stands and sees The waters flow, the landscape dim Around him waver, wheel, and swim, And, ere he plunges, stops to think Into what whirlpools he may sink; One moment pauses, and no more, Then madly plunges from the shore! Headlong into the mysteries Of life and death I boldly leap, Nor fear the fateful current's sweep, Nor what in ambush lurks below! For death is better than disease!
An ANGEL with an æolian harp hovers in the air.
ANGEL. Woe! woe! eternal woe! Not only the whispered prayer Of love, But the imprecations of hate, Reverberate For ever and ever through the air Above! This fearful curse Shakes the great universe!
LUCIFER, disappearing. Drink! drink! And thy soul shall sink Down into the dark abyss, Into the infinite abyss, From which no plummet nor rope Ever drew up the silver sand of hope!
PRINCE HENRY, drinking. It is like a draught of fire! Through every vein I feel again The fever of youth, the soft desire; A rapture that is almost pain Throbs in my heart and fills my brain O joy! O joy! I feel The band of steel That so long and heavily has pressed Upon my breast Uplifted, and the malediction Of my affliction Is taken from me, and my weary breast At length finds rest.
THE ANGEL. It is but the rest of the fire, from which the air has been taken! It is but the rest of the sand, when the hour-glass is not shaken! It is but the rest of the tide between the ebb and the flow! It is but the rest of the wind between the flaws that blow! With fiendish laughter, Hereafter, This false physician Will mock thee in thy perdition.
PRINCE HENRY. Speak! speak! Who says that I am ill? I am not ill! I am not weak! The trance, the swoon, the dream, is o'er! I feel the chill of death no more! At length, I stand renewed in all my strength Beneath me I can feel The great earth stagger and reel, As if the feet of a descending God Upon its surface trod, And like a pebble it rolled beneath his heel! This, O brave physician! this Is thy great Palingenesis!
Drinks again.
THE ANGEL. Touch the goblet no more! It will make thy heart sore To its very core! Its perfume is the breath Of the Angel of Death, And the light that within it lies Is the flash of his evil eyes. Beware! Oh, beware! For sickness, sorrow, and care All are there!
PRINCE HENRY, sinking back. O thou voice within my breast! Why entreat me, why upbraid me, When the steadfast tongues of truth And the flattering hopes of youth Have all deceived me and betrayed me? Give me, give me rest, oh rest! Golden visions wave and hover, Golden vapors, waters streaming, Landscapes moving, changing, gleaming! I am like a happy lover, Who illumines life with dreaming! Brave physician! Rare physician! Well hast thou fulfilled thy mission!
His head falls on his book.
THE ANGEL, receding. Alas! alas! Like a vapor the golden vision Shall fade and pass, And thou wilt find in thy heart again Only the blight of pain, And bitter, bitter, bitter contrition!
HUBERT standing by the gateway.
HUBERT. How sad the grand old castle looks! O'erhead, the unmolested rooks Upon the turret's windy top Sit, talking of the farmer's crop Here in the court-yard springs the grass, So few are now the feet that pass; The stately peacocks, bolder grown, Come hopping down the steps of stone, As if the castle were their own; And I, the poor old seneschal, Haunt, like a ghost, the banquet-hall. Alas! the merry guests no more Crowd through the hospitable door; No eyes with youth and passion shine, No cheeks glow redder than the wine; No song, no laugh, no jovial din Of drinking wassail to the pin; But all is silent, sad, and drear, And now the only sounds I hear Are the hoarse rooks upon the walls, And horses stamping in their stalls!
A horn sounds.
What ho! that merry, sudden blast Reminds me of the days long past! And, as of old resounding, grate The heavy hinges of the gate, And, clattering loud, with iron clank, Down goes the sounding bridge of plank, As if it were in haste to greet The pressure of a traveller's feet!
Enter WALTER the Minnesinger.
WALTER. How now, my friend! This looks quite lonely! No banner flying from the walls, No pages and no seneschals, No warders, and one porter only! Is it you, Hubert?