ACT FIVE.

(A gust of wind blows out the light in his hand.)

Louis—Perhaps it got blood on it when he fell.Benedict may have washed it off. I thoughtIt might help quiet him. Shall I get it?Abbot— No;You may be right.Louis— Still, if you think—Abbot— You fetch—I'll take the lamp and cup; you fetch the wine.I will have Pierre watch with him to-night.

Louis—Perhaps it got blood on it when he fell.Benedict may have washed it off. I thoughtIt might help quiet him. Shall I get it?

Abbot— No;You may be right.

Louis— Still, if you think—

Abbot— You fetch—I'll take the lamp and cup; you fetch the wine.I will have Pierre watch with him to-night.

(Louis turns back to the window. The Abbot relights hislamp at the little taper in the wall and then goes left.)

Louis—By the way, Father, old Andrew has gone mad.The storm has blown his mind's last spark out. Yes;He tried to take the bracelets from LuigiAnd would have dragged the chest out.Abbot— And did he?Louis— No;But it was all that four of us could doTo hold him. He is on the seas again,And peers abroad and swears he sees great ships—

Louis—By the way, Father, old Andrew has gone mad.The storm has blown his mind's last spark out. Yes;He tried to take the bracelets from LuigiAnd would have dragged the chest out.

Abbot— And did he?

Louis— No;But it was all that four of us could doTo hold him. He is on the seas again,And peers abroad and swears he sees great ships—

(Out in the storm is heard the booming of a bell. Theylisten. Louis crosses himself and mutters.)

Sed libera nos a malo.Father—(The Abbot lifts his hand.)WhatDo you think it means?(A pause.)Abbot— Come to my room.(To himself, as he goes left.) IfThe etherial gods, as the wise poet says,Dwell afar off and in the affairs of menInterfere not, our domes shall rise yet.(Turning.) Louis,Bring the scroll.Louis— Which?Abbot— Lucretius. On the floor.

Sed libera nos a malo.Father—(The Abbot lifts his hand.)WhatDo you think it means?(A pause.)

Abbot— Come to my room.

(To himself, as he goes left.) IfThe etherial gods, as the wise poet says,Dwell afar off and in the affairs of menInterfere not, our domes shall rise yet.(Turning.) Louis,Bring the scroll.

Louis— Which?

Abbot— Lucretius. On the floor.

(In the doorway he stops and listens as for the bell. As hegoes out.) If.

(Louis takes up the parchment which lies upon thefloor near the Abbot's chair and, going to the rear door,shuts it and slides the bolt. He then blows out thetaper in the wall.)

Louis—(Listening.)The witches have their way in heaven to-night.

(He comes to the table and, taking up the flagon, goes out,left.)

SCENE THREE—The court yard of the abbey, as in SceneThree of the Second Act. A storm is heard roaringthrough the mountains, with an occasional rumble ofthunder and in the darkness sudden luster as of lightningfar off. In these flashes, the scene gleams wet as after ahard rain.From the right, comes a faint sound as of a stick tapping onstone, and soon along the side of the dormitory old Andrewappears, carrying a staff with which he is feelinghis way through the darkness.

From the right, comes a faint sound as of a stick tapping onstone, and soon along the side of the dormitory old Andrewappears, carrying a staff with which he is feelinghis way through the darkness.

Andrew—Here a black squall, sou'-wester, south-south-west.Star—star gone! Where's the pole?(Shouting.) Furl the main, lads!On she spins, whirling past world on world. Hip!Feel her—feel her heave! (Shouting.) Take in the mizzen!A thousand thousand fathoms down, the moonShines like a fish.(He peers around the corner.)Black as—Hear the masts crack.Watch Alvinach! Watch for the ninth wave, lads!

(Lightning.)

Put out that broom! You'll have the witches here.Mother, they've burnt the baby!—Hya! Lie down.

(He walks out in the court.)

Here's a night, God bless us! Here's a galeTo make the sea-girls sing. Scylla! Carribee!Shake your dead bones! Shake 'em and sing! Blow, then.Growl, Scylla! Growl, ocean-bitch, bark and growl!Now, Carribee, whirl! Shake the big gulf and slush!Gulp down the worlds with stars and moons and moons!

(Lightning.)

Yip, there they go! Suck 'em down! suck 'em down!Arcturus down! Down Cancer! down the Scales!Whirled into the pit! Weigh the devils, Scales!Weigh the big Serpent! Weigh Beelzebub!Hands ahelm! Ahull, boys! Lash her to the lea!Lash her to the lea! Splinters! Watch out, lads!Saint Telme! Saint Telme! Hold the gunnel there!

(The bell sounds in the chapel tower.)

Who's dead? Who's dead, i' the Devil's name?Fetch me those rings. Now throw him overboard.Scrub these stains, Luigi. Keep the dog back there.This gold will glitter on the Judgment Day.I hear you whispering, scoundrels!—Hya! Lie down.

(He walks back, singing.)

There's wind up in her pitch-black flag;There's foam around her keel.Now we're scudding. Right through the Dipper—

There's wind up in her pitch-black flag;There's foam around her keel.

Now we're scudding. Right through the Dipper—

(Lightning.) Ahoy!

Elmo! Elmo! Light up! light up, man!Argo's to the larboard! Signal her! Ahoy!Ship ahoy, Cap! Ship ahoy! Ship full of gold!She's whirling south! Man the boats! Lay to! lay to!Here's a squall winks at the pirates, lads!Mount her, hardies! Break her hatches! Gold under 'em.

(Singing.)

There's foam up in her pitch-black flag;There's wind around her keel....(Shouting.)Watch Alvinach, though! Keep the lantern dry!

There's foam up in her pitch-black flag;There's wind around her keel....(Shouting.)

Watch Alvinach, though! Keep the lantern dry!

(He stops and listens.)

I hear you whispering, scoundrels!—-Hya! Lie down.Who said so? Louis lied. Stand back, I say!Four on an old man! Dogs! Let go my hair!

(A loud clap of thunder.)

The shrouds break now, God bless us! here's a windWill blow us far off to the PleiadesAnd swamp us.(Lightning.)That was the Bear went by. AndVirgo has sunk here jewels in the south.Sink 'em deep, girl! Pirates abroad.—What's this?

(Calling down.)

Got it, boys? Got the gold? See it, see it shine!Throw your cloak over it. Don't let God see this.Ho, Prester John! sailing among the stars?Here's your chest, John! Here's your sparklers! Where is he?Where is he, boys? Throw the king overboard?Pitched him to Plato on his big fork, eh?Odi Persicos.Like their gold, though. Up,Up with it, lads. Heave, now. Chest broken open.Leak, gold, leak, leak! Here's your spring, Crashus!Here, Jew! here you can cool your tongue!Traders, drink! Drink, worms! Pigs! Pastors! Devils!Drink, drink! Everything drink!(Stooping down.) Here's a dead man's ring.Finger's in the coral. Bracelets and gems.Topaz from Tartary. Emeralds from the East.Garnets. Eh? Garter-buckles!(Reproachfully.)Lads! lads!

(A glare of lightning reveals him with his hand close to hiseyes.)

"From Carlos."Chloe's gone bathing, Carlos. Turned cold nymph.Let go! Let go, I say! Androphanes!Strike him, Juba! Slash him with the broad-sword!You hand that back here, then. Hell-dog.Here's a widow's mite; bought a monk's prayer.Flip it into the sea.Judas! here you are!(Thunder.)Rumble on! Growl and growl! Who cares for Heaven now?Rain or not rain. We can fight, too, old boy.Wipe your lips, Scariot. Take the chamois bag.There's thirty-two. Off with you.—Wallets! Old coin!Rich man, miser, knave! Sick, eh? Quick, your gold!Take it to the priest, then you can jumpRight through the needle's eye.

(He gets down upon his knees.) Well, God bless us!

Sacked the sea-king's coffers. See the pearls!Crescents and ear-bobs. Here's a brooch fine asSparkles on Memnon's sister. What's this clammy thing?Cold, bloody hand! Hand with a locket in it!Unlock it. Ho! picture, eh? Say mamma, baby!Mamma's in the sea-weed. That's a foul deed.Throw your cloak over it. Don't let God see this.

(Calling up.)

Who's there? (Rising.) Who calls Andrew? Stand down on the ground.The lidisoff. (Stooping.) Parchment deeds, eh? I. X.If Andrew's Andrew, then I. X. is eleven.What shines? Silver.(A pause.)Monk's cross.(A pause.)Wet.(Flash of lightning.)Red!(With horror.)Lads! lads!We'll sink for this, God bless us! Pretty muss!Who daubed it? (Thunder.) Hear that. Horror in the darkDoffs his big plume at this. And up there—Here!Wash it! wash it in the sea! In with the chest, lads!Murder like a foam-bird dashed upon the prowShakes her red wings. And there—Look!(Shouting.)Wash it clean!Heaven's golden scales are rising from the deep!Off! lay her—lay her off, lads! They'll weigh us!

(A sharp flash of lightning. Andrew is seen with his lefthand up beside his head, which is drawn down, backingfearfully through the door into the dormitory. Thethunder rumbling in the darkness sounds like the growlof an enormous wild beast.)

SCENE ONE—A street in the village. Low thatched cottages,with deep, wide eaves overhanging the street, standin a dark mass. To the left, a little way from the othersand back a few paces from the street, is a small house, thehome of Jardin. Through a window in the room on theright side comes a faint light as from a low-burning lamp.To the left of the window, one feels that there is a door,though, either on account of intervening bushes or perhapsbecause of a porch that makes it darker there, onedoes not see it. Out in the yard where the light from thewindow falls upon the bushes near the casement, theglistening of the leaves shows that it has been raining.The windows of the other houses, like vacant eyes underdeep brows, are dark, and there are no signs of life anywhere.Over the roofs and through the great trees thatrise up behind them flows a greyness that emphasizes thequiet of the hour. About the street lie several limbs thatwere broken off by the storm during the night.TIME—Sunday morning. Day is just beginning to break.

TIME—Sunday morning. Day is just beginning to break.

A Cry—(Far to the left, full or terror and anguish.)Haro! Haro!(Drawing nearer.)Wake, people! Help, oh, help!

(After a pause.)

Will no one hear? Will no one hear?(Near by.)O men of God! Dear men of God! (A pause.) Oh, run,Run to the mountains, men!

(Pierre enters half on a run, breathless. There is a wildlight in his eyes and his thin frame is shaken with sobs.)

Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh!

(He glances toward the lighted window as though in doubtwhether or not to rouse the inmates of the house. Then,as though to make up even for the moment he has lost,he hurries along the goes out, right.)

People! Christian people!

(The light in the window grows dimmer and suddenly disappears,leaving the house in total darkness.)

Will no one hear?Will no one hear? Wake! Oh, wake!(In the distance.)Haro!Voice—(To the left.)Jules!Second Voice—(Nearer.) Ho?First Voice— Who is it?Second Voice— Some brother.(Jules Bacqueur enters.) Pierre.First Voice— The abbey'sBlown down, perhaps.Hugh Capet—(Entering.) Where are all the people?Jules Bacqueur—At special mass for Jardin.

Will no one hear?Will no one hear? Wake! Oh, wake!(In the distance.)Haro!

Voice—(To the left.)Jules!

Second Voice—(Nearer.) Ho?

First Voice— Who is it?

Second Voice— Some brother.

(Jules Bacqueur enters.) Pierre.

First Voice— The abbey'sBlown down, perhaps.

Hugh Capet—(Entering.) Where are all the people?

Jules Bacqueur—At special mass for Jardin.

(He glances back toward the house where, at that moment,the door opens and the light appears.)

Hugh Capet—(Hurrying on after Pierre.) Come on.Jules Bacqueur— Wait.Let's hear how the Bailiff is.

Hugh Capet—(Hurrying on after Pierre.) Come on.

Jules Bacqueur— Wait.Let's hear how the Bailiff is.

(Hugh Capet returns to the corner of the cottages that areflush with the street and the men look back to wheretwo figures, one after the other, appear in the lighteddoorway of Jardin's house, a man who comes out andan old woman with a white cap on who carries a smalllamp. A little later the door is closed.)

Hugh Capet— Who is it, Jacques?Jules Bacqueur—He spent the night there.Hugh Capet— What a night it was!Just see these limbs.Jules Bacqueur— And there's some fellow's hat.Hugh Capet—The roof's off Pirot's barn, and Lisette—Jules Bacqueur— Here.

Hugh Capet— Who is it, Jacques?

Jules Bacqueur—He spent the night there.

Hugh Capet— What a night it was!Just see these limbs.

Jules Bacqueur— And there's some fellow's hat.

Hugh Capet—The roof's off Pirot's barn, and Lisette—

Jules Bacqueur— Here.

(He comes forward to the edge of the street.)

Hugh Capet—(Following him.)And Lisette found a big bird in her yardWith a broken wing, blown in here miles and miles,From the Holy Land or Joppa or some sea.Jules Bacqueur—(Pointing right.)Look at those yew trees in the church yard there.Bless God, they've pulled up dead mens' skulls.(A pause.)Hugh Capet—And those men there—?Bacqueur— Are filling up the graves.And where's the cross?(A pause.)Hugh Capet— Not on the steeple? Say,That monk—There's something up. When dead men's bonesAre thundered over in the night, and gravesUngorge like that with wind, strange birds, and things—Voice—(Left.)Who is that shouting?Hugh Capet— Don't know.Bacqueur— How's Jardin?Jacques—(Entering.) Eh?Hugh Capet—He didn't hear you.Jacques— What's he shouting for?Bacqueur—The storm tore up the dead last night.Hugh Capet— The abbey'sBlown down, perhaps, or— Come on. Hurry, men.Bacqueur—How is the Bailiff?(Distant thunder.)Hugh Capet—-(Hurrying out right.)Going to have another'n.Jacques—The soldier had a bad night. In his feverHe picks the sheets, mumbling: "Saints, send him down,"And: "Listen, men!" and things like that. And once,Jumps him clean out of bed and cries out: "There!"As he had run the woodman through and through,And wipes his sword like on his pants, and then,As though he felt his wound, falls back and pop!The wind or something blows the light out andWe hear the banshee singing in the storm,Wild—wild. I fear the bell with toll 'fore night.

Hugh Capet—(Following him.)And Lisette found a big bird in her yardWith a broken wing, blown in here miles and miles,From the Holy Land or Joppa or some sea.

Jules Bacqueur—(Pointing right.)Look at those yew trees in the church yard there.Bless God, they've pulled up dead mens' skulls.(A pause.)

Hugh Capet—And those men there—?

Bacqueur— Are filling up the graves.And where's the cross?(A pause.)

Hugh Capet— Not on the steeple? Say,That monk—There's something up. When dead men's bonesAre thundered over in the night, and gravesUngorge like that with wind, strange birds, and things—

Voice—(Left.)Who is that shouting?

Hugh Capet— Don't know.

Bacqueur— How's Jardin?

Jacques—(Entering.) Eh?

Hugh Capet—He didn't hear you.

Jacques— What's he shouting for?

Bacqueur—The storm tore up the dead last night.

Hugh Capet— The abbey'sBlown down, perhaps, or— Come on. Hurry, men.

Bacqueur—How is the Bailiff?(Distant thunder.)

Hugh Capet—-(Hurrying out right.)Going to have another'n.

Jacques—The soldier had a bad night. In his feverHe picks the sheets, mumbling: "Saints, send him down,"And: "Listen, men!" and things like that. And once,Jumps him clean out of bed and cries out: "There!"As he had run the woodman through and through,And wipes his sword like on his pants, and then,As though he felt his wound, falls back and pop!The wind or something blows the light out andWe hear the banshee singing in the storm,Wild—wild. I fear the bell with toll 'fore night.

(They go out.)

SCENE TWO—The open space in front of the church. Inthe corner of the fence, left, the top of the poplar tree,broken off by the wind during the night, hangs out in thestreet almost brushing the ground. To the right of thesteps is a large wooden cross which was blown from thesteeple. It lies sidewise, hazing been split off at the bottom.The gate into the church yard is slightly ajar, asthough some one had lately passed through, and againstthe dark grass the taller of the white grave markers leanas though the wind had been among them. Over the lowfences where one looks back into the church yard on theone side and into an open space on the other, is seen yellowlight from the side windows of the church, pouringout into the gloom. From within, comes the sound of theservice.

Congregation—His spear was lifted over Acre, Lord,And his right arm hath made the heathen quail.Father Benedict—And he hath spread thy glory through the East.Congregation—And he hath spread thy glory through the East.Father Benedict—Let not the flags be draped that fluttered highAbove the strongholds of the Infidel.Congregation—Let not the flags be draped that fluttered highAbove the strongholds of the Infidel.Father Benedict—Let not the scorners from the mountain topsLook down and see the dark procession go;But lift him up and lift up trembling, Lord.Congregation—Let not the scorners from the mountain topsLook down and see the dark procession go;But lift him up and lift up trembling, Lord.Father Benedict—Keep death off, Lord, until the gates of deathReceive the accursed hand that laid him low.Congregation—Keep death off, Lord, until the gates of deathReceive the accursed hand that laid him low.Father Benedict—Let not thine enemies triumph over thee.Thunder it, brethren, so that God may hear.Congregation—Let not thine enemies triumph over thee.Father Benedict—The mountains are afraid of thee, O Lord.Shake their wild tops and shake the heathen down.Congregation—The mountains are afraid of thee, O Lord.Shake their wild tops and shake the heathen down.Father Benedict—So shall thy Church with loud hosannas ring.Congregation—So shall thy Church with loud hosannas ring.Father Benedict—World without end.Congregation— World without end.Father Benedict— Amen.Pierre—(Far to the left.) Haro! haro!

Congregation—His spear was lifted over Acre, Lord,And his right arm hath made the heathen quail.

Father Benedict—And he hath spread thy glory through the East.

Congregation—And he hath spread thy glory through the East.

Father Benedict—Let not the flags be draped that fluttered highAbove the strongholds of the Infidel.

Congregation—Let not the flags be draped that fluttered highAbove the strongholds of the Infidel.

Father Benedict—Let not the scorners from the mountain topsLook down and see the dark procession go;But lift him up and lift up trembling, Lord.

Congregation—Let not the scorners from the mountain topsLook down and see the dark procession go;But lift him up and lift up trembling, Lord.

Father Benedict—Keep death off, Lord, until the gates of deathReceive the accursed hand that laid him low.

Congregation—Keep death off, Lord, until the gates of deathReceive the accursed hand that laid him low.

Father Benedict—Let not thine enemies triumph over thee.Thunder it, brethren, so that God may hear.

Congregation—Let not thine enemies triumph over thee.

Father Benedict—The mountains are afraid of thee, O Lord.Shake their wild tops and shake the heathen down.

Congregation—The mountains are afraid of thee, O Lord.Shake their wild tops and shake the heathen down.

Father Benedict—So shall thy Church with loud hosannas ring.

Congregation—So shall thy Church with loud hosannas ring.

Father Benedict—World without end.

Congregation— World without end.

Father Benedict— Amen.

Pierre—(Far to the left.) Haro! haro!

Father Benedict—Accept, O eternal Father, the offering that is here made to Thee by Thy minister, in the nameof us all here present. It is as yet only bread and wine, but by a miracle of Thy power and grace will shortly become the body and blood—Pierre—(Drawing nearer.) Help, help! Oh, help!Father Benedict—(After a pause, as though he had heard the cry.)—the body and blood of Thy beloved Son. He is our high priest and He is our victim. By Him and—

Pierre—(Drawing nearer.) Help, help! Oh, help!

Father Benedict—(After a pause, as though he had heard the cry.)

—the body and blood of Thy beloved Son. He is our high priest and He is our victim. By Him and—

Pierre—O men of God! Dear men of God!

(There is a hush in the church.)

Willyou not help?Willyou not—

(He enters with his hands to his head, fearful lest he hasdisturbed the service.)

Father Benedict—(Resuming.)He is our high priest and He is our victim.

(Pierre throws himself down upon the steps, sobbing.)

By Him and throughHim, we desire to approach—Sit down, men!(A pause.)Women! Men! Sit down!

(The noise in the church increases.)

A Voice— Sit down, brethren!Don't desecrate the Lord's house!Father Benedict—(Shouting.) You hear me?A Woman's Voice—Husband!Father Benedict—(Enraged.) Malediction!

A Voice— Sit down, brethren!Don't desecrate the Lord's house!

Father Benedict—(Shouting.) You hear me?

A Woman's Voice—Husband!

Father Benedict—(Enraged.) Malediction!

(The church door is jerked open, and the people come pouringout with anxious faces lest something terrible hashappened. Back in the church, above the heads of thepeople, is seen the altar ablaze with lights, and highbehind it a colossal cross with a beautiful carven Christupon it. The wound in the side shows red and over thethorn-crowned brow is an arch bearing in golden lettersthe inscription: FORGIVE THEM FOR THEYKNOW NOT WHAT THEY—The DO has neverbeen put on.)

Pierre—(Staggering up from the steps.)Run, run to the mountains, men!Quick! quick!They're dragging him off! They're dragging him off!O run, run, run, run, run!Cries—What—where—who is it?Pierre—Yonder! yonder!Oh, get torches,Get torches and runAnd kindle fires on the mountain topsSo he may see his way!No, that won't help! Oh, that won't help!But he can hear, though!Call, call to him!Search all the places where the blind may be!Run shouting "Oswald! Oswald!" through the woods!Find him, oh, find him before Satan comes!Before the storm breaks!They'll track him by the blood drops!They'll tear his body on the mountains!O men, dear men—(A clap of thunder. Pierre dodges.)What—what was that?Oh, God said something! God said something!

Pierre—(Staggering up from the steps.)Run, run to the mountains, men!Quick! quick!They're dragging him off! They're dragging him off!O run, run, run, run, run!

Cries—What—where—who is it?

Pierre—Yonder! yonder!Oh, get torches,Get torches and runAnd kindle fires on the mountain topsSo he may see his way!No, that won't help! Oh, that won't help!But he can hear, though!Call, call to him!Search all the places where the blind may be!Run shouting "Oswald! Oswald!" through the woods!Find him, oh, find him before Satan comes!Before the storm breaks!They'll track him by the blood drops!They'll tear his body on the mountains!O men, dear men—(A clap of thunder. Pierre dodges.)What—what was that?Oh, God said something! God said something!

(Pointing up at the sky.)

He knows! He knows!Lord Jesus knows that it was not his fault!And He will pay—oh, He will bless you, men!Do, do, do run!Father Benedict—Make way!Pierre—O Father! Father!

He knows! He knows!Lord Jesus knows that it was not his fault!And He will pay—oh, He will bless you, men!Do, do, do run!

Father Benedict—Make way!

Pierre—O Father! Father!

(In his snow-white chasuble, the priest appears pushing hisway through the throng about the door. In his handhe has a silver communion plate with the bread upon it.)

Father Benedict—Why all this clamor?This is the Sabbath and the hour of mass.Pierre—It's done! It's done!Father Benedict—(Descending the steps.)How dare you cry out on this holy morn?Pierre—Oh, last night, Father, last night in the darkWhite angels, oh, white angels in the storm—Ittore their wings and blew them from the sky,And then—and then—O father, then the fiends—Hesaw them in the stones and—screamed and—Oh,They did a deed of horror in the dark!

Father Benedict—Why all this clamor?This is the Sabbath and the hour of mass.

Pierre—It's done! It's done!

Father Benedict—(Descending the steps.)How dare you cry out on this holy morn?

Pierre—Oh, last night, Father, last night in the darkWhite angels, oh, white angels in the storm—Ittore their wings and blew them from the sky,And then—and then—O father, then the fiends—Hesaw them in the stones and—screamed and—Oh,They did a deed of horror in the dark!

(He presses hishands into his eyes as if to shut out the sight of it.)

Oh! Oh! Oh!Father Benedict—What is this?Pierre—(Bending up and down.)Oh! Oh! Oh!Father Benedict—Pierre!(A pause.)Pierre, if Hell hath doneSome wild deed in the night, be sure that GodWill right it.Pierre—Will He, oh, will He, Father, make him to see—See the blue sky again?Father Benedict—Who is it Hell hath blinded in the night?Pierre—(With his hands to his eyes, sobbing.)Brother—brother—Father Benedict—Pierre!Pierre—O, Oswald! Oswald!

Oh! Oh! Oh!

Father Benedict—What is this?

Pierre—(Bending up and down.)Oh! Oh! Oh!

Father Benedict—Pierre!(A pause.)Pierre, if Hell hath doneSome wild deed in the night, be sure that GodWill right it.

Pierre—Will He, oh, will He, Father, make him to see—See the blue sky again?

Father Benedict—Who is it Hell hath blinded in the night?

Pierre—(With his hands to his eyes, sobbing.)Brother—brother—

Father Benedict—Pierre!

Pierre—O, Oswald! Oswald!

(With a cry, Madam Bacqueur falls fainting upon the steps.The women about her take her child from her arms andsupport her back into the church. The crowd standssilent.)

Pierre—(Bending up and down.)Say something! say something!Father Benedict—(Almost overcome.)Can this be true? Can this be true, Pierre?Pierre—Oh! Oh! Oh!Father Benedict—Swift fly the avenging angels from the Throne.Guilt like a red cloud passes from the sky,And day looks in and sees where eyes have been.Pierre—(As though his heart would break.)Brother! brother! brother!Father Benedict—Praise be to God!The tempest shaketh showers upon the grass;The storm wind cooleth the low violet;But the proud pine I shatter, saith the Lord.He shall go down and toss his boughs in hell.The coffin-worm shall slime him. He shall notMock me upon the mountains, saith the Lord.Praise be to God!

Pierre—(Bending up and down.)Say something! say something!

Father Benedict—(Almost overcome.)Can this be true? Can this be true, Pierre?

Pierre—Oh! Oh! Oh!

Father Benedict—Swift fly the avenging angels from the Throne.Guilt like a red cloud passes from the sky,And day looks in and sees where eyes have been.

Pierre—(As though his heart would break.)Brother! brother! brother!

Father Benedict—Praise be to God!The tempest shaketh showers upon the grass;The storm wind cooleth the low violet;But the proud pine I shatter, saith the Lord.He shall go down and toss his boughs in hell.The coffin-worm shall slime him. He shall notMock me upon the mountains, saith the Lord.Praise be to God!

(Pierre glances up at the priest and then, as from somethinginfernal, falls flat and hides his face against theground.)

The lights are out in Babylon the Proud,And the Lord God in blackness sitteth thereAmong the ruins, dealing judgment.

(The rising wind blows shut the door of the church andleaves the scene enveloped in the half-light of earlymorning.)

My scales are hung in heaven, saith the Lord.I weigh them in the darkness of the night.They balance with the Dragon on one side.Glory be to God in the highest!

(Shouting off demoniacally in the direction of the abbey.)

Lift up thy head, O Lucifer, in hell,And see what God hath written on the skyIn letters that burn through thy broken panes.

(With his finger as though tracing the letters.)

"Weighed and found wanting!I am the Lord God.In Me the moon goes down; in Me the sunRises; I am the night and day.If over any man a light break forthAnd make his brow bright, let him not thinkIt shines for him alone, and be puffed upBecause of it, and speakBitterly, saying: 'See what pure prayers can do.'For when his lungs are empty, saith the Lord,Then I will give him flesh unto the dogs.I will put out the light that kindles pride,Saith the Lord God, and with the light the eyes."(In a wild chant.)Praise be to God who doeth all things well.Shinar hath seen the glory of the Lord.Nimrod, who piled up Babel to the stars,Lies sprawling under it, and the thunders laugh.

(Shouting in the direction of the abbey.)

Who lieth under Babel?—Up, Pierre;I have a message. Rise, for youMust bear it to your sainted abbot.

(Pierre rises and, with his head thrown back and his handscovering his face, without waiting, goes straight out,left.)

"Benedict to his brother in Christ,Greeting:Who lieth under Babel? You were rightIn saying that the storm would shake the world.It hath indeed played havoc. Certain treesIn the churchyard tore the graves up, and the deadHave shaken roofs and spires in the town.We lost our cross.I hear you, too, lost somewhat. Gables thoughCan be repaired.We should both thank our Lord he hath not letA lamb he careth for be scathed.Who lieth under Babel?"

(Coming out in the street and shouting after Pierre.)

And to the brother, the dear ward of God,Convey felicitations!Ask him toTell you the color of the abbot's hairThis morning.Wake him!Say:"The stars are flying in and out the clouds;The mountain tops are tinging;Night passes;Rouse up, and behold the DawnPouring her beautiful gold upon the world!"Tell him toRun down and see the print the bishop JohnSent me from Rome.Blind Samson's head, who pulled the pillars down,Under a dog's paws in the Gaza streets.And in his car, as a salutation for the Sabbath,Bark this from Benedict, from Benedict, the dog:"Pride is a wind that from the shores of lightBloweth far off where neither sun nor moonNor stars shine nor shall shine forevermore."God hath heard one prayer. Come in, men.

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