Chapter XVI: Act IV

SCENE.--_Room in MARTHA’S cottage; a couch in recess of window.
Night. A small lamp burning on pedestal table at head of couch._

_Enter LISA from without, meeting MARTHA._

_Mar._ (_anxiously_). Well, hast thou seen the holy Anselm?

_Lisa._ Yes;
Yet but one moment I had been too late.
Old Karl is dying, and the holy man,
Being called in haste to minister to him,
Was on the eve of starting as I came.

_Mar._ (_testily_). Old Karl! Must he needs die this very night!
But thou didst tell the holy man that Gretchen
Was sorely ill, and stood in urgent need
Of his most comfortable ministry?

_Lisa._ Yes, yes. Alas that it should be the truth!
He promised he would come without delay.
How fares our loved one? Is her mind at rest?

_Mar._ Alas, I fear that death draws nigh apace!
There is a strange look in her wondering eyes
That is not of this world--a bright calm light,
As though she saw far, far beyond the grave.
When she is taken, Heaven help the poor!
There’s not an ailing soul for miles around
Who does not bless her ministering hand!

_Lisa._ If the old tale be true, when such as she
Are taken hence to their appointed heaven,
Good angels come to earth to take their place
And finish their good works; and so the poor
Who looked to them are clothed and comforted,
The hungry fed, the sick and dying healed.

_Mar._ Her work is all her own, and would be so
Though Heaven sent the best of all good angels!

[_GRETCHEN appears at door, dressed in white. She is pale and
weak._

_Gret._ Lisa, thy hand!

_Lisa._ Gretchen, what dost thou here?

_Gret._ My heart is sad. I cannot rest in peace.

_Mar._ But thou shouldst not have left thy bed, dear child.
The night is cold.

_Gret._ Alas, it matters little!
The end is near--the tale is nearly told.

_Lisa._ Nay, nay--not yet! not yet! Oh, Gretchen, Gretchen!
While life remains to thee, pray thou for life!
Oh! pray, pray, pray!
For Heaven hears the prayers of such as thou.
Oh, mercy, mercy on my misery!
How shall I live without thy saving love?
How shall I die when thou are gone from me?
Oh! Gretchen, stay with us, oh! stay with us!
As thou, in the rich love of thy great heart,
Didst look in pity on my bygone sin,
Have mercy on the love I live upon,
And pray for life! Oh, Gretchen, pray for life!

_Gret._ Lisa,
I looked in pity on thy bygone sin
In the poor pride of an untempted heart,
As one to whom such sorrow could not come.
I looked upon such unknown sin as thine
As a rich queen might look upon starvation--
In pitying wonder that such things could be.
And now--
God pardon me, as thou wast, so am I!

_Lisa._ But, Gretchen, think of him, he loveth thee!
His heart is all thine own, oh, live for him!
Oh, Gretchen, for his sake, if not for ours!
Remember him--his life’s in thy hands!

_Gret._ Remember him!
Ay, I remember him! Had I the power
To blot him from my aching memory,
Even as I have torn him from my heart,
Then I could die in hope!

_Mar._ Ah! Gretchen, Gretchen,
Pray Heaven thy love _be_ dead!

_Gret._ I have no love.
There is no biding place for earthly love
Within a heart rent with the agony
Of sacrilege, unpardoned, unatoned.
Her minister! her chosen instrument!
And I---- Oh, Heaven, have mercy on my soul!
I knew it not--thou knowest I knew it not!
(_Falls weeping on the couch._)

_Mar._ Who knocks?

_Lisa_ (_opening door_). ’Tis Father Anselm.

_Enter ANSELM, followed by FAUSTUS, who is in a monk’s dress, his
face hidden by his cowl._

_Ans._ _Benedicite!_
Is this the poor sick maid who seeks our aid?
(_To GRETCHEN, who is still sobbing._)
Nay, dry thy tears, my child; however grave
Thy burden, Heaven’s grace will lighten it.
(_To MARTHA._) Old Karl is even at the point of death,
And I must go to him; but take good heart;
This holy father will abide with her
Until I come again. The old man’s house
Is near at hand?

_Mar._ Good father, follow me
And I will lead thee thither.

_Ans._ Be it so.

[_Exeunt ANSELM and MARTHA. Exit LISA by another door. GRETCHEN
weeping at couch._

_Faus._ (_removing his cowl_). Gretchen!

_Gret._ (_starting up amazed_).
_Thou_ here! Oh, Faustus, get thee hence.
Have I not sinned enough, that thou hast come
To fill my dying heart with thoughts of thee?
I am not thine! Go, leave me to myself.

_Faus._ As stands a felon at the judgment-seat,
Bent with the burden of his published shame,
Stand I before thee!

_Gret._ I am not thy judge.

_Faus._ I have been judged, and to my lifelong doom
I bow. Yet by the love of long ago--
By the pure days when yet that love was young,
Shed but one ray of light--one gleam of hope
Upon the darkness of my dungeoned soul!

_Gret._ What wouldst thou with me? Speak, my hour is brief.

_Faus._ Time was when every tongue was eloquent
With legends of thy God-sent charity.
Gretchen,
Of all the starving crowd thy hands have fed,
Never was wretch so famine-worn as I.
Of all the agony thy words have soothed,
Never soothed they such agony as mine!
I come to thee, as others came to thee,
In shame and sorrow--hungry and athirst,
For pity and for pardon.

_Gret._ Oh, Faustus, is it meet that thou and I,
Two trembling sinners, guilty hand in hand,
Should ask each other’s mercy? Who am I
That I should deal in pardons!

_Faus._ (_wildly_). What am I
That I should live unpardoned! Hear my prayer,
And save me from myself. Thy love is dead.
So let it rest--’tis fit that it should die.
I would not raise it from its solemn grave
For all the joy that it would bring to me.
I pray thy pity, Gretchen, not thy love.

_Gret._ Kneel thou to Heaven, and not to such as I;
So shall thy pardon come from that great Source
From which alone can pardon profit thee.
My time is brief--I have to make my peace! [_Exit._

_Faus._ Gone! And with her, my only hope on earth!
Oh, Heaven, send me my death--send me my death,
And all that follows death! Am I to live
With this black blight upon my tortured soul.
Or carry with me into dark old age
The canker of an unforgiven sin?
Curse not the world with my unhallowed life,
Or me, with life on this thy goodly world!
Send me my death, oh Heaven--send me my death!

[_Falls sobbing on table. Door opens, and GOTTFRIED enters, with
sword drawn, and another in his hand. He pauses, advances to
FAUSTUS, strikes him heavily on the shoulder, and puts one
sword on table._

_Gott._ Sleeper, awake! Thine hour or mine hath come!

_Faus._ (_starting and turning round_).
Gottfried!

_Gott._ Ay, Gottfried! Oh, mine enemy!
Arise, destroyer! Thou that layest waste
The flowers of heaven with thy plague-laden blast!
Thou devil-wielded scourge! Thou thief of souls!
Make thine account with God--thy course is run!

_Faus._ Spare thou thy barbèd words for worthier foes.
There is a voice within my tortured heart
To whose anathemas thine utterance
Is but a kindly whisper. Use thy sword!

_Gott._ Then strip thy monkish frock, and take thy guard.
Strip off thy frock, I say--or does it cling
More closely to thy limbs than heretofore?
Time was when thou couldst cast thy slough at will.
Has that time gone? or does thy craven heart
Seek sanctuary in a Churchman’s garb?

[_Involuntarily FAUSTUS grasps sword on table._

Despair thy hope--the rag will serve thee not.
Monk or no monk, as Heaven defends the right,
To-night thou diest! so arm and take thy guard!

_Faus._ (_after a pause throws down sword_).
Gottfried, I’ll fight thee not. Thy cause is just.
I am a blot upon the fruitful world.
Away with me! I have no claim to live!

_Gott._ Defend thy life! Base as thy soul has shown,
I would not be thine executioner;
Yet, by the rood, defence or no defence,
I will fulfil my mission. Take thy sword!
I know no mercy when I war with hell!

_Faus._ (_passionately_).
Strike, Gottfried, strike! In the good days gone by
Thy loving hand was ever on the stretch
To aid me with a hundred offices,
The least of which should knit my heart to thine
As brother’s heart to brother. Crown thy work

_Enter GRETCHEN; she stands horrified._

With this the kindliest of thy kindly deeds! (_Tearing open his gown._)
Comrade in arms--brother in all but blood--
Here is my heart--kill the accursed thing,
It eats my flesh! Strike surely and strike deep!

_Gott._ So be it then! Thine hour has come! Good sword,
That never yet shed undefended blood,
I pray thy pardon for the infamy
I place upon thee!

[_GOTTFRIED is about to strike. GRETCHEN staggers forward and
places herself before FAUSTUS, with her arms extended to
protect him._

_Gret._ Gottfried! stay thy hand,
Or slay me with him! Oh, for shame, for shame!
Is this thy love for me? He is to me
As I to thee, and wouldst thou prove thy love
By slaying him to whom my heart is given?
Gottfried!
I place thy brotherhood upon the test,
And by that test, so shall it stand or fall.
If it be free from the base taint of earth,
As I believe it, from my heart, to be,
It will arise unshaken from the proof.
If it be as the love of other men,
Slay him--and me! (_Kneeling to him._) My brother--oh, my brother!
I know thy love--this is its counterfeit;
I know thy love--thou wouldst lay down thy life
To add one hour to mine. Thou wouldst not rob
The few brief hours that yet are left to me!
Thou seest, I know thy love! Oh, brother, brother,
Be strong in mercy! Is his wrong to thee
Less than his wrong to me?--and I forgive him!
May Heaven have pity on my woman’s heart--
I love this man!

_Gott._ (_after a pause_). Go, sir--I spare thy life.
My heart has lost its vigour, and my hand
Is stayed against thee. Go! thou knowest now
The virtue of her love--its alchemy
Hath made _thee_ sacred in mine eyes! Go, sir,
Amend thy mis-spent life--she loveth thee!
When evil thoughts assail thine impious soul,
Remember that, despite thy wrong to her,
She loveth thee!
If a man’s heart is beating in thy breast,
That amulet should hold thee Satan-proof! [_Exit._

_Faus._ Gretchen, I thank thee for my granted life,
For it hath taught me that, for all my sin,
Thine heart is turned towards me. But for that,
’Twere better I had died by Gottfried’s hand
Than by mine own!

_Gret._ Faustus, thou shalt not die.
Oh, Faustus, Faustus! _I_ am marked for death--
Is not one life enough!

_Faus._ Ay, verily,
So that that life be mine. I must atone!

_Gret._ Thou shalt atone, for thou hast greatly sinned--
Thou shalt atone with worthy deeds lifelong;
Thou shalt atone with steadfast, humbled heart,
With faith, and truth, and works of charity.
Atone with life--with brave and blameless life,
And not with coward death. Resign thyself.

_Enter LISA._

Heaven wills that thou shouldst live--that I should die--
So let us yield ourselves to Heaven’s will!

[_GRETCHEN grows gradually fainter. FAUSTUS leads her to couch._

_Enter MARTHA and ANSELM._

_Mar._ Too late! Oh, Heaven, too late!

_Lisa._ Oh, Gretchen, Gretchen!
Poor loved one--speak to us--one word! one word!
Oh, Heaven, pity us!

_Gret._ Nay, gentle one,
Weep not for Gretchen--three sad months ago
Poor Gretchen died! ’Tis a long time to mourn,
Three months! Nay, Martha, dry thine eyes again,
And deck thyself as for a holiday.
Rejoice with me--
The days of mourning for thy kinswoman
Are past and gone!

_Faus._ Oh, Gretchen--oh, my love--
My heart will break. Gretchen, tell me, at least,
That thou forgivest me!

[_Faint indications of coming daylight are seen through window._

_Gret._ I love thee, Faustus
Ah me! but it is meet that I should die,
For I can turn my head, but not my heart--
And I can close mine eyes, but not my heart--
And still my foolish tongue, but not my heart--
So, Faustus, it is meet that I should die!
Weep not-- [_FAUSTUS rises and turns towards ANSELM._
I go from Death to Life--from Night to Day!
Weep not--my heart is glad, and all my cares
Fold their black wings and creep away abashed,
As shrinks the night before the coming dawn.

[_The lamp at her feet begins to die out. MEPHISTO is seen at
door._

Farewell!
The hand of death is heavy on my heart,
The little lamp of life is dying out.
It matters not--the dreary Night is past,
And Daylight is at hand!

[_She raises her hands towards the rising sun, which is seen
through the window. Her hand falls slowly and she dies, as the
light at her head goes out, and the sky is filled with the
splendour of the coming day. ANSELM, consoling FAUSTUS, raises
his crucifix in the air. MEPHISTO, at door, cowers before
it. During GRETCHEN’S speech, the music of an organ is heard
faintly; it swells into a loud peal as GRETCHEN dies._

TOM COBB;

OR,

FORTUNE’S TOY.

_AN ENTIRELY ORIGINAL FARCICAL COMEDY_, IN THREE ACTS.

_First produced at St. James’s Theatre, under the management of MISS LITTON, on Saturday, 24th April, 1875._

DRAMATIS PERSONÆ.

COLONEL O’FIPP, _an Irish Adventurer_ MR. C. COOPER.
TOM COBB } _Young { MR. ROYCE.
WHIPPLE } Surgeons_ { MR. BRUCE.
MATILDA O’FIPP, _the Colonel’s Daughter_ MISS E. CHALLIS.
MR. EFFINGHAM } { MR. DE VERE.
MRS. EFFINGHAM } _Members of a { MRS. CHIPPENDALE.
BULSTRODE EFFINGHAM } romantic family_ { MR. HILL.
CAROLINE EFFINGHAM } { MISS LITTON.
BIDDY MISS DOYNE.
FOOTMAN MR. RUSSELL.

TOM COBB;

OR,

FORTUNE’S TOY.