Chapter VI: Act FOUR

_SCENE ONE--In the cavern, as in Scene two of the second act.
The spinning wheel stands against the wall and above it
from a peg hangs a heavy skein of black wool. The baskets
lie upon the floor. To the right of the low fire, a heap
of chips, pine cones, and broken limbs. The cave is quite
dark._

_From the left the gnomes enter stealthily, one after another._

_TIME--The same night._

KILO--(_Huskily._) Gone.

ZIP--(_Calling back._) Gone.

VOICE--(_To the left._) She's gone.

(_Gimel enters and, after him, Suk. Kilo crosses
the cave and stands listening._)

ZIP--(_Stopping._) What is it?

(_Gimel puts out his hand, palm back, warningly.
Suk stops. Suddenly, to the left, a sound of
whistling is heard._)

SUK-- (_Huskily, to silence him._) Zory! (_The whistling stops._)

KILO-- (_Turning back._)
It's a frog booming on the river bank.

GIMEL--The villagers should hear it they would squeal:
"Ave! Ave!" and hurry to the church
And take their pennies to the Priest. Curse them!

(_While the rest snoop about the cave in search
of food, Kilo puts some kindling upon the
fire, and getting down upon his knees, blows
it into a flame. He then stretches himself
out upon the floor, and proping his head upon_
_his elbow, begins to poke in the ashes with a
stick._)

KILO--Gimel, you're mad because your monk's alive.

(_Zip goes out right on tiptoe._)

SUK--I wonder if Granny knows we killed the bat?

GIMEL--I haven't had a bite since.

SUK-- Yesterday
I found a cricket down among the stones
Still numb with winter's cold.

GIMEL--(_Fearfully._) What is it, Zip?

KILO-- (_Nonchalantly._)
Gimel, if the monk was sleeping there
On Granny's couch and you had Loki's sledge,
Think you could kill him?

SUK-- Sh!

(_Kilo sits up._)

GIMEL-- Zip, what is it?

ZIP-- (_Re-entering._)
It's going to storm. The clouds are scudding fast
And thick and dark, brushing the mountain tops.

SUK--She gets the owl, she'll be here.

(_Kilo lies down. The other gnomes, as if fearing
the entrance of the witch, walk, left._)

SUK-- Better get up.

ZIP--She'll flog you, Kilo, if she finds you there.

KILO--I'll play I'm Sigurd.

ZIP-- Then she'll drub you sure.
You see these baskets here? To-night at dusk
The boy crept tiptoe to the entrance there
And threw them in. I holloed at him: "Hey!
You'd better run! Granny's been looking for you."

(_Kilo rakes a coal from the fire and blows the
ashes from it._)

KILO--You say the wind's up, Zip?

ZIP-- It's going to storm.

SUK-- (_Looking among the dry herbs._)
There's not a leaf of Odin's helmet here.

KILO--Gimel! (_He blows the coal._)

GIMEL-- (_To Suk._)
She's taken it with her. She knew
If we should get out in the air--

KILO-- Come here.

GIMEL--She'd never see us in this cave again.

VOICE-- (_To the left, in a monotone._)
A rat and a cat and a cat and a mouse.

SUK--I wonder when she's going to make us broth.

GIMEL--She said we'd be as thin as chestnut leaves
Before she put the cauldron on again.

SUK--How can we toil when fire won't burn,
When Loki's hammers are soft as lead,
When her charms all fail wherever we turn,
When blight won't gather and murrain won't spread?
How can we toil when there's not a Nix
But turns to stone at a crucifix?

(_From the left, Zory enters._)

ZIP--What are you chewing, Zory?

ZORY-- Slippery elm.

GIMEL--She's scared herself at the pesky thing.
Often as here by the coals she's sat
Crunching her pignuts and stroking her cat,
Many a time I've heard her say
That Thor's arm shriveled that April day
When out of a cloud in a thunder shower
He threw his bolt at the tall gray tower.
It shivered a poplar tree near by.
The church stood sound with its cursed crest,
While the god went bellowing down the sky,
Clutching his shoulder in terrible pain.
Now he rides to the east and he rides to the west--So
Granny says--and he's never seen
Lashing his goats through the driving rain.
Dark and fireless the clouds drift round;
Their waters fall without any sound.
It's Hoder that drives them now, I ween.

ZORY-- (_Leaving the herbs._)
She'd left a slip of the Devil's herb,

(_Skipping to the right._)

You'd see me sweeping along the sky;
I'd straddle the moon and ride her down.

ZIP--Be quiet, Zory.--You'd better not. You hear?

(_Zory goes out._)

SUK--The fairies too are bolder now.
Every hour you can hear them call
From forest and bracken and water-fall.
Even at midday, when I've been clearing
Ore from the mountains and stood a peering
Through cracks in the cliff, I have seen them at play
Catching the drops of silvery spray,
Running with emeralds and amethysts
To the stones where the purple iris rests.
With hands to their mouths, from the mossy ledge,
They boom to the bittern far down in the sedge
On the river bank. They are in the air.
Woodland and water--everywhere.

GIMEL--And there's not a place even down in the ground,
No matter how dark, but that elves are found
Whispering and prying, their little eyes
Darting and glancing like fireflies.

SUK--They say that's the cause of Loki's fright.

ZIP--And well it might be, if this tale is true.
Sleeping he lay on the ground one night--
He had guzzled his fill of Granny's brew--
When, thinking he heard his bellows blow,
He opened his eyes and spied the glow
Of flames on his forge, the sparks a leaping,
And a score of elves---they thought him sleeping--
On trough and anvil and on the ground
Clapping their hands as they fell around.
Then he stirred, when lo! there was not a spark;
The bellows was still, the stithy was dark.

KILO-- (_Rising quickly to a sitting posture._)
The tale is as true as the master's steel.
Here on the stones I lay that night,
Curled like a cat in the fire-light,
While there by the wall with a whirring sound
Granny's old spinning wheel went round.
It whirred and it whirred so I could not sleep,
So I lay and yawned and began to peep
And nudge the fire, for the night was cool.
Around the big wheel the wether's wool
Ran black, the dame's foot under her skirt
Paddling the pedal for Sigurd's shirt.
The wheel stopped a moment, and during the hush
I had dropped to a doze, when there came a rush
Of the coldest air that ever warped skin,
And Loki, frightened, dashed up and in
From the rift in the rocks. (_He rises to one knee._)
His face was white
And the smut upon it showed black as night
And his limbs were so weak that he almost fell.
When he got his breath he began to tell
How, roused from his sleep by a noise in his shop--
Then Granny spied me and nudged him to stop,
And the two went out. I leaped to the ledge
And peered through the crack. Far up on the edge
Of the cliff where the hazel bushes grow,
The pines were glossing; the gnomes, I trow,
Were choking the caves to get in the ground
And hide in the dark lest they should be found
When Balder should roll his bright wheel on high.
Already his lances waved in the sky
Bedabbled with blood. The heavens were pale
And the peaks were bright with his burning mail.
I lost not a trice. As quick as a wink
I rushed to the roots and out through the chink
With the Devil's herb I followed the pair.
Darting invisible through the air,
I squatted toad-like on the turf and heard
Them babble their plans, heard every word,
Heard Granny wheeze and the master say--As
they rose from the rock and turned away--"We
must nag on the gnomes or the cross will rise.
They must take the monk's life or put out his--"

ZORY--(_Rushing in._) Look out!

(_He dashes out, left, followed by the other
gnomes. From the right, the witch enters. In
her right hand she holds a big black owl by
the wing; in her left, a large club. She is
tall, raw-boned, and weasened. Her hair is of
a stringy gray, and a skein of it hangs upon
her cheek. Her breath comes short, and there
is a wheeze in her voice._)

WITCH--What's this? Burning my wood? (_Shouting._)
Sigurd! Ay, ay!
You'd better hide, you lazy, crooked dwarf.
You'll pay for this.

(_She throws the owl down, and taking the sticks
from the fire, beats the flames out upon the
floor._)

You'll pay for this, I say.
You'll gladly sleep upon the coldest stones,
But you'll not close an eye. You'll moan all night,
Dragging your red-puffed soles across the floor,
And beg the gnomes for snow. I'll teach you how
To burn my kindling up. Here I must trudge
Up to the blasted cliffs day after day,
Strip bark, drag brush, break limbs, and gather cones
Among the pines, the bait of all the winds,
And barely get enough to heat my brew,
And here you'll lie roasting your wretched bones.
I'll warm your cursed shanks. I'll put your feet
To blister on the red-hot coals again
And flog you limping up the rocks for wood.

(_Hanging up the baskets._)

Let the monks take the geese. They're out there now
Flapping their wings and gaggling at the moon
To call the Christians down. You'll keep their necks!
You'll swear by father Thor you fetched them up
And penned them in the lot. I'll beat you, though;
I'll whale you with these rods until you're sore.

(_She piles her wood against the wall._)

Let the monks steal the geese. You'll gather wood.
You'll find it scarce, I vow. There's not a day
You're by the stream. You're up among the crags,
Beating the eagles from the new-dropped kids.
You feed the woodman's ewes. You hunt the hills
For sorrel-grass to see the lambkins eat.
You never drain an udder for my sop,
Or bring me honey from the gum. Sneezeweed
You never dig or nightshade from the marsh.
You play among the logs. My nuts and corn
You steal to feed the striped chipmunks with.
All day you're in the wood or on the slope,
Listening to hear the noisy Christian bells.
You love the damned sound. You love the monks.
You fetch them pine knots from the big green ridge
To singe the gnomes and light their altar fires.
You've learned to fumble buckeyes on your breast.
I'll teach you how to pray. Ay, ay! You hear?
I'll weave my dwarf a cowl. Ha, ha! You hear?
Sigurd! I'll get you in the morning.

(_A rumble of thunder._)

Eh?

(_Thunder again._)

Ay, ay, Thor! I'll have them there!

(_Shouting._)

Gnomes! Gnomes!
Zip! Gimel! Kilo! Lazy broth-suckers!
Here's work for you, you knaves!
Work and broth!
(_Louder._) Broth, I said! You hear?
Zory, you scamp!

(_Feeling about her dress._)

Hear what I say?
Kilo! Suk! Gimel! Here's broth for you!

(_In an underbreath._)

If you'll work.
You don't, I'll lamn you, you toads.

(_Shouting._)

You hear?
Ay, peak about! peak about!
Thor wants you.

(_The gnomes enter timidly, half-afraid._)

SUK-- (_Whimpering._)
I'm hungry.

WITCH--Hungry!
Out in the air with you, then!
Suck the lightning's dugs! Guzzle in the rain!

(_Low muttering thunder._)

Hear that? Can you? Can you bark?
Ay, ay, Thor!

(_As the thunder dies away, the gnomes rush wildly
toward the witch._)

Ay, here's your herb!
Out with you now, every last one of you!

ZIP-- (_Giving him a leaf._)
Up with you! (_Zip disappears._)
Kilo! There you go!

(_Kilo disappears._)

Now Suk! Now Gimel! Now you can get him!

(_The gnomes, taking the slips, disappear._)

Ay, ay! Chase the monk! Crack the big bells!
Pluck up the pines and knock the steeples down!

ZORY-- (_Rushing in._)
Me too, Granny!

WITCH--Ay, you scamp! (_Giving him a leaf._)
Bark now!
Skedaddle in the air!

ZORY--I'll straddle the moon and--

(_He disappears._)

WITCH-- There you go!
Ay, straddle her! Ride her through the clouds!
There they are, Thor.
Now for my dwarf. (_Picking up her club._)
I'll bruise him a little. (_Shouting._)
Sigurd!
I'll get you. (_She goes out, left._)

_SCENE TWO--The scriptorium in the dormitory of the abbey._
_The walls are of stone. In the left wall, near the_
_corner, a door opens into a hall that leads thence to the_
_courtyard. Near it, forward, an enormous chest with metal
trimmings and handles of embossed stags' heads, the antlers
gradually disappearing into the panel. Upon the chest, as
though thrown there carelessly, lies a heavy cloak. About
ten feet from the door, against the rear wall, stands a
small priedieu covered with a rich altar-cloth interwoven
with the figure--seen in old arras--of St. Giles sitting
upon a rock with the deer resting its head in his lap.
Behind the deer is a clump of brambles. The kneeling piece,
which projects from under the folds of the altar-cloth,
is of dark wood highly polished. Upon it is a scarlet
cushion. A little above the priedieu, in a semicircular
niche in the wall, is set a bronze crucifix some ten inches
in height. Before it burns a small taper. Farther to the
right, a second door leading into a corridor which connects
with the sleeping apartments. Between this door and the
priedieu are shelves filled with books and old manuscripts.
Beyond the door, which swings in and is partly open, an
old buckler hangs upon the wall, and beneath it, upon two
iron spikes, a long spear. Between the spear and buckler
is fixed a parchment cut mitriform and bearing in large
illumined letters the inscriptions_ HUGH DE BUILLON CUM DEO
ET CUM GODEFRIDO NICAEIS ANTIOCHIIS HIEROSOLYMIS MIL NONAG
SEPT OCT NOV. _Farther to the right, in the corner, a
Saracen coat-of-mail filled with spears which, converging
center and spread out above and below, look like a sheaf
of steel. Across the breast of the coat-of-mail is a strip
of parchment with the inscription illumined as before_: A
MOHAMED FILIO SATAN CHRISTO FILIO DEI. _In the right wall are
apertures of two deep-set windows, near which are three
carrels, each with an old manuscript spread out upon it
and ink-pots and other copying and illuminating materials.
Hanging beside them are finger rags smeared with various
colored stains. On one of the carrels lies a sprig of
flowering mountain laurel. Near the center of the room, a
few feet to the right, stands a long table running parallel
with the side walls. It is overstrewn with old manuscripts,
some of them discolored and half unrolled; others, near
the forward end, piled in the form of a miniature pyramid.
Farther back, a small brass lamp, pitcher-shaped and with a
wick protruding from its spout, burns with a yellow flame.
The room is but dimly lighted, as a large room would be,
with a single lamp burning upon the table and a little
taper winking in the niche in the wall._

_To the right of the table, in a square, high-backed chair
with animal-feet, sits the Abbot in a black gown,
bareheaded. His feet, which are under the table, are cased
in slippers of sheep-skin with the white fleece still upon
it. From his right hand, which hangs beside his chair, a
scroll of parchment trails upon the floor. Farther back,
upon the opposite side of the table, stands the Priest, his
left hand resting upon the back of a chair the front legs
of which are raised a few inches from the floor. At the
further end of the table Oswald is standing with his finger
wiping away the tears that trinkle down his cheeks._

_Thunder is heard intermittently, and from time to time the_
_windows are shaken by the violence of the wind._

FATHER BENEDICT-- (_White with wrath, turning to the Abbot._)
Endorse this, Father?

OSWALD-- Father, I did not say it.

ABBOT--_Ira_, Benedict, _altis urbibus_
_Causa cur perirent_. Let him explain.

FATHER BENEDICT--I say, do you endorse this?

OSWALD-- I did not say it.

ABBOT--I endorse nothing till I hear both sides.

FATHER BENEDICT--I gave you both sides.

ABBOT-- Sit down, Benedict.

FATHER BENEDICT--You think I'd sit down with these things
spread here, (_With a wave toward the manuscripts._)
And Christ thrust yonder in the little niche?
Not while I have in mind the first Psalm.

ABBOT-- Yet
You seem to have forgotten what #agapaƓ# means,
As found in that third chapter of St. John.

(_He lays his parchment upon the table and reaches
over and takes a book from the pile at his
right._)

FATHER BENEDICT--Not while I have in mind the first Psalm.

ABBOT-- (_Turning over the leaves of the book._)
If
You thought more of the Gospels--

FATHER BENEDICT---(_Sarcastically._) As heathens do.

ABBOT--What is it to be a heathen? Is it not
To act unchristlike?

FATHER BENEDICT-- What is it to be a dog?

OSWALD--I did not say that Father was a--

FATHER BENEDICT-- What!
Just now you did confess--

OSWALD-- I said you spoke--
_Spoke_ as hunters--

FATHER BENEDICT--_That's a lie!_

ABBOT-- Benedict!
Be circumspect, lest in your anger you
Bay at him and turn that which you do scorn.

FATHER BENEDICT--I scorn the imputation which his pride
Popped at me. As though all the saints in heaven
Bowed down to him because the other night--

(_Turning away._)

Oh, but God hates the proud man!

ABBOT-- And, therefore,
Wisdom doth bid you keep an open ear
And leave the scroll of judgment still unsealed.
For how shall Mercy find the iron leaf?
Will Heaven's book be open if we close
Ours? When men cry to us, if we shut our ears,
We shut out Heaven's whispers. Oh, nothing--Of
all the deeds men do that vex the sky--Nothing
so rankles in the heart of God
As to see lips, fresh come from prayer for grace,
Refusing justice.

(_The Priest has walked forward at an angle from
the table and stands with his back to the
Abbot. Reaching under his gown, he draws a
dark string across his breast and begins,
seemingly, to untie a knot. The Abbot regards_
_him in silence._)

Will you hear him?

FATHER BENEDICT--(_Gruffly._) Go on.

ABBOT--No, Benedict; do it dispassionately.
You say God hates the proud. So he does. Yet
Wrath is more perilous to a man than pride.
For while pride turns a man's face to the sky,
'Tis wrath that shoves him where the thunders fall.

FATHER BENEDICT-- (_Under his breath._)
I'll drop some thunder on you.

ABBOT-- Now, my son,
Speak as though angels heard you. 'Tis almost
Midnight, and the Sabbath draweth nigh.

OSWALD-- (_To the Priest._)
Father.

ABBOT--Do you hear?--He shuts his ears. Proceed.
Remembering that truth is God's own bread.
He hungers for it.

OSWALD-- Oh, I have not lied!
I did not say that Father was a dog.

ABBOT--I know you have not, Oswald. The three years
That you have been here never have been stained
With pride and falsehood. Those that now malign,
God knows where they shall go when the end comes.

OSWALD--I will explain just how it came about.
Then, if you think I have done Father wrong,
Tell me and let me do penance for it. I--
I will not be here long.

ABBOT-- My son!

OSWALD-- I feel
The darkness gathering round me.

ABBOT-- Don't say that.
You will be well again. You will be strong
Some day, my son, and many years shall pass
Ere the Lord calls you. Hath he not given proof?
A shepherd to you, surely God hath been.
Three nights ago at this time, where were you?
Lying down in the gorge, and the night wind
Passed and you knew it not. But God watched there,
And sent his servant--for all things serve Him--And
here you are safe in the fold again.
That deed unclasped a volume of bright days.
God doth not put his hand forth and lift up
As he hath lifted you, and then cast down
Ere the knees be straightened. Your tears should fall
For joy, my son, not sorrow. Think how near
Your foot was to the gates of darkness when
God turned your face around and there flashed out
A jeweled finger pointing toward a dawn--Far
off it may be or it may be near--When
the last shred of darkness shall vanish.
Let those that hound you, fear, for God shall cleave
A chasm in the earth for them; but you--No,
no, my son, not darkness, light. God's light
And glory from the new Jerusalem
Will shine upon you on the mountain tops,
If dreams are tapers lighting what is to be,
As some believe they are.

(_The Priest reaches under his gown and takes
something in his right hand, and with the
other draws the string from around his neck
and drops it into his right hand, after which
he pulls the sleeve down over it till only the_
_knuckles are visible._)

Therefore, my son,
Lift up your face and let white words go forth
And usher in the Sabbath. Truth in the heart
Is fire under water, but on the lips
It lighteth every man the Way of Life.

(_The Priest goes toward the chest near the door._)

Benedict, will you do as Pilate did?

FATHER BENEDICT--Is he the Lord?

ABBOT-- He is--

FATHER BENEDICT-- Then who are you?

ABBOT--He is a child of our Lord's.

FATHER BENEDICT-- So am I.

ABBOT--So you are, Benedict, a full grown child.

FATHER BENEDICT--Even if I don't pray here

(_With a disdainful motion toward the priedieu._)

ABBOT-- A full grown child;
Large enough, one would think, to have slain the wolf
Of hate in you.

(_The Priest takes up the cloak from the chest and
begins to put it on._)

Is it the truth you fear? (_A pause._)
You dare to go out under the open sky
With hatred in your heart, a night like this? (_A pause._)
If you go now I know the reason why.
You fear to lay your heart down here and let
The light shine on it with Oswald's, side by side.

OSWALD-- (_To the Abbot._)
Father--

FATHER BENEDICT-- (_Over his shoulder._)
Call a dog Father?

ABBOT-- Benedict,
Exasperating beyond word in this
Conduct of yours. You come up here as one
Whose honor has been wounded, and you throw
Your charge down and when Oswald takes it up
To answer it, you will not hear him, but
You slink away. A travesty on man
Is he who has but one ear, and that filled
With his own voice. (_Rising._)
But I will settle this.

(_Lifting his hand._)

My son, I now absolve you from all--

FATHER BENEDICT-- (_Turning quickly._)
Hold!

(_He pulls his cloak around so as to hide his right
hand, then comes forward._)

Your haste to wash his heart is evidence--

ABBOT--You tacitly admit your charge is false
By the eagerness--

FATHER BENEDICT--What are you talking of?

ABBOT--Your eagerness to get out in the dark.

FATHER BENEDICT--Who said that I was going?

(_To Oswald._)

Now then, you
Lay your heart down under the lamplight here,
And I will show a hunch-backed devil in it.

ABBOT--Tell us, my son, just how it came about.
Let truth spring out upon the table armed.

(_He resumes his seat._)

OSWALD--When Father spoke this morning of a chase,
A stag pursued by hounds and things like that,
I simply said that--

FATHER BENEDICT--"_Simply_ said!"

OSWALD-- I said--

FATHER BENEDICT--I was one of the hounds, the talbot hound
That led the pack.

OSWALD-- Why, Father!

FATHER BENEDICT-- (_Advancing toward him._)
You say that
A second time, and by the--

ABBOT-- Benedict!
Sprinkled with eyes, a wheel of God's own car
Attends our brother. You would best beware.
You know God hath him circled round about
With that that shall uproot the steadfast hills.

(_Through the door, rear. Louis enters, carrying
a flagon and a silver cup, his face showing
terror. Seeing the Priest, he stops suddenly
as though amazed, then enters slowly._)

FATHER BENEDICT--I care not were he nine times circled
round,
As Hell is, I would--

ABBOT-- (_Lifting his hand._)
Let me finish. Then,
If with eyes open you will venture on,
Do it. The night is wild. Heaven hath shaken down
Many a pine upon the mountain tops,
And steeples too, no doubt, and towns, who knows?
No man can tell what dawn shall look on. Even
This house of God--Hark how the thunders break!
The winds are playing havoc with the world
And Order frightened hath plunged into the sea.

LOUIS--The southern gable has been blown down.

ABBOT--(_After a look of surprise._) And
Thrice in the mossed chapel tower the bell
Hath rung, and no hand touched it; as it were
A tocsin to alarm the world that Hell
Hath landed. Though the seas be blown away
And the everlasting hills be tumbled down,
In summer calmness still the soul of man
Stands like a fortress, sure against assault
And terrible as a gorgon's head to Hell,
And adamant to all her engines. But
Let wrath break out inside, and crash! the gates
Are down.

FATHER BENEDICT-- (_Tapping himself upon his breast._)
And Hell comes in.

ABBOT-- And Hell goes in
And ravins there.

FATHER BENEDICT--In me.

ABBOT-- The lightning hath
No power to strike a tree while the blue sky
Bends over it. But let the wrath of Hell
Build up a cloud and fire it, and the tree
Falls shattered. But God calls the cloud away
And His winds blow it into nothingness.

FATHER BENEDICT--The tree is--?

ABBOT-- Oswald there. He stands secure.

FATHER BENEDICT--And the cloud--?

ABBOT-- You. You blacken over him
And, charged with passion, make an atmosphere
Of sulphur and in it, as in native air,
Hell slips her flame and the trunk tumbles down
To darkness. But God calls the cloud away
To judgment, and its shadow is seen no more.
If you will venture further in your wrath,
Do it, for I have done. (_A pause._) Very well, then.
You may resume, my--

OSWALD-- I will undergo
Whatever ordeal Father may suggest;
Will walk hot irons or put my hand in fire
Or anything.

ABBOT-- You hear that, Benedict?

FATHER BENEDICT--He knows the Pope has banned the ordeal.

(_To Oswald with scorn._)

Brave!

OSWALD--I call the saints--

FATHER BENEDICT-- (_To Louis._)
Do I look like a hound?

OSWALD--I said you _spoke_ as those that hunt--

FATHER BENEDICT-- By that
Meaning that I should tarre them on him.

OSWALD--(_With a puzzled look._) On
Me?

ABBOT--How did you come to say it, Oswald?

OSWALD--I grew up, Father, in a forest where
Men used to hunt, and I have often sat
In winter round their fires and heard them tell
Tales of the chase. And so when Father spoke
Of a chase my mind went back--

ABBOT-- Did you say this
After he told you of the hunter's dream?

OSWALD--Dream?

FATHER BENEDICT--_I_ told? I did not tell him.

(_Instantly the Abbot frowns silence at the
Priest._)

Speak out.

ABBOT--_Non somnium venatoris._--

OSWALD-- What dream?

PRIEST-- (_Contemptuously._)
As if he did not know it!

ABBOT-- (_Agitated._)
_Ne--ne dic!_
_Non scit somnium._

PRIEST-- (_Opening wide his eyes._)
That's the trick, then!
I'm to believe that, am I?

OSWALD-- Father, what--?

FATHER BENEDICT--I'll tell you what. The hunter--

ABBOT-- Benedict!

FATHER BENEDICT--If he don't know the dream, I'll tell him.
Macias saw a pack of--

ABBOT--(_Striking the table._) Will you stop?
_Eum ad insaniam adiges._

FATHER BENEDICT--Let it drive him mad.

(_As though provoked beyond expression, the Abbot
passes his hand across his brow and casts a
scornful glance toward the Priest._)

ABBOT-- Oswald, you go back
Into your cloister.

OSWALD-- Drive who mad, Father?

FATHER BENEDICT--You. The hunter saw the furious
hounds of Hell
Chasing you up a mountain, while a storm--

ABBOT--Benedict, God's curse--

FATHER BENEDICT-- On his enemies?

ABBOT-- On--

FATHER BENEDICT-- (_Stretching out his right arm._)
On those that aid them?

ABBOT-- Yes, and on--

FATHER BENEDICT-- Him, then.

(_From his right hand he drops the silver crucifix
and, with the forefinger of his left, points
at Oswald. The latter starts, shrinking in
terror from the curse. The Abbot and Louis,
dumbfounded, stare wide-eyed at the crucifix_
_which dangles from its cord about the Priest's
finger. The latter, after regarding with an
expression of triumph the astonishment of the
Abbot, lets the crucifix fall to the table
and, reaching across to the other side, pulls
the flagon over to himself and proceeds to
pour out a cup of wine._)

You're a smart set. You've wormed your way around
To let him out of calling me a dog;
Now let him out of that. You've made it seem--

(_He sips the wine._)

ABBOT--Where did you find it?

FATHER BENEDICT-- To yourselves, no doubt,
That he was ignorant of the dream when he
Insinuated that I led the pack
That chased him.

(_After a sip of wine._)

Or would lead it.

ABBOT-- Where did you
Find it?

FATHER BENEDICT--Where do you suppose?

LOUIS-- In the brook?

FATHER BENEDICT--A cauldron of hell-broth would be
nearer it. And you? (_The Abbot shakes his head._)
On his best-beloved.

LOUIS-- On Pierre?

FATHER BENEDICT-- On the dwarf. (_He drinks._)
Wages for his services, I suppose.

(_While the Priest drains the cup, the Abbot nods
to Louis, who steps quickly toward Oswald as
if to hurry him out._)

FATHER BENEDICT--Hold up! You let him stay.

OSWALD--(_Excitedly._) You had no right--

FATHER BENEDICT-- (_Lifting his hand._)
It's my turn to explain. (_He begins to fill the cup._)

ABBOT-- Oswald, retire.

OSWALD--I want to clear myself.

FATHER BENEDICT-- _Clear!_ Let him stay.

(_Cup in hand, to the Abbot._)

After your pretty speech this morning I,
Reaching the village, found your monk, here, and
Jardin at swords' points. Some one had espied
The dwarf, it seems, in town. And the people,
Remembering what he did the other night,
Shouted, and the Bailiff's voice rang loud
For vengeance.

OSWALD-- But 'twas the boy--

LOUIS-- You be still.

FATHER BENEDICT--Jardin proposed that they should burn him. He
Opposed it, fought it, he did. Just then I
Rode in. Jardin appealed to me, and I
Urged them to seize the devil. Then it was
This upstart here let loose his venomous,
Vile, hell-suggested intimation that
I had turned hound.

OSWALD-- I did not--

FATHER BENEDICT-- Not a word.
The upshot of it all was--Ah, but God
Will pour his wrath out on your head for this!
In view of what then happened, I now call
This night, this midnight hour, and wake up God
To witness that these mountains shall be cleared
Of heathen; that the dews of heaven shall fall
Baptizing bodies of the unbaptized
Stiff among the wild-flowers. For this young week,
That in this storm hath stepped upon the world,
Shall see a storm more terrible than this
On mountain tops uprooting human trees
And choking Death and Hell and Darkness.
Or let the infant Sabbath, born this hour,
Put not a foot on earth, but like a bird
Wander upon the winds, and in the dark
Grope for the morning star and find it not.
Let the gates of the morning be shut and let no bell
Wake up the world, unless it wake to see
Death ravining on the mountains and white Faith
Painting her banners there in heathen blood.
But Mercy shall be shut up in the caves,
For this accursed deed shall be tracked down,
And Vengeance ranging like a wild beast--Thou,
Above these maddening winds that wreck this world,
Hear me, _hear me_, HEAR ME. Thou in heaven!

(_Out of breath._)

And you--and you who caused all this, may God--

ABBOT--Benedict!

FATHER BENEDICT--But let God have his--

(_He swallows the wine._) His will.
And he will have it, mark you that, young man.

(_To the Abbot._)

Strange are the ways God hath of rousing up
The slothful to a work he long since laid
Upon the world and the world shirked it. But
It shall be done now, _it shall be done now_.
If for three years the heathen on the heights
Have served their idols, in less than three days
Their idols and themselves shall be in Hell.
Lead the chase yonder, Father, lead it there!
Beneath _them_ shake the mountains. Let this hand
Strike for Thee there, and serve Thee, striking them,
That this accursed deed may smell no more,
A putrid carcass rotting under heaven.
This is how God hath roused us up at last.

(_He drains the cup and sets it down._)

My people armed with vengeance had swung down
And reached the bridge, and Jardin, valiant man,
Soldier of God, Knight Templar of the Cross,
Who in the heathen land fought for ten years
To stamp out Satan, even in his old age
A furnace burning with the breath of God
And firing those about him to the work
Of ridding these mountains of the heathen, he--May
God reward him for it in the world
Without end, Amen--he had grabbed the dwarf
To drag him off and burn him--

OSWALD-- It was wrong--

FATHER BENEDICT--His blood is on your hands.

OSWALD--(_Frantically._) You murdered him!
You had no cause to kill him.

FATHER BENEDICT-- _I!_. Hear that.

OSWALD--The boy had done no harm. The night I fell
'Twas he who--

LOUIS--(_Seizing him._) Will you hush?

ABBOT--(_White with fear._) Oswald, retire.
Your fever--you're excited. (_Rising._) Benedict,
Don't press this matter further--now.

FATHER BENEDICT--(_Bewildered._) The _boy_!

ABBOT--Louis, take him--

FATHER BENEDICT-- No cause to kill the _boy_!

OSWALD--He--

LOUIS-- Father has forbidden it.

FATHER BENEDICT-- Um-hm!
I think I see--I think--I think I see.

ABBOT--What?

FATHER BENEDICT--So he told you it was the dwarf, eh?

LOUIS--

(_All the while shoving Oswald toward the rear_
_door._)

Just his imagination Father. I--
I was the one who found him at the gate.
He knew no more about it than a stone.
'Twas night; the stars were shooting in the--

FATHER BENEDICT-- When?

LOUIS--When he was brought up. Why he--

ABBOT--(_Quickly._) Louis!
(_Searching the Priest's face._) You asked
If he told us--?

FATHER BENEDICT--It was the dwarf was killed.

ABBOT--He told us that you had burned him.

FATHER BENEDICT--(_Fiercely to Oswald._) God shall burn
You, griffon, son of Tophet, damned thing!

(_Terrified at the dark in the corridor and with
a wild expression upon his face, Oswald
clutches hysterically at the door jambs._)

OSWALD--No, no, no, no! (_Piteously, as he is shoved along_
_through the hall._) Father, Father!

FATHER BENEDICT-- Call Hell!
I pray to God--

ABBOT-- Breathe no curse, Benedict.
I will inquire into this affair.
If he hath done aught culpable--

FATHER BENEDICT-- _If! If!_

ABBOT--If he hath spoken unbecomingly--

FATHER BENEDICT--Is Jardin's life then nothing? I suppose
Not, to you. (_He turns and goes toward the door, left._)

ABBOT-- What?

FATHER BENEDICT-- I suppose not, to you.

ABBOT--You mean to say--

FATHER BENEDICT-- Go your way; I go mine.

ABBOT--To say the dwarf killed--

FATHER BENEDICT-- You have espoused the cause
of the guilty.

ABBOT-- Of the guilty? _I_ espoused?

(_Following with the light_.)

Don't tell me Oswald had a hand in this.
Benedict, this is pure malignity.

FATHER BENEDICT--And no mouth in it, either, I suppose.

ABBOT--You mean he instigated this attack?

FATHER BENEDICT--

(_At the door, buckling his cloak about him_.)

Go your way; I go mine.

ABBOT-- I don't believe it.
I don't believe it. It smacks too like the charge
That he called you a dog. If you can prove
That any word of his caused Jardin's death,
I will attend to him.

FATHER BENEDICT--By cursing me.

ABBOT--You know why I--

FATHER BENEDICT-- You needn't apologize.

ABBOT--You, Benedict, not I, are needing grace.
You have assailed a child of God, and you
Know what our Lord said: "'Twere better a mill-stone
Were hanged about his neck and he were flung
Into the sea, than offend one of these."
You even seemed to take delight, to relish
Harrowing his soul up with the hunter's dream
And breaching it for horror to peep through.

FATHER BENEDICT--You wait.

(_He reaches down behind the chest_.)

ABBOT-- God will hold you responsible
If anything should happen to him.

FATHER BENEDICT-- You
Take care he does not visit you.

ABBOT-- Just now
You said yourself that it was you who urged
Jardin to seize the dwarf.

FATHER BENEDICT-- And so I did.

ABBOT--Whose fault is it if the dwarf killed him, then?

FATHER BENEDICT--We will let God decide whose fault--
Move this.

ABBOT-- (_Setting the lamp down upon the floor._)
You even said Oswald opposed it, and
For that just now you blamed him.

FATHER BENEDICT-- You think you
Understand everything. You _think_ you do.

(_They pull the chest from the wall._)

ABBOT--Then tell me.

FATHER BENEDICT-- (_Reaching down and getting his staff._)
The dwarf did not kill him.

ABBOT-- How?
Is he not dead?

FATHER BENEDICT--By this time, he may be.

ABBOT--I still don't see where Oswald's fault comes in.

(_He takes up the lamp._)

FATHER BENEDICT--We will let God decide whose fault it is.

(_He goes out._)

ABBOT--How did it happen?

FATHER BENEDICT--God was there; ask him.

(_Louis reappears._)

ABBOT--Stay, Benedict, tell me explicitly--

FATHER BENEDICT--
This is the last time you will see me here.

ABBOT--Eh? (_Holding the light above his head._)
What do you propose to do?

FATHER BENEDICT-- You wait.

ABBOT--I fear for you, unless you quench your wrath.

(_A moment later, he turns back._)

LOUIS--Again safe.

ABBOT-- Barely.

LOUIS-- What was that he said?
The last time he would come here?

ABBOT-- I hope so. (_Thunder._)

LOUIS--And don't let Oswald--

ABBOT-- Close tight the shutters.

LOUIS--And don't let Oswald go down there again.
We would be risking all that we have gained.
The brothers, begging in the town to-day,
Brought in four hundred franks, a silver cup,
Three rings, a pair of bracelets, and a pearl
Big as a pea.

ABBOT-- A very good day's work.

LOUIS--If this keeps up, the chest won't hold it all.

ABBOT-- (_Suddenly, glancing about upon the table._)
Benedict--did he take--the crucifix?

LOUIS-- (_At the window._)
Oswald took it.--Do you think Benedict
Found it where he said he--

ABBOT--(_Aghast._) Oswald!

LOUIS-- Why?

ABBOT--The hunter saw it blood-stained in his dream.

(_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 thought
It 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 his lamp 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 Luigi
And would have dragged the chest out.

ABBOT-- And did he?

LOUIS-- No;
But it was all that four of us could do
To 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.
They listen. Louis crosses himself and
mutters._)

_Sed libera nos a malo._ Father-- (_The Abbot lifts his hand._)
What
Do you think it means? (_A pause._)

ABBOT-- Come to my room.

(_To himself, as he goes left._) If
The etherial gods, as the wise poet says,
Dwell afar off and in the affairs of men
Interfere 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 he goes out._) If.

(_Louis takes up the parchment which lies upon the_
_floor near the Abbot's chair and, going to the
rear door, shuts it and slides the bolt. He
then blows out the taper 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 Scene Three
of the Second Act. A storm is heard roaring through the
mountains, with an occasional rumble of thunder and in the
darkness sudden luster as of lightning far off. In these
flashes, the scene gleams wet as after a hard rain._

_From the right, comes a faint sound as of a stick tapping on_
_stone, and soon along the side of the dormitory old Andrew_
_appears, carrying a staff with which he is feeling his 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 moon
Shines 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 gale
To 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--

(_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!

(_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 wind
Will blow us far off to the Pleiades
And swamp us. (_Lightning._)
That was the Bear went by. And
Virgo 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 his eyes._)

"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 jump
Right 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 as
Sparkles on Memnon's sister. What's this clammy thing?
Cold, bloody hand! Hand with a locket in it!
_Un_lock 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 lid _is_ off. (_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 dark
Doffs 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 prow
Shakes 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 left hand up beside his head, which is
drawn down, backing fearfully through the
door into the dormitory. The thunder rumbling
in the darkness sounds like the growl of an
enormous wild beast._)