University of Virginia Library

Scene V.

—A Cell in the ruins of a Convent.—The Patriarch lying on a pallet.
Enter Theodora.
Theodora.
All goes as we would have it, holy father;
The Mæsian men stand firm and nought transpires.

Patriarch.
Who is it—Ha? Who's there?

Theodora.
Most reverend Lord,
Arouse you and look up. Our purpose thrives.

Patriarch.
I say again who is it? Speak, who is it?

Theodora.
The Princess Theodora.

Patriarch.
Theodora!
What, hast thou stricken him? reach me thy palm.
Lo! there's no blood—all over ashy white.
The Princess Theodora—why then speak—
Say—hast thou dealt the blow?

Theodora.
Father, not yet;
The hour has not yet come.

Patriarch.
Not yet, not yet?
That ever was the cry—when I said, “Strike,”
Some coward came between and said, “Not yet.”

Theodora.
Compose thy mind; the season is at hand,
And duly as the day and night go round
The work shall be fulfilled; for deeper vows
Than ever pilgrim pledged his soul withal
Devote me to this deed.—He hears me not.

Patriarch.
Bring holy water that my hands be cleansed.
The Father of the Church this day hath slain
Seven men in battle—be his sins absolved.

Theodora.
Christ! that his senses should forsake him now,
At once, and in this need! Arouse thy mind;
Father, Comnenus reigns; this very hour
He will be crowned; bethink thee of the hour.

Patriarch.
Think'st thou I hear thee not—beshrew thy shouting—
I bade thee smite him and thou brought'st me back
A pair of lily palms and saidst, “Not yet.”
But hark! his soul is cared for: 'twas my charge
And I have tended it: die when he may
There is a weight on that—help! I am slain—
What traitor drave that spear?—Soft, let me lie.

Theodora.
Great God! is this his death-stroke?

Patriarch.
Let me lie—
Let me lie down.

Theodora.
What hinders you, my Lord;
Pray you lie down. His back's as stark as steel.
He is convulsed.—Help, friends, help! help, without!

Enter a Mæsian Officer.
Officer.
I greet your Highness with but evil news—

Theodora.
Peace with thy news—seest not the Patriarch ta'en
With the death-struggle? help to lay him down.
Soft! he's more placid now. Go, call the priests.
[Exit the Officer.
Lo! his eyes open wide:—how now?

Patriarch.
Methought
That there was some one dying in this house.
Who may it be?

Theodora.
Nay, turn thy thoughts elsewhere;
Call on Lord Jesus and His holy mother;
Think thou wert ever steadfast in the faith
And may'st have hope of grace. Here come the priests.
Ill may I do their office.

Enter Priests.
1st Priest.
Much I fear
The life hath left him. Open thou his vest.
The pulse is gone—gone utterly—alas!
The soul's departed.

Theodora.
'Twas an awful strife.
Take forth the body.

2nd Priest.
Lo, beneath his vest
Here is a wound still bloody, and received
Doubtless in this day's fight.

1st Priest.
And here are scars
Of wounds received long since. Men wont to say
He was not in his youth the sinless saint
We knew him, but a man of lawless life
And militant in other wars than ours.
Some blood was spilt in stifling of that tale,
And like enough he spared the surgeon's aid
Rather than show these scars. So—bear him out.

[Exeunt Priests with the body.
Theodora.
This is a fearful hour. A terrible end
Was that old man's, and if all tales be true
Many a dark deed his soul is charged with. Ay,
A fearful hour to usher in an act
That may lie heavy on the soul hereafter.

Re-enter the Officer.
Officer.
By the Count's command
The Mæsians have been suddenly disarmed.

Theodora.
Disarmed! and they resisted not?

Officer.
Their Chief
Had been entrapped before, and when assured
That all should have an equal share of spoil
They gave their arms.

Theodora.
My father's word fulfilled!

Officer.
A few were headstrong, and amongst them I,
In cover of a tumult that ensued,
Took sword in hand and brake away to you.

Theodora.
Enough, Sir; I discharge you from all dues
Of future service.

Officer.
I shall ever hold
My service at your Highness's command.

Theodora.
I thank you; for I did not look to find
In such extremity a heart so true.
My last memorial for service done
Is this. Accept it from a fallen friend.
[Giving a ring.
Now, Sir, farewell; our common cause expires;
What may remain is Theodora's; she
Will execute henceforth her own behests.

[Exit the Mæsian Officer.
Enter a Messenger.
Messenger.
Alas! your Highness, there is grievous news;
My Lord, your royal father—

Theodora.
What of him?

Messenger.
By his own hand hath died.

Theodora.
My father dead?

Messenger.
The warder found him almost cold and stiff;
He had been dead an hour.

Theodora.
No marvel this.
To him the bitterness of death was past;
He has done well and wisely; in the world
He had no more to do; there yet remains
A task of mine unfinished. Now, to work.