University of Virginia Library

Scene I.

A room in the Prophet's house. David, Nimrod, and Livia seated at a table upon which lie papers and plans. Rhoda at the window looking upon the garden, with some needlework in her hand.
NIMROD
It means not failure. Still our armor shines,
Our weapons cleave; but they whose power we shake,
The lazy priesthood of neglected law,
Have clothed themselves with cunning, to evade
Direct assault: so on their flanks exposed
Must we surprise them.

DAVID
Yet I would not haste.
Even after goodly battle, here we sit
Not quite secure; for jealousy of some,
Unreasoning hopes that in denial end,
And selfish fretting o'er each needful curb,
Still task our wisdom: hardly can we spare
The fine, selected strength your purpose claims.

NIMROD
There is no virtue but fatigues itself.
A sudden truth uplifts with violence
The prostrate human soul; but once exhaust
The first impulsion, see how weak it stands!
So there's a crisis this side of success
In highest things: our lot, this hour, is weighed
With that of all neglected, powerless tribes,
That have no life but in the founder's name.
If here we pause, we may become as they;
But if, accepting every sign of power
As loan, or test, until another come,
We lime new branches, and extend our nets
To snare men's fluttering souls, we shall possess,
In time, the world.

LIVIA
Surely no less will you,
Our prophet; and no atom less will we.
That few are gathered now, and halting minds
Grow restless, casts no shadow on the truth;
For souls are verily but as frightened birds
That beat themselves against the pane, and shun
The hand that catches them to set them free.

NIMROD
Well spoken! Nothing more have I proposed.

DAVID
I hoped direct, immediate influence—
The power that kindles, burns, and purifies—
Might be all-potent: yet, if men avoid
The touch of healing, must be first constrained,
Till health and gratitude together work
To bring them here, I cannot but receive.

NIMROD
Then, if they come, why question how they come?
The life delivered never faulty finds
The manner of deliverance. I, once,
When caught by drowning arms that would have drowned
Me also, dealt a powerful blow that stunned
And saved the man.

LIVIA
Deal out your blows to men,
And welcome! Women claim a gentler touch.
How many are there, discontented hearts
That pine and wither, seeking sympathy
Their sex denies, and yours in half-contempt
Neglects to give! For virile souls are coarse
And awkward, being selfish: the plain way
To woman's fast dependence (which she thinks
Dependence on her) you would seek in vain,
Unless an Ariadne gave the clew.

NIMROD
Who, then, was she? A Gentile woman, sure,
Whom Paul converted.

LIVIA
'Tis enough that she
Was woman, and enough that also I
Am woman. Once I dwelt in Rome, it chanced;
And thither came a spinster whom I knew,
Free of the world, indifferent to love,
Secure and calm in high intelligence,
Armed at all points; yet soon the Church espied
Beneath cold breasts the vulnerable sense.
The haughty priests, whose passionless, thin lips
So rarely, but with dangerous sweetness, smile,
The dreamy youths, the rosy acolytes,
Sang to her, gave their faith the form of love,
Till with new passion, as in budding years,
Her woman's heart, sore with long abstinence,
Sent up narcotic heats that drugged the brain,
And she was theirs. As easily were she ours!
There is no woman lives but in her soul
Demands a bridegroom; failing one of flesh,
Then one of spirit. Learn to promise this
In secret visitations, mystic signs,
Make truth seem love, and knowledge ecstasy,
And you will lead our sex.

RHODA
(Rising hastily.)
Who, then, are you?
What mother nursed you on such milk as this?
I have but scanty words; but in my heart
The woman, from her simple whiteness torn,
And dipped in scarlet, cries, “Not thus are we!
Not thus the loneliness of maiden life,
The lingering sorrow of frustrated love,
And pure regret, and tender hope outlived,
Seek compensation.” Less than moveth man
Gives woman peace. The aged, innocent lives
Of childless widows and unwedded maids
Softly enclose us, young, and keep from harm.
Denied their own, they guard another's brood,
So gathering bliss. But of what kind are those
Who find no truth, save men, forbid to wed,
Or wived already, offer it as love?

LIVIA
Your innocence takes false alarm: the old,
The gentle, fixed in narrow circumstance,
Good by tradition and temptation's lack,
Resist us most. Who was it came to call
Not righteous men, but sinners? Virtue lifts
A front the braver after knowledge comes;
But is not knowledge first? I spake of that
Whereof your ignorance is no reproach:
The blessedness of life descends on you,
But not on them you blame.

DAVID
Reject not such!
'Twas so commanded: them the Devil traps
It may be lawful that we snare in turn.
We fight the Fiend, my wife: our triumph here
Hath pricked him out of ancient confidence.

NIMROD
The power is given: the secret of its use
Is left to us. The first light dazzles men;
And some reach forth, and grasp the guiding hand;
Then others say, with pupils narrowed in,
“There is no need: we see but as we saw.”
Here, husbanding the busy strength of all,
And wasting nought, the comforts we can spare
Invite a double number: let them come!
And if, through weakness captured, they receive
The gift of power; through greed, unselfishness;
Through vain delusions, knowledge of the truth,—
What fool will cast away the tested gold
He gets, for promised copper?

LIVIA
Strange that men
Who most do suffer must be driven to good!
They are as children bribed to take the draught
That saves, even though the prophet's honeyed wine.
Lo! now the temple's gilded pinnacles
The impatient sun hath kissed: across the land
They sharply shine like arrows drawn to head,
And heavenward aimed. The signs portend increase.
Shall we alone be lean, while others burst
With useless fatness?

DAVID
Call our messengers
To learn a new commandment! We must stay
Their sinking hands, fill up their flickering lamps,
And sting their souls with courage which o'ercomes,
Since it foresees. One weapon given to all
Were scarcely wisdom: lend the shorter arm
A longer blade, the less-enduring force
Advantage of the ground. While they exist,
The Gentile churches, must we spread or cease.
I meant not idleness; but, if so seems
This pause of preparation, let us work
Amid the noises of the ringing steel,
Heat with quick hammer-blows where fire may fail,
And only rest when faint with victory.