University of Virginia Library

SCENE IV.

—Grand Hall in the Vatican.
Gregory, in full state, standing on his throne. Cardinals, Bishops, Abbots, Nobles, Monks, Soldiers, and a vast concourse, are on their knees.
Gre.
I bless the world! let the far nations hear it!
[A trumpet peals forth one lengthened note.
First, all ye pillars of the Church of Rome,
Receive the rays of beatific peace,
And let your massy glory shed around
Light, warmth, and splendour, wisdom, beauty, hope,
To fill the heart of faith, and grace your power!
In just gradation next, its dignitaries,
Who walk erect, through life's uneven ways,
Blessing and blessed; and all our holiest hands
And ablest servitors,—whether to uplift
The sick or faltering, and the impious crest
To smite; and whether holding temporal sway
From high patrician ancestry, whose deeds
Crimson fame's cheek with pride, or humbly bearing
Office monastic, and a spirit of life
Whose purity toucheth heaven! Thence, the vast throng,
Bowed in a flock o'er this their pasturing field;
Sinful, yet hopeful—and who may be saved—
And children all, of every loving land,
Whose souls, like matin dews, rise up from earth!
[Solemn note of a trumpet, as before. All rise, except Guido, Tancredi, and Fabio, who continue kneeling, in chains. Gregory sits.
Lastly, I do confer protecting thoughts
On prostrate sinners,—who have rigidly,
And to the very roots of inward sense,
Their due amount of penances performed;—
And on all living creatures and things that walk
Or creep along the earth, or skim the sea
And air! Rise, penitents; go forth, forgiven!
[Guido, Tancredi, and Fabio rise, and step aside with humility.
Where is the other penitent, once a king?

[Damianus comes forward.
Dami.
Oh, supreme Ruler! the dethroned man,
In ashes and sackcloth, barefoot stands without,
On the bitter stones, awaiting your behest,
And praying constantly, with a loud voice,
For pardon and restoration!

Gre.
It is well:
I 'll think of him anon.

Enter the Empress Agnes.
Agn.
My lord! high Pontiff!
It is the winter season—I had forgot—
Bethink, your holiness, of what you do!—
'T is winter's worst—
His aching gleams pierce through the marble floor,
To the clear-eyed sun insensible; while, barefoot—
Barefoot, the Emperor stands, and all his prayers
Are choaked in clouds of his congealed breath!
Bethink you, well!

Gre.
I do; and it is good.

Agn.
Good!—while the Emperor—

Gre.
There 's no such office.

Agn.
What mean'st to do? What 's this! I cannot bear
To see 't. My son, an Emperor skilled in arms,
Thus held in lengthened penance! To what end
Is this unnecessary harshness shewn,
When all the forms of man's humility
Have to the church been tendered?

Gre.
(with severity.)
Royal lady!
Maternal guardian! you do ill in this.
Not for mere forms of man's humility,
These acts of penitence do I enjoin;
But for the true prostration of his pride,
And heretic wickedness.

Agn.
Look to thyself,
High pontiff! 'T is a treacherous exercise
Of thine authority to use us thus!
My naked heart returns unto my son,
And leaves its rent, soiled garment unto thee!

[Exit.
[Gregory descends slowly from his throne.
Gre.
(aside).
It must be done, though she should take his place;
And that, methinks, were also very good.
She shall be watched.
Enter Matilda.
Why wer 't not here before?

Mat.
(to Gre.)
I have just seen,
Not without sympathy, not without pain,
The Emperor standing barefoot on the stones!

Gre.
The man you mean was once an emperor:
Now he is nothing.

Mat.
Yes, he is still a man.

Gre.
Whate'er he was, or is, in fact or fancy,
To nothing shall he come!

Mat.
Sure to forgiveness?—
Though you delay it to extremity.
The penance you enjoin is too severe.

Gre.
(aside to Matilda, and hoarse with passion).
Too, too severe! Daughter, I'll judge of that.
You are presumptuous, weak, and ignorant,
To interfere, and fail at such a pass!
It is the very point and pinnacle
Of proof, beyond dispute, and sets at rest,
Beneath the monument of his disgrace,
Built up of prayers and groans of penitence,
Their quillets for all future emperors,
Who shall look back upon this day—and bow
Their heads, like savage nations when they hear
The exalted thunder! Get thee from my sight!
I'll have no purblind, short-breathed policies:
Up the high hill at one great bound I'll go,
And then direct the light seen from afar.
Away! What dost thou here with half resolves?
Retire, retire!—I waste myself upon you.

[Gregory resumes his throne.
Mat.
(stunned).
Some hand assist me!

[Exit, blindly.
Gre.
Let the penitent now
Approach the seat of mercy! Lead him hither!
[Exeunt Monks in attendance.
His diadem I purpose to restore,
Receiving him once more beneath heaven's wing,
When that his heart is humbled with the dust.

Enter a procession of Monks; and then the Emperor, in sackcloth and ashes, bare-headed and bare-footed, with a rope round his waist. He kneels before Gregory, who raises his right hand in sign of vicegerent power.