 | Gregory VII |  |
SCENE III.
—Outer walls of a Monastery. Marble tombs. Time, sunset.Enter Gregory, habited as a Monk, and Damianus.
Gre.
How now, frail nature! think'st thou I shall fail?
This way he 'll pass, and here will I confront him
With solemn warnings from the endangered Church.
89
I rise upon the waves of thy resolve:
My heart 's uplifted, and I shall not fall.
Gre.
Good Damianus, dost thou call to mind,
In Clugny's monastery, when we two
Were lowly acolites—'tis now some years;
Forty and more—that, in my cell one night,
When all the brothers slept, an oath we swore
The papal power to lift above the crowns
Of subject princes? Lo! we 've seen it done.
Now comes a final struggle for the hand
That wrought this work; and if 'tis hewn to earth,
Its deeds spring up the same.
Dami.
But thou 'lt prevail?
Gre.
Assuredly, as thou hast ever seen.
Dami.
(aside).
And yet I tremble: would this hour were past!
(Aloud).
The Countess of Tuscany—
Gre.
She will return.
Do not disturb my calm. Think'st thou, lord Guido
Was urged sufficiently?
Dami.
I well believe it.
Gre.
Then will vague fears enforce him constantly
Unnerve the Emperor's purpose, and prepare
His impious will for censure. Hark! retire!
[Distant sound of martial music.
Dami.
(aside).
If they should recognise him?—if he fail—
Unarmed amidst their madness—and alone?
He must not know my fear.
Gre.
Retire, I say!
Dami.
Your guards I 'll plant at call—let me, too, stay!
In time of peril I would never leave thee!
90
My purpose will be best advanced alone.
It is the Emperor with his train that come
This way: his armies pass o'the other side.
Retire, good Damianus.
Dami.
God inspire thee!
[Exit.
Gre.
I do invoke it from the boundless depths
Of this my human heart! Oh, give me words,
As from Vulcanian forges, armed in proof,
To shield or smite! (lets fall the cowl over his face)
and to my breath impart
A spirit of lightning! Blasted be his tree
Of life, which I will tear down and uproot,
Chanting Thy Name!
Enter the Emperor, Eberardus, and Guido.
Emp.
Why stand'st thou in my path?
Gre.
It is my path, O Emperor! and not thine.
I am a servant of yon holy house,
To which thou also shouldst in faith belong,
And kneel with reverence.
Emp.
Stand aside, rude monk!
Dar'st thou my faith impugn?
Gre.
By God's command!
'Twas not in dreams that pious Guido heard
The spiritual breathings of the night,—
The deep words echoed from a sphere remote:
Beware! thou 'rt warned!
Gui.
My liege, our souls are perilled!
(Aside).
And yet that voice—that voice—would I dare speak!
Emp.
(to Gui.)
This is the holy man, of whom—
Gui.
It is.
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The broad sun sets; and o'er yon vault is spread
A smouldering purple, touched with crimson flame,
And based on gloomy gold. So shews the fate
Of kingdoms. Yet a little while, and night
Comes down, and with a universal blot
Sweeps out the gorgeous picture. Wickedness
Is short-lived as this scene; and while the glare
Of the world's tainted glory gilds its skirts,
Evanishing so fast—from bottomless pits
Issues its first wild cry midst torments fierce,
Prepared for impious kings, who each shall have
His own exclusive hell.
Emp.
Father, these words,
Which I receive prophetic, as yon scene,
Of Gregory's turbulent grandeur and dark fall,
Dar'st thou to me apply?
Gre.
To thee, and all
Who 'd trample on the Church!
Emp.
I vow myself
Her truest servant.
Gre.
Wouldst thou equivocate
With the all-seeing, the all-knowing God,
His high Vicegerent scorning!
Emp.
Never, never!
Gre.
Kneel'st thou before the Apostolic chair?
Emp.
Most reverently!
Gre.
With armies at thy heel?
Emp.
My armies march to thrust from off the throne
Of sanctity, a bold usurping man;
The tyrannous arch-hypocrite Gregory!
Father, give way!—set on!
Gre.
Behold these tombs!
92
Time presses—see'st thou not thy lord—thy king?
Gre.
What is a lord or a king compared with thunder?
See them stand underneath; mark well their looks,
And think of nobility! These are the tombs of kings!
Emp.
The dead are silent. Give me passage, monk!
What wouldst thou more?
Gre.
The silence of a corpse
Is thunder to the soul! Listen awhile,
And thou shalt hear these monuments rehearse
The woes of nations; uttering cavernous sighs,
Death-fraught as pestilent breezes borne afar
From isles of gloom along the sweltering sea.
Sumatra, Java, and dark Borneo,
Ne'er shook from heavy and hearse-headed trees
Such baleful odours! Think'st thou that the souls
Of those who made large havoc in the world,
Peopling the grave in virtue of their crowns,
By wars accursed, are now enshrined in bliss?
Think'st thou to 'scape the torments of their doom
By reverent words, while devastating brands
Await thy shout for blood, e'en in the eye
Of heaven's Vicegerent?
Emp.
Monk, I will not fear thee:
Nor shall thy words sink deeper than mine ear,
Since Gregory is cast out!
Gre.
Cast out! By whom?
Emp.
By his own deeds, which sing aloft i' the wind,
Like evil spirits forced to celebrate
The history of their fall. There is no Pontiff!
Gre.
Who saith it?—thou! Thou fell'st before his power,
Flat as a shadow! Gregory to the Church
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To her dominion adding force and scope;
To all her sanctity a higher aim;
To all her splendours unity of tone;
Taking and giving an exulting light,
Like to a scarlet mantle in the sun!
Emp.
The Babylonian scarlet!
Gre.
(tearing off his monk's habit).
Fires o' my heart!
Emp.
What ho, my guards! is this an ambuscade?
Imperial Guards rush in; and Damianus, with several Cardinals: the latter range themselves beside Gregory.
Gre.
Fires o' my heart!—thou central source of fire,
Loose all thy tides!
Emp.
They shall not turn my course.
Gre.
Down to thy knees! Behold me as I am,
The ruling presence, bearer of God's keys!
The golden, self-sustained, pre-eminent cloud,
Whose inward breast holds all immortal life!
Emp.
That cloud is black within, and it shall burst
In rain, and disappear from the earth's face.
I spurn thy usurpation, and defy thee!
Gre.
(slowly).
Emperor of Germany! why art thou here
With armed bands and homicide looks of war?
Why flash the bloodshot eyes o'the trembling steeds?
Why scream the trumpets o'er the music, tuned
To barbarous deeds, while banner and buckler shew
Gross painted effigies which commemorate
The glorious battles of immortal fools
Who drove out mercy from the human heart,
And with red Furies filled the steaming fields?
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And what are thy intents?
Emp.
To enter Rome,
And in the Vatican proclaim aloud
Thy wickedness and fall.
Gre.
Bethink you well
Of your last visit.
Emp.
Therefore am I come.
Oh! doubt me not I shall remember it;
The better, that with reason in the mouth
And madness in the brain, thou comest to thrust
A brand amidst my never-closing wounds,
And urge to final action by thy calm
Smile of insane superiority.
Forward to Rome!
Gre.
I do forbid you, solemnly, in the name
Of all—
Emp.
All thou profanest by thine own deeds:
I scorn thy raving and thy prohibition.
And what shall serve thy taunts at feats of arms?
Disgust at the keen glories and high scenes
Of necessary and ennobling war,—
The hypocritical horror in thy looks?
Thou, who didst get and hold preposterous power
Entirely through main force and sworded hands;
Else hadst thou lived and died within thy cell,
An obscure, scowling, self-corroded monk.
Gre.
(calmly).
This is not true.
Emp.
Not!
Gre.
(passionately).
By my soul, 't is false!
Was it by war I made Rome high in art;
Heaped her with beauty and magnificence?
95
And wise men ceased to beg about the streets?
Was it by war the Vatican reared her crest
O'er all your temporal palaces and powers?
Was it by war, by main force, and the sword,
That I, the son of a poor carpenter
Of Tuscany, did gather up strong thoughts,
Learning, and eloquence, and energy,
Till on my brows I fixed the triple crown,
And made an Emperor kneel like a child before me?
Emp.
(stamping with rage).
To arms!
Gre.
See where he flies to arms, d' ye mark!
Forbear, I charge ye! Dread the curse of Rome!
Emp.
We 'll dread no curse that one like thee can hurl.
Stand from my path on peril of thy life!
[Damianus and the Cardinals advance.
Gre.
My life is sacred, as my curse is sure:
I do revoke the pardon I conferred!
Emp.
I dare thee to the field! Away! away!
On to the city!
Gre.
And again depose thee,—
Emp.
Sound to the charge!
[Trumpets.
Gre.
And excommunicate!
Emp.
Charge the Papal Guards!
[Exeunt all but Gregory.
Alarum. The charge without.
Gre.
(after a pause).
Power writhes out of my grasp, while I do seem
To crush what I would cherish; and the coils
O' the high-necked dazzling serpent, wise and strong,
Drop heavy at my feet!
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You had my orders!
Off.
They were clear as steel,
But could not be effected.
Gre.
Could not be?
Off.
Dread sir, the Emperor hath this instant charged
With his main force.
Gre.
(contemptuously).
I heard him:
So may you know
By the small click of his machinery,
When the invisible grasshopper takes a leap
At the far sun. Your phalanx did not move?
Off.
'T will move no more till the Last Day!
[Retreat sounded.
Enter a Messenger.
Gre.
And you?
Mess.
The Count Tancredi—your chief leaders—all
Are slain! The Papal forces fly!
Gre.
For vengeance!
They fly to the onslaught?
Mess.
No, no! for their lives.
Gre.
Now, by my father's hand! my mother's spirit,
Which early broke her heart! I little reck
These closing accidents of life's brief scene.
The world doth spin from underneath my feet,
Or else my brain turns giddy and sick with its noise.
Enter Damianus.
What worse, what worse?—pale Damianus, speak!
Dami.
Oh, friend! dread sir! your troops are all dispersed.
Take refuge now: ere long you may return.
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My heart 's too heavy to move. Curses pursue them!
Dami.
Oh, stay not here! you tempt your fate.
Gre.
I do;
And I defy her! Fate 's an idiot
Confronted by man's will; and never yet
A single high-branched action reared or blighted;
But only gabbled after all was done.
I'll wait till the firmament comes down.
Dami.
What shape
Of desolate agony approaches now?
Gre.
Away, and let it come!
[Exit Damianus.
What more can come,
When hope is irretrievably lost and gone?
'T is she!—now would I turn aside, and shun
The sands of such an hour. She comes to me!
Enter Matilda (who advances with an air of forlorn anguish, breaking occasionally into fits of distraction).
Mat.
Perfect humanity of Christian souls!
All knowledge, grace, and happy love are thine,
Pure nature guides the clearness of thy ways,
And general misery shews 'tis all a lie.
See! see!—see what a piteous height she rose!
Methought she leaned upon a heavenward tower,
And the tower fell to earth. Light, light the candles!
The shrine is dark. Now it sheds blood for rays!
Now all is dark again; and laughter shakes
The base o'the crucifix! There is a hand
Upon me!—tomb-o'erstumbling misery
Hales me by the hair before Christ's spurning foot!
A cold shape rises—it is Annihilation!—
98
Dim, interlunar giant! shadowed light
Of my lost substance of eternity,
Receive this wasted being! No, no, no!
I would fain live, and save my sinking soul.
The shrine bursts forth in light! I am turned black—
Opaque—incapable to take one ray.
Oh, thou sweet-featured Christ! look not upon me
With eye severe: I strove on fatal wings,
And most sincerely fell. Give me the cords!
The music sounds at Satan's wedding feast;
I must dive deep down through the icy air!
Gre.
Am I the shape I was—the thing called power,
That woke this morn from natural human sleep?
Mat.
(approaching Gre.)
Oh, you are here!
Emperor of Germany, I know you well,
Though you disguise yourself like Gregory!
But what avails you that?—the gravest dwarf
Doth look most laughable in a great man's robes.
I come to say I shall return to him,
With all the Tuscan forces: they're not like
Godfrey's imaginary myrmidons;
But steel-shod cattle to tread empires down:
And thus his murder shall be well avenged.
Emperor, I trample thee in Gregory's name;
Gregory, the supreme ruler of the earth!
I dreamed he had become a little child.
Hush! hush! be silent—Oh, be silent I pray,
For nobody knows of this.—
They're coming!—they bring the perfect humanity,
With skeleton morals and a full-fed doom.
Pity me, pity me! where shall I fly
99
(With steady earnestness).
We do not make ourselves, but we are made right.
My flesh is ague, and my bones are ice,
And therefore have I led a perfect life,
Which reason, chastity, and heaven approve.
You look at me as if you knew me not;
Or do I see thee far, far off i'the mist?
I 've been confused with deep conflicting thoughts,
But you shall hear my name: I am the ruins
Of the city of Magdala! woe and alas!
The sun doth waste himself upon me!
[Exit, with a moaning anguish.
Gre.
Wheel on, ye spheres! intensest particles
Must fly off first. Come thou Infallible Death!
I take thee by the hand; but save my sight
From that wan face—mine ears from those lost cries!
Enter Guido, Agnes, and a German Officer, with Guards.
Gui.
Yonder he stands, confounded!
Agn.
Now, advance.
Gui.
He wanders blind through ruins of high hopes,
And feels their chilling shadows. Speak to him!
Off.
Surrender all authority!
Agn.
Homicide!
Gui.
See'st thou Pope Alexander's famished form
Hovering before thee?
Agn.
See'st Duke Godfrey,
In 's bloody winding sheet, and hear'st thou not
Matilda's frantic voice?
100
(abstractedly).
Hush! be ye silent:
Oh, be silent I pray!
Agn.
Canst thou hope mercy?
Gui.
(aside).
What doth he gaze upon in the mid air,
Far onward? His face changes!—
[To Officer].
Let us not
Act cruelly, but firmly, sir.
Off.
(to Gre).
You are
The Emperor's prisoner!
Agn.
To the city bear him!
Our yoke of triumph brooks not this delay.
Off.
Wilt thou not move?
Agn.
Drag! drag him hence!
Voices.
Away!
Gre.
(with lofty melancholy).
Rude winds, rude winds! ye shall as easily drag
Tri-zoned Jove's star-set eternity
Back to his past life on Olympus old,
As move my body or soul!
Agn.
(to the Guards).
Are ye struck with frost—
Or stand ye pale i' the disk of a gorgon shield?
[Shouts outside.
Off.
Madam, retire!
Gui.
Your stay were perilous!
[Exeunt. Manet Gregory.
Gre.
Am I too strong for death?—let him come soon!
Enter Damianus, with a small body of the Papal Guards.
Dami.
Oh, save yourself! the Vatican 's all a-blaze!
Its choice collections, grandeur, sanctity,
In clouds of ashes now float back to heaven!
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(rousing as from a trance).
Who hath done this? beware thou tell'st me truth!
Dami.
It was the Emperor's deed.
Gre.
I suffocate
With his name! Burn down the Vatican, dost thou say?
Dami.
And catching fury from the voluble flame,
Raging he now returns in search of thee!
These soldiers do devote their lives—and vow—
Gre.
(passionately).
Ye handful of good soldiers! brim your hearts
From mine, with all-exterminating wrath,
And armed invulnerably 'gainst man and fiend
By this high mission, acted in God's eye,
And with His nostril's breath impelled, now follow
My forthright course, which never shall be turned!
Oh, for some terrible sword, that I may slay!
Slay! slay!—
[Exeunt.
| Gregory VII | |