 | In The Name of Time |  |
39
ACT III
Scene: The Garden and Cloisters of Monte Casino.MARCOMIR.
[striking himself with a stone]
What tides of rapture spring at every stroke!
Have mercy, God! Such agony of pleasure
I felt when she came near. Oh, can it be
I have not yet inflicted utter pain?
Is there some chaste and vigorous suffering
Beyond the shameful wiles, with which the lash
Unnerves me? Pain, more pain!
[He strikes himself without pity; then, seeing Damiani enter the court, he hurriedly drops the shard.]
DAMIANI.
Your hand is bleeding.
I see!—Although I took away your silex
You yet have braved my will.
MARCOMIR.
I need the rod.
DAMIANI.
You need obedience. Flog yourself again,
You will be locked in prison like your friend.
MARCOMIR.
[in a low voice]
He has no guilt.
DAMIANI.
No guilt! You have not heard
I caught him flushed with triumph at the news
That Astolph in defiance of the Pope
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As well he might, but Carloman blasphemed
Would I were with your brother! and for this
I had him shut in darkness fourteen days.
The term is over, and to change your sullen,
Ascetic mood—it is a festival—
You shall restore your friend to liberty.
You err through over-discipline, a fault,
But one that brings us honour; stubbornness
Like his disgraces the whole brotherhood.
Admonish him! If he is quite subdued
He shall be suffered to resume his rank
Among his fellows: for yourself, remember
Humility is satisfied with penance
The Church inflicts. No private luxury!
Do not offend again.
[Exit.]
MARCOMIR.
Not use the rod!
Not use it when I feel incitements rapid
As points of fire awake me to the knowledge
That all my flesh is burning! Every flint
Becomes a new temptation. How confess
To him I love his wife, and guiltily!
O Geneviva, do the swans still crowd
Round you to feed them? Are you mistress still
In the old palace? Can there be a doubt?
If Pepin dare insult you—O this frock,
This girdle, not a sword belt! And your husband
Who brought you to such peril with his dreams,
Let the light wake him!
[Marcomir unlocks the prison-door, flings it open and draws back behind the trellis of vines.]
CARLOMAN.
What has struck my eyes?
Is it the air, the sun, an open door?
Oh, it is dark with brightness, and half-blinds,
So rushing in! I would have been with God
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I would have seen it pushing its broad leaves
Through Chaos as it travelled!—
MARCOMIR.
[advancing]
I am come
To give you freedom.
CARLOMAN.
[seizing his hand like a boy]
Are the throstles fledged
I left within the orchard?
MARCOMIR.
They are gone . . .
Besides, we must not wander—recollect!
CARLOMAN.
I do; I was a goatherd on those hills
Before my punishment [pointing to the prison].
How sad you look! Come with me; I will show you
The flock of goats leaping from crag to crag—
And have you ever drunk their milk? It foams;
Its thousand little bubbles seem themselves
Full of an airy life, and in the smack
Of the warm draught something exhilarates
And carries one along. Come to the hills!
MARCOMIR.
Dear Carloman—
CARLOMAN.
These cloisters are so dull
Where you sit brooding morn and eve; beyond
One sees the clouds laying their restless fingers
Across the scaurs.
MARCOMIR.
But is that meditation,
And does one so find peace?
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The dew is there
In the green hollows; when I see those steeped
And shining fields, my heart fills to the brim,
And, though I yearn, my yearning satisfies.
Come with me: fast as I attain, with you
I share the secret.
MARCOMIR.
But you strike me dumb.
You have forgotten, we are bound by vows,
By our obedience.
CARLOMAN.
Are we bound by hopes,
By yesterday's lost hopes?
MARCOMIR.
But promises—
CARLOMAN.
I promised to be God's, ah yes, I promised,
As two on earth agree to be together
For evermore, vowed lovers. Is the marriage
In the companionship or in the vow?
Why, Geneviva is still vowed my wife.
MARCOMIR.
But we must keep our troth.
CARLOMAN.
We must escape
From anything that is become a bond,
No matter who has forged the chain,—ourselves,
An enemy, a friend: and this escape,
This readjustment is the penitence,
The sole that I will practise.
[looking more narrowly at Marcomir]
But your eyes
Are witheringly remorseful. One would say
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You, and not I. Open your heart to me.
MARCOMIR.
I hate you.
CARLOMAN.
Hate me, why? For heresy?
MARCOMIR.
No, for your blindness: think what you have done,
Think of . . . at least, think of your only child
Mewed within convent walls.
CARLOMAN.
There is escape.
MARCOMIR.
What, for a child?
CARLOMAN.
[clenching his hand]
Per Baccho, but my son
Shall never wear a tonsure.
MARCOMIR.
Time will prove!
You stand so free and noble in the light
Yet it is you who brought me to despair.
One cannot be a fool, one of God's fools,
Unconscious of the ill in others' hearts,
And not breed deadly mischief.
CARLOMAN.
I entreated
You would not come with me.
MARCOMIR.
You drew me on;
You cannot help it, you make life so royal
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And then—
CARLOMAN.
What ails you?
MARCOMIR.
Have you watched the lepers?
Waiting outside the churches to be blest?—
They pray, they linger, they receive their God,
And yet depart uncleansed.
Do not continue
To question me, but listen. Bend your eyes
Full on me! I have never told the Prior,
I cannot; and I would not breathe it now
But for her sake. The lady Geneviva
Is spotless; but my thoughts have been defiled.
I love her, I have never won her love,
Must never strive to win it. It is hell
To think of her.
CARLOMAN.
You never won her love?
MARCOMIR.
Never.
CARLOMAN.
She had so many favourites,
Poor boy! and you were thwarted.
MARCOMIR.
But her bond,
My deep disloyalty!
CARLOMAN.
No more of this—
MARCOMIR.
If I were in the world, it is to her
I should return.
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The doors are strongly barred:
There is no other hindrance.
MARCOMIR.
They are come
The brethren and the prior: you must kneel
And then be reinstated. I forgot.
[Enter Damiani and a number of monks.]
DAMIANI.
Brother, we have great joy in your release,
And hasten to embrace you. Own your fault
Submissively, then rise and take your place
In our rejoicing band.
CARLOMAN.
I will not kneel.
DAMIANI.
Respect your vow.
CARLOMAN.
But there is no such thing—
A vow! as well respect the case that sheathes
The chrysalis, when the live creature stirs!
We make these fetters for ourselves, and then
We grow and burst them. It is clear no man
Can so forecast the changes of his course
That he can promise so I will remain,
Such, and no other. Words like these are straws
The current plays with as it moves along.
DAMIANI.
My brethren, do not listen; he is mad.
CARLOMAN.
No, you are mad; you cannot see that Time
Is God's own movement, all that He can do
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Listen a little: is there one of you
Who looks upon the sunlight and the buds
That moss the vines in March, and does not feel
Now I am living with these changeful things;
The instant is so golden for us all,
And this is life? Think what the vines would be
If they were glued forever, and one month
Gave them a law—the richness that would cease,
The flower, the shade, the ripening. We are men,
With fourscore years for season, and we alter
So exquisitely often on our way
To harvest and the end. It must be so.
DAMIANI.
Is this what darkness and strict punishment
Have wrought in the corruption of your mind?
CARLOMAN.
I lay as seeds lie in the prison-house,
Dying and living—living evermore,
Pushed by a spark of time to join the hours,
To go along with them.
A MONK.
But, brother, this
Is overwhelming.
MARCOMIR.
Sin, can that be dropped?
CARLOMAN.
Never, there is no need. Life seizes all
Its own vile refuse, hurries it along
To something different; religion makes
The master-change, turning our black to white;
But so, as from earth's foulness, the stem drains
Corruption upward, and the cleanly flower
Waves like a flame at last.
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O Carloman,
My brother, I am saved!
[The monks press round Carloman tumultuously.]
CARLOMAN.
But all of you
Be saved, and on the instant! Yes, the prior,
You all of you, do not believe me mad.
It is your misery, I think, that more,
More than the urgent torment of my soul
Has brought me to the truth, the healing truth
That we must give our natures to the air,
To light and liberty, suppressing nothing,
Freeing each passion: we have slaves within,
So many slaves, and I have learnt that saints
Have dungeons that they dare not look into,
The horror is so deadly. Force the locks,
Let the fierce captives ravage. Better far
Murder and rapine in the city-streets,
Than lust and hatred's unfulfilled desires!
Be saved; strike free into the world—come out!
Oh, you can do it—I have spoken truth,
I see that by your faces.
OLD MONK.
[touching Damiani's shoulder]
Surely, prior,
We must arrest this traitor.
DAMIANI.
[in a whisper]
Half the brethren
Are in the chapel: I will bring them down
In mass on these insurgent novices.
[aloud]
Children, I leave you: wrestle with temptation;
I now can only aid you with my prayers.
When you have heard him through, decide; and either
Lead him in chains to me; or if his lies
Prevail with you, then put me in your prisons,
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[to Carloman]
Now do your worst
With your blaspheming tongue.
[Exit.]
OLD MONK.
We should be fools
To listen to him—it is mutiny;
And there are walled-up dungeons.
CARLOMAN.
No, the hills
For all, if all are reckless; it is just
The one that fears who is the traitor-foe
Imperilling brave men.
1st MONK.
But how break free?
CARLOMAN.
How? All of us march with a single mind
Making a strong procession from the gates.
2nd MONK.
The Church has soldiers: whither could we go
Unarmed and with an angry multitude . . .
1st MONK.
Whither?
3rd MONK.
Besides we are not of one mind
Now he stops preaching; it was like a spell.
4th MONK.
The heretic!
OLD MONK.
Tush! 'Tis the kind of frenzy
That seizes every novice. Carloman,
Will you not hear my voice?
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No, good old monk,
God's servants must not listen but to Him.
You have grown comfortable as the years
Rolled on,—no matter. What the novice suffers,
What every novice suffers, speak of that.
OLD MONK.
I have forgotten it.
CARLOMAN.
You can forget
What you have suffered; then 'tis waste of time
To listen to you. What we suffer once
In youth—in childhood and our secret youth,
We suffer to our grave.
[turning to another monk]
Have you forgotten?
1st MONK.
No, but the pain is numb, so long ago
My parents spoilt my life to have their will;
I must endure the best they could conceive,
And save their souls.
CARLOMAN.
If you should lose your own!
A curse on parents! The one truth that led me
To seek the cloister was my certitude
A man's existence lodges in himself
And is not owned by kindred.
OLD MONK.
Gently, brother,
You had your way, and made yourself a monk;
Now you are all for change—so is the world
For bitter change.
1st MONK.
My mistress has been married,
And would but laugh at me.
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Time works such wonders
If we will give him time to work them in.
1st MONK.
It is too late.
CARLOMAN.
A maxim for the dead.
It never is too late for any seeing,
For any recognition we are wrong.
It is a man's despair, not his confession
Proves him contemptible. Too late, you say,
Too late—but there are countries where 'tis spring
And harvest many times within the year.
Besides, we must not tarry in a place
The moments do not wash with dew; we wither,
Death has his secret will with us. Believe!
Act on the instant.
OLD MONK.
The high gates are barred,
And yonder is the Prior.
[Damiani, with Rachis and a large troop of monks, is seen coming from the Chapel.]
CARLOMAN.
The gates are strong;
But you and I and all of us can pass
Through them in simple triumph if we will—
With one consent.
Why, they are opening now!
How gloriously! Armed riders!
[Enter Astolph with a band of Lombard soldiers.]
MONKS.
Miracle!
A sign from God.
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Not one of you shall come.
What, flocking to my side because a door
Turns on its hinges—shame!
ASTOLPH.
Where's Carloman?
DAMIANI.
[advancing]
Who asks?
ASTOLPH.
The King of Lombardy.
Give place!
CARLOMAN.
My saviour!
ASTOLPH.
Are you Carloman the Frank?
I like you—yes, your face is eloquent.
You do not keep your eyes upon the ground,
Like this dear relative.
CARLOMAN.
[staring fixedly at Astolph]
You glitter so,
You glitter like the golden Vines, your hair
Is gold, your armour full of spokes and rays.
ASTOLPH.
And you are muffled in a sackcloth-bag;
The contrast strikes you.
[to Damiani]
Lunatic?
DAMIANI.
And worse—
A rebel, an apostate, noble prince,
For whom I bring these manacles.
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And I
An extra horse; for, lunatic or sane,
I must have speech with—
[turning to Carloman with a laugh]
Do you know your name?
We who are kings and soldiers know it well,
And Christendom remembers. Ah, I see!
You are not happy, so they call you mad.
RACHIS.
Have you no word for me? I am a King,
A King discrowned—and more, you have my crown.
Are you grown sick of it?
ASTOLPH.
My dear old Rachis,
Do not look covetous! I am not come
To take you from your prayers.
RACHIS.
You think you triumph,
But when you roll your thirsty tongue in hell,
And see me in the peace of Abraham's bosom,
Watching your pain—
ASTOLPH.
To every dog his day!
[with a shudder]
Ah, then—meanwhile there is a blowing wind,
And all the world to ravish . . . Carloman,
We are the brothers now . . . [to Damiani]
Yes, I and this
[Rachis sneaks off, hissing curses.]
Fraternal soul, your madman.
DAMIANI.
Do you need
An interview?
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I take it, thank you. Glance
A moment at my soldiers—and retire.
[They all withdraw.]
Come to the well, where we can sit and talk,
And I can have a draught.
[He looses his helmet and dips it in the well. Carloman puts both hands round it as soon as it is full of water.]
CARLOMAN.
Wait! [drinking]
Cool and strong!
That prison-stuff was stagnant. Sunshine's warmth,
The cool of water, how they both refresh!
[looking up with a smile]
Now, brilliant one, your business?
ASTOLPH.
Will you leave
The Monastery?
CARLOMAN.
At once.
ASTOLPH.
You have no terror?
You will not creep back, conscience in your nerves?
CARLOMAN.
Let me but pass the door.
ASTOLPH.
[laughing]
You see it swings.
I left it open.
CARLOMAN.
Then we start at once.
ASTOLPH.
[checking him]
No, stay a little. Are you still the friend
Of Zacharias?
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He is great.
ASTOLPH.
No doubt—
And most sagacious, for he seeks your brother
To win him with the bribe of sacred oil
As vassal and ally against myself.
I started here from Rome the hour I heard
That Zacharias had crept out by night
To travel northward and defeat my hopes.
You must arrive before him! I am come
Sure, from report, that you will help my cause,
You, who have been a ruler. I contend
No supernatural power should have control
Of lands and cities, troops and civil rights,
Matters distinct from God, as from the world
The service he requires. Life is so easy
If we will keep it human—quarrel, murder,
And then make friends: we have so short a time
To sin together . . . but this hate deferred,
These pestilential menaces!—
CARLOMAN.
The Pope
Shall never injure France!
ASTOLPH.
It lies with you
To break the threatened treaty. You have owned
Power over Pepin?
CARLOMAN.
Yes; tho' tardily,
He followed all my counsels.
ASTOLPH.
Ride, and stop
This treaty. If you ride you will forestall
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Will press the siege of Rome . . . you must not mind
The ache of stiffened muscles.
CARLOMAN.
Hills and plains
And trees—the olives, cypresses and vines;
Then France with nuts and poplars! But you keep me
In one great palpitation.
ASTOLPH.
Zacharias,
Besetting me from north and southward, crushes
My strongest forces. What a splendid thing
For the old man to travel in the heat
So far to work my ruin!
CARLOMAN.
But the world
Is for the young, my Astolph.
ASTOLPH.
Carloman,
I love you. Why, I feel a lad, eighteen,
When looking on you. Come, we two must kiss;
We may not burn together, flame in flame,
Again—so we must kiss.
CARLOMAN.
My blessed one,
Would I could cleave to you! You give me freedom,
A gift so rarely thought of.
ASTOLPH.
[calling a monk]
Fetch the Prior,
The brethren, now—this instant. We must start.
CARLOMAN.
Grant me beside the freedom for myself
Salvation for another.
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What, a monk
Still half of you! Such trouble for men's souls—
But have your wish. Once on the battlefield,
Men will become your prey. This solid jaw
Means grip you will not loose. O Carloman,
If I can circumvent the Pope, and then
Stretch him a bleeding quarry at my feet—
CARLOMAN.
What, Zacharias!
But I plead for France;
Popes must not meddle with her.
ASTOLPH.
[as the Prior and Monks re-enter]
I require
The services of Carloman: another
Whom he will choose attends him.
DAMIANI.
Impious wretch,
You steal from God His servants!
[Astolph laughs and moves up the courtyard to summon his men: Damiani and Rachis talk to each other; the monks listen in a scared group.]
CARLOMAN.
[drawing Marcomir to the front]
Marcomir,
Come from this graveyard.
MARCOMIR.
No, I must not come,
I dare not; she is yours.
CARLOMAN.
Is mine? You wrong her—
Not yours nor mine. Earth's wisdom will begin
When all relationships are put away,
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Curious, benignant, with a great compassion
Into each other's lives.
MARCOMIR.
It is not so
I look; I have a lust to gratify,
A lust for very shame I loathe to mix
With Geneviva's image.
CARLOMAN.
Faugh! because
You think that I possess her! Cursed bonds,
Cursed law that makes this riot in the heart!
Come forth; all will be gentle out of doors.
Gird up your habit.
MARCOMIR.
She?—
CARLOMAN.
Is but herself,
O Marcomir, we tarry—and the leaves
Are tossing through the air—
[Astolph throws his scarlet riding-cloak over Carloman, who seizes Marcomir with an impetuous movement and draws him toward the horses that champ at the gate.]
| In The Name of Time | |