Faith's Fraud A Tragedy in Five Acts |
 | 1. |
| 1. |
| 2. |
| 3. | SCENE III. |
| 4. |
| 5. |
| 2. |
| 1. |
| 2. |
| 3. |
| 4. |
| 5. |
| 6. |
| 7. |
| 3. |
| 1. |
| 2. |
| 3. |
| 4. |
| 5. |
| 6. |
| 4. |
| 1. |
| 2. |
| 3. |
| 4. |
| 5. |
| 1. |
 | Faith's Fraud |  |
103
SCENE III.
Chamber in the Castle.Rudestein, Screitch, and Barbara.
BARBARA.
They should make haste who wait upon her hence.
My lady's thread runs fine almost to breaking:
She cannot tarry past a week.
SCREITCH.
Who says so?
BARBARA.
I, and the doctors too.
SCREITCH.
She slept last night?
BARBARA.
Ay, and is brisk upon her feet to day—
But may not bide. Now for the blacker sort:
Your bread-and-butter sprites are all set down.
Canst reckon me the adverse part as truly?
Such as do love combustion, vexing peace—
Rudestein—hobgoblins, mischief-machinists,
Who twist unstable things, like me, awry?
Or must these pass unnumbered to the priests?
Was Pythius such?
SCREITCH.
And Merazin, and Circe:
Some count their several nations up to nine.
Psellus makes six alone beneath the moon;
But leaves the Manes out, and doubts the Lamiæ:
Gazæus says they swarm.
BARBARA.
Has any seen them?
SCREITCH.
By his confession, Paracelsus oft.
Agrippa's dog had one of them. All these
Are ill to know, and worse the Succubæ.
Most water-devils bear a foul report.
Wood-nymphs are milder natured, Folliotts, Trulli,
And some think Pan—but I judge otherwise.
There needs no priest to deal with these.
104
Who else?
Couldst thou suffice?
SCREITCH.
I might.
BARBARA.
They yield to words?
SCREITCH.
Ay, so we speak with potency, they do.
BARBARA.
What thinkest thou, Rudestein?
RUDESTEIN.
Partly like Gazæus—
That earth, at least, is one great hive of fools.
Hog's eyes I lack, and cannot view the wind—
The swarms I see I credit.
BARBARA.
Nothing more?
RUDESTEIN.
Scarcely so much at all times, simple one!
BARBARA.
Thou shalt be burnt!
RUDESTEIN.
For what?
BARBARA.
For heresy.
RUDESTEIN.
My faith is pure and steadfast, Bab, to thee.
BARBARA.
Dost not believe the privilege of thine house?
RUDESTEIN.
One half I do.
BARBARA.
Which half?
RUDESTEIN.
That we shall die.
It ever has been so at Rolandseck—
The privilege is no narrow one:—being called,
That we shall die—not called, shall cease to live.
BARBARA.
How then?
105
Ask Screitch.
SCREITCH.
All wiser men believe it.
BARBARA.
Believe they what?—that whoso dies the last
Returns for him that is to die—is it so?
RUDESTEIN.
I wave the privilege of mine house! The last
May let me live forgotten.
SCREITCH.
So he will;
Or pretermit. The good are visited,
And by the good—none else.
RUDESTEIN.
Why wait for guides,
Whose road runs straight enough?
SCREITCH.
They need them not:
But pass the happier to their place of rest,
Being welcomed on the threshold. Such as thou
Are outlaws from the charter of their blood;
And grope their downward passage in the dark,
Jostled by fear.
BARBARA.
There is a prophesy;
Three called, and one called thrice, shall be the last?
SCREITCH.
Three called—the last before the first is buried—
Shall leave the roofs of Rolandseck in ashes.
RUDESTEIN.
This ends our line! We must provide against it
Both sons and daughters, Barbara—thou and I.
SCREITCH.
Thy father died unblessed.
BARBARA.
Peace! What be these
My lady looks so long for?—sensible sprites,
Or airy substances?
RUDESTEIN.
How dost thou name them?
The souls of our progenitors, or shades
That ape their likenesses?
106
Canst answer him?
How teach the books?
RUDESTEIN.
Mark, Bab!
BARBARA.
What, not know that!
RUDESTEIN.
His well of learning is drawn dry!
BARBARA.
Fie, Screitch!
SCREITCH.
Each is a Soul's Eidolon—now art answered?
RUDESTEIN.
Ay verily! Thou dost exceed thy teachers;
Thyself being what thou teachest.
(Exit Rudestein.)
BARBARA.
Get thee gone!
How near a fool he seemed, and yet escapes!
SCREITCH.
I fain would kiss thee, Bab, for speaking that.
BARBARA.
A Soul's Eidolon! foh! the saints forbid!
Good sooth not I—first clear thyself.
SCREITCH.
Of what?
BARBARA.
How should a man have grown so free with marvels?
A christian man with Succubæ and Fawns?
I doubt this learning, if it all came straight.
There was a maid, they say, who lived near Treves,
Till married with some doctor from abroad,
Whose eldest son had horns!
SCREITCH.
And not the doctor?
BARBARA.
These might have been inherited, past doubt:
But strange in such a child!
(Exeunt.)
| Faith's Fraud | |