University of Virginia Library

ACT II.

Scene I.

—The Palace of the Cæsars.
Nicephorus.
Priests are even all but Kings, and would be Kings
But that the diadem disdains bald crowns.
That snake engendered amid Rome's green ruins,
The inheritor of Satan's pomp and pride,
At whose fierce hiss the royal Henry shook
An Emperor excommunicate, and bowed
His haughty spirit, after three days' fast,
To walk barefooted to Canusio's gates
Most abject in submission—that proud priest
Is imitated here: but I can spurn
Their interdicts, and call my crown my own,
Seeing their schism doth comminute their power.
Is no one there? What, Corius! Lazer! Ho!
Enter Attendant.
Comes not our reverend Lord the Patriarch yet?

Attendant.
Not yet, my Liege.

Nicephorus.
Ha! what hast got beneath thine upper vest?
Here, here; 'tis steel!

Attendant.
The star you bade me wear.

Nicephorus.
Ay, true—the star—thou hast deserved it well.
The Patriarch, as I think, is past his hour;
The moon should rise at eight and we should see her
But that the horizon's cloudy; yon's her light;
What says the Persian water-clock? How now!
There's dust upon thy sandals! where hast been?

Attendant.
You sent me for my Lord the Patriarch, Sire.

Nicephorus.
Ay, true, 'twas thou; a trusty knave thou art.
What's doing in the streets?

Attendant.
Sire, here and there
The people gather and invoke the death
Of Count Comnenus and reproach his house
For all the ills they suffer.

Nicephorus.
Why, so let them.
What, saw'st thou nought of the other faction, ha?

Attendant.
My Liege, there's none can see them; they're so few
And cowardly they dare not venture forth.

Nicephorus.
Well: let me know the hour.
[Exit Attendant.
They may be few,
But whether cowardly demands a doubt.
There never was a kingdom but comprised
Some thousands of bold men that hate the King,
Whom in some kingdoms there are none to love;
And of these thousands one life sacrificed
In killing of this King would quench the hate,
The smouldering hate that burns these bosoms black.
Now, it is strange that men hang, burn, and drown
For love, religion, pride, I know not what,—
Cast away life for very wantonness,—
Yet of these thousands you shall not find one
Will dare an instant death and slay the King.
And through the lack of this one instrument
Innocuous malice lies a coiled-up snake
Through life till toothless age. What threatens me
Is not a general hatred; 'tis the growth
Which year by year a lengthened puissance breeds
Of checked ambition and exasperate will;
For who reigns long must needs wear out the hopes
And baulk the aims of many. Yet are these
By prosperous suitors shackled . . .

Enter Attendant.
Attendant.
Please my Liege,
The Patriarch has arrived.

Nicephorus.
At last. Admit him.
And some are yet more hated than they hate;
Careless withal, incautious, eating, drinking,
Sporting and sleeping like a Goth or Frank
After a victory. Then why this fear?
Here is the Church too, glad to change with me
And hug my burthen. Be it so! Amen!
For Kings should never seem to be men's foes,
There being always some to take that part
Whose malice, seeming to be bridled in,
Is spurred the while and chafes with neck high-arched,
Till, once let go, it gallops to its goal,
And hath the scandal for its guerdon fair.
Thus with this headstrong priest, in extreme age
Fiercer and fierier—
Enter Patriarch.
Most reverend Lord,
We give you hearty welcome.

Patriarch.
May the host
Of heaven in all good thoughts preserve the King!

Nicephorus.
I sent for you through pressure of some ills
That weigh but heavily on ourself and state.
How is't, my Lord, that in our sovereign seat
We cannot rest in peace for slaves and monks
Careering through the streets from morn till night?

Patriarch.
How is it, say you, Sire? Why thus it is,
Yea, thus it is; the sovereign arm is weak,
The sovereign heart is palsied, and the Church,
Reft of her strength thereby, is trampled down.
How is it? look abroad—Time, crippled sore,
Hath lost his footing and slid back three ages.
Behold! the spirit of Isaurian Leo,
Accursed heresiarch! is forth and fighting.

Nicephorus.
Ay, ay, my Lord, since first she found a voice
In Paul of Tarsus, still the Church hath cried
That heresies are growing; yet she thrives
From age to age, till crowns but hang on crosiers.

Patriarch.
Yea, doth she thrive? and from her very walls
The images of her most glorious saints
Down shivered into shards; her ministers
By every uncommunicating slave
Laughed unto scorn! yea, thriving call you this?
Then take thou heed, for by the bones of Basil
The Empire and the Church shall thrive alike.

Nicephorus.
Be temperate, priest.

Patriarch.
I tell thee, monarch, when the crosier bends,
The sceptre breaks; and I will tell thee more;
'Twere better for thy temples to have worn
The iron crown in Lombardy, than here
Thy golden diadem and tarnished thus.

Nicephorus.
What wouldst thou have? Truly 'tis aid I need,
Not admonition. Seek I not an end
To all these troubles, or did I begin them?
Or can I with a heartier will consult
For compassing their cure?

Patriarch.
Tis well, my Liege;
The Church shall aid with her maternal arm,
Propping her aged servant at his task.
I am gone in years, my Liege, am very old,
Coreless and sapless, weak, and needs must crave
Support of secular force, else had this sore
Not grown upon us thus. It is not well
When that the Church and State divide their power
And carp upon the difference. In my youth
I can remember, old as I may be,
I sojourned at the convent of St. Anne
In the Hercynian forest; and one night
There was a storm abroad, and forth I went
Along with it, and roaming through the wood
I saw an aged oak which groaned and creaked
And flung its arms aloft, whereof the nearest
Ground each into the other till both fell
Sawn thorough sheer; and this I likened then
To Nebuchadnezzar's tree of monarchy—
But I am wandering; 'tis mine age's weakness.

Nicephorus.
I grant you, holy father, that for us
To be at strife, is but for each to waste
The strength that each hath need of. But the Church,
The Church it is Count Isaac hath assailed,
And if her champions strike not, how should I?

Patriarch.
Speak but the word, the blow shall follow fast.
I will abet your majesty in all,
So it be sudden. Whatsoe'er is feared
In states is dangerous. The man is bold,
His friends are many, and it were not safe
That warning went before.

Nicephorus.
Yes, more than bold.
There is in him a carelessness of life
Which ofttimes betters care.

Patriarch.
In him I grant;
Not in his friends and followers. All they have
Of courage falters seeing him removed.

Nicephorus.
Removed—removed; but how?

Patriarch.
With gracious speed
And godly prudence; swift and therefore sure.
Let but a whisper of a threat be heard
And you shall see him desperate and his friends
By very fear compacted and compelled
To follow where his frenzied boldness bids.
Who then shall answer for the issue?

Nicephorus.
Well
What wouldst thou counsel—exile? interdict?

Patriarch.
Commit him to the power of Mother Church;
Call we a Synod, cite we the Count forthwith
To answer for his sacrilege.

Nicephorus.
What! now?

Patriarch.
Now, now, I say; the time is fitting; thus
Surprise shall bar resistance or escape.
The measure of his wickedness filled full
We take him in the surfeit of his sins—
The deadly surfeit and the doom.

Nicephorus.
So, so;
'Tis sudden, but I hardly may deny
That ofttimes what is sudden is more safe
Than what is slow. Thy counsel shall be mine,
And may God speed it!

Patriarch.
That He surely shall.
Despatch a guard; arrest the Count; meanwhile
A Synod shall be summoned.

Nicephorus.
And the award?
What dost thou purpose?

Patriarch.
That is for the Church
Assembled to adjudge: the sinner thou
Deliverest to her hands; the rest is hers;
And she will purge her sanctuary.

Nicephorus.
'Tis just.
Yet bear in mind that nothing has been proved
Of treasonable sort, and lacking proof,
I burthen not my conscience with his blood;
Nor of his following, till their guilt be clear,
Would I take life too hastily.

Patriarch.
My Liege,
Know you not there are maladies in men
Which in their rise were easy to be cured
Were they but known; whereof when clear become
The diagnostics, difficult is the cure.
For treason timely treatment: be content:
This is an issue that concerns the Church,
Which sleeps not and will take her torch in hand.

Nicephorus.
Order it so. My crown these last few years
Hath pressed some furrows in my brow which else
Time had been tardier with. It lightens me
To have a friend like thee, in whom I trust.

Patriarch.
God have your majesty in His safe keeping!
An hour will bring us hither.

Nicephorus.
In an hour
The culprit shall attend you! God be with thee!

Scene II.

—The Palace of the Comneni. The board spread as for a feast. Macrinus, Numerian, and others. Leaders and Soldiers of the faction dressed as revellers, musicians, attendants, etc. Arms appear occasionally underneath the dresses.
Enter Comnenus.
Comnenus.
What! friends, the board is spread, and ye abide
The coming of the host? Much grieved is he
His noble guests should wait. But how is this?
Rich smell the viands; whence these grave regards?

Macrinus.
My Lord, we have not all the art, like you,
To cast aside perplexities and cares:
But though our looks be grave, our hearts are staunch.

Comnenus.
Well, then we'll all be grave. Be seated, friends:
But pledge me first in this; 'tis Samian wine,
And of the innermost; it quickens counsel,
And makes it bolder, which with us is better.
Your toast, Sir; you are practised much in toasts.

Numerian.
I am, Sir, and in things of more concern.
“The double dyeing of the royal purple.”

Comnenus.
I pledge not that: we're drinking wine, not blood.
Success to us: say nothing of the rest.
[They drink.
My Lord Macrinus—to the head of the board;
I shall be but a listener.

Macrinus.
Sir, I thank you;
But there are worthier of that place than I.

Comnenus.
None, none, Macrinus, that I know of, none;
And if there be they'll pardon me the choice.
Sit close about the board and speak not loud.

[They sit.
1st Leader.
My Lord, my thought
Was humbly this; that could we seize some post
Within the walls, 'twould profit more our cause;
Since flight doth alway with the vulgar sort
Give token of defeat or loss, and thence
Their spirits swell with triumph.

2nd Leader.
But, my Lord,
In my mind it were good they do thus swell;
For as despair may oft avert men's ruin,
So causeless exultation brings it on;
The one emboldening reason, the other folly.

3rd Leader.
Besides, supposing we could win this post,
'Twould make the times of action cross; for look,—
Wait we your brother's coming, we're too late;
The news is theirs as soon as ours; not wait,
And should he be delayed, we're premature;
For you'll observe, my Lord . . .

Comnenus.
Enough, enough;
I see your point, Sir, and I hold it good.

1st Leader.
Yet, Sir, there are some reasons we o'er-look . . .

Comnenus.
There are, Sir, many; which I overpass,
Not wholly overlook; for should I stop
To weigh the grains of reason one by one
We are to gather and glance o'er, good Sir,
'Twould hold us here till morning; not to add,
That so we multiply the chance of error.
We'll hold this matter, with your leave, arranged.

1st Leader.
My Lord, you would not pass Numerian's toast,
Yet would I deem it over-lenity
To spare another's blood and stake our own.
One death or ere the strife began, my Lord,
Might save some thousands.

Comnenus.
But not salve the sin.
My friends, God knows too lenient am I not,
And to my nature 'tis less opposite
To be the cause whereby a thousand bleed
Than purposely kill one to save the rest;
And there is reason for it, howe'er we gloze.
This once for all, him hold I a false friend,
(Which signifies I hold him worse than foe,)
Who strikes at any life save in fair fight.

Enter Attendant.
Attendant.
Sir, there's one waiting at the gate to see you.

Comnenus.
One—what one, who?

Attendant.
I know not, Sir; he's muffled in his cloak,
In fashion more a Latin than a Greek.

Comnenus.
My friends, await me there within.

Macrinus.
You're armed?

Comnenus.
From head to foot.

[They withdraw.
Enter Theodora.
Comnenus.
When I shall know my guest to be a friend,
I'll give him welcome.

Theodora.
You may give it then.
[Discovering herself.
You might have known her for a friend long since,
She proffers you but one proof more.

[Giving her hand.
Comnenus.
A fair one.

Theodora.
You well may wonder, and I think you do,
Although you show it not.

Comnenus.
Not much; not much;
Ten years are gone since I have felt surprise
Save at my own existence and the stars.

Theodora.
If not surprise, what else then can you feel?
Oh Count, I ask it not in bitterness,
But can you see me here, almost, I own,
A supplicant—me, me a supplicant—
A woman and a princess at thy feet
Beseeching thee—

Comnenus.
Oh, say no more—stop there.

Theodora.
Beseeching thee to save thyself and me,
And feel nor pity, gratitude, nor love?
Thy life thou scarce canst deem so little worth
As I do mine; but it is worse than death
To bear a dead heart in a living body;
And when I tell thee death is at thy door,
The doom pronounced, the warrant out, the axe
Already in the headsman's hand, I say
Not only fly from death, but waken life
In thy dead heart. Be but a living man
And we will fly together.

Comnenus.
Princess, no—
It cannot be; but yet misjudge me not;
I am not reckless, as you think, of life;
I am not thankless, as you think, for love:
Your countrymen, the Thracians, held of old
Their counsels o'er their cups in night carouse,
Perpending them next morn: even such has been
My session of to-night. My head, I think,
Will keep the headsman waiting. For my heart,
It is a sad and solitary heart,—
So sad that it must needs be solitary,—
And though not dead, disordered unto death,
And though not thankless, pitiless, or proud,
Yet inaccessible to love.

Theodora.
Then, Count,
Know that I hold thy head from this time forth
As worthless as thy heart—and weak and fond
And tender as I would have been and was,
Or e'er these drops are dried upon my cheek
I'll see it rolling bloodily in the dust
With triumph and with joy. Till then, farewell.

Comnenus.
It is but in thy passion and thy heat
Thou speak'st so wilderedly.

Enter Attendants.
1st Attendant.
My Lord—

2nd Attendant.
My Lord—

Comnenus.
Soft! see you not this lady? One at once.

1st Attendant.
Sir, the Varangian guard is at the gate,
With two officials of the Church.

Comnenus.
What say they?

1st Attendant.
They claim admittance on a royal writ,
Citing you to attend a Synod.

Comnenus.
Good.
Admit them.

1st Attendant.
What! the Churchmen, Sir?

Comnenus.
Ay, all;
Open the gates; let all who will come in.
Thou staring idiot, do my bidding; go.
[Exit First Attendant.
Here, Porgius—thy wit runs deeper—hark!
When all are in, look that the gates be shut.
[Exit Second Attendant.
And, Macer, call Macrinus hither. See!
[Exit Third Attendant.
Your warning, Lady, would have come but late.

Enter Macrinus.
Comnenus
(meeting and speaking aside to him).
Macrinus, we have talked enough. Thou seest
The wordy time is past.

Macrinus.
Indeed, my Lord,
This end was little looked for.

Comnenus.
Not the less
I bid it welcome. They but give their hands
To fashion our devices. As they will.
Make speed, Macrinus, to the southern gate
With but such numbers as may make it sure
Yet not alarm the town; close by it stands
The cloister of St. Conon; send some friend
To bid my sister and my cousin there
Hie them to sanctuary. Within an hour,
If all be well, I mean to pass the gate.
That will not press you?

Macrinus
Ample time, my Lord.

Comnenus.
Send Hertius round to draw our scattered friends
To the same spot,—within the hour. Till then
I will amuse the Emperor and his court.

Macrinus.
But for these guards?

Comnenus.
Hark! now they pass the gates.
When all are in, disarm and bind them. Yes,
They shall along with me, by their good leave.
[Exit Macrinus.
Your father's action, Princess, with a bound
O'ertakes our tardy talk.

Theodora.
So sudden! oh,
So madly sudden! Count, there still is time—
Say you recall the past—say you repent,—
And I may yet find means—

Comnenus.
Nor now nor ever
Will I make bargains for a lady's love.
Enter Two Apparitors.
What is your errand, Sirs?—say on; no form.

1st Apparitor.
Lord Count, our errand is to take thee hence
By virtue of this power.

Comnenus.
Nay, keep the scroll;
Your tone's so lofty you must needs have powers.
But should I ask indulgence for an hour
To be prepared?

2nd Apparitor.
My Lord, it cannot be.
The conclave waits.

Comnenus.
Ay, doth it? then I come.
I pray you first to pledge me in this wine:
'Tis juice might soften Churchmen.

1st Apparitor.
No, my Lord:
Our orders are to bear with no delay.

Comnenus.
To bear with none!
[A disturbance without.
Oh! be at ease, Sirs: hark!
'Tis but disputes between my guards and yours
Which shall become my escort to the court.

Enter Attendant.
Attendant.
My Lord, your orders are obeyed.

Comnenus.
'Tis well.
Confine these Churchmen in the cells below.

1st Apparitor.
My Lord, beware how you maltreat the Church.

Comnenus.
We leave them there, and on our march be sure
No voice be heard nor any leave their ranks.

1st Apparitor.
I say, the thunders of the Church shall peal
Against this outrage—

2nd Apparitor.
Hush! it will but goad him;
'Tis plain he's master.

Comnenus.
Order thus the march:
The royal guard within, unarmed and bound,
My own surrounding them, myself will lead,—
This lady with me. Now, Sirs, we must part.
[To the Apparitors.
Keep your own secret: it is safe with me.

[To Theodora.
1st Apparitor.
Lord Count—

Comnenus.
Nay, on, Sirs; you will suffer nought
Save mild restraint till morning.

2nd Apparitor.
God be praised!

Comnenus
(to Theodora).
Give me your hand. Not so?
then walk by me,
And doubt not my protection. You came here
In no such friendly guidance. There— [As they go out]
—just so.
All as I wished, Macrinus: fling the gates wide,
And sound the trumpets of the Royal Guard.
Out, out, friends, out.

Scene III.

—A Hall in the Palace, where many Ecclesiastics are assembled in Synod. The Emperor is seated on a throne at the further end of a table, at which are also seated the Patriarch, the Bishop of Trebizond, the Bishop of Nicomedia, the Synodal Secretary, and other Dignitaries. In front the Bishops of Heraclea and Philippopolis are conversing in an undertone and are joined by the Bishop of Cæsarea.
Bishop of Heraclea.

Methinks the time is long.

Bishop of Philippopolis.

It passeth heavily, and truly 'tis heavy laden.

Bishop of Cœsarea.

I heard our brother of Trebizond whispering the Patriarch of an idle rumour that the
heretics were found watching and had overpowered the Royal Guard.

Bishop of Heraclea.

At such times there are ever such rumours.

Bishop of Cœsarea.

Hark!—no; 'tis nothing. Is not the Emperor paler than his wont?

Bishop of Heraclea.

He is as white as an almond tree in June.

Bishop of Cæsarea.

And our brother of Trebizond?

Bishop of Heraclea.

There's no more blood in his face than in this crucifix.

Patriarch.

What is your talk, my Lords? Speak out, speak out: there be no laics here. Speak freely out.

Bishop of Cæsarea.

Do thou make answer.

Bishop of Heraclea.

Most holy father, we spake how that this heretic hath tarried long.

Patriarch.
He cometh late to judgment; yea, too late.
Long-suffering are the delegates of heaven;
Abounding they in mercy and in grace:
So judgment followeth sin with stealing steps.
Too late—too late.

Emperor
(to one of the Ecclesiastics).

Send some one
forth to look if they be coming.

[Exit Ecclesiastic.
Patriarch.

I say we're all too late. Hast written out the award?

The Secretary.

Holiest father, it is here.

Patriarch.

We'll have it signed at once. First to his Majesty, and then the rest.

Emperor.

Not me, not me; the thing concerns not me.

Patriarch.

Well, well, here's warranty enough without.

[Signs.
So—pass it to my Lord of Trebizond.

Bishop of Trebizond.

Must I sign first?

Patriarch.

At once, my Lord, and pass it.

Bishop of Heraclea
(aside to the Bishop of Cæsarea).

Mark you how the style trembles in his hand.

The Secretary.

My Lord, you're writing on the written part: The space is here.

Bishop of Trebizond.

My eyesight fails me: here,—I see, I see.

Enter an Attendant.
Emperor.
Thine errand?
We waive the adorations, speak thine errand.

Attendant.
The Royal Guard is entering the gates.

Emperor.
'Tis well, right well.
Let them bring up the prisoner.

Patriarch.
Bring him up.
Most reverend Lords, we pray you take your seats.

Enter another Attendant in haste.
Attendant.

'Tis not the Royal Guard; 'tis the Comnenians: they have passed the gates, Count Isaac at
their head.

Emperor.

Great God! then all is lost! Where is the Cæsarissa?

Bishop of Trebizond.

We shall be murdered all!

Bishop of Cæsarea.

We're martyrs doomed.

Bishop of Heraclea.

Yea, verily the hour is come, and we are called and chosen.

[During these exclamations the Hall has filled with Officers of State and Attendants crowding in confusedly.
Patriarch.
Silence, my Lords, what craven cries be these?
Your Majesty will please send some one forth
To draw your forces from the suburbs round.
I tell you take your seats. Ho! God is great!
His Church is mighty, and that might have we.
I say, bring up the Count.

Several voices.
He's coming up.

Patriarch.
I say, then, let him come.

Enter Comnenus, who walks to the foot of the table, the crowd falling back on either side.
Comnenus.
I'm here to answer to your summons.

Patriarch.
Lo!
Almighty God is present in His Church!
His Church is present here!
How hast thou dared then to profane this presence
By coming here in arms? Give up thy sword.

[Comnenus ungirds his sword and flings it on the table.
Comnenus.
(after some pause).
What would ye have with it that cannot use it?
My Lords, you trifle with me; here am I
Brought by your midnight summons from my house,
And ye have nought to say. Ye do but mock me.

Patriarch.
We mock thee not: 'tis thou that mock'st high Heaven.
Thou'rt summoned here on many an ugly count
Of sacrilege and heresy and schism,
Which so thou answer'st not and clear'st thy fame,
We shall, in due acquittance of our trust,
Pronounce the interdict from fire and water
And cut thee off from Christian fellowship.

Comnenus.
My Lords, or e'er ye shall inhibit me,
From fire and water, have it you in charge
I cut not off yourselves from earth and air.
My Lords, this world is not so all your own
That ye can grant away the elements
Amongst your friends, and lock one moiety up
From them that like you not. Ye kneel and pray
That God will make you humble as the dust,
Then, rising, arrogate omnipotence
And shake the ashes from your shaven crowns.
But I ere long will teach you how to stoop
In veriest lowliness and know yourselves.

Patriarch
(holds up the cross and pronounces the adjuration, “Ecce crucem Domini! fugite partes adversæ!”)
A man possessed—'tis Sathan speaks, not he!
The father of lies hath spoken by his mouth.
An exorcist for this demoniac straight
To disenchant his body of the fiend!
Avaunt! avaunt!

Comnenus.
Ay, echo cries “Avaunt!”
Ye charge your own malignancy on me.
A demonocracy of unclean spirits
Hath governed long these Synods of your Church,
The Antichrist foretold: and I am he
Who, in the fulness of the approaching time,
Will exorcise you all. Expect my coming.

[Exit.
[A short silence ensues, during which several persons who had followed Comnenus re-enter, exclaiming, “The Count is gone!”
Patriarch.
Thy wrath go with him, God!

Emperor.
I hear the sound of horses' feet afar;
The city force is out—he cannot stay;
He will abscond and seek support abroad.
Let every tribune hie him to his charge.
The prefects and the eparchs will resort
To the Bucoleon with what speed they may,
And there I'll meet them. Each man to his charge.

Patriarch
(to the Bishops).
Soldiers of God and militants supern!
Fight the good fight! on us devolves the charge
To fulminate the judgments of the Church;
And on the morn, before Sophia's shrine,
Shall this high charge be solemnly fulfilled.
Let every Churchman now assembled here
Attend and share the office.—You may go.

Scene IV.

—Precincts of the Palace.—A Eunuch of the Imperial Household and an Exorcist.
Exorcist.

He is gone, then?

Eunuch.

Gone! he galloped out of the town as if he had ten thousand Devils in him.

Exorcist.

Well, I am glad he is gone before I came, for to say the truth he is ill to deal with.

Eunuch.

But thou couldst exorcise him?

Exorcist.

Oh! if we come to the matter of science, an evil spirit is no more in one man than in another.

Eunuch.

But tell me, I beseech thee, which saint is the most powerful for freeing the demoniacs?

Exorcist.

That is, look you, according as they are obsessed or possessed; and also according to the order
of the spirit: now for the abruption of evil spirits of
Belphegor's or the ninth order, St. George of Cappadocia
is your only saint. I have known him bring the Devil
clean out of a man's body before ever he knew him to
have been there.

Eunuch.

Ay, indeed!

Exorcist.

Yes; and you may remember Anthemius the Eparch, who was possessed of Leviathan and caused a
dropsy in the Emperor's daughter. I never had a more
obstinate spirit to deal with in all my experience.

Eunuch.

But you succeeded?

Exorcist.

I bless God, by the help of St. George, to say nothing of my own secret receipt for suffumigation,

I brought him fairly out at last, and her Highness was
cured.

Eunuch.

But did she not relapse in the space of a year or so.

Exorcist.

Relapse? Yes, she did relapse; for, look you, there's nothing sneaks back into a man's body so
soon as your villanous evil spirit.

Eunuch.

But Anthemius has not troubled you lately?

Exorcist.

No; the Emperor sent him to the prisons of Lethe on the other side of the water, and the word went
he was strangled.

Eunuch.

So he was, for certain.

Exorcist.

What was it for, then?

Eunuch.

Some idle tongues spake how that all was not as it should be between him and the Princess; but
what plainly appeared against him was, that he stole
the hood of a Benedictine Friar from his cell after eleven
o'clock at night, and being afterwards at the Sabbath of
evil spirits and magicians, did there put it upon Satan's
head, saying, “hoc honore dignus es,” in contempt of
St. Benedict and his holy order.

Exorcist.

God's mercy! it was time he was put out of the way! what will not a man do when once he is
maleficated.

Eunuch.

Ay; and who could bring him round without your help?—Come, we are friends, tell us some of the
secrets of your craft.

Exorcist.

There be things whereon we discourse to

our friends, and there be things where on we hold our
peace.

Eunuch.

Nay but—

Exorcist.

Mark me. There is an inside and an outside to everything. There is a virtue in silence, and
that virtue is discretion, which is the virtue that holds
a man back from babbling. Again—he that saith
nothing doth wisely, for what he knows is more than
you know.

Eunuch.

By St. Peter that is true, and I will seek no further.

Exorcist.

Nevertheless, as it is thou that hast inquired of me touching this matter, I will say somewhat;
for the man that has nothing to say to his friend is too
wise for this world.

Eunuch.

Thou art a true friend to say so.

Exorcist.

Attend then: when the demoniac is brought before you, the first thing is to make sure that he is
bonâ fide possessed: for which end you shall look for the Devil's mark in the form of a hare's foot; and when
you find it, run a lancet half an inch into the flesh; if
the man cries out, it is a mere certainty he is possessed.
The next thing is to bless the instruments, which are
four; that is, water, incense, salt, and oil. Water is
twofold; that is, first, water of ablution, and second,
water of aspersion. Water of ablution is sevenfold; that
is, first—

Eunuch.

But tell us the manner of it.

Exorcist.

The manners of it are three; there is the præexorcization, the exorcization, and the
postexorcization. The præexorcizations are fifteen; that is—

Eunuch.

Nay, I see it is past my understanding. But only tell me this,—how do you get the Devil out of a woman?

Exorcist.

You've gravelled me there; if once the Devil gets into a woman—

Eunuch.

But you told me but now, speaking of her Highness—

Exorcist.

Why look you, the Devils that have to do with women are two,—the Incubi and Succubi; now for
the Incubi—

[Trumpets without.
Eunuch.

Hark! the troops are gathering; that is the Imperial march; they are coming this way: we must be
gone.

Exorcist.

I fear some bloodshed will come of this.

Eunuch.

I care not what comes of it; nothing new to this city, we may be sure.

Exorcist.

No, unless it were peace and quietness, which I much mistrust. Farewell; shame the Devil
and renounce his works, and thou wilt never have need
of my craft.

Eunuch.

Easier to keep him out than to cast him out,if I know anything of it. Farewell.