SELMA-- I'll not cry any more.
I'll be gay, Father, if you let me go.
(_She turns and looks questioningly at Rudolph,
who nods to her. Then, skipping forward, she
takes hold of the hilt of her father's sword
and steadies herself with it as they go down
the slope._)
CONRAD--Come back and have a woodcock.
(_Rudolph walks back._)
FRITZ-- There he goes. (_Shouting._)
O Canzler!
CONRAD-- He don't hear you.
RUDOLPH-- Who?
CONRAD-- The Priest.
RUDOLPH--Which way is he?
FRITZ-- Riding down toward town.
(_Rudolph joins the others, and the three stand
looking off left._)
CONRAD-- (_Directing Rudolph._)
Up that way from the Abbey.
FRITZ-- I bet he's been
Back to see Hartzel. (_Shouting._) Canzler!
CONRAD-- He can't hear.
_SCENE TWO--The courtyard of the abbey, as in Scene three
of the second act. The large crucifix which was seen in
the forest in the first Act is fixed above the door of_
_the chapel. On either side of the door is a stained glass_
_window, the farther one depicting the Transfiguration, the
nearer one, the legend of St. Giles. The deer with blood
dripping from a wound in its haunch stands behind the
saint who holds in his hand an arrow with blood upon its
tip. The emporer and his huntsmen are presenting the saint
with golden cups. The deer is watching them. Several rude
benches of stone are ranged alongside of the dormitory.
In the rear, about ten feet back from the building, a low
stone wall extends across, passing behind the dormitory on
the one side and the chapel on the other. To the left, far
back, is seen the side of the mountain on which the abbey
stands. The upper part is thickly wooded, and below, where
the timber is sparse, a road winds down the cliff to the
village. Farther down, the slope becomes more precipitous
and is covered with bowlders and stunted evergreens, some
of which have been broken off by rocks tumbling from the
cliff above. Off to the right, a space of sky with the
snow-peaks flashing in the sunlight. To the left in the
last Scene, they are now far to the right._
_From a door in the dormitory facing the court, Ely and_
_Pierre enter. The former has a hunting horn suspended from
his shoulder by a chain, and in his hand a small wooden
crucifix. Pierre carries two large silver candelabra. They
come out talking._
ELY--For he was old and he had come four miles.
PIERRE--A cripple too! When was this?
ELY-- Yesterday.
And when I showed him this and said: "Good man,
Here is a rood he carved with his own hands,"
Light filled his eyes.
PIERRE-- And had he come so far?
(_Ely walks forward and looks around the corner of
the dormitory._)
ELY-- (Turning back.)
I must be at the gate when father comes--
Four miles on crutches. Suddenly he looked up.
He must have seen a wing flash in the sky,
For his face brightened with the light of faith,
And like a seed he seemed to scent a shower.
PIERRE--What did you do?
ELY-- I asked him to kneel down.
Oh, what a power there is in holy things!
No sooner had I touched him with the rood
Than like a plant he rose up from the stones
And blossomed; cried: "Lord Jesus, I am cured!"
And down the mountain ran shouting for joy.
PIERRE--The Holy Virgin bless us!
ELY-- Yes, he did;
Ran down. I watched him till he disappeared,
Then turned to stone. I could not stir, but stood
Frightened as though an angel hovered near
In the blue sky.
PIERRE-- Oh, I have felt it too!
These two days have to me been like a dream
And I am dizzy as on some high place.
At night I feel the stars are not far off,
And when I wake, it seems to me the dawn
Is breaking far below us on the world.
So near we are to that which lights the sun,
(_He holds up the candelabra._)
These candles, if I should dare to speak the word,
Would burst out into flame.
ELY-- Pierre!
PIERRE--(_Still looking up._) Oh, surely,
Surely the hands that lifted Oswald up,
Lifted our abbey too, and we are close
To heaven. Perhaps about us in the air
Are voices and the wings of those that hear
Our very whispers,--martyrs, saints, Saint Giles.
ELY--You make it terrible to live in flesh.
PIERRE--Oh, terrible! It is terrible to live
Where every word drops in an angel's ear.
I feel that every breath should be a prayer.