ABBOT--(_Lifting his hand._) This is the work of Benedict.
FATHER BENEDICT--(_Stopping._) You mean that as reproach?
ABBOT--I simply mean
We had no hand in this; the glory is yours.
FATHER BENEDICT--Come with me.
(_He rides on toward the gate. The Abbot walks
beside him. Louis, behind, where he cannot
be seen, follows them. The bell rings and
the monks move toward the chapel and enter,
leaving the court bare._)
FATHER BENEDICT-- You remember, I suppose,
As we clashed spears a while ago I said
The abbey here was a goblet, and you a saint.
I might say that I spoke in irony,
But that would not be nice.
ABBOT-- And you said, too,
Something about an angel with a cask.
FATHER BENEDICT--That is a cut at me. I recollect.
I said that I would fill your cup.
ABBOT-- Proceed.
FATHER BENEDICT-- (_Leaning over._)
Of this estate you get one cow. You hear?
That's a fine liquor, eh, Father? (_To the ass._) Come up.
(_Pierre comes from the dormitory and crosses the
court toward the chapel._)
You are an old man and your work is done.
You may retire now and live on milk.
'Twill nourish that great intellect of yours.
LOUIS-- (_Under his breath._)
As well as anything that you could give.
ABBOT--I welcome anything that can do that.
FATHER BENEDICT--If it be heathen.
ABBOT-- Benedict, before you came
Louis and I were talking of the things
That late have happened.
FATHER BENEDICT-- The dream.
ABBOT-- Oswald's fall
And his unnatural rescue from the gulch.
FATHER BENEDICT--'Twas _super_natural, not _un_natural.
ABBOT--A nice discrimination, Benedict.
I do not see as you do. You were trained
By masters who, no doubt, had they heard this
Distinction, would have said: "_Benissime!_"
FATHER BENEDICT-- (_Superciliously._)
Well done is _optime._
ABBOT--(_With mock humility._) Just so--just so--
My master would have said--yes, _optime._
A boon it is that words cannot change things.
(_Pierre, who has climbed the steps slowly,
listening the while, enters the chapel._)
FATHER BENEDICT--You feared that I would shrink to play my part?