William Wilfred Campbell - Hildebrand: Act I, Scene 1 lyrics

(Rise outer curtain.) An inn-yard in Milan. Two Burghers discovered seated at a table, drinking. Ist B. Well, well, these be the strange days indeed, indeed! 2nd B. (rather drunk.) How now, neighbor Burnard, how now? Ist B. Heard'st thou not the news, good neighbor? But with thy nose always i' the wine-pot thou canst not know anything aside its rim. 2nd B. Wine-pot, wine-pot, thou sayest! Ha, ha! nose i' the wine-pot, thou sayest! 'Tis better than sticking it into every business save thine own, hey! neighbor Burnard? But what be this news that would keep the nose out o' the wine-pot? Ist B. There be a new Pope at Rome, the monk Hildebrand. How like you that? 2nd B. God keep us all! Now thou dost say it? It seemeth they be making new Popes every Michaelmas. This were no reason for to keep the nose outside the wine-pot. Here's to his health, God save him! 'Twere a merry grape was squeezed for this, good neighbor. Here's long life to thee an' the Holy Pope, and especially to the royal Henry. Soon may he come to Italy. Ist B. It be said Henry cannot sleep o' nights i' his bed for the making of this same Pope, Hildebrand, or Hellbrand, as some folks call him. But hast thou heard the greater news [Page 255]? 2nd B. Nay, what now? Nothing be new now. Nothing be new, along o' fighting and preaching and damning in the Church and State. Nothing be new save drinking, and that be ever new. Ha, ha! What else be new? Ist B. 'Tis concerning this same scarce-baked Pope, this Hellbrand. 'Tis said he hath sworn by the ma** and all the saints never to rest until he hath unwived all the priests i' Europe. How like you that, good neighbor Burnard? 2nd B. Ho! ho! 'Tis a good joke. Unwive the priests! 'Tis a good joke. 'Twere well for me and thee did he swear a vow to unwive all the burghers i' Milan. 'Twould gie one I know more peace i' his bed o' nights. 'Tis the priests ever have all the good fortune i' Europe. Ah me, ah me! 'Tis ever so. Ist B. Yea, but there's more news yet, good neighbour. This same Hellbrand, which be a good name for him if he be Pope, hath sent out two wondrous preachers, endowed with uncommon powers of tongue and orders, to spread this same doctrine in all Italy and throughout Europe; an' it be said they took fearsome oaths, on pain of eternal damnation, not to rest till they had done so; an' further, 'tis said they be here to-night to preach i' the market. 2nd B. I' Milan? Ist B. (rising.) Yea, i' Milan, here, i' the square. 2nd B. Well, now! It do be pa**ing strange! Well, now! It be an ill law, and he be a damn liar who saith not. A most unnatural law, for our good pastor. Were it my case, now, it were fitting, (Ist goes out) who taketh a lecture every midnight near upon co*k-crow, such as no Pope's bull could outwit in language an' rhetoric. Say, good neighbor, what thinkest thou? Might I not be made a priest? What be qualifications? Ha! he hath gone! I could drink with an abbot, yea, an archbishop. Yea, I'll see this same Hellbrand about the matter; it shall be done, be done, ha, ha! it shall be done [Page 256]! [Reels out. (Rise inner curtain) The market-place. Enter several jolly Monks. Ist Monk. (sings) Ours be a jolly life, No care nor ill have we; We neither toil nor starve nor beg, But live right merrily. All. No wife to scold, no child to squall, An' put us on the rack; We drink good wine, we kiss the maids, An' the Pope is at our back. 2nd. So here's unto the jolly monk, [All grasp hands. And here's to him, alack! [All clench fists. Who'd turn him from his board and bunk, For the Pope is at his back. All. The Pope is at our back, good Frères, The Pope is at our back; We fleece the churls, we scorn the King, For the Pope is at our back. [All pa** on. Enter a great crowd of Burghers, men and women, who fill the market. Enter ARNULPH and ARIALD, the decretal preachers. ARNULPH ascends a pulpit to harangue the crowd. ARN. Know ye, Citizens and Burghers of Milan, that whereas in the past, by reason of evils and curses, through the power of the Devil, Holy Church hath fallen into abomination, to the shame of men and sorrow of Heaven, it hath here, now, and at this time, behooved her to cast off certain of these abominations, to wit, especially that most heinous sin, whereby the priests of the altar do, without grace and carnally given, co-habit in concubinage with those weaker vessels, even as do the common and unsanctified of humanity; wherefore know ye, Citizens [Page 257] and Burghers of this city of Milan, that the Holy Father doth now and at this time, by me and through me, instruct you each and collectively, of the dreadful enormity of this most damnable sin, whereby the holy priesthood is made of none effect, and Holy Church doth languish in weakness and va**alage to the princes and lords of this carnal world,—know ye,— A Burgher. Most reverend Doctor, cut ye short the “know ye's” an' the “wherefores” and th' “verbiations” an' the “latinities” an' come down from your high-flown rostrum an' tell us the Church's will. We be plain men. Other Burghers. Well done, Big Gellert. Thou art in the right of it. Bravo, Gellert! AR. Insolent lump! Wouldst thou interrupt a doctor of Holy Church? GELLERT. Holy Church confound him and thee, too, thou sour-faced varlet! Who's a-talking of Holy Church? He is but a stray rooster from some mad convent, an' thou his mate ranting on a mad doctrine. Holy Church teacheth no such sinful doctrine. Be we fools? Burghers. Well hit, Big Gellert, thou canst give him the latinities of it. Hit him back, old pigeon! ARN. Beware, thou impious mountain of mortality, an' ye foolish burghers, lest ye insult in me a power that is behind me. A Clerk. Come, come, get thee down; we want no such strange doctrines. We have had clergy, good men with wives and chicks i' Milan, these centuries back, an' we be no Sodom. ARN. I know not your customs, but in the name of Holy Church, I, Arnulph, hereby command ye, on pain of deepest Hell hereafter, that ye abstain from all ma**es made or performed by any priest who continues in this unholy state, for I tell you, be he priest, archdeacon, bishop or archbishop, he is accursed, and doubly accursed. GEL. Thine be a big curse, indeed, an', by 'r Lady, thou mouthest it well [Page 258]. Clerk. Dost thou tell us our good pastor be in mortal sin because he liveth with a good wife as do other men? ARN. Have I not said it? GEL. Then art thou a brazen liar, an' comest thou down I will give thee the non of it on thy brazen chops, thou leather-lunged varlet of Satan! ARN. Dog of Hell, the arm that toucheth me Heaven will wither! [A great clamor arises Enter GERBHERT, the Parish Priest. GERB. What meaneth this disturbance i' my parish? I thought I ruled a peaceful, God-fearing people, an' not a brawling rabble. GEL. Pray, good father, 'tis yon loud-mouthed dog of Satan hath insulted you and all Milan by his mad heresy. GERB. Insulteth me, good Gellert? (to ARNULPH) Who are you who without my license come disturbing my flock with thine unseemly harangues? Come down from yon pulpit! (to the crowd) Good people, in God's name, go home. ARN. Nay, I will not come down till I have delivered this my message to this foolish mob, an' to thee, thou carnal-minded priest. In the name of the Holy Church I exhort ye— GEL. He saith, Pastor Gerbhert, that thou canst no more make ma**es, being a wedded man. GERB. (to ARNULPH) Be this true? ARN. It is true, by the Mother of God. An' thou wilt feel it, too, ere thou art an hour older. GERB. Nay, man, thou art mad! this cannot be! AR. 'Tis even so as we be Holy Church's men. GERB. Ha! art thou not Ariald, once of Rome? AR. Yea, I am that same Ariald. GERB. Then tell me, Ariald, by our one-time friendship, that this man be mad, an' his message but a foolish doctrine [Page 259]. AR. Nay, Gerbhert, but 'tis thou art foolish, an' this law but too true; thou must obey. GERB. Then will I fight this mad heresy, this inhuman code. That we must give up our wives an' babes, our pure homes, an' all that is holiest on earth! Nay, it cannot be! 'Tis devilish! AR. But thou must obey or be driven out. GERB. Ariald, thou knowest my Margaret, thou knowest her sweet nature, her holy conversation. She hath no devil, that her loving should make me unworthy. GEL. 'Tis damnable, good father. But give me the word, an' we will trounce them out o' the market. Enter MARGARET, thePriest's Wife. MAR. Gerbhert! Gerbhert! Good citizens, have you seen the pastor? Mother Bernard, poor soul, needeth the last rites; she be dying. GEL. Aye, thou wert ever an angel of mercy from heaven to the sick an' poor. MAR. What aileth thee, Gerbhert? What may be the matter? GERB. Come hither, Margaret. This man telleth me So strange a thing, I know not if he be mad Who sayeth it, or I who hear his words. He sayeth I am no more a priest of God While I'm thy husband. MARG. Not priest of God while thou art husband? Nay, But he is mad indeed, for thou art both A good, kind pastor, as these people know, And, as I know, a good and loving husband. GERB. He saith 'tis some new law within the Church. He saith in sooth, sweet Margaret, I must either Put thee away or leave the priesthood. MAR. An' what say you, my Gerbhert? GERB. That I will fight it to the bitter end. I will be both, or there's no God in heaven [Page 260]. Ariald, thou knowest my good Margaret, The woman of my choice, my youth's one love, I will not give her up. The Holy Father Shall know of this strange doctrine. He shall judge 'Twixt thee and me. ARN. Know then, thou carnal priest, that even now He hath decided; 'tis by his own will That we be here. Here is his written word. [Holds up thePope's bull. Yea, further, you shall choose you even now. Thou shalt not shrive yon dying woman till Thou hast renounced this woman. GERB. My sweet Margaret, put your trust in me. (to ARNULPH) Thou cruel preacher, show me yon dread bull, Whose horns do even now rend me. Tell me now 'Tis but a lie and not great Hildebrand's. I knew him once, he seemed a kindly man, And never one to part a wife and husband. GEL. Let me see yon paper, let me see thou liest. Nay, 'tis the Pope's name. This be a damned world! Good Father Gerbhert, tell us if this paper Be what he saith. [Hands paper to GERBHERT, who reads. MARGARET goes near GERBHERT. GERB. Margaret, come not so near; O Margaret, come not so near,—I love thee, Margaret—but—O my God! MAR. Gerbhert, Gerbhert, thou wilt not desert me! Remember our sweet babe. AR. Margaret, touch not that man. He is God's own. Leave him. ARN. Even so. Wouldst thou curse him with thy touch? MAR. Evil Man! Good friends, forgive my misery! But even now, as I did pa** our home, I left his little one, and mine, asleep, His sweet face pillowed on his rosy arm [Page 261]. I bent and kissed him, he did look so like His father. And now, good friends, forgive me; it is but A pa**ing madness, but it seemed these men Had built a wall of hideous black between Me and my husband. GERB. Margaret, back! as thou lovest me! Nay, touch me not, I am a banished man. Good friends, brave Gellert, pardon my poor feelings, For I am now afflicted by dread Heaven For some gone, unknown sin of my past youth. Perchance I murdered one in hideous sleep, Strangled some infant on its mother's breast, Violated some pure sanctuary, That this dread blackness lieth on me now. O Margaret, thou art springtime vanished past, And this be autumn all dead leaves and rain, With all of mem'ry's summer 'twixt us twain, To think and dream forever. Forgive, my friends, This week unseemliness in me, your pastor. I ever did love mercy, dealt but tardily With those who seemed to suffer more than sin, Looked up to heaven and led my people, trusting; And now I am brought beneath the cruelest hand That ever pointed two roads to a man. Arnulph, Ariald, forgive my former heat, You do but your bare duty. Friends, they're right, And I, your whilom pastor, in the wrong, For I mistook the face of earth's poor love And dreamed a stair of human happiness Did lead to heaven. See me now rebuked. 'Tis the Pope's will. Arnulph, read thou this. I charge thee, as the pastor of this parish, That you leave out no word, however hard, Nor soften down one sentence of this curse Or its conditions. ARN. Of a surety I'll not. AR. He shall not! And, harken you, good people, do you listen [Page 262]! MAR. Gerbhert, come home! I will not hear that curse That parts us twain. My breaking heart, it seems, Doth hear our baby cry. ARN. Silence, woman! MAR. You would silence the angels. Work you this deed, I tell you, man, you shut all Heaven out And let in Hell; you desolate glad homes By your brute ministry that knows not love. ARN. The love of Heaven knoweth not carnal love. MAR. Forgive me, sir! Stern sir! would woman's tears But move you, would woman's pleaded prayers But change you to the softest kindly thought, I would beg of you, read not that dread curse! ARN. Silence, woman! GERB. Margaret, by your love for me, be silent. ARN. (reads) In the name of God, amen: Gregory the Seventh by the will of Heaven, Pope, Vicar of Christ, successor of Holy Peter, sendeth greeting to all Christian peoples, and commandeth, that any priest living with a woman in the so-called marriage state shall be accursed: that any person who receiveth at his hands any or more offices of Holy Church shall also be accursed. That furthermore, all offices so exercised by him shall not only be rendered null and void of all good effect, but shall rather be regarded by Holy Church as acts accursed. That this same law be proclaimed in all parishes throughout Christendom. Know ye that this be my will. Signed, GREGORY. MAR. Gerbhert, O God, Gerbhert, where art thou? GERB. Margaret, touch me not; we must obey When Heaven speaks. MAR. Not when it utters thunders such as this [Page 263]. ARN. Choose, Gerbhert, 'twixt this woman and thine office. Take her with thee to Hell, or both win Heaven. GERB. I have chosen. Let me go and die! MAR. O Gerbhert, come and kiss our little babe, Say one good-bye, to home, before you go. I'll not detain you, I say it on my knees, I'll not detain you. GERB. Margaret, would you curse us with your love? I can hear the Holy Father's voice, Though he's in Rome, saying nay, nay, to thee. Farewell, Margaret, we will meet in heaven. [Goes out with ARNULPH and ARIALD. MAR. Nay, I am mad, 'twas this o'er-nursing did it. Gerbhert, tell me, tell me, I am mad. Good friends, oh, pardon your poor Margaret. Oh, who will lead me home! CURTAIN.