William Wilfred Campbell - Hildebrand: Act II, Scene 4 lyrics

PLACE—A monastery near Milan. Night. Enter two monks, BRUN, a fat little monk, and WAST, a tall, lean one, with an extremely ugly face. BRUN. How he doth take on, this new friar Gerbhert. I had not thought a man would lose his appetite for any woman. WAST. Ah, Brun, you gluttonous men know not of love. Such dangerous pa**ions are beyond thy ken. Lacking the attractive, the magnetic, you descend to lower pleasures. Now, look on me, a victim to woman's fancy. Within these walls I find a haven from woman's importunities. BRUN. Verily, brother, thou must have slain hearts. WAST. It was my daily sorrow, so many beauties sought me. I could not walk the streets but I were pestered. It did sorrow me much; I could not pity all the pa**ions I awoke, so fled me here, sacrificing my prospects, my youth, my person, rather than light fires I could not quench. (eyeing himself in a metal hand-mirror) Alas, alas, Brun, my beauty falleth off sadly of late. BRUN. Yea, thou hast a haggard cast to thy looks. It wonders me much where all thy provender goeth, it doth thee so little service [Page 287]. WAST. Ah, Brun, Brun, so many broken hearts, so many tender reminiscences. But thou canst not touch my feelings. Yea, Brun, didst thou but know the former dignity, the port, the carriage of my person; the flash, the majesty of my eye; the symmetry, the moulding of my form, thou wouldst but marvel at this ruin I am. BRUN. I doubt it not, old s**er, but let not thy former beauty fret thy present comeliness out o' countenance. WAST. Nay, brother, I will so endeavour, but I am ever on the tremble lest some one of those former victims, in cruel desperation maddened, my find me here and seize my person. Brun, wilt thou protect me in such extremity—wilt thou, brother? BRUN. Yea, that I will, thou wreck of former perfection. If any misguided person of that unfortunate s** be so seized by distraction as to make formidable attack upon thy cla**ic person, she doth so on her peril, I promise thee, old much-afflicted, my hand upon it. Be the bottle finished? [A knocking is heard without. WAST. What be that sound? 'Tis she, 'tis she, at last! Oh, me! Oh, me! what will I do? (gets behind BRUN) Brun! Brother! wilt thou protect me? BRUN. Confusion take thee, Wast! now be a man. WAST. Yea, yea, I be a man, that be my sorrow. Ah, oh, what sh—all I do? [Tries to hide himself in his cowl. Enter other Monks in great confusion. All. What be that noise? what be th—at no—ise? One Monk. (peers through the wicket and starts back in horror) 'Tis a—O blessed Peter, 'tis a woman! All. What shall we do? O blessed Peter! what shall we do? WAST. I am undone, undone! my fatal beauty a**ails me even here. BRUN. Wast, quit thy folly; go close to the gate and question her wants. WAST. Not me, not me! not for all heaven's riches [Page 288]! All. Nay, nay, let her not in. [Knocking continues. Let us pray, brothers, let us pray! [All huddle together. BRUN. Then if ye will not, then I must, ere the Abbot comes. Monks. (fleeing) Nay, nay, let her not in, a woman! a woman! a woman! Enter Abbot. AB. Stop, fools! (all stop) Be it the devil at your heels, ye flee so quickly? All. A woman! a woman! [Exeunt Monks. AB. (to BRUN) Open the gate. [BRUN opens gate. Enter MARGARET, worn by illness and starvation. AB. Woman, what want you here? MAR. I want my husband. [At the back of the stage, in a dimly-lit cell, behind a grating, GERBHERT is seen kneeling. He rises at sound of MARGARET'S voice, a Monk holds a crucifix before him and he sinks back. AB. Whom do you call by so profane a title within these holy walls? MAR. My husband, Gerbhert, vicar at Milan. Oh, let me see him; our little one is dying. Where doth he linger aliened from his home? [GERBHERT comes forward again, the Monk lifts the crucifix and he goes back wringing his hands. AB. This is his home; he knows nor wife nor children. You must go hence. MAR. If I called out unto these barren walls, And had they but a heart to hear my prayer Beneath their stony hardness, they would open To let me see him. AB. You must go forth, you blaspheme these pure precincts. Woman, go [Page 289]. MAR. Nay, drive me not thus forth, O holy Abbot, By all you love, revere and hope on earth, Drive me not forth, tear down this hideous wall That hides me from my husband, let him know. 'Tis only for a little, little while. Did he but know our little one was ill He'd hasten in the first impulse of sorrow; At its slight cry he'd be all shook with pity, And not it's dying. Gerbhert! Gerbhert! come! Where are you, Gerbhert? AB. You must go hence, or I will force you hence. MAR. I have no soul to curse you, your own soul Be its own hell for this unnaturalness. (going out) I come, my fatherless one, to die with thee! To die with thee! [GERBHERT bounds forth. GERB. Margaret! (shakes the grating) Margaret! [The Monk raises the crucifix, and GERBHERT follows it slowly out. CURTAIN.