THE
UNDIVINE
COMEDY.
Krasinski - The Undivine Comedy
George seated upon a bed. Count Henry enters, and
lays down his arms upon a table.
Count Henry. A hundred fresh men place upon the
ramparts !
After so fierce<i fight my troops need rest.
Jacob {without). So help me God, the Lord !
Count Henry {to George). Thou must have heard
The musketry, the noise of battle, George ?
Keep up thy courage, boy ; we perish not
To-dav, no, nor to-morrow !
George. I heard it all ;
It is not that strikes terror through my heart.
The cannon-ball flies on, and leaves no trace, —
There's something else that makes me shiver, father !
Count Henry. Thou fear'st forme? Is' t that makes
thee so pale ?
George. No, for I know thine hour is not yet come.
Count Henry. My heart is solaced for to-day at least.
I've seen the foe driven from their attack.
Their ghastly corpses scattered o'er the plain.
We are alone ; come, tell me all thy thoughts
'As if we were once more in our old home,
And I will listen thee.
George {hurriedly). Oh, father, come !
A dreadful' trial is prepared, rehearsed,
Re-echoed every night within these walls !
{He goes to a door hidden in the wall, a? id opens it. )
Count Henry. George ! George ! Come back ! Where
art thou going, George?
Who showed thee this dim passage into vaults
26o THE UN DIVINE COMEDY,
Hung with eternal darkness, damp with death?
This dismal charnel-house of mouldering bones,
Of ancient victims stricken in days long past?
George. There where thine eye cannot perceive the
light.
My spirit knows the way. Follow me, father !
Gloom roll to gloom — and darkness unto darkness.
{^He enters the door, folknved by his father, atid deseends
into the vault. ^
SCENE V. Subterranean galleries and dungeons ; iron
bars, grated doors, chains, handcuffs and broken instru-
ments of torture. T/ie Count holds a torch at the foot
of a great block of granite upon which George is stand-
ing.
Count Henry. Return ! I beg you, George, come back
to me !
George. Dost thou not hear their voices, see their
forms ?
Cotint Henry. The silence of the grave surrounds us,
George,
Almost its darkness, so this torchlight flickers;
Its feeble rays fail to dispel the gloom.
George. They're coming nearer. . . . Now I see
them, father. . . . *
I see them one by one file slowly on
From the far depths of these long narrow vaults,
Tiirough broken grates, through cells witli iron tloors, . . .
They seat themselves so solemnly below . . .
Count Henry. Thy mind is wandering, my poor boy.
Alas !
// makes the things, thou only dream' st thou seest !
Nor voices, forms are here ! Unman me not
When I have utmost need of all my force !
* The Count is_pjjxushed_l)y the two victims of liis own folly, his wife
and son. TTc'lTas already bceii "punTslicd by the death of his wife for the
sacrifice of liis domestic duties to a false ideal ; tlie vision of his son is
alxjut to punish him for the sacrifice of true patriotism to a false ambi-
tion. — Revue des Deux Mondes. "
THE UNDIVINE COMEDY. 261
George. I see their pallid forms, grave and severe,
Collecting to pronounce a fearful judgment — ■
The culprit comes before the dreadful bar —
I cannot see his face — his features float and flow,
Sad as a winter's mist. . . . Hark, father, hark!
CHORUS OF VOICES.
In the name of the right and the strength which once
forced upon us
Our manifold agonies, we, the beaten, immured,
The broken 'neath irons, the tortured, the fed upon
poisons.
The prisoned, the living built up in the tombs of the
walls: —
The time for our vengeance is here : — in our turn we will
torture,
Probe, judge, and condemn, — and Satan is our execu-
tioner !
Cotint Henry. What seest thou, George ?
George. I see the prisoner.
He wrings and clasps his hands. Oh, father ! father !
Count Henry. Who is he, George?
George. My father? . . . . Oh ! my father . . .
A Voice. In thee the race accursed hath reached its
close !
It has in thee united all its strength,
Its wildest passions, all its selfish pride, —
Only to perish utterly in thee 1
CHORUS OF VOICES,
Because thou hast loved nothing but thyself;
—-Revered thyself nlone, and thine own thoughts;
Thou art condenmed. ,rrriiamned to eternity !
Count Henry. I can see nothing, but on every side.
Above, below me, I hear sobs and wails,^
Judgment and threatening, and eternal doom !
George. The prisoner ! he lifts his haughty head
As thou dost, father, when one angers thee ! . . .
He answers with proud words, as thou dost, father,
^Vhcn thou scornest ! . . .
23
262 THE UNDIVINE COMEDY.
CHORUS OF VOICES.
In vain ! in vain ! what use of pleading?
Hope will wake for him no more !
In earth or Heaven, there's no salvation : —
Close the trial, — all is o'er !
A Voice. A {^vi more days of vain and passing glory,
Of which your sires robbed us in life, in story,
And then your name shall vanish from the earth !
You perish, but shall have no burial proud ;
No tolling bell your death-hour peals aloud ;
No tears of kinsmen fall, no train of friends
Bears your escutcheoned coffin to the grave,
Nor pride, nor courage will avail to save.
Sad, desolate as ours your death will be,
Transfixed on the same rock of agony !
Count Henry. Spirits accursed ! . . . at last I recog-
nize you !
(^ffe advances into the darkness. ')
George. My father ! go no farther ! I adjure
You in the name of Christ ! Oh, father, stay !
Count Henry (he stops). Speak, George! quick! tell
me what you see below !
George. The prisoner . . .
Count Henry. Who is it, George?
George. Father !
AnotherJatli£r_I_,:_;_^_it^js_thy'self . . . O father !
It is as white as snow . . . heavy with chains . . .
And now they torture thee . . . I hear thy cries . . .
(He falls upon his knees. )
Forgive me, father ! . . . but my mother comes . . .
She lights the Dark . . . she orders me . . .
(^He falls in a fainting ft. )
Count Henry (catching the falling boy in his arms). Ay,
this last blow alone was wanting still !
My only child must lead me to the brink of Hell I
Mary, inexorable spirit ! . . . God ! . . .
Thou oilier Mary, whom I oft have prayed . . .
THE UNDIVINE COMEDY. 263
Here then begins the infinite of pain,
Eternal darkness, doom ! . . .
Rouse thee, my soul ! Back, back to life again !
One day of glory still is left for me.
First the fierce battle with my fellow-men . . .
Then comes the eternal combat . . .
{lie carries away his son. )
CHORUS OF VOICES {dying azvay in the distance).
Because thou hast loved nothing but thyself!
Only revered thyself, and thine own thoughts !
Thou art condemned — damned for eternity !
SCENE VII. A lai-ge hall in the castle of the Holy
Trinity ; arms a? id armor hang upon the walls. Count
Henry. IVomen, children, old men, and nobles are
kneeling at his feet. The Godfather stands in the
centre of the hall ; a crowd of men in the background.
Count Henry. No, by my son ; by my dead wife, I
will not !
Voices of Women. Oh, pity ! pity ! Hunger gnaws our
bowels !
Our children starve ! we die of fear and famine !
Voices of Men. There still is time, if you will hear the
Herald
Who brings us terms; — dismiss him not unheard.
Godfather. I've passed my whole life as a citizen,
And I fear no reproof from you. Count Henry,
If I am here as his ambassador.
It is because I know our age, and read
Aright its glorious mission. Pancras is
Truly its social representative.
And if I dare to speak . . .
Count Henry. Out of my sight, old man !
{Aside to Jacob. ) Bring here forthwith a hundred of our
troops ! {Exit Jacob. )
{The women rise and weep ; the men retire afciv steps. )
A Baron. It is through your fault we are lost, Count
Henry.
264 THE UNDIVINE COMEDY.
Second Baron. Obedience we renounce. Capitulate!
A Prince. For the surrender of the Fort, we will
Ourselves arrange the terms with this good citizen.
Godfather. The chief who sent me pledges life to all,
Provided you will join the People's cause,
And recognize the needs of this, our century !
Voices. We join the People's cause ! We own their needs !
Count Henry. Soldiers, when I was chosen . to take
command,
I swore to perish on this castle's walls
Rather than yield this Fort. You also swore
A solemn oath before the shrine of God.
The vow was mutual, — we must die together !
Ha ! nobles, can you really wish to live ?
Then ask your fathers why, when they were living,
They ruled with such oppression, cruelty?
{Addressing a Count. )
Count, why did you oppress your cowering serfs?
{Addressing another. )
Why did you pass your youth in dice and cards,
Travel for pleasure o'er the earth, and quite
Forget the claims of your own suffering land?
{Another. )
Why have you always crawled before the great,
And scorned the lowly?
{To a iady. )
You, fair dame, had sons;
Why did you not make warriors of them, men,
That they might aid you now in your distress?
No, you have all preferred your pleasure, ease.
Dealings with Jews and lawyers to get gold
To spend in luxury : — go call on them for aid !
{He rises and extends his arms towards them. )
Why hasten ye to shame, wrap your last hours
In shrouds of infamy? . . . On ! on with me!
On where swords glitter and hot bullets hail !
Not to the gallows with its loathsome coil.
Where ready stands the masked and silent hangman
To throw his noose of shame around your craven throats !
THE UNDIVINE COMEDY. 265
Some Voices. He speaks the truth. On with the bay-
onets !
Other Voices. We die of hunger; there is no more
food!
Voices. Pity the children ! Are they not your own ?
Godfather. I promise life and liberty to all !
Count Henry {approaching and seizing the Godfather).
Go, sacred Person of the Herald ! go,
And hide thy gray hairs with the neophytes,
In tents with base mechanics plotting murder,
That thus I may not dye them in thy blood !
{Enter Jacob with a division of armed men. )
Aim at that brow, wrinkled with folly's folds.
That scarlet cap, which trembles at my words,
That brainless head !
( The Godfather escapes. )
All. Seize ! bind Count Henry ! seize !
Send him to Pancras !
Count Henry. Nobles, ye' 11 bide my time !
{He goes from one soldier to another, as he addresses them
in turn. )
Do you remember when we scaled a cliff,
A savage wolf followed our steps, and when
You, startled, slipped, I caught you on the verge
Of the abyss, and saved your life, my friend,
At peril of my own ? Then you seemed grateful !
{To others. )
Have you forgotten, men, when driven by winds,
Our boat upset among the Danube's crags.
And we young swimmers braved the waves together ? -
{To others. )
Jerome and Thaddeus, you were both with me
On the Black Sea: — you were brave sailors then !
( To others. )
When fire destroyed your homes, who built them up?
( To others. )
Soldiers, you fled to me from cruel lords.
And I redressed your wrongs, — will you desert me ?
23*
266 THE UNDIVINE COMEDY.
{He addresses the men generally. ^
Say, will you arm to combat for our rights,
Or will you leave me here to die alone,
Smiling with scorn that midst so many men
I found no single man ?
Me7i. Long live Count Henry !
Count Henry. Let all the meat and brandy now be
shared
Among the men ; — and then upon the walls !
Men. Yes, meat and brandy ! tlien upon the walls !
Count Hemy. Go with them, Jacob ! In an hour hence
They must be ready to renew the fight.
Jacob. So help me God, the Lord !
Women. Our children starve !
We curse Count Henry in their innocent names !
Voices. We curse thee for our fathers !
Other Voices. For our wives !
Count Henry. And I breathe curses on all coward souls !
SCENE VIL The ramparts of the Holy Trinity. Dead
bodies are lying scattered about, with broken cannons,
pikes, and guns. Soldiers are hurrying to and fro.
Count Henry leans against a parapet, and Jacob
stands beside him.
Count Henry {jhrusting his sword into its sheath).
There's no intoxication can compare
With that of danger; thus to sport with life,
To win the fight, or if it must be, lose !
Well ! we can lose but once — and all is said !
Jacob. Our last good broadside drove them back a
moment.
But they are gathering to renew the storm.
What can we do? for since the world was world.
None ever yet escaped his destiny !
Count Hen fy. Have we no cartridges? Our last shot
fired?
Jacob. No balls ; no grape-shot ; powder ; — all are gone !
Count Henry. Bring my son here ! for the last time I
would
Embrace him. . . . {Exit Jacob. )
THE UN DIVINE COMEDY. 267
The smoke has dimmed my eyes — I cannot see, —
The valley seems to rise up to my feet —
And then sinks to its place, — the rocks, cliffs, crack —
Break in fastastic angles — totter — fall !
My thoughts assume the same fantastic forms
Before my spirit — flicker like a lamp !
{^He seats himself upon the wall. ')
It is too little to be born a man !
Nor is it worth the pain to be an Angel :
Since e'en the highest of them all must feel,
After some centuries of existence past,
As we do after our few years of life.
Immeasurable ennui, desire
Of greater Power. . . . Spirits must long as we do ! . . .
One either must be God Himself . . . or nothing ! . . .
{Enter Jaeol) with George. ) Count Henry (Jo Jacob).
