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262 THE UNDIVINE COMEDY.
262 THE UNDIVINE COMEDY.
Krasinski - The Undivine Comedy
Count Henry. Even unto Death !
A Baron {leadiiig him off on the other side). Count, it
is said you've seen our dreadful foe;
If we sliould fall alive into his hands,
Will he have i)ity on us?
THE UNDIVINE COMEDY. 257
Count Henry. Such pity as
Our fathers never dreamed that men could dare
To show to tliem : the gallows /
The Baron. Naught then's left
But to defend ourselves to our last breath !
Count Henry. What say you, Prince?
Prince. A word with you alone.
(^He draws Count Henry aside. ')
All you have said does well to soothe the crowd,
But you must kno7i> we can hold out no longer !
Count Henry. What else is left us, Prince ?
Prince. You are our chief;
It is for you to arrange the proper terms,
Capitulate . . .
Count Hc7iry. Hush ! not so loud !
Prince. Why not ?
Count Henry. Your Excellency thus would forfeit life !
{He turns to the men thronging around him. )
Who names surrender will be put to death !
Baron, Count, and Prince {together). Who names sur-
render will be put to death !
AIL Punished with death ! with death ! Vivat ! Vivat !
{Exeunt. )
SCENE III. The gallery of the tower. Count Henry.
Jacob.
Cou7it Henry. Jacob, where is my son ?
Jacob. In the north tower,
Seated upon the threshold of the vault,
Before the grate that opens on the dungeons,
Chanting wild songs and uttering prophecies.
Count Henry. Put more men on the bastion-Eleanore,
And move not from this spot. Use your best glass.
And watch the movements of the rebel camp.
Jacob. So help us God! Meanwhile our troops are faint;
Some brandy might restore them to new life.
Count He my. Open the cellars of our princes, counts ;
Give wine to all who stand upon the walls.
{Exit Jacob. )
( Count Heniy mounts some feet higher, and stands under the
bafiner upon a small terrace. )
258 ^^^-^ UN DT VINE COMEDY.
At last I see you, hated enemies !
With my whole power I trace your cunning plans,
Surround you with my scorn. No more we meet
Within th e rea lm of idle words, of poetry,
But HfThe' ;ra/ world of deadly combat.
Sharp sword to swOfd, the rattling hail of bullets
Winged by the concentration of my hate !
No more with single arm and voice I meet you ;
The strength of many centres in my will :
*******
It is a joyous thing to govern, rule,
Even were it solely at the price of death :
To feel myself the sovereign arbiter.
The master of so many wills and lives ;
To see there at my feet my enemies.
Leaping and howling at me from the abyss,
But all bereft of power to reach me here :
So like the Damned, who vainly lift their heads
Toward Heaven !
I know . . . I know a few hours more of time,
And I and thousands of yon craven wretches
Who have forgot their fothers and their God,
Will be no more forever ! Be it so !
At least I have a few days more of life
To satiate myself with joy of combat.
The ecstasy of full command o'er others,
The giddy daring, struggle, victory, loss!
Tliou, my last song, swell to a chant of triumph,
For death's the latest foe a man can conquer !
*******
The sun sets fi\st behind the needled cliffs,
Sinks in a darksome cloud of threatening vapors;
His crimson rays light luridly the valley. —
Precursor of the bloody death before mc,
I greet you with a fuller, gladder heart
Than I have e'er saluted ye, vain hopes
And promises of joy or blissful love !
*******
THE UNDIVINE COMEDY. 259
Not through intrigue, through base or cunning skill,
Have I attained the aim of my desires ;
But by a sudden bound I've leaped to fame,
As my persistent dreams told me I must.
Ruler o'er those but yesterday my equals.
Conqueror of death, since willingly I seek hmi,
I stand upon the brink :— Eternal life, or sleep !
SCENE IV. A hall in the castle lighted by torches.
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 ! . . .
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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.
