I grasp and bend it as a bow, And shoot forth from its trembling string An arrow, that shall be, perchance, Like the arrow of the Israelite king Shot from the window towards the east.
That of the Lord's deliverance!
PRINCE HENRY.
My life, alas! is what thou seest!
O enviable fate! to be Strong, beautiful, and armed like thee With lyre and sword, with song and steel;A hand to smite, a heart to feel!
Thy heart, thy hand, thy lyre, thy sword, Thou givest all unto thy Lord;While I, so mean and abject grown, Am thinking of myself alone,WALTER.
Be patient; Time will reinstate Thy health and fortunes.
PRINCE HENRY.
'T is too late!
I cannot strive against my fate!
WALTER.
Come with me; for my steed is weary;
Our journey has been long and dreary, And, dreaming of his stall, he dints With his impatient hoofs the flints.
PRINCE HENRY, aside.
I am ashamed, in my disgrace, To look into that noble face!
To-morrow, Walter, let it be.
WALTER.
To-morrow, at the dawn of day, I shall again be on my way.
Come with me to the hostelry, For I have many things to say.
Our journey into Italy Perchance together we may make;Wilt thou not do it for my sake?
PRINCE HENRY.
A sick man's pace would but impede Thine eager and impatient speed.
Besides, my pathway leads me round To Hirsehau, in the forest's bound, Where I assemble man and steed, And all things for my journey's need.
They go out.
LUCIFER, flying over the city.
Sleep, sleep, O city! till the light Wake you to sin and crime again, Whilst on your dreams, like dismal rain, I scatter downward through the night My maledictions dark and deep.
I have more martyrs in your walls Than God has; and they cannot sleep;They are my bondsmen and my thralls;
Their wretched lives are full of pain, Wild agonies of nerve and brain;And every heart-beat, every breath, Is a convulsion worse than death!
Sleep, sleep, O city! though within The circuit of your walls there be No habitation free from sin, And all its nameless misery;The aching heart, the aching head, Grief for the living and the dead, And foul corruption of the time, Disease, distress, and want, and woe, And crimes, and passions that may grow Until they ripen into crime!
SQUARE IN FRONT OF THE CATHEDRAL
Easter Sunday.FRIAR CUTHBERT preaching to the crowd from a pulpit in the open air.PRINCE HENRY and Elsie crossing the square.
PRINCE HENRY.
This is the day, when from the dead Our Lord arose; and everywhere, Out of their darkness and despair, Triumphant over fears and foes, The hearts of his disciples rose, When to the women, standing near, The Angel in shining vesture said, "The Lord is risen; he is not here!"And, mindful that the day is come, On all the hearths in Christendom The fires are quenched, to be again Rekindled from the sun, that high Is dancing in the cloudless sky.
The churches are all decked with flowers, The salutations among men Are but the Angel's words divine, "Christ is arisen!" and the bells Catch the glad murmur, as it swells, And chant together in their towers.
All hearts are glad; and free from care The faces of the people shine.
See what a crowd is in the square, Gayly and gallantly arrayed!
ELSIE.
Let us go back; I am afraid!
PRINCE HENRY.
Nay, let us mount the church-steps here, Under the doorway's sacred shadow;We can see all things, and be freer From the crowd that madly heaves and presses!
ELSIE.
What a gay pageant! what bright dresses!
It looks like a flower-besprinkled meadow.
What is that yonder on the square?
PRINCE HENRY.
A pulpit in the open air, And a Friar, who is preaching to the crowd In a voice so deep and clear and loud, That, if we listen, and give heed, His lowest words will reach the ear.
FRIAR CUTHBERT, gesticulating and cracking a postilion's whip.
What ho! good people! do you not hear?
Dashing along at the top of his speed, Booted and spurred, on his jaded steed, A courier comes with words of cheer.
Courier! what is the news, I pray?
"Christ is arisen!" Whence come you? "From court."Then I do not believe it; you say it in sport.
Cracks his whip again.
Ah, here comes another, riding this way;
We soon shall know what he has to say.
Courier! what are the tidings to-day?
"Christ is arisen!" Whence come you? "From town."Then I do not believe it; away with you, clown.
Cracks his whip more violently.
And here comes a third, who is spurring amain;What news do you bring, with your loose-hanging rein, Your spurs wet with blood, and your bridle with foam?
"Christ is arisen!" Whence come you? "From Rome."Ah, now I believe.He is risen, indeed.
Ride on with the news, at the top of your speed!
Great applause among the crowd.
To come back to my text! When the news was first spread That Christ was arisen indeed from the dead, Very great was the joy of the angels in heaven;And as great the dispute as to who should carry The tidings thereof to the Virgin Mary, Pierced to the heart with sorrows seven.
Old Father Adam was first to propose, As being the author of all our woes;But he was refused, for fear, said they, He would stop to eat apples on the way!
Abel came next, but petitioned in vain, Because he might meet with his brother Cain!
Noah, too, was refused, lest his weakness for wine Should delay him at every tavern-sign;And John the Baptist could not get a vote, On account of his old-fashioned camel's-hair coat;And the Penitent Thief, who died on the cross, Was reminded that all his bones were broken!
Till at last, when each in turn had spoken, The company being still at loss, The Angel, who rolled away the stone, Was sent to the sepulchre, all alone.
And filled with glory that gloomy prison, And said to the Virgin, "The Lord is arisen!"The Cathedral bells ring.
But hark! the bells are beginning to chime;And I feel that I am growing hoarse.
I will put an end to my discourse, And leave the rest for some other time.
For the bells themselves are the best of preachers;Their brazen lips are learned teachers, From their pulpits of stone, in the upper air, Sounding aloft, without crack or flaw, Shriller than trumpets under the Law, Now a sermon, and now a prayer.