AND
Mary the daughter of joachim of the Family of David
PROGRAM NOTE
Vy/HEN the sun has vanished beneath the horizon in " * a velvet murk of violet shot with gold, when the long, hot Italian day has corne to an end in the gorgeous beauty of a Mediterranean sunset, when the tired reapers who hâve returned from the fecund, autumn-smelling Tuscan wheatfields crowd close to the hearth in a dreamy contentment of rest and quiet, then is whispered softly and at first unconnectedly the legend of the Evil One who strove with ail his dark power to destroy the work of Francis. How he garbed himself as a son of // Poverello vainly to exact a price in soûls for his endeavors; and how the constant vigils and prayers of the Little Brown Brothers banished him again to the land of darkness. Then thèse simple peasants throw more faggots on the fire to dissolve in the burning light the lurking and suggestive shadows; the mothers in great, heart-leaping surges of love clasp their babes closer to their breasts; and the children cross themselves in awe and lisp the prayer which has delivered many a devil-ridden soûl from the clutches of the Prince of Hâte: "O buono Santo Francesco, prega Iddio per noi!"
Feast of St. Thomas Aquinas, 1941 Holy Name Collège Washington, D. C.
vu
The Démon Preacher
Place: The town of Lucca in the Italian province of
Tuscany.
Time: The fourteenth century.
Characters
The Father Guardian of the Franciscan Monastery
Father Guido, the Novice-master
Father Bernardino
Brother Dominico
Brother Enrico
The Brother Porter of the Monastery
Messer Luigi Alfani, a rich merchant
Brother Angelo
Satan, alias Brother Obedientius Obligatus
The Voice of St. Michael
The Governor of the city
Giuseppe, a peasant
Pietro, a peasant
Margarita, the wife of Giuseppe
Brother Agostino
Giovanni, a peasant
A poor woman
Lady Octavia, the wife of Luigi Alfani
Doctor Alessandro Riccioli
Benno, a peasant boy, the servant of Lady Octavia
Father Francis of Assisi
Friars and peasants
THE DEMON PREACHER
{The refectory of a monastery. At c enter, toward back, is a table xvith some dishes and part of a loaf of bread on it. Several rough stools are in the corners. A large crucifix hangs on the wall. The friars are heard finishing Compline. Enter the Guardian and Father Guido. The Guardian is grave and grey; Guido is gaunt and gloomy.)
Guard.: Has Brother Angelo returned, Guido?
Guido: No, Father Guardian.
Guard.: Why, what can be keeping him? He left at
mid-morning, and none of the Brethren has heard
of him since.
Guido: It is very strange. He well knows the rule that
the begging friars should be back hère for vespers.
I shall take good care that he is reminded of it. Guard.: Now, Father, there is no necessity for severity.
He is not one to go rambling ail over the countryside.
I hâve always admired his strict attention to duty. Guido: But he is young, and youth is prone to distraction.
He may hâve seen a fair or a traveling juggler, and
judged that he needed amusement.
Guard.: I cannot believe it of Angelo. He is detained
somewhere by a mishap. I only hope that he has not
fallen foui of the townspeople. They are quick to
make mischief, especially now when they hâve con-
4 THE DEMON PREACHER
ceived some cause of complaint against us. It is strange. The other friars did not run into much trouble today, nothing but the usual insults and blasphemy. A few of them were pelted with mud, but they followed the instructions I gave them to carry themselves in ail humility, and the populace soon tired of the sport. Can it be that Angelo forgot himself, talked back, and was soundly thrashed? Why, he may even now be lying in a ditch, seriously injured and unable to crawl home.
Guroo: In that event we would hâve heard of it. The people would consider it too great a triumph to forego coming hère to boast about it. No. I insist that friend Angelo is gawping open-mouthed at a game or sport. He won't do it again.
(Compline ended, the friars file in led by Father Bernardino, a fat, jolly, roly-poly friar whom neither hunger nor penance will ever make gloomy.)
Bern.: Hello, Guido, who's dead?
Guido: Dead?
Bern.: Yes; you hâve a face as long as though you were attending a funeral.
Guard.: We are worried about Angelo. He hasn't returned from begging y et.
Bern.: Tut, tut. Don't worry about that. He's sitting down to a meal of capon and larks and white, white bread; and then he'll fill his bag with the fragments and we shall hâve something to eat. Trust a young cock-o'-the-roost like Angelo to corne out on top ail the time.
[A jew oj the jriars wbo hâve been standing in the background look into the dishes on the table, fmd nothing there and pantomime the absence oj food as well as their disappointment.)
Guido: But he knows that he must be back for Vespers. That is a rule that I hâve impressed upon him.
Bern.: Would you be back for Vespers if some goodwife ofïered you a meal fit for a king? Don't blâme Angelo.
Guard. {noticing the jriars examining the empty dishes} : I fear, Brothers, that this is another night of penance. We hâve nothing but that small portion of bread and some water. But don't become depressed. No friar has as yet starved to death. Remember, Brothers, that whoever gives anything in Christ' s name will receive it back a hundredfold. We hâve given ail we possessed; do you think that God will be less generous? Perhaps another little prayer is needed. The important thing is not to let Satan tempt us by discouragement.
Bern.: And the quickest way to overcome discouragement is to amuse ourselves. Look you, a gay measure thumped out by a stout pair of lungs will hearten the most woebegone hermit in Egypt — even you, Guido. It will fill us ail with some cause for laughter, and incidentally the devil with some cause for grief. Something like {chanting in a monotone and marking the beats with his finger) dum DUM, dum DUM, DUM, dum DUM. (Turning to Guido.) Corne, Guido, a song.
6 THE DEMON PREACHER
(The other friars know that Guido cannot sing two tones in tune and they grin expectantly. Domi- NICO speaks to Enrico aside.)
Dom.: The people came to Guido's last High Mass with
wax in their ears!
Enr. (aside) : He sounds like a crow in the corn!
(Guido stands pétrifie d in astonishment.)
Bern.: Corne, corne; don't be bashful. (To the Guardian.) How about it, Father Guardian? Must we ail mourn and not be comforted because the Novicemaster is a shrinking violet?
Guido: It's preposterous ! Outrageous!
Bern.: If Guido doesn't sing the day is lost and we'll ail be gloomier than ever.
Guard.: Well —
Bern.: Sure; hear that, Guido? Father Guardian orders you to sing.
(Guido looks at the Guardian, who hesitatingly nods.)
Bern.: Courage, courage! (He prompts Guido in ascending tones.) Da, da, da, da.
(Guido gulps, startled, then buries his chin in his neck and begins the "Aima Redemptoris Mater" in a cracked, raucous voice. He is completely off key, and after the first jew tvords his voice jizzles out in midair.)
Bern. (imitating a do g baying at the moon) : Wow, wow, wow!
(He slaps his th'tgh and doubles up with laughter. The Guardian grins. The other friars try to conceal their snickers, but Guido turns on them in outraged dignity and they relapse into a silence in which they almost suffocate.)
Bern.: That was magnifkent! A little more practice, Guido, a little more practice, and you will sound like a love-sick donkey. But you should hâve started the song lower and put more stomach into it. (With both hands he taises his own stomach, which is indicative of a high de grée of cor pore al perfection.) Like this —
(He sings the first jew words of the "Aima" in a voice that shakes the rafters, and waves his hands around like a W agnerian baritone at a fortissimo moment. He is interrupted by a noise of jeering and yelling outside. Three loud knocks are heard on the door. He stops suddenly with his arms and body in a grotesque position. AU are surprised. They look to the Guardian.)
Guard. (motioning to one of the friars) : Porter!
(The Porter opens the door and Luigi Alfani cornes in dragging Angelo after him by the arm. He halts just within the entrance and glares around. The crowd of townsfolk is seen through the doorway. Their noise cornes to a graduai stop.)
Guard. (advancing a step toward Luigi) : Peace be with you, Messer —
8 THE DEMON PREACHER
Luigi (angrzly): Peace! Bah! You and your peace and your hypocritical long faces! The sooner this town is rid of you dogs, the better. Hère you are standing around like a pack of curs waiting to be fed, and you expect this fellow to bring back enough to fîll your lazy bellies. Not only that, but I must pay for it; good food from my table to feed wastrels and spendthrifts who are too lazy to work for their own living. Hère' s your beggar — take him. (He pushes Angelo to the floor.) I want it understood that you will get no food from my house. My wife has been fooled by your soppy piety, but from now on she is forbidden to open the door to any of you.
Guard. (raising Angelo from the floor) : Do not mind, my son; this is only another trial. How hâve you fared today?
Angelo (very young and very frightened) : Father, 1 walked and walked and walked ail over the town, and everyone I asked for alms laughed at me and called me an impertinent upstart. At long last I grew tired and frightfully hungry. So I went to ask the Lady Octavia for some bread so that I would not return empty-handed. She has always been very generous in the past. But her husband hère, Messer Alfani, caught me as I was going through the gâtes and began to swear and blasphème. He collected a group of loungers and they dragged me back hère. I am home at last but hâve nothing to show for the day's weariness. [He holds out the empty almsbag.)
Guard. (consolïngly): You are singularly blessed, Brother, with the grâce which our Father Francis
desired for himself, the grâce of being despised as was the Lord Christ upon the Cross. The pain and contempt which you sufîered today brings you ever nearer to our Almighty Guardian. It is a source of great merit for you if you bear it as Christ did, humbly and willingly. As for your empty almsbag, let us forget it in our rejoicing that one of us has been so signally honored. Let your body rest now; it has served you well this day — Luigi (impatiently and contemptuously): Rest! Why should he rest? Has he done his share of work today? Work! Hah! He tramped ail over the city like any drunken loafer, caring little that better men should sweat to support him. You encouraged him in this, you with your sanctimonious face and pious cant about sufïering and poverty. (The Guardian listens humbiy.) And what do you do for a living, priest? Nothing! You sit hère up to your neck in the good things that thèse poor fools beg for you; and before they get even a smell of their own returns, you take the best. (Dominico and Enrico start forward abruptly with indignant e)aculations, but Guido stops them. Neither Luigi nor the Guardian take s any notice.} Take shame to your grey hairs, you disreputable wretch, for teaching thèse men the éléments of laziness and incompétence. Much better were they out working in the fields, and you in your grave. Well, you will stop ail this pietistic rubbish or 1*11 see to it that you are run out of town. Keep away from my house; don't expect to hâve your sluggard bellies filled with the bread of my labor. Neither I
10 THE DEMON PREACHER
myself nor any of my family will hâve anything more to do with you. The people are disgusted with your shiftless whining and are ready to burn this place to the ground and you with it. The Governor shall hear of the industrious habits of this nest of parasites; and he'll destroy you as he would a nest of vermin. (He strides toward the door.)
Guard.: My son, reconsider your words. (Luigi stops in midstride and turns around.) Surely you cannot leave hère with such bitterness in your heart. Some day you will be lying on your deathbed, and you may want a friar beside you to pray for your soûl as it passes into the silence.
Luigi : When I die, my soûl will take care of itself rather than be the prey of a beggarly shavepate. I would rather hâve the devil at my bedside —
(Previously the crowd had been giving their hearty approval to Luigi's denunciations , but this last remark of his is too much for them to swallow.)
One of the Crowd (interrupting): Messer, messer!
Think what you say! In God's name call back your
words — Luigi (turning furiously) : Silence, dog! I repeat, I would
rather hâve the devil at my bedside.
(He goes out slamming the door behind him, and so shutting out both himself and the crowd of townspeople.)
Dom.: This is outrageous, Father! How dare he talk like that to you?
Guard. (wearily) : Yes, yes, I know, Brother. But you will nnd that most men will dare any outrage when they hâve lost their faith.
Dom.: Father, ail this trouble cornes of trying to live the Rule too strictly. Surely Francis did not mean that we should hâve nothing and thereby put our bodies in péril. (Murmurs of assent and agreement from ail except Bernardino and Gumo.)
Enr.: Yes, the Rule cannot be stretched to fit thèse changed times. We would hâve done better to hâve accepted lands like the other communities. Our Father Francis did not mean that his children should perish for their keeping of the dead letter.
Dom.: Suppose we sell the silver vessels of the church? This trouble probably cornes upon us for over-richness in our church furniture. If we be sons of poverty, wooden vessels will serve our turn and befit us best.
Guard.: Do you not know, my children, that we may neither retain lands nor sell any goods for our own maintenance without mortal sin? Remember that we are pilgrims and strangers in this world, serving the Lord in poverty and humility. God has promised His help to us; can you question His word? You must hâve such utter confidence in God that nothing can interrupt that song of rejoicing and thanks which sings in the quiet of your hearts. If we let thèse misfortunes incite us to sin — the crimes of distrust, suspicion and despair — we deliver ourselves into the hands of the tempter. Trust in God, then; trust in Him even when the grip of the tempter is at your throat; for Satan himself in his own realm of terror
12 THE DEMON PREACHER
must obey the eternal decrees of his Maker. Make yourselves strong, Brethren, by accepting thèse trials as a soldier accepts his armor: which is surely heavy and a torment to the flesh, but in which he finds his only protection.
Dom.: That's ail very well, Father, but the important question now seems to be whether or not we are to starve to death hère in the midst of plenty.
Enr.: Aye; and how about the hâte of the citizens? Must we put our lives into danger? I insist that in trying to keep the letter of the Rule we are attempting the impossible. We ought to abandon this house and go somewhere else and hâve lands to support ourselves. After ail, our greatest duty is to pray, not to scurry about the town after food like a pack of hungry rats.
Guido: Brother, your language is becoming unrestrained. That speech of yours was not worthy of our profession of humility.
Dom.: I know, Father; but our backs are against the wall. What is the use of staying hère in the midst of hatred and scorn? Did not Francis himself forbid his children to remain in a place where they are not wanted, even for the persécution of their bodies?
Bern.: Yes, but you must remember that that command was laid upon us only if due authority should banish us. So far no authority has told us to get out. When it does, I shall be the first to leave; in fact, the only thing you will be able to see of me will be a pair of fast heels disappearing in a cloud of dust. And thus shall I both keep the instructions of our Father
and at the same time make my own life worth living. Hasten the day!
Guard.: Bernardino is right, Brother. We are not the cause of our own misf ortunes ; to go away now would be a confession of guilt and the abandonment of a place of trust. No, we must stay hère and continue our strict manner of life. In the meantime — pray.
Enr. (disgustedly): Pray, pray, pray! That's ail I ever hear —
Guido (to Enrico) : Brother, your insolence passes my understanding.
Guard.: Let be, let be, Guido. We cannot scold anyone weaker in trust than ourselves —
Enr. (turning abruptly to the Guardian) : Yes, "let be!" You hâve let things be for so long now that we are in danger of our lives. Is prayer going to fîll an empty stomach?
Bern.: It might.
Enr. (turning to htm angrily) : Will it save my body from being beaten and thrown in the ditch?
Bern.: It has saved better men than you from worse things than that.
Guard. (s terni y to Enrico) : Silence! How can you stand there and berate your Maker because at times the goad becomes aggravating? I hâve told you, Brother, that prayer is the only means for banishing thèse temptations. We shall go to the chapel now and pray for peace to reign in our hearts. Corne.
Enr. (stubbornly, imultingly, with the implication in his voice that the Guardian doesn't know what he's
14 THE DEMON PREACHER
talking about) : If I do any praying, it will be for food.
Guard. (softly and gently) : Enrico, my Brother, you are being sifted as wheat. (Enrico is shamefaced.) Pray for what you wish, but pray; and remember, the world is well lost if we gain Christ.
(The Guardian places his arm over Enrico's shoulder and leads him out. The others jollow. The light dims gradually. Satan enfers. He is tall, dresse d ail in sooty black, and wears a black mantle. He walks proudly, his whole bearing indicating his great pleasure and glee.)
Satan (delightedly): A victory! a victory! (He laughs.) I've stirred up hâte and rébellion in thèse poor fools' hearts; and before long I'il hâve their soûls. (He turns and sees the crucifix on the watt. It seems to glow in the darkness. He shrinks back and addresses the crucifix.) Hah, Prince of Suprême Folly, Thou canst not save them, eh? Bah! We of hell are avenged on Thy human race. Thèse friars are as good as damned.
(A crescendo of prayer is heard jrom the chapel; pianissimo') : Holy Archangel Michael, (piano) : défend us in battle, (rnezzo forte) : that we may not perish (forte) : in the tremendous judgment.
Satan: What' s that?
(The prayer continues jrom the chapel, loudly, then dying aivay; fortissimo) : Holy Michael the Archangel,, (forte) : défend us in battle, (mezzo forte) :
be our protection (piano) : against the malice (pianissimo) : and snares of the devil. . . . (When the voices are silent there cornes a flash of lightning and a tremendous crash of thunder. Satan falls to the floor.)
Satan: Who is there?
Voice of St. Michael: O Fallen Star of the Morning, 1 am Michael, one of the seven who stand before the throne of the Most High. I corne to drive thee hence and once more to humble thy pride.
(Satan looks up diagonally at the heavens; throughout the while he answers to the Voice of Michael.)
Satan (laughing hatefully, triumphantly): Bah! Thou mayest do thy will. I hâve scored a victory over thee despite thy sword and the légions of angels at thy call. Thou art scored, thou proud, braggart servant! Thy will? Nay, but I hâve had mine. There is not one of ail thèse f riars but has done me a good service this day, for they hâve doubted God's word and mistrusted His promise. A thousand times did I buffet them with temptations; temptations of the will — to rebel against the commands of a mère man, to rise and mock the authority of the Church. Temptations of the flesh — to yield to the burnings in their entrails, to succumb to the fascination of vile fantasies. And I failed. But at last I hâve them. I struck at their empty bellies, at their scorned pride, and they fell. They are mine. I turned the minds of the people to
16 THE DEMON PREACHER
hâte, and they are mine. Thus hâve I conquered. (He vises to bis jeet and hïs voice rings out in triumph.) When the time cornes and they drudge out their last breaths, they shall go to swell the mass of damned soûls already stewing in the broken-hearted despair of hell. They are mine. I am well content to go and leave them thus.
Voice of Michael: Fool! Knowest thou not that what thou dost is done only with the permission of the Almighty? Knowest thou not that thou art leading the Brethren in the path of grâce? For thou hast brought them poverty and they yearn for poverty. Thou hast brought them blows and they ask for blows in the name of Christ. That is their life and their treasure: to offer to God as a sweet incense, for their own rédemption and for the heip of mankind. The work of Francis is strengthened in the land, and thou, fool, claimest a victory! Where is thy victory?
Satan: Is it so? And must I fail? No, no ! (He lashes himself into a jury.) No! Other plans — other stratagems! Starving avails not: then I shall fatten them. They accept poverty: then will they accept riches as gladly, and the venom of the snake hidden among the coins. Ah, I hâve them! They shall lie upon silk and grow fat on the fleshpots of hell and their bodies shall suffer no want —
Voice of Michael : What thou dost is done with the permission of God. Their soûls thou shalt not harm.
Satan: Their soûls they shall themselves harm, for they shall trade them to me for the pièces of silver I bring them.
Voice of Michael: Thus doth God give thee leave: ail that they hâve is in thy hand ; only put not f orth thy hand upon their persons.
Satan: What care I for their persons except as a way to their soûls? Their persons will be pampered; and I shall be there dressed as one of them to preach a deadly charity to the citizens and a damning laxity to them. Yes, I shall take on their dress of a beggar, the meanest of mankind, that mankind which is lower than myself, and preach the hated Gospel to mine own ends. Shall Francis be served, that Francis who was ever my deadliest enemy? No! Rather would I stir up hell to vomit its hatred into the stars, and shake the foundations of the universe itself, and pull down création into loathsome nothingness!
(The voie es from the chapel are heard; forte) : . . . défend us in battle, (mezzo forte) : be our protection (piano): against the malice (pianissimo): and snares of the devil. . . . (The voie es fade to silence.)
Voice of Michael: Begin the trial, then; but forget not
that thou art only an instrument — Satan: An instrument, bah! I am the prince of the world
and of hell, no instrument of heaven; nor can heaven
itself curb my might.
Voice of Michael: Put thy power to the test. But re-
member the command laid upon thee, which can be
changed by nothing. Obey!
(A flash of lightning. Thunder. Satan screams in hâte and vanishes. The refectory is gradually
18 THE DEMON PREACHER
lighted again. Enter the Guardian, Guido, Bernardino, Dominico, Enrico, and the other friars.)
Guard.: I hope thèse prayers hâve changed your hearts,
my Brethren.
Enr. : Father, I am ashamed of — of the way — I — Guard. (gently and smilingly) : Yes, I know, Enrico. You hâve been tried in a white-hot flame. Remember though that the sufïerings of this présent time are not worthy to be compared with the glory to corne that shall be revealed to us.
(There cornes a knock on the door. The Porter opens it and the Governor of the city, a fat, pompons man, walks in.)
Guard.: Peace to you, Your Excellency.
Gov. : And to you, peace. I corne — ah — on a very strange errand — ah — Father. You know that I hâve always bef riended you, but — ah — things hâve corne to such a pass that I am — ah — constrained to — ah — ask you to go away and abandon this monastery. Now — ah — but a short time ago there came — ah — some citizens to my palace to complain of a riot that one of your community caused, and I was forced to arrest a few of the — ah — ringleaders. So — ah — to avoid ail trouble in the future and to insure the peace of the city, of which I am the most — ah — responsible guardian, I must ask you to — ah — go ; yes — ah — to, in short — ah — go.
Guard.: But, Your Excellency, this is unjust! We were not the causes of the riot. It was —
Gov. (boreâ) : Yes, yes, I know. One blâmes the other, and the other blâmes — ah — another, and so it — ah — goes until justice is ail confused, and — ah —
Guard.: But at the same time we must refuse to leave unless under orders from the bishop.
(The Governor is astounded. His eyes pop. He pushes his chest forward like a pouter pigeon and acts quite the "miles gloriosus.")
Gov.: Haw! Do ye flout my orders, sirrah! Do ye refuse to go away when I, the Governor, banish you! 1*11 drive you out with the condottieri! 1*11 burn you alive! 1*11 hâve your heads for it! 1*11 — 1*11 —
Bern. (tapping the Governor on the shoulder) : Your
Excellency — Gov. (swirling round in even greater indignation) : Now,
what the devil's this? What do you want, you beg-
garly lout?
Bern. (placatingly) : Did you — hâve you — would you
like to hear Guido sing?
Gov. (becomes purple with rage) : I'm damned if I ever
heard of such insolence! Sing! Who said anything
about singing! You filthy tramp — Guard. (severely): Bernardino, will you hold your
tongue? Haven't we enough to endure without suffer-
ing your ill-timed jokes?
Bern. (going aivay apart, shrugging his shoulders) : Well,
it was a good idea, anyway.
Gov. (speaking in sententious numbers from the im péril ed
height of his governorship) : Another example of the
unparalleled impertinence that dared to provoke the
20 THE DEMON PREACHER
peace-loving townspeople and endanger the tranquillity of the city. (To the Guardian.) Listen hère, you fool; ail of you be out of my province within three days or I'il hâve you dragged out by my soldiers. I can't hâve any more of this lazy, shiftless living right under my nose. Get out! I dont want to see any more of your kind again —
(He is interrupted by a knock on the door. The Guardian signs to the Porter to open. Satan enter s dressed in the rough habit of the Order, with mantle and raised cowl. A singular majesty of bearing is discerned even through that poor, despised garb of poverty — an air of command. The grandeur and nobleness of his aspect, and the bright flash of his eyes gleaming beneath the thick hood shadowing his face, compel respect. His face looks elongated, unearthly. The friars edge forward with surprise and interest, while the Governor is struck in spite of himself, and also hugely disgusted.)
Satan : Deo gratias, my Brethren. (His voice is singularly musical and résonant. They show by their demeanor that the sound affects them strangely.) I would speak with the Guardian.
Guard. (in astonishment): Mother of God! Who are you, Brother, and whence do you corne?
Satan: I corne from very far, and I was led hère by the hand of — God. (He h as difficulty in saying the divine name.) So very far away was I when it was laid upon me to corne hither, that doubtless were I to name the place you would not know it; for it is a
country little spoken of, and the sun itself shines not on it as on yours.
Guard.: And your name, good Brother? You are of our Order?
Satan: I am called Obedientius Obligatus; and I wear your habit, as you see. In the old days before I put it on, they called me Cherubino.
Guard.: Well, good Brother, you are surely welcome. I would we had aught to offer you, but the times go hard with us, and you hâve chosen an untoward moment for your visit. The men of this city hâve risen up against us and will do nothing for our support. Even now we are being threatened with banishment or death.
Obligatus (as we shall call him for a whtle) : Who threatens you?
Guard.: His Excellency, the Governor, who stands before you.
Obl.: The Governor, eh? (He eyes the Governor up and down.) Do you threaten to drive us out?
Gov.: I shall certainly hâve — ah — them dragged out of town if they are not gone in three days.
Obl. (musmgly): So you will drive us out! (To the Guardian.) Ask the Brethren to go over to that side of the room. (The Guardian accompanies the friars to one corner of the room. Obligatus takes the Governor by the arm with an air of secrecy.)
Obl. (confidentially) : Your Excellency, do you remember what happened to the ten thousand ducats you collected for the Duke in taxes, when you sent him only a thousand? (The Governor starts in surprise.) And
22 THE DEMON PREACHER
why did you hâve those four men executed last
month? Was it to serve the interests of justice or to
seize their property?
Gov. {in surprise and disquiet) : How in God's name
knew you that?
Obl.: And do you know, Your Excellency, why the corpse
of little Maria, the shoemaker's daughter, was found
in the river?
Gov. (in absolute ténor) : Who are you? Obl.: Hâve you quite matured your plans to betray this
province into the hands of the Duke of Milan?
(The Governor shrinks back, star in g at Obligatus with terror-stricken eyes.)
Gov.: I know you now! I know you now!
Obl. (evenly): I am not so unrecognizable. You and I,
Excellency, hâve been quite good bedfellows before
this; no?
(The Governor slinks backward, then edges toward the door, ail the pomposity oozing out of him. His hands tremble. He moistens his lips constantly. When he arrives at the doorway he stares back at Obligatus and then go es out hurriedly. Obligatus thereupon gazes at the friars for a while before he speaks, in a contemptuous, even, cool voice, with the suspicion of a sneer.)
Obl.: Are thèse the soldiers of their Lord, the sons of him who wore the wounds of the Crucifled, the children of the saints and the followers of the martyrs? A few days of-want hâve corne upon you, and where is your
confidence? You trusted and prayed — when God gave you abundance; and were ready with pious speeches and brave words when the alms-boxes came home full; and now, after a few days of trial, your faith and courage hâve ail fled away, and you are ready to believe that God's word, which He promised to your fathers, is about to fail! Therefore do you err grievously, inasmuch as you do wrong to the truth and fidelity of the — Most High. (As he speaks thèse final words he turns away! and across ht s face cornes an agony of suffering. He wrings ht s hands. Meanwhile the other friars hâve been listening in fascination?)
Enr. (to another friar) : Saw you that? He is surely a saintly soûl whom it grieves even to speak of sin. I well believe that the secrets of our soûls are manifest to him.
Obl. (turning swiftly upon Enrico) : Yes, they are manifest. And you, who so lately gave your vows to God, stand now before Him half-resolved to break your faith and dally with the gifts and lands of the lovers of this world, lest you suffer too hard an abstinence for your délicate frame. (To ail the friars.) O fools, and slow of heart ! did you not know that sooner than one word of His should fail, the angels themselves would bring you food? Nay, the very démons would be forced to serve you and minister to your needs.
Guard.: My Father, you are ail unknown to us, yet we can well see that you speak by the spirit of God. We cannot resist or gainsay your words, for they hâve a strange power with them; and for my part I feel
24 THE DEMON PREACHER
that, corne what may, I will now die a thousand deaths before I infringe one letter of the Rule of Francis.
Dom.: You hâve conquered, Father, and are to us even as an angel of God. (Obligatus turns away and covers his face with his hands.) Do with us as you will, for we know verily that He speaks by your mouth.
Obl. (after a pause): My Brethren, God has been very angry; but He will be appeased by your prayers and humiliations. As for me, the task is mine now to provide in His name for ail your wants.
Guard.: But what of the Governor? Will he not return to make good his threats?
Obl.: He will not return. I answer for it — he will not return. Fear nothing now, but let us go to our rest. I assure you that the morning will dawn upon a new order. This night ends the reign of jealousy and envy and pride.
{Cm tain)
ÇCwo weeks later, outside the monastery toward evening. A group of peasants, men and women, enter headed by Giuseppe, and meet another group led by Pietro, entering from another direction. They hâve just returned from market and are carrying baskets of provisions, sacks of flour, corn, etc.)
Gius. [a powerful, muscle-bound, clumsy body allied to the smallest possible amount of brains consistent with movement and a low cunning to enable htm to Vive; with the high col or of a persistent en gui fer of food, a toothsome smile for everyone, a blanketing personality, and a good opinion of himself) : Well met. What bargains hâve you ?
Piet.: Good ones. And how went your buying?
Gius.: No cause to complain. I go home no poorer in goods than I came in money. Ah, what thieves are those merchants! See. {He pulls a Vive chicken from his basket and holds it up.) This I got for almost nothing. Feel. The fat on the breastbone! The size of the legs! A true bargain! Guess how much I paid for it. Corne, guess.
Piet. (shaking his head): I don't know; three crowns?
Gius.: Bah! {turning to another.) How much did I pay, eh? {But the other doesn't know and neither do any of the four or five whom Giuseppe requests to guess.) Hah! Nobody knows. I am one smart man, eh? I tell you. For this chicken I paid — only — three
26 THE DEMON PREACHER
— pence! (Sounds of admiration and wonder from his listeners.) What you think now of Giuseppe, eh? (He nuages Pietro with his elbow.) I went up to a stall and I said, "I want a big chicken and I want him cheap." My woman, Margarita, was right behind me and she heard everything; eh, Margarita?
Marg. (stepping forward) : Si, si.
Gïus.: And I said, "I want him cheap." And the keeper was a Jew, and he rubbed his hands and grinned and said, "I haff joost de t'ing." So he pulled out a little chick which wasn't much bigger than the tgg it came from, and he said, "Sooch a nice, fat, big bird, and ail for t'ree crowns." So I said to him like this (rapping himself on the chest), "I am Giuseppe, and I am not to be cheated"; eh, Margarita?
Marc: Si, si.
Gïus.: And so he saw he couldn't fool Giuseppe and he pulled this out from a coop and said, "Four crowns." So I laughed and started to walk away. Not that I would go away, of course; but I know how to handle thèse thieves, eh, Margarita?
Marc: Si, si.
Gïus.: So he yells after me, "Three crowns"; and I turn round and say, "It isn't any bigger than the first one. Think you that you can fool Giuseppe?" And he says, "Sooch a fat, chunky fowl; choost two crowns and den I can shut up the booth and go home." And I say, "I can buy ail the chickens in the market for two crowns." And he says, "Make me an offer. Go on, joost make me an offer." So I say, "Three pence." And he started to tear out his hair and cry, "I'm
ruined, I'm ruined!" So I talk to him fast, and when I stop to take a breath my woman hère, Margarita, she talks fast, and when she stops to take a breath I talk fast — eh, Margarita ?
Marc: Si, si.
Gius.: And then she talks, and I talk, and at last the Jew he leans his head on the counter and says, "Take heem away, I'm going deaf !" So I planks down three pence and takes the bird and cornes away. What you think now of Giuseppe? He's one smart man; eh, Margarita?
Marc: Si, si.
(A hum oj approval and comment avises from the crowd.)
Piet.: Hah, yes, you are clever; but there is one cleverer than you, Giuseppe.
Gius.: What! What! Who? Where?
Piet.: Obligatus, the new friar who came hère a fortnight ago.
(At once the group vives utterance to another outburst oj wonder, praising Obligatus with such remarks as): What a holy man! — His sermons are like honey. — Nay, but he speaks so of hell that I tremble when I hear him. — What a change he has made in the townspeople ! — Aye, the f riars are beggars no longer, with their new monastery and ail. — I hear it is almost finished. — And enough money to buy ail of Tuscany!
Piet.: Yes, Giuseppe. I fear we did wrong before Obligatus came. He has shown us the real way to heaven.
28 THE DEMON PREACHER
Glus.: I agrée. The friar preached one time on hell, and I, even I, was frightened, and the hair stood up on my head, and the goose pimples were ail over me as big as eggs; eh, Margarita?
Marc: Si, si — I think so.
{Enter Brothers Dominico, Enrico and Agostino. Agostino bas a huge market basket covered with a cloth from which protrude fruits, a bottle, etc. He is tall and strong and carries the basket with ease.)
Piet.: I can well believe it. Hère are some of the Brethren now. A welcome to you, good friars.
Glus, (pushing his bulk through the crowd and speaking effusively and exclamatorily, a greasy smile draped over his face) : A welcome surely! Well, well, well! What a big basket! Someone was good to the friars, eh?
Agos. (as loudly as Giuseppe, meeting htm smile for smile) : Yes. We were coming home through the market and this is what we collected, or rather this is what was forced upon us, for we weren't looking for alms.
Gius.: No, you hâve plenty thèse days, I hear. As rich as so many dukes ! Ah, the poor friars live highly thèse times. What's in the basket? (He folds back the cloth covering without so much as a by-your-leave, but Agostino lets him hâve his way good-humoredly enough.) What's this? (He holds up each article as he exclaims over it.) Eggs! Butter! Grapes! A chicken! (To Margarita.) Not so big as the one I
got though, eh? (He returns to his prying.) Wine!
Hah, the Brothers live like princes! And hère we are,
content with bread and water.
Marc: And chicken.
Agos.: Well, 'tis what was given to us and we did not refuse it. But take my word for it that we do not eat
like this ail the time.
Gius.: Ah, the friar's life! No work to do — full stomachs
— no fear of losing your home!
Agos.: Don't you call praying work?
GlUS.: Praying! I wish — yes, I, Giuseppe, wish — that
ail I had to do was to pray and get fed for it. It's the
easiest thing anyone can do.
Agos.: Oh, is it?
Gius.: Yes, it is. Flop down on your knees, and gabble,
gabble, gabble, "Give us foodibus, give us foodibus";
then go to the refectory and what do you find there? Dom.: What?
Gius.: Food! That's what.
(He snaps his fingers and struts a few steps, well satisfied that he has the better of the argument.}
Agos.: Well, if it's so easy, then you must hâve the courage to back your opinion.
Gius.: I? Courage? Know you then, friar, that I, Giuseppe, never lack courage.
Agos.: Hâve you enough to make a wager?
Gius.: Wager? Come, what is it?
(The others draw doser surprised at the idea of a friar betting.)
30 THE DEMON PREACHER
Agos. : This basket of food against a Pater and Ave.
Gius. (only half comprehending) : What?
Agos.: If you flop down on your knees now and say a
Pater and Ave without interrupting yourself, I will
givQ you this basket.
Gius.: The eggs and the butter and the grapes and the
chicken?
Agos.: Precisely. The eggs and the butter and the grapes
— and the chicken.
Gius.: And ail for one Pater and Ave?
Agos.: Yes.
(Giuseppe doubles up in laughter. île staggers over to Pietro and slaps htm on the back.)
Gius.: Here's where I get the better of a friar. They've always had me by the neck. One Pater and Ave, and I eat for a month!
Piet. (to Agostino) : Don't go through with this, Brother. Every bit of food you get you hâve to beg for, and I know that sometimes you hâve hard enough going. For my part I hold that you are entitled to a good basketful. Everyone knows what the food in the monastery is like.
Dom.: And what will Father Guardian say when you report you lost ail this food in a wager?
Piet. : Think of the explaining you'll hâve to do.
Agos. : Father Guardian seems too disturbed thèse days to bother about a basket. He is evidently worrying about something.
Gius. (anxious to conclude the bar gain) : No, no, no! He made the proposai and must see it through. The eggs
and the butter and the grapes and the chicken and everything.
Agos.: They are ail yours for a Pater and Ave.
Gius.: Good. Give the basket to my wife. (He falls to his knees.)
Enr. (privately in Agostino's ear ) : If he wins we'll hâve our fîngernails for supper!
Agos.: We'll see.
Gius. (with eyes fast closed) : Our Father, Who art in heaven, hallowed be Thy name; Thy kingdom come; Thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread, and forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us; and lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil. Amen. Hail Mary, full of grâce, the Lord is with thee — (He j al ter s and stops. Then he vises to his jeet and runs over to Agostino.) Do I get the wine, too? (He suddenly rea/izes what he has done and is utterly dumbfounded. The others are delighted at his discomfiture. Margarita takes him by the ear and le ad s him aside.)
Marg.: For an old fool, you are the prize of ail Tuscany.
(After the gay tumult has subsided, Pietro speaks to Agostino.)
Piet.: You hâve afïorded us a pleasant moment this day,
Brother.
Agos.: Was this meeting of yours the usual gossiping after
the market?
Piet.: What would you? Tis only on market-days that
we hâve the chance to meet and crack a word to-
32 THE DEMON PREACHER
gether. At other times it is nothing but plow and
hoe and reap, plow and hoe and reap, from before
light till after dark, and the night does not give
enough rest.
Gius. {thrusting himself forward) : And I, Giuseppe, plow
and hoe and reap more than anybody. And between
times, so hard do I work, I never talk; do I, Mar- - garita?
Marc: Yes, you do: too much.
Gius.:Eh?What?
Piet. (pushmg him back) : Now, now, now. You make
up for it on market-day. But, Brother, how goes it
with the good Obligatus?
Enr.: Very well. He is busy overseeing the building of
our new home. It is indeed almost finished. Piet.: It was begun only a week ago! It is a miracle! Agos.: So we think it. But he has a knack for making the
workmen do their best.
Piet. {becomïng conjidentiaï) : Do you think that if you
asked him, he would come hère and give us a little
sermon? Hère we are ail to gether and we want to
hear his words before we départ.
(A hum of approval rises from the crou>d.)
Enr.: Why, I think so. I will ask him. (Exit.) Giovanni {another of the peasants, secretzvely) : Is it not strange, gossips, that so big a building should be raised in so short a time? Do you think that he has come from heaven with a power above nature in order tp help the poor friars? Could not God hâve
sent him for that purpose? Suppose he were some great saint! Suppose he were St. Francis himself!
Piet.: St. Francis! {To the crowd). There may be something in that.
Marg. {coming forward) : Trust a woman to know the truth. How can he be Francis with his proud walk and the fire flashing from his eyes? Was not Francis a little, poor man, and meek, and humble? No, this Obligatus is a great man truly, and a mighty one, but he is not so great as II Poverello.
Gius. (elbowing his way through the crowd): Yes, and I think —
Marg. (interrupting him) : Shut up. Don't make a bigger fool of yourself than you hâve to. {She turns to Ago- STINO.) What think you, Brother?
(There sound in the distance faint mutterings of thunder.)
Agos.: I think you speak truly. He has force and power,
but lacks Father Francis' gentleness and kindness. Piet.: Hist! Hère he cornes. {Enter Obligatus.) Wel-
come, good friar.
Obl.: I received your summons and hâve hastened. Piet.: We thank you. We wished before going to our
homes to hear some little word from you to ponder
till the next time we are in town. , Obl.: There is a storm coming this way. Do you think
you ought to delay?
Piet. : Only a few words, Brother. The storm will hold off . Obl.: Well then — {He mounts a huge stone and stands
for a little while in thought. The faint growlings of
34 THE DEMON PREACHER
the approaching storm are heard throughout the sermon, and it grows so dark that when he finishes, night bas f ail en.) Evening is upon us, my children, the time to begin our rest. During this day we passed through a little lifetime: the beauty of the morning and the stirring life of it is the innocence and the sleeping power of childhood and youth. The whole world was before us, a beautiful world of laughing emerald and inspiring silver and challenging crimson. Our world — to be embraced and cherished and loved and made our own. A world bursting with the promise of fascinating things which were to reward us merely for living. We reached eager hands toward them and called to them in laughing bubbles of speech. They in turn ever escaped us, shyly avoiding our ardent pursuit, luring us farther and farther through the soft temple-green of buoyant childhood. Till at last a shimmering ruby glow présages the end of youth, and we plunge fulltilt into the fiery noon of manhood. The pursuit has not ended: it dérives greater eagerness as we realize gradually that thèse things of fascination are not to be seized thus easily. Our energy redoubles. We hurl ourselves in a fury of passion along the course. Our bodies are taut and our faces grim as the strain of the race begins to exact a price. The violent crimson manhood in our veins incites us to greater endeavors in the quest for the promised goals. We are borne along in the flux of madness, while far ahead, as unattainable as ever, yet seemingly accessible, glide the fantasies of our desires, laughing us on, renewing our strength. And
then we stumble over some unevenness in the track; we waver, and, as our strength seeps from us like the life-nuid from a wounded forest oak, we collapse, gasping, into the purple sombreness of âge.
(The Guardian enter s and stands listening almost hidden by the croivd.)
We lie there in a stupor, numbed by the mad . straining of the race, swallowing great mouthfuls of rest. We are bathed in languor, content with inactivity, scornful of the frenzied rush of the runners who pass us by so closely. We hear as in a dream the low mutter of an approaching storm, and heed it not. The rumbling increases, spreads like a swelling wave until it beats upon our exhausted bodies with doomsday thunderous roars. It warns us of the nearness of the Queen of Night — of Death — the mother of ail, out of whom we corne and to whom we return. She spreads over us her midnight cloak, kisses us with pallid lips into the silence, and bears us on whirlwind wings to the judgment. And the goals we had set for ourselves in the golden radiance of youth, which we pursued so passionately through the cardinal mist of manhood, and lost in disillusion in the amethyst murk of âge — thèse goals remain unattainable, lost to us, forever lost. There remain only the Kingdom and its Justice.
Thus it is ended. Hold this day before you as a pattern of your life. Remember this coming storm as a figure of death advancing upon each one of you. Keep yourselves in readiness, so that in your final de-
36 THE DEMON PREACHER
scent into the blackness you will hâve nothing to regret, nothing to repent; and may you endure without fear the searing lightning o£ judgment. (He steps down from the stone.) Go now to your homes; go in peace.
(It is now wholly dark. The storm still threatens in the distance.}
All: Bravo! Bravo!
Gius.: I couldn't do better myself.
Marc: Quiet!
PiET.: We thank you, Brother, for your kindness. And now in token of our appréciation and love, hère is some of the food I bought at the market. Please take it.
All (shoving themselves forward and holding out varions articles) : And mine. — Hère, Brother, hère is mine. — And mine. — And mine.
Obl.: Thank you, my children, thank you in the name of — God. But I cannot carry all thèse things alone. You must bring them to the monastery. Hère, thèse Brothers will help you.
(The two friars burden themselves with part of the load. The crowd shoulders the rest. A poor woman steps forward shyly and offers a small coin.)
Wom.: It is all I hâve, Brother, but I must give you
something for those sweet words.
Obl. (drawing himself up fiercely): A penny! A single
penny.! (The Woman shrinks back.) How far do you
think, wench, that a penny will go toward the new monastery? It would belittle me to take it — Guard. (stepping forward and interrupting) : Wait, Obligatus. (To the Woman.) My daughter, this is probably the most valued alms we hâve ever received. I take it with thanks in the name of God and His Son, Jésus Christ, Who will surely bless you in this life, and at the judgment will remember the great sacrifice you hâve made today. Peace be with you, and a thousandfold reward for your charity. (He makes the Sign of the Cross over her.) Now départ to your homes and pray for us.
(The people exeunt carrying tbeir baskets, etc., accompanied by the two friars.')
Guard. (having in the meantime led Obligatus aside) : I wish to speak to you, Brother. (Obligatus tries to avoid his glance, endeavors to keep his face turned away.} Brother, how goes the new convent? Is it well advanced?
Obl.: It is finished.
Guard.: How? Finished! Why it was begun but seven days ago!
Obl. (bitterly): And they hâve been seven years to me. Nevertheless, had I been so permitted, I could hâve done it in a day.
Guard. (musingly) : In a day? (Coldly.) God does not work miracles without necessity. Or — is — it — the — work — of — God?
Obl. (turning slowly to the Guardian) : You know me?
Guard.: Yes.
38 THE DEMON PREACHER
Obl.: How did you fïnd it out? Tell me. How?
Guard.: God sent a wolf once to prowl about the enclosure of a flock of sheep, in order to point out to the shepherd the many weaknesses in the wall. But He revealed His plan to the shepherd so that due précautions could be taken and not a lamb be harmed.
Obl.: Meaning — ?
Guard.: Meaning that God revealed to me that you were loosed for a time from hell to try our défenses of prayer. At first you sought to beat our soûls into despair, and then to smother them into listlessness under choking heaps of treasure. But we proved strong, not with our own strength but with the steel of God's grâce and the iron of His forgiveness.
Obl. {jiercely and impatiently) : God, always God! Did I not build you a convent? And can I not raise up for you a city or even a nation? I am powerful enough for that, of my own right!
Guard.: I know your power and I know its limitations.
Obl.: Bah! It is limited by no being.
Guard.: It is limited by God. He permits your présence hère for a time only, and beyond that time you cannot stay.
Obl.: I came hère to do a task for mine own ends, and it is now finished. That is évidence of my power. But Fil hâve my pay. I stay hère until I am paid in soûls, the soûls of ail your smirking Brethren. And I shall carry them down to hell with me as I hâve so often carried this last fortnight the misérable alms to your convent.
Guard.: When the tower chime rings midnight tonight you must leave this world.
Obl.: Midnight tonight! Nay, worthy Father, how can I go back to that misery? This world with its mealy piety and its talk of God, God, God, lashes me with a hundred whips; but in hell I am scourged with a thousand serpents. The anguish of hell ! The frightful torture of it! (Pleadingly.) Do not plunge me into it! You know not what your condemnation means.
Guard.: I do not condemn. You were judged and damned and lost before the beginning of time. It is the justice of the Most High. You départ at midnight.
Obl. (savagely) : Do you match your might against mine? Your feeble power cannot even raise your hand unless that God of yours wills it.
Guard.: Your power! You with your boasted power are less strong than our Father Francis.
Obl.: Yes, when he prays — a poor sort of power that is! Mine at least is mine own.
Guard. : And yet but a while since you were pleading with me not to send you back to hell. You, the king of hell, pleaded with a mère man who cannot raise his hand unless God wills it. Where was your power then? Had you forgotten about it?
Obl. (fiercely) : I still hâve it and you will feel its bitterness before long. I defy you to banish me.
Guard.: It is not I, but God, Who banishes you. (Taking him by the arm.) But silence. Hère cornes one of the Brothers, and I forbid you in the name of Christ to put scandai in his way.
40 THE DEMON PREACHER
Porter (entering excite dly) : Father Guardian, Father Guardian !
Guard.: Yes, my son?
Port.: A messenger has just corne from the Lady Octavia with word that Luigi is dying. She asks that Brother Obligatus be sent to exhort him and save his soûl.
Guard. (after thinking a whiW) : Tell the messenger, Brother, that Obligatus will be there.
Port.: Yes, Father. (Exit.)
Guard.: Hère is a test for that vaunted power of yours. See if it be greater than the God-given free will of man. Luigi's heart is like a stone. If you melt it, you are indeed greater than God. Both of the schemes you spawned in the foulness of hell are still-born. Hère is a task for your strength. Preach and rant at his bedside; call up a vision of hell. Then when you stand in abjection before the stone ramparts of a man's will, look and see what the gentle grâce of God can do. Go, then, and try to convert the merchant Luigi from his gold. I command you to this attempt in Christ' s name. Go.
(As Obligatus slinks oui, Guido and Bernardino enter by another way. Both hâve well-filled alms-sacks over their shoulders.)
Bern. (lowering his bag to the ground) : A good day, Father, a good day. I am always delighted to hâve a good begging day, because the better the day, the better the supper; and the better the supper, the better the night's rest; and the better the night's rest, the better the health; and the better the health, the
heartier the praying; and the heartier the praying, the higher the place in heaven.
Guido (tartly) : The eating is only incidental, then?
Bern. (pondering this) : No-o-o-o-o. The eating is conducive to the night's rest, to the health, to the praying, to the place in heaven. Ergo, eat and go to heaven. Simple?
Guido : Too simple. What of the fasting?
Bern.: Bad, bad. I never could understand, Guido, why I, who like to eat, must fast; while you, who wouldn't grow any less gloomy or any fatter if you ate an ox, are excused from the obligation.
Guido (ïndignantly'} : Do you think I enjoy being an exception?
Bern.: You ought to. I would. (To the Guardian.) Was that friend Obligatus who whisked away in such a hurry? Why did he not wait and try a crack with me?
Guard.: He has been called on a very important errand, Bernardino. Luigi is dying, and the Lady Octavia summoned Obligatus to try to save her husband's soûl.
Bern.: Dying? We heard somewhat of that in town, Guido.
Guido: Yes, but thought it was an exaggeration. As soon as one has the rheum, the gossips hâve him buried.
Guard.: I'm afraid it is true.
Guido: Cannot we do something for him?
Guard.: Nothing but pray. He is stubborn in his résolve not to be a child of Holy Church, and I fear that
42 THE DEMON PREACHER
unless he shows definite évidence of repentance, he
will die and be thrust into the ground like an animal. Bern.: Prayer then it must be. But trust Obligatus to
bring frim round. He has a most persuasive way
with him.
Guido: Do you remember, Father, what the last words
of Luigi were when he came to the monastery that
time with Brother Angelo?
Guard.: His last words? No, I cannot recall. Guido : As he was going out he said, "I would rather hâve
the devil at my bedside." Guard.: "The devil at my — " And he has his wish! It is
a judgment!
Bern.: A judgment?
Guard.: Yes. Do you know who Obligatus is? Guido: What has he to do with it?
Guard.: Look back at the time during which he was with
us. He never wore a rosary. We could never hear his
voice reciting the psalms in choir. In his sermons he
always had difriculty in saying the name of God. He
seemed to be working under an immense strain. Are
thèse things not peculiar?
Bern. 1 , , x xr ,
Guido j (exPectanth) ■ Yes?
Guard.: And then it was revealed to me who he is; how he was permitted by God to try our patience and love, and be a means for us to lay up more treasures in heaven. He is the very person of evil and pride, the enemy of heaven and mankind. Brothers, he is the incarnate Prince of Hâte himself!
Guido {In horror) : Satan!
Bern. {with a long whistle) : Satan! And hère I ate, slept and lived with the devil and I didn't know it!
Guard.: His mission ends at midnight tonight. Then he goes back whence he came.
Bern.: But before he goes, Father, let me kick him just once in the backside. I hâve always wanted to kick the devil.
Guard.: You will hâve nothing to do with it. I must go to Luigi's house and see that this "Obligatus" works no harm there to innocent people. Luigi will be saved, but I must be there to point the way and you must aid with the only thing you hâve — prayer. Can Satan send a man to heaven? Gather the Brethren together and bring them out into the fields far from our new house. There you will fashion a cross of two sticks and pray through the night. But go not into the monastery, for tonight Satan's work will perish.
Guido: Let me go with you, Father.
Guard.: No. My office as your shepherd carries spécial grâces which will guard me from danger. Of what use is a Guardian if he doesn't guard his children?
Bern.: But you must let us go with you for companionship at least.
Guard. (sharply) : I forbid you or any one of the community under Holy Obédience to corne near that house tonight. (Guido and Bernardino bow submissively and put their hands in theïr sleeves. Then the Guardian speaks more gently.) Pray, my sons; and then I shall know that I hâve more powerfui weapons than ail the légions of hell. Départ now; and once again I say, pray. Pray that I receive a
44 THE DEMON PREACHER
strength that will prove greater than the strength of darkness. For, Brethren, I am af raid — af raid !
(As the Guardian pronounces thèse last words, his voice breaks. Exeunt in opposite directions, the Guardian on one side and Guido and Bernardino together on the other. During the foregoing the storm has increased.)
(Curtain)
[A double scène comprising the room in which Luigi lies dying and the courtyard outside the house. Luigi is in bed, attended by Octavia and Alessandro Riccioli, the doctor. A group of peasants are in the courtyard on the other side of the wall, reciting the rosary in Latin in low, murmurous voices.)
Oct.: Is there no chance?
Doct.: None. He has not much longer to live; only a
few minutes.
Oct.: Oh, and what of his soûl? If his heart were only
softened to repentance, even in thèse last moments!
Would to God that the holy friar Obligatus were
hère. {She walks toward the door.) Benno! Benno (entering jrom the group outside the door) : Yes,
madonna?
Oct.: Are you sure that Friar Obligatus said he would
corne?
Benno: Yes, madonna; he was already on the way when
I left him.
Oct. (wringing her hands) : What keeps him, then? What
keeps him?
Obligatus {entering, passes through the ïourtyard group
and on into the room) : I am hère, my daughter. Oct.: Thank God!
Obl. (regarding Luigi intently) : He is indeed in need
of prayer and holy words, for his hour is corne at last. Oct.: Speak to him of repentance and save his soûl.
46 THE DEMON PREACHER
Luigi (weakly) : Is it you, friar? Ever haunting deathbeds like the rest of the beggarly crew, to snatch the pennies from the eyes of the corpse! Away, away! You'll.get nothing from me.
Obl.: I want nothing but your soûl.
Luigi : It is mine own, and 111 damn it or save it as I see fit.
Obl.: Aye, you'll treat it like a dog! That soûl of yours, that immortal treasure, will be forever buried in hell. Will you save it with riches, with the money you hâve piled up in the darkness of avarice? Will you save it with the treasures of lies and slander you hâve hoarded up in your quest for gold? Will you save it with the riches of ambition, greed and vice? You will be buried in a comn of molten glass, devoured by fire. You will feed upon acrid sulphur and your tongue will flame and glow like a live coal. Your eyes will writhe in sockets of fire; and your desires will rend and tear at your soûl in their futile passion to work evil. Remorse will seize upon your heart with iron claws. You will pray for a second death with the knowledge that it will never corne, that this anguish will reach into eternity, that, when millions of years hâve passed and future worlds are already growing old, this same pain will pierce your living bowels, this same remorse will claw your anguished heart, this same hâte will devour the torn mass of your soûl. Eternity! An eternity of endless agony. Ever to be shut ofï from the présence of God; ever to be eaten with fiâmes, gnawed by vermin, goaded with burning spikes; ever to be the prey of conscience;
ever to cry out of the abyss o£ lire to God for an instant, a single instant, of respite from such awful agony; ever to suffer, never to enjoy; ever to be damned, never to be saved; ever, never; ever, never. Repent, my son; repent before you pass through this yawning door of death. A movement of the will gives you the beauty of God, the glory of heaven. What are your riches now but so much dung. You must leave them —
Luigi: No, no! {The storm increases. The Guardian enters and goes to the bedside, opposite Obligatus.)
Obl.: Yes, you must leave them and go naked into the darkness. Even your will is as nothing, once you depart this life. Repent, repent; and look to God!
Luigi : What success I hâve had I hâve gained through my own powers.
Obl.: But this worldly success is of no use now. Outside there, in the blackness of extinction, lie two paths, one to God, one to hell. Choose!
Luigi : I cannot! I cannot!
{With a terrifie effort Luigi raises himself, a look of stark terror imprinted upon his face, and cringes away from Obligatus. This brings him doser to the Guardian, who falls upon his knees and enfolds Luigi in his embrace.)
Luigi (staring rigidly at Obligatus, and speaking in a
hoarse whisper') : My God ! My God !
Obl.: The two paths! Choose!
Luigi: I cannot!
48 THE DEMON PREACHER
( The Guardian h as been praying silently ail this time. Now he speaks aloud the continuation of his prayers.)
Guard. : . . . May Satan most foui with his wicked crew give way before thee; may he tremble before thee and the Angels that attend thee, and flee into the vast chaos of eternal night. . . . (Obligatus shrinks back a few steps.)
Luigi {who bas be corne a little child a gain, haunted and jull of fear) : Save me, Father, save me!
Guard.: Do you repent?
Luigi {speaking through the pregnant hush; his words hold as in a chalice ail the misery and hope, dejeat and vi et or y, of life) : I do.
Guard. (jubilantly) : Then — EGO TE ABSOLVO AB OMNIBUS CENSURIS ET PECCATIS IN NO- MINE PATRIS, ET FILII, ET SPIRITUS SANCTI. Départ, O Christian soûl, from this world in the name of God the Father Who created thee. (Luigi grows limp, and the Guardian lays htm back reverently upon the bed. He crosses the lifeless hands upon the heart, saying the while) : May the Angels lead thee into Paradise and may the Martyrs and the Choir of Angels receive thee. With Lazarus mayest thou hâve eternal rest.
(Octavia begins to weep and the Doctor draws the sheet over Luigi's face. The rosary ends.)
Obl. (springing back and speaking triumphantly) : Mine! Mine-own at length! Michael, thou art baffled now!
(Octavia shrinks back into the corner with a look of horror. The Doctor is startled, the people in the courtyard astounded.)
First Peasant: He is mad! His speaking has tired his
strength !
Second Peasant: Stop! What is this!
(For Obligatus seems to be wrestling with some strong power which is forcing him against his will. He stares straight ahead, wringing his hands, crying out broken sentences.}
Obl.: I cannot — nay, I will not! . . . He is mine, I say. . . . His damnation is upon him, and I will hâve him! (He dashes from the room into the courtyard and commences to speak to the people surrounding him. In the meantime the Doctor leads Octavia away through another door. The Guardian rises to his jeet and stands watching intently.) Hear me, ye people! (The peasant s become still, expectant.) Thus dies avarice. Thus do sin and greed and shame and cruelty crawl out of life, dragging their wounded selves into the murk of death. Hère is a man who died impénitent (the Guardian leaves the deathbed and hurries toward Obligatus) and who is even now being carried by démons down into hell!
Guard.: Silence, wretch! Would you lead thèse to despair? (He gestures toward the people.}
Obl. (without taking any notice of the interruption} : He faced death and mocked the Master of Death. (The storm increases to the end of Obligatus' speech.) Behold his end! Behold the wretch who drank from
50 THE DEMON PREACHER
the gutters of cruelty and greed during his lifetime! See how he struggles on the brink of hell — Guard. (seizing Obljgatus by the shoulder) : False! Ail falsel'His soûl was cleansed by the words of mercy. (But Obligatus is carried away by his proud seljdelusion. He throws the Guardian off and continues his tirade at a rapid tempo as though he were fighting against time) : See him being pulled down, down, down into everlasting agony! Hâte triumphs. Hâte, his king and lord, devours him — (A jag of lightning in the distance, followed by leaping fiâmes and the crash of a collapsing building. AH stand rigid. Then gradually as the storm subsides a little, the crowd of peasants, which has become greatly augmented, begins a murmur which rises to a shout) : Gone ! The monastery ! Lightning has burned the monastery!
(The Guardian steps forward and holds up his hand. The tumult subsides to comparative quiet. Then there is heard far off the sound of the first chime from the tower dock.')
Guard.: Thus perishes the work of hell. (Turning to Obligatus.) And now, your course is finished.
Obl.: Finished! The end! To go back and be plunged anew into that seething cauldron of blackness and hâte! (Second bell.) Screams, howling, filth poisoning the ears; filth, a deadly stench in the nostrils. And I must hasten back to that! At whose command? At whose command, I say! Hah! I know your answer. But -who is He? I hurled my strength against Him;
and were justice done — true justice — I would now be reigning with Him over this wretched création of a world. (Third bell.) Aye; ring, bell, ring. Call, till your brazen belly coughs out its last chime. I go not back. Hère I stay, and level another rébellion against Him and against His scurvy apostle, Francis, who holds my place in heaven. Must I worship the Being I hâte? Bah! (Turning to the peasants.) You stand ail agape as though at something strange. Do you not recognize the struggle you hâve suffered in your own flesh? (Fourth bell.) What, do you not know me, your prince? (He tears the habit from his body and stands clothed ail in black.) Behold me, then and fall down and worship. (The peasants shrink back.) Ah, ye shun me, ye pitiful cowards! Hâve ye too not rebelled by my command and besmirched the glory of that God of yours? Nay, I am your god; and ye must obey. You hear me? Ye must obey, or I dra'g your cowardly bodies down to the pool of hâte. Obey, ye fools! (Fifth bell. The storm increases.)
Guard. (starting forward): Stop! The Lord only shall they serve. (He holds up a crucifix.) Behold His sign! Behold the Cross of the Lord! Fly, ye powers of darkness! The Lion of the tribe of Juda, the root of David, hath conquered.
Satan (as we shall now call him, falling backivard to the ground) : Aye — conquered. As once, âges gone, He conquered; and as once in the land of blood and tears He was held aloft by ail my powers and ail my légions, and in the end He burst the door of night and — conquered. I prowled the world for an eternity
52 THE DEMON PREACHER
of years, unhampered and free, consulting mine own desires (sixth bell), and luring the subjects of the Almighty King from lives of faith to groves of lust and plenty. How changed am I from him who in the happy realms of light outshone the myriads of heaven! How changed am I, engulfed in misery and plunged in ruin to the ruined land of rage forever hopeless ! Rage ? Aye, and hâte. Relentless, implacable hâte — burning, always burning, and nourishing the old seeds of rébellion. To reign in hell is better than to serve in heaven. But then, why not reign in heaven? Is His power greater? Is the power of the Nazarene to overcome mine? (Seventh bell.) And you, priest; you stand there and think to vanquish me with a pièce of wood? A sign only, devoid of power! And you match that senseless thing against my will! My will, that fought with the Almighty, and forces His créatures to abandon Him! (He springs to his feet. The storm increases.) Away with it, priest! Still I prevail! Crash it to the ground, trample it, spurn it into the mud! It has no power, for only I am powerful! (He vuns jorward and is stopped abruptly by the uplifted cross. Eighth bell.)
Guard.: Behold the Cross of the Lord! Fly, ye powers of darkness ! The Lion of the tribe of Juda, the root of David, hath conquered!
Satan (wringing his hands) : Oh, for ten thousand légions of devils, priest, to tear your body, to grub out that soûl of yours and drag it to the death, to null that sign and lose it in the abyss where thèse dupes of yours no longer can find it! (Ninth bell.) Aye,
cling to it, priest, cling to it; and let thèse poor fools look upon their dead God. Dead (triumphantly) — and I killed Him! (Turning to the peasants.) What avails it to you to adore an image of wood? Where is its power? What does it bring you but suffering, pain and shame? It is the image of shame. What do you see? (The storm increases in jury.) A body hung between heaven and earth, with twisted limbs, and bloody head, and anguished face, and the cold sweat of death, and a heart already pouring out its last drop of life. Shall I tell you what I saw a thousand years ago on a Hill of Skulls? (Tenth bell.) A torn body, already carrion, and the life still in it. A rabble spitting out their hâte into the glare of a pitiless sun. Bearded priests making mock of the Thing there, crying out, as I now cry out (turning to the crucifix) , "Vah! If Thou be the Son of God, corne down from the cross!" Who was the master then? Who reigned over the people's hearts then? Was it that powerless Madman Whom my laws had slain? No. I was the master, I the king — I, your prince, the prince of this world! I stood behind the jewels of the nobles. I nlled the fat bellies of the rich. I reigned. (Eleventh bell. On hearing it, Satan pauses for an instant, a sculptured image of hâte. He speaks introspectively.) One chime is left to knell me back to torment! Bah, He is dead and dead is His power. (He résumes speaking to the mob of terrorized people.) I killed Him; I, the lord of création, your king, your prince, your master; and I command you now as I commanded âges ago — serve me; obey me; adore
54 THE DEMON PREACHER
me! Ail things shall be yours. What can He (pointing to the crucifix) give you? What has He given you? Ail power on earth is mine, and ail the earth is yours in exchange for obédience. (The storm redoubles in fur y.)
Guard. (loudly) : Behold the Cross of the Lord! Fly, ye powers of darkness! The Lion of the tribe of Juda, the root of David, hath conquered!
Satan (hiding his face and shrinking back) : Away with it! It is torture and defeat to me! Once more it has conquered ! I am lost and nothing and crushed and damned! (Twelfth bell.)
(During this last speech Satan's voice vises to a shriek. Upon the sound of the twelfth bell he disappears and his shriek diminishes gradually, to be lost in the distance. Little by Utile the storm subsides. When ail is silent, Francis appears, bathed in light. He is dressed in the garb of poverty, ragged yet somehow etherealized. His beautiful, almost translucent hands show the insignia of our Rédemption, as do his bruis ed feet. His face, gaunt and racked by suffering, is jdled with a celestial joy. He is the Francis of this earth, the unchanged Francis, suffused with the beauty of heaven but yet bearing the signs, so familiar to us ail and without which we would hardly recognize him, of his long and ardent penance of love. He raises his arms in bénédiction. The peasants murmur, Francis! It is Francis!, and the y and the Guardian kneel in awe at his feet.)
Francis: It is well donc Know then, my people, that prayer and the Cross of Christ will défend you from ail evil. May you be forever free from sin, and hold yourselves in readiness to enter the Kingdom. The grâce of God be with you. The Lord bless you and keep you. May He show His face to you and hâve mercy upon you. May He turn His countenance to you and give you peace. (He makes the Sign of the Cross in the air.) The Lord bless you.
(Final Curtain)
The next page contains suggestions for the lighting effects désirable in stage productions of The Démon Preacher.
