1879 — Martin Luther — Act 2
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Martin Luther – Act 2
London: Remington and Co., 1879, pages 58-93, 5,481 words
ACT II.
SCENE I.
A room in the tavern of Arminius, near Wittemberg.
Enter MILTITZ, TETZEL, FUGGER and CIPRIANO SORIA, followed by the HOST.
HOST.
What shall I serve unto your Excellencies?
FUGGER.
Nothing as yet. But tell me, is not this
The Tavern of Arminius?
HOST.
A mile
From Wittemberg.
MILTITZ.
We here have given meeting
To Martin Luther. Dost thou know him?
HOST.
Who
At Wittemberg, or thirty miles around,
Doth not know Martin Luther? He is preaching
The gospel to the peasants now beneath
The shade of our old oak.
TETZEL.
Well, bring him here
When he arrives.
[The HOST goes out by the back.
MILTITZ.
It is intolerable
Audacity.
TETZEL.
A scandalous heresy.
CIPRIANO.
He attacks beliefs believed for centuries,
He publishes a book unfearingly
Called Christian Liberty, what pious mind
Can read untremblingly what he would seek
To prove?
TETZEL.
Abomination!
CIPRIANO.
He affirms
Subjection of the creature to the devil
Even when it has striven toward escape,
And its imprisonment in sin when it
Arises toward the Godhead.
FUGGER.
Horror! horror!
MILTITZ (smiling).
Thou understandest, Fugger?
FUGGER.
Scarce as well
As banking business; but I think it none
Less horrible.
CIPRIANO.
Maxims most odious,
Authority for which he fain would prove
From writings of Saint Paul.
MILTITZ.
The sophistries
Of his interpretation!
CIPRIANO.
And by side
Of all this monstrous teaching, he lays down
As axiom the impeccability
Of every soul if it have perfect faith.
FUGGER.
Impiety!
MILTITZ (smiling).
Thou understandest, Fugger?
FUGGER.
No,
But that doth not prevent my thinking it
Unholy.
CIPRIANO.
Martin Luther goes so far
As to condemn the riches of our vestments,
And stigmatize the golden gonfalons,
The silk brocade, the wreaths, and in a word
The vast proud pomp of our religious rites,
As vain and earthy, ostentatious things
Which Christ's example should have shut and barred
Beyond the pale of Christianity.
TETZEL.
O impure schism!
CIPRIANO.
And lastly he denies
God's personal presence in the Eucharist!
MILTITZ.
O horrible heresy!
CIPRIANO.
I scarcely dare
Of his abominable writings here to speak!
His letter to the Archbishop of Mayence!
His other letter to his Holiness
Leo the Tenth! Two dark epistles where
Is keenly felt the devil's inspiration!
And that cursed manual of wickedness
He dared affix against the chapel's doors
Of All Saints Church, and that foul catalogue
Of blasphemies undreamt before by man,
Having for title: "The Captivity
In Babylon," and that more infamous
Statute, "Ecclesiae emendando," where
Luther declares the name of Antichrist
Is writ upon the forehead of all those
Who call themselves successors of Saint Peter.
TETZEL.
Yes, he has written that, this heretic!
CIPRIANO.
Sith in the time of Julius the Second
He went to Rome, he takes authority
Of an eye witness, and he states that there
He saw but one vast sweeping-up of fools,
And idiots, of thieves, and hypocrites,
Assassins, poisoners, whores and incubi!
That Rome is now a low lewd prostitute;
No longer Rome, but Babylon.
MILTITZ.
These things
He said, this Judas!
CIPRIANO.
And for crown to crown
Befittingly his work, he has proclaimed
That priests may marry. Now in street and field
Are met escaping nuns and disrobed monks.
TETZEL.
The ending of the world is nigh!
CIPRIANO.
The same
Was widely thought in the one thousandth year —
But with more reason such a thing may be
Believed in this year fifteen-twenty-one —
This ending of the world is doubly fatal
To us, for it doth gravely threat to see
The ending of the indulgences.
FUGGER.
O, triumph
Of vice!
MILTITZ.
This time thou hast well understood?
FUGGER.
This time, most marvellously well I may
Answer unto your Eminence, and I
May add that I am paid to understand,
Or more exactly, that I am not paid.
CIPRIANO.
Yes, yes, thou opulent financier,
Like us, this breme attack of Martin Luther's
Against the indulgences, thee strikes aback.
FUGGER.
O dire success of wickedness! How much
My conscience suffers! and my purse even more!
Look at the weaving of deplorable
Events! His Holiness to make a gain
Concedes for certain sum the right entire
To sell indulgences within the Duchy,
And the two provinces of Saxony
To the Archbishop Albert of Mayence,
Who, in the hopes of profit, sells it for
A three times greater price than he did pay
To me. I also hoped to make a profit,
Then in my turn I give the gathering
To our friend Tetzel, a Dominican,
Who does not hesitate to pay me well
For the monopoly and right exclusive
Given unto his order, who eke thought
To make a profit, but we calculated
Without this execrable Luther, who
Does dare to prove unto the peasant people
That we are rogues, and they are dupes, when we
Sell them indulgences, and that they buy
Indulgences that wont rebuy their sins.
TETZEL.
The banker Fugger for his bank, I for
My order, have keen interest in the question.
MILTITZ.
Say rather that it is a question set
With danger, reaching to the very heart
Of the interests of the Church. Indulgences
Are like the tithes, a source of revenue.
We act as one, I represent the Court
Of Rome.
CIPRIANO.
And I the Spanish Inquisition.
[They all make the sign of the Cross.
TETZEL.
The wrong lay in our tardiness, we ought,
At once, in the beginning to have cut
And rooted out this heretic. The feeble
Has now grown strong, disciples everywhere
He finds. Melancthon, Jerome, Schurf, and others,
Plague winds that bear afar his heresy.
FUGGER.
Our self-deception would be vain! He finds
Believers! He has gained already over
A large part of the peasants, working men,
And citizens.
MILTITZ.
Say Princes too, the Elector
Of Saxony
Is openly declared
His warder.
CIPRIANO.
This is what is gained by mercy,
Soft clemency and gentle patience; now
We measure strength with him, a cardinal
Gives him a meeting in a rustic inn!
TETZEL.
'Tis said he is more pliable at table,
And that he is a joyous drinker.
FUGGER.
I
Do think this upstart insolent to keep
Us waiting.
CIPRIANO.
Yes, a cardinal he keeps
Waiting, to preach to peasants.
MILTITZ.
These details
Are nought. I look to the end. This day will see
If soft persuasion will have strength to lead
This lost sheep back to us, or if we shall
Be driven to destroy him.
[The host introduces MARTIN LUTHER, who enters, Bible in hand.
MILTITZ.
Martin Luther,
His Holiness doth send me with my arms
Extended to thee.
MARTIN LUTHER.
My dear Cardinal,
I am like thee, a man of peace, as I
Desire and hope to prove to thee.
MILTITZ.
Dear Luther,
His Holiness did see, with much deep grief,
That all the learning of Prierias,
And the theology of Cardinal
Gaëtano could not turn thee back to us.
But still, His Holiness has not lost hope, —
He sends me to thee with much confidence.
MARTIN LUTHER.
Dear Cardinal, I thought thou didst intend
To come quite unattended, like myself,
To this our meeting. See! I have not brought
My friends, Melancthon, Armsdorf, Jerome, Schurf,
Nor Wolfgang; yet I see Fugger with thee,
And Tetzel, foes of mine, of certain need,
For nothing will they ever find in Luther
But an uncompromising adversary.
FUGGER.
If we have come, Friar Luther, be assured
'Tis not to take a part in the proposed
Meeting between thee and the Cardinal.
TETZEL.
We pass into another room, Friar Martin
Never let it be said that you attacked
The indulgences because Dominicans,
And not Augustines have the privilege
To sell; we leave you with the Cardinal.
[FUGGER and TETZEL go out by the right.
MARTIN LUTHER.
The two gone out I know, this last is quite
A stranger.
CIPRIANO.
Cipriano Soria,
An Archpriest of Toledo, Secretary
Of the tribunal of the Inquisition….
Friar Luther will do well to know me not!
[CIPRIANO SORIA goes out by the right.
MILTITZ.
Dear Luther, be not thou affected by
The wildly scattered words of an ardent zealot.
(To the Host.)
Bring glasses and two bottles of thy best
Johannisberg.
HOST.
I have some excellent,
Kept, aye, for these occasions.
[He puts two glasses and bottles on the table, and goes out by the back.
MILTITZ.
My dear Luther,
I am like thee, a son of Germany;
And, at this friendly meeting, I do hope
That thou wilt drink of this our country's wine
With me.
MARTIN LUTHER.
Dear Cardinal, I am a son
Of Germany. I leave to hypocrites
The affectation of austerity,
And I am with thee, glass in hand, as well
As bended in close comment o'er the gospels.
[LUTHER and MILTITZ sit at the table.
MILTITZ.
The gospels ever are thine arms, dear Luther,
With which thou art aye weaponed. Say a truce
To all such warfare for the present. I,
As thou, am German … for that very reason
His Holiness, for a last hope, did choose
Me for this mission. To thy health, dear Luther!
MARTIN LUTHER.
And to thy best good health, dear Cardinal!
MILTITZ.
Not as a theologian do I speak
With thee … But as a German, think how much
Our ancient Germany has been attached
Unto the Church of Rome; look at our first
Princes, Dukes, Counts, and Margraves; and remember
The good old names that are now parent stock
Of many Royal houses … Altembourg,
Zell, Wolfenbuttel, Brisgaw, Zollern, Gundgaw,
And Kawensbourg, Zaeringen, Altorf, Harburg,
And Sonabe: are not the chiefs of these
Illustrious houses, signalised for founding
Convents, and doth not every traveller see
On every hill-side of our provinces,
Fair Gothic abbeys, harbours of the poor?
Grandfils, and Hohenbourg and Ebermunster,
Mourlach and Erstern — many abbesses
Of these same abbeys bear the chiefest names
Of this fair land: and many have indeed
Been canonized under the holy titles
Of Saint Rictonde and Saint Eusebia,
Sainte Roswinde and Saint Odile. To thy
Good health, dear Luther.
MARTIN LUTHER.
For my answer, this
I give, that, doubtless, all these convents were
Founded with much aspiring earnestness
Of holy piety; but by degrees
Corruption, like a hidden worm, increased,
Unwinding, surely, some new coil each day,
Till all was filled with it. The depravation
Existing in the convents now has passed
Beyond the hazard of vague tales unto
The certainty of fact, not only here,
In Germany, but everywhere. ... The poet,
Petrarch, in the thirteenth century dared
To stigmatise the Papal court in hard
And bitter words, "as highest seat of sin,"
And Cardinal Allacio, one of thy
Colleagues, wrote this, I give the word exact:
"The Church has sunk so low in degradation
That she is worthy to be governed only
By the disgraced."
Thy health, dear Cardinal.
MILTITZ.
Thou art a learned man, well read in both
Profane and sacred literature; as great
A theologian as an orator.
MARTIN LUTHER.
Why flatter me, dear Cardinal!
MILTITZ.
I only
Echo the whole world's voice, dear Luther, thou
Alone art blind unto thy merit.
MARTIN LUTHER.
How so?
MILTITZ.
Hast thou ne'er thought that thou mightst rise among
The highest dignitaries of the Church?
MARTIN LUTHER.
Alack,
What is this way of talking, Monseigneur?
MILTITZ.
His Holiness ignores not that thou hast
Quitted thy convent, and art living now
Within thy mother house in Wittemberg;
But we do also know that if the mass
Thou dost not read, thou still dost preach within
Thy Church. I see that even now thou wearest
The Augustine habit … We may, therefore, hope
Thou hast not broken with us quite, and still
We may aspire to lead thee back again.
MARTIN LUTHER.
How may I understand thy speech, and by
What soothly ways dost thou propose to lead
Me back to youward, Monseigneur?
MILTITZ.
Thou seest
By me that German, as Italian,
May rise where I have risen.
MARTIN LUTHER.
Cardinal?
MILTITZ.
Yes, Cardinal!
MARTIN LUTHER.
Thou askest me to wear
Thy scarlet, robe of infamies and shames?
Its red would lend its colour to my face.
MILTITZ.
Think twice before thou throw'st aside so fair
An offer.
MARTIN LUTHER.
If I did accept thy bribe
Know'st thou what we would liken to?
MILTITZ.
To what?
MARTIN LUTHER.
Two augurs of an antique oracle …
Who could not catch the other's eyes without
Laughing.
MILTITZ.
Thou dost refuse in sober thought?
MARTIN LUTHER.
I make no idle jest.
[MILTITZ takes out two papers.
MILTITZ.
Here, Luther, choose …
Here is a brief that names thee Cardinal,
And here's a bull of excommunication.
MARTIN LUTHER.
I take the brief to cast unto the winds,
The bull to laugh at!
MILTITZ.
Luther, have a care!
Those bulls are called the thunders of the Church!
For long thou hast been heedless to the orders
Of our most Holy Father to appear
At Rome for judgment. Thou wilt shortly learn
The means that will be taken to oblige
Thy full surrender.
[MILTITZ goes out by the right.
MARTIN LUTHER.
God will give me help,
And, as with shield, His Word shall cover me!
THE SCENE CLOSES.
SCENE II.
A wood with arbour and rustic seat on the left.
Enter BARON CONRAD BERNSTORFF.
BERNSTORFF.
If I mistake not, there's my man—yes, yes,
'Tis he.
(Enter MARTIN LUTHER, Bible in hand.)
I am the Baron Conrad Bernstorff,
The captain of a troop of Lansquenets
In the employ of Saxony's Elector,
Your firm protector, who has given me
The charge of watching o'er your safety.
MARTIN LUTHER.
I
Do thank you heartily; there may be need
Of all your vigilance.
BERNSTORFF.
I did disperse
My soldiers round and through this wood to guard
The better your return to Wittemberg,
After your meeting with the cardinal.
[Going out.
Will you await me whilst I quick regather
My scattered men?
MARTIN LUTHER.
I ask not better than
To rest a while in this calm, dreamful place.
[Exit BERNSTORFF.
My life is fenced about with peril dark,
And danger: — these are troublous times and filled
With signs, and rumours, and dissensions — not
A span's length can I see before me. God,
I ask not of Thee health or joy or riches,
Or anything but life to see the end.
Enter, dressed as Nuns, CATHERINE BORA and ELSA VON KONNITZ.
CATHERINE.
O Elsa, see the wood-dove, how he shakes
His silver pinions in the golden light,
And then sits for a breathless interval
Silent, with hushed delight; and so my soul
Is filled with joy and flutters with desires,
And dreams undreamt till now. The air is moist,
Even in these latest morning hours, with mists
Still lingering. See how they rise above
The flowers, folding and unfolding their
Bright glittering wreaths into a thousand shapes
That curl, and curling fade away within
The soft sunshine. The sky is clear and blue,
The sun has risen strong — see how he points
His beams between the red and golden vines
And undergrowth of odorous plants. O! hark
Unto the singing of the unseen birds,
The air is filling with the scent of flowers:
I would lie here and dream away my life
In this sweet solitude. But thou, dear Elsa,
O why so silent and contemplative,
So wrapped within thyself? Dost thou not feel
As I, the rapture of our new found liberty?
ELSA.
It would be strange indeed, if after all
Those weary years, shut out from light or air
In cloistering convent walls, my soul did not
Rejoice before such glad sweet loveliness,
And yet methinks, dear Katharine, those years
Of cold monotony have somewhat chilled
And saddened me; my heart, although not dead
To all this wild exuberance of life,
Responds, if not less willingly than thine,
More slowly to its waking influence.
CATHERINE.
Thy memories will pass away: I also
Was crushed and broken out of very life,
Even as a worm beneath the treading heel;
But now my soul rejoices — we are free
As yonder flying birds, for the Elector
Has ope'd all convent doors in Saxony.
Look glad, dear Elsa, thou hast happy days
Before thee yet. Is not thine uncle waiting
For thee at Wittemberg? There we will find
A pleasant home.
ELSA.
O Catherine! promise me
That thou wilt never leave me, come what may ….
O I do love thee, though I find no words
To tell the sweet and tender confidence
That draws unwittingly my soul to thee
For love and comfort, even as the dove
Is guided to her nest; do I not owe
Thee everything — even my very life?
Was it not thou who snatchedst me out of Death
When his hard fangs were closing — ah! a death
Too terrible! a death of slow starvation!
CATHERINE.
Dear Elsa, think it was a dream — a dead,
A vanished dream.
ELSA.
Dear Catherine, I will
Strive hard against these memories,
And look within the future for the joy
That later days may bring; already I
Am happier, my heart is lighter — it
Respires the breath of peace — my soul is opening
Its weak leaves like a spring flower timidly.
The silence of this place is sweet — see how
The shifting giddy sunlight plays along
The glad glade grass, the greenery is full
Of choral minstrelsy.
(Looking around.)
Look, Catherine,
There is a good monk praying in an arbour,
A little to this side — 'tis the occasion
That thou wert just desiring. I will steal
Away, and wait for thee close by.
CATHERINE.
Stray not
Too far.
[ELSA walks aside, and CATHERINE approaches MARTIN LUTHER.
Father 'tis a penitent
Who would confess her sins.
[She kneels down and prays.
MARTIN LUTHER.
My faith leans not
To the confessional, I would refuse,
And yet 'tis difficult.
(Looking at her.)
Doth Satan send
This pure ethereal loveliness to tempt
The foolish flesh, and turn my soul from God?
CATHERINE.
O Father, list, O list unto my sin!
Turn not away with horror, tho' it be
Revolting in your sight, but list, for I
Am weary with it — ah! its burden lies
Upon my soul, and crushes with its weight
The wings that fain would rise. There is a name
That came like wind from out the sea, like lightning
From out the ends of Darkness, like a thunder
From out the ends of Silence, penetrating
With light and sound the limits of the world.
I was a nun, hidden in the dark
Of convent walls, whose calm and silent deeps
Lie lower than the tides and chafing winds
Of life, and yet that man's voice reached to there,
And blew up waves amongst them. Then, at last
My heart did open pale weak leaves and blossoms,
And turned to himward like a flower turns
Unto the light and as the flower breathes
Of instinct love its perfume to the day,
So my heart gave without sign manual
Of love, in simple confidence beyond
The touch of thought, its soul away.
MARTIN LUTHIER
(aside).
My brain
Is filled with thoughts that harass, for I guess
The meaning that is hidden in her words.
CATHERINE.
But say, did I not owe to him all things,
Deliverance? Did I not owe to him
The right to breathe the breath of Liberty,
To live my life alive?
MARTIN LUTHER
(aside).
I fear, for her
Confession points at each succeeding word
Clearer to me.
CATHERINE.
Oh, father, tell me what
I might have done and did not do, to crush
The sin that fed with sharp close sucking lips
Around my heart — nay, tell me, father, was
It sin to love, as I did, for my love
Had neither hand nor lips, nor eyes; it was
Only before a vision of the night,
A dream of beauty fair without a form,
That my soul loved! But, O my father, you
Can never understand, for my mouth has
No speech to tell my fell temptation, nor
You did not see my soul, you do not know
How I was tried, God measured not my trial
With my poor strength! The holy reverence
I felt at first for this man's sacred name,
The pure and pious adoration, changed
Into a strange mysterious sympathy.
MARTIN LUTHER
(aside).
I cannot listen longer, I am filled
With fear. Oh God! loose Satan's hands ere he
Doth drag me down!
CATHERINE.
A thought did hide itself
In all my dreams, in all my thoughts; I fled
A way from it, I shut myself in fastnesses
Of penance and I found it lurking there
In secret ways and turns of dreams until
At last it grew around me and became
A part of me. O! father, listen well —
O! father, I will shrive my sin to you —
I love with my whole being Martin Luther …
MARTIN LUTHER.
Silence! O not another look or word!
Away, away from me, and night and day
Let all thy prayers go up to God as one
That we may never meet again.
[Exit.
CATHERINE
(starting up).
I know
Not what, but a misgiving frightens me.
Who was that monk?
ELSA
(running in).
Oh! Catherine, fly: we are
Pursued by soldiers.
Enter a troop of Lansquenets.
FIRST LANSQUENET
(seizing hold of ELSA.)
Caught at last, my fair.
Ho! ho! and here's another, comrades: we
Are in fine luck to-day.
SECOND LANSQUENET.
This one for me;
Black eyes are brighter, aye, than blue.
THIRD LANSQUENET.
We will
Draw lots.
SEVERAL LANSQUENETS.
Yes, lots; we will draw lots.
Enter BARON BERNSTORFF.
BERNSTORFF.
Stand back,
Ye ruffians, or perfay my sword shall bleed
You of some lecherous blood.
[The soldiers fall back.
(To CATHERINE and ELSA).
I ask your pardon,
Fair ladies, for the fear these soldiers, fellows,
Have given: so, as sure security,
From further violence, I offer you
Myself as escort. Whither lies your way?
ELSA.
To Wittemberg.
BERNSTORFF.
Ah! There I am intrusted
To safely see friar Martin Luther. He
Was to await me here; I see him not.
CATHERINE
(aside).
What! Martin Luther! Then it was to him
That I confessed unknowingly my love.
BERNSTORFF.
What, gone? Without awaiting me! Yet, ladies,
I still am at your service.
CATHERINE.
Come, Elsa,
Come, let us go, my strength is well enough.
THE SCENE CLOSES.
SCENE III.
A Room in the house of MARTIN LUTHER at Wittemberg, a door on each side, a balcony at the back.
DIETRICH shows in BARON BERNSTORFF.
DIETRICH.
After his interview with Cardinal
Miltitz, he promised to return at once.
He cannot be delayed. Then will you here
Await a moment. Now his mother tends
With one, the other of the nuns. She fainted,
Crossing the doorway, hearing that the house
Was Martin Luther's.
[Exit.
BERNSTORFF.
By my faith, I know
Not what to do. The uncle of the younger
With whom they hoped to find a refuge, is
No more at Wittemberg. A Heaven-sent thought,
It seemed, indeed to bring these frightened doves,
Homeless and shelterless, to Luther's house,
Ever a harbour to the poor. His mother
Received them with wide open arms, but lo!
One faints as her feet cross the threshold! What
A mystery is woman! Both are fair.
The younger of the two is pure and sweet,
As a pale white rose blossom. I was drawn
From very first to her, Elsa von Konnitz.
I learned her name, I know not how! Did she
Tell it to me? Poor child, upon her brow
Is writ the tale of many sufferings.
The door is opening. Ah! 'tis she.
ELSA.
I come
From Catherine to tell you many things
That she would fain be speaker of herself,
But she is ill and very weak, so she
Said, "Be my embassage, and give our thanks,
Our many thanks to Baron Conrad Bernstorff,
Explaining how we fear that our remaining
Might cause some troubles unto Martin Luther."
For we do think that it might give a voice
To scandal, our mere presence, for is not
The very air that Luther breathes replete
With calumny?
BERNSTORFF.
And will you go as well?
ELSA.
If every hope did flower and fill with fruit,
I would not wait the certain harvesting,
If Catherine, my sister, wished to go.
My sister, is she not? Is not our friendship
A perfect sisterhood?
BERNSTORFF.
Where will you go?
ELSA.
I know not where, but Catherine has declared
That she would sooner seek another convent
Than rest beneath this roof.
BERNSTORFF.
'Tis strange, indeed …
Then Catherine doth bear but little love
To Martin Luther.
ELSA.
No, not so, in truth,
His words do fill her thoughts. She speaks of him
Often and always, with much reverence.
BERNSTORFF.
It is most strange: To seek the reason out
I care not.
ELSA.
How so, Baron Bernstorff?
BERNSTORFF.
I
Am charged by the Elector of Saxony
To watch with vigilance o'er Martin Luther.
ELSA.
And then?
BERNSTORFF.
If you do quit his house I shall
Not see you any more.
ELSA.
Will you regret?
BERNSTORFF.
Regret, perfay! I shall regret, but more
For one than for the other, and I speak
Not of your friend.
ELSA.
Of me?
BERNSTORFF.
Yes, yes, of you
Sweet Elsa, there is one thing that I hoped
To tell you later, but your going forces
The telling on my lips.
ELSA.
What would you say?
BERNSTORFF.
Plain, simple speech: I am no silk-dressed youth,
Soft-skinned and tender as a girl, with roses
In his pale cheeks, and set court words between
His lips, but a strong-bearded soldier, who
Has ridden oft between the ranks of war,
Amid the snapping spears and slipping swords,
And seen death in the face. A little scared,
Perhaps, but whole of limb. I have a sword,
A long illustrious line of ancestors,
And Wartburg Castle for inheritance.
I might unite my name to an equal one,
But I have ever lived a loud, wild life
In camps and garrisons, where love is felt,
Not reasoned. I have never seen a face
So fair, such goodly, gentle brows, as yours,
Sweet Elsa. Never did I think before
To offer this firm, knightly hand that you
Will find beneath this iron glove.
ELSA.
You must
Have seen but passingly the woman's face
Beneath the nun's deep veil, to speak so to me.
BERNSTORFF.
My heart is filled with it.
ELSA.
Look, look again,
And see these pale eyes, pale with tears, and this
White grief-worn face, it is too sad for love.
Ah! If my heart from its cold ashes could
Arise! But listen to my dolorous story:
"High influence did shut me deep within
A convent, for a noble sought, against
The will of his stern feudal family,
To wed me, though I am but humbly born;
He sought then my deliverance, and I
Was willed to follow, but the chosen night
Was dark and wild, and foothold there was none
Upon the walls. He perished miserably,
And, in a lifeless swoon, they found me by
The dead. I was adjudged to be interred
Alive. They placed me on a bier, and threw
A shroud upon me, reading burial rites.
Then I was carried down below the ground,
Where the deep night was almost palpable,
Unto a vault, whose entrance was a stone
Trap, set above a very narrow flight
Of steps, that led unto a silent darkness.
They thrust me down, first placing in my shroud
A loaf of bread to lengthen out my dying.
And there I lay, soul-bound in leaden thought,
Within the passion-baffling dark, that crushed
Me into aching silence. Then, again,
My soul would raise herself in fiery frenzy
Of flaming fears, that burnt and seethed along
The brain, and I did beat my bleeding hands,
In vain endeavour, against the heedless walls …
I hear the chill, cold words condemning me,
I feel the darkness of the dungeon still,
The slimy walls and floor, where strange things crawl
The utter emptiness. Against all law,
The tears and prayers of sister Catherine
Did move the stern old abbess unto mercy: —
Perhaps she thought to find me dead! They came,
After two days. Oh, speak not of them! One
I hardly knew, and disentombed me, half
Deprived of sense, with eyes that stared aghast
Thro' films of blood, and wandering tangled strings
Of hair, that my pale, trembling hands did twist
Half listlessly." Now that you know my sad,
Sad tale of suffering, can you say again:
"I love you?"
BERNSTORFF.
I did only know before
Your beauty. Since I learn your awful past,
I love you with a ten times greater love.
[Enter CATHERINE and Dame LUTHER.
CATHERINE.
Again I thank you, with much gratitude,
For all your proffered hospitality,
Which we, alas! cannot accept.
DAME LUTHER.
Oh! think
Of all the perils that beset your ways.
CATHERINE.
We have a sum that was remitted us,
When we did leave the convent, for provision,
By the Superior. Farewell, Farewell,
We go. Oh! Elsa, let us go. Farewell!
BERNSTORFF.
Love lies within the calm and tender light
Of dreams, ere struggling hard to gaze upon
The day — that gives not life but death.
[Enter MARTIN LUTHER.
MARTIN LUTHER.
'Tis war,
Yes, war, whose fangs will tear the foeman's heart
From out the dead. The reddest of all wars,
The war of ideas. This very instant, now
This moment, Cipriano Soria
Doth burn my books before the public gates
Of Wittemberg.
DAME LUTHER.
Oh! Martin, tho' I fear,
Thro' trouble-shaken nights and days for thee,
Is it not recompense enough and joy
To be the mother of Martin Luther?
MARTIN LUTHER.
Oh!
My mother, let us take, with thankfulness,
What God doth send.
DAME LUTHER.
Forget a moment, Martin,
Thy wrongs, thy aspirations, and thy hopes,
And homeward turn thy thoughts. Here are two nuns
Brought hither by the Baron Bernstorff. They
Are shelterless, and yet refuse to rest
A while beneath our roof, for fear their presence
Would overcharge our frugal board. They were
For going, when thine entrance stayed them. Nay,
Come, come, unite thy words with mine, and ask
Them to accept our hospitality.
MARTIN LUTHER.
Two nuns!
(aside)
I surely think I recognise
One of the two.
CATHERINE.
His looks are fast on me.
MARTIN LUTHER.
Great Heavens! She is the penitent who asked
Confession of me in the wood.
[Enter DIETRICH with a letter.
DIETRICH.
A letter
Brought by a messenger, who came and went
In very speedy haste.
[LUTHER opens the letter.
MARTIN LUTHER.
Ah! What is this,
An order from His Imperial Majesty
To come before the Diet of Worms!
DAME LUTHER.
Great Heaven!
The son of Luther, miner in the mines
Of Eisleben, by the command arraigned
Of Charles the Fifth.
MARTIN LUTHER.
Assure yourself, dear mother,
For joined with this Imperial assignation
Is a safe-conduct, signed by Charles the Fifth.
DAME LUTHER.
And thou wilt go?
MARTIN LUTHER.
Yes, I will, my mother,
As I did go to Augsburg, when there called
For the same cause. Yes, I will go to Worms,
Even if I find as many devils there
As roofs!
[A tumult is heard outside. They sing in chorus.
Our God, a right fast tower is He,
A sword and shield unshaken:
From every need he helps us free,
That hath us overtaken.
The old and evil foe
Has come to work our woe —
Much craft and greatest might
His mail are for the fight:
On earth is not his fellow.
[BERNSTORFF goes to the window.
BERNSTORFF.
The students, citizens, and working men
Assembled! Ah! they light a fire before
Your doorway, Luther. List, listen, they sing
Your own hymn of the Reformation.
Of our strength we nothing can,
We lose tho' we have striven:
But for us fights the proper Man,
Whom God Himself hath given.
Ask ye who can this be?
Our Saviour Christ is He,
The Lord Sabaoth's Son;
God other there is none:
He shall maintain the battle.
MARTIN LUTHER.
But
For what the fire?
BERNSTORFF.
I know not. Ah! they burn —
They cast into the flames your enemies' books:
The Bibles of Prierias and Emser.
MARTIN LUTHER.
Then, then, to me, to burn the papal bull
Of excommunication!
[He goes to the window, cheers, and throws it out, and, approaching CATHERINE BORA, he whispers to her
You can now stay,
And have no shame, for I depart at once.
God's Word they needs must let remain,
And have therein no merit;
He stands by us upon the plain,
With all His power and spirit.
And tho' they take our life,
Goods, honour, child, and wife,
Let them do as they will
They get no profit: still
The Kingdom ours for ever.
[The fire throws up a vivid light against the windows.
END OF THE SECOND ACT.
Source: Curated by George Moore Interactive LLC (georgemooreinteractive.org) — Shared for research, educational, and personal use.