THE
TEMPTER
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HENRY ARTHUR
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1898

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THE TEMPTER
80630
A TRAGEDY IN VERSE IN FOUR ACTS
BY
HENRY ARTHUR JONES
AUTHOR of
MICHAEL AND HIS LOST ANGEL, 'THE LIARS,' 'THE CRUSADERS,'
MASQUERADERS, 'JUDAH,' 'THE CASE OF REBELLIOUS Susan,'
'THE DANCING GIRL,' 'The middleman, 'THE ROGUE'S
COMEDY,' 'THE PHYSICIAN,'
> C
>
THE TRIUMPH OF
THE PHILISTINES,' 'THE GOAL,' 'SAINTS
AND SINNERS,' 'THE MANŒUVRES
OF JANE,' ETC.
London
MACMILLAN AND CO., LIMITED
NEW YORK: THE MACMILLAN COMPANY
1898
All rights reserved
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PREFACE
The Tempter was produced by Mr. Beerbohm Tree
at the Haymarket Theatre on the 20th September
1893. He placed it on the stage with the greatest
liberality and good taste, and worked with the utmost
zeal and enthusiasm to make it a success. It ran for
73 nights, and was taken off to a house of £195:3:6.
The nightly expenses were so great that it could not
be continued except at the highest receipts. And
though for some weeks money was turned away nightly,
yet there is no doubt that the declining receipts
showed that the piece was practically played out when
it was taken off. And taking into account the great
cost of production, it must be acknowledged a com-
parative failure. I say "comparative," for I would
wager that the figures will bear comparison with those
of a Shakespearian production current at the time
which went for an established success. There were
many things that fought against the commercial success
"
vi
THE TEMPTER
of The Tempter. At a great cost the ship of the First
Act was put bodily upon the stage-a mistake which
arose from the splendid effect obtained by a working
model of the scene. When, however, the ship came
to be put on the actual stage it would neither work,
nor sail, nor sink, and in place of thrilling the spectator
with terror, it merely gave him a sensation of sea-
sickness. On the first night, owing to the failure of
the machinery and the length of time necessary to
change the scene, the ship was seven minutes sinking;
meantime all the supers were seven minutes dying, a
quaint and amusing spectacle. The whole business
of the ship only served to show the futility of realism
carried beyond the point at which it is subservient to
other ends. A plain front scene, a make-believe of a
ship, and a few tattered sails, with men in front who
could act the terror of drowning men, would have
been impressive and convincing. The real ship, with
its flat denial of any danger except sea-sickness, made
all attempts at acting ridiculous. These and some
other misfortunes doubtless worked against the success
of the play. If I say a word about the acting, it should
rather be to thank those who worked very loyally for
the success of my play, than to point to the disheart-
ening fact that we are gradually losing the art of
rendering the poetic drama on the English stage. I
PREFACE
vii
will not say that The Tempter was played in all respects
as I could wish, but I will own that this was not in my
opinion the main cause of its comparative failure. With
the laurels gained from his splendid triumph in a far
greater and nobler attempt, Mr. Tree may well forget
his disappointment over The Tempter. And with my
best thanks to him for his most generous production,
I will willingly take upon myself whatever blame may
attach to the production of The Tempter.
Though some of the notices gave the play consider-
able praise, they read to me rather as good-natured
apologies for an ill-starred attempt than as the
spontaneous convictions of a delighted judgment.
The majority of the criticisms were either adverse or
contemptuous. And I have since read and heard
many expressions of severe condemnation, none of
them, however, quite so severe as the adverse opinions.
of the play of Lear which were covertly mooted on
the first night of its Lyceum production. But doubt-
less the immeasurable distance that separates the two
plays may be accountable for the difference in the
severity of their handling by the two most cultivated
first-night audiences that assemble in an English
playhouse.
The Tempter was especially offensive to a stout
elderly lady, to Mr. William Archer, and to some of
b
viii
THE TEMPTER
7
our minor poets. I chanced to be at the theatre one
evening during its run, and I met a stout elderly lady
on the point of leaving before the conclusion of the
Third Act. Panting and flurried and disordered, she
laboured up from the Haymarket stalls, and at the top
she turned and exclaimed to her companion, "I call
it perfectly outrageous." With my own ears I heard
her. With my own eyes I saw her waddle, purple and
indignant, to her carriage. And I had given a year
and a half to write The Tempter.
And this was the
result! God forgive me!
I leave the stout elderly lady and come to Mr.
William Archer.
Mr. William Archer has rendered some service
to the English drama. As a critic he is deserving of
very great respect, for though it must be sorrowfully
conceded that his instincts in dramatic matters are
always wrong, it can honestly be claimed for him that
his judgments are sometimes right. And even when
he makes mistakes he never does it negligently or
thoughtlessly. Like Foresight in Congreve's comedy,
he always sets about it with the greatest diligence and
care. I know of no critic who can be safely trusted to
arrive at a wrong judgment with so much precision
and honest, painstaking effort as Mr. William Archer.
And this faculty of industrious misapprehension,
PREFACE
ix
besides being the infallible sign of your born critic
(witness a hundred illustrious examples), is surely an
admirable moral quality in any man.
Mr. William Archer has laboured long and gallantly
in the cause of the lobworm-symbolic drama. It
would scarcely be giving him too high a place if I
were to name him the father of the lobworm-symbolic
drama in England. For though, so far as I am aware,
he is not responsible for the actual paternity of any
of that long series of lobworm-symbolic masterpieces
which have consistently failed on our English stage
during the last eight or ten years, yet I will not admit
that this is a defect of his will or intention. And he
has played the kindly man-midwife to so many of
them that I hope he will be allowed without dispute
and without envy to take the position that I have
ventured to claim for him. And upon the day when
the temple of our national English drama finally rears
its lofty proportions and is seen to be no less than
the very lobby and ante-room to a Scandinavian
back-parlour, Mr. William Archer will be hailed as a
person of vast prescience and demn'd uncommon nice
discrimination, stap my vitals!
From all of this it will be gathered with what diffi-
dence and apprehension I hint a doubt of the soundness
of any of Mr. William Archer's criticisms. Mr. Archer,
X
THE TEMPTER
like the stout lady, was moved to a perhaps un-
necessary display of chaste indignation because I had
placed in the mouth of the devil certain words and
expressions which are not usually heard in drawing-
rooms. I had done this with no intention of shocking
British matronhood or Mr. William Archer, but solely
in an endeavour to render the exact truth of the
character and the scene. They are all of them good
Bible and Shakespearian words, and I retain them
in the assurance that they will offend none but the
virtuous.
I would not be guilty of the brutality of reminding
Mr. Archer that he began his critical career with an
attempted demolition of Othello if, since that un-
happy assay, he had not constantly shown his in-
stinctive capacity to misunderstand our national poetic
drama. Witness his nibbling and quibbling at The
Duchess of Malfi, with no word of admiration for
the most beautiful womanly character, outside Shake-
speare, in the whole English drama. And again,
what can we say of the critical faculty that, doubtless
misled by a phrase of Coleridge, finds nothing subtle
or complex in Lear, and asks contemptuously of it,
"Who looks for rational psychology in a nursery-tale?"
Such a pronouncement leaves us breathless. We do
not recover till we bring to mind the plays and the
PREFACE
xi
characters that Mr. Archer has found to be subtle and
complex, and the psychology that he does suppose to
be profound. Then we get our critical bearings again,
and recall the story of the Yorkshireman who had
been taken to see the glories and wonders of London.
"Eh, lad,” he exclaimed on returning to his native
village, "there's nowt to come up to Pudsey, after
all!"
We think it strange if an actor steps outside his
evident métier; if, for instance, Irving were to elect to
play the clown in the pantomine, or if George Gros-
smith were to suddenly announce himself in Hamlet.
Yet is it not equally strange that Mr. Archer, who is
an excellent critic in his own lobworm-symbolic
Pudsey, should step outside that congenial domain
and meddle with plays that pretend to passion and
poetry? I speak with a care for his reputation.
Though, indeed, it may be thought I have another
motive in counselling him. Any one who has followed
the career of Mr. Archer's especial protégés must have
noticed that they all come to certain failure and mis-
fortune, as surely as Sangrado's patients all died of
the fever. And a dramatist who wishes for a modest
amount of success with his public may well be
alarmed lest in some unlucky moment Mr. Archer
may lay hands on him and discover his plays to be
xii
THE TEMPTER
masterpieces. And if this be thought to be impossible
in my own case, I can only again refer to the astonish-
ing list of plays which he has discovered to be master-
pieces. I declare that not one of us is safe from him.
And any playwright who is placed in this precarious
position may well consider how he may discourage
Mr. Archer, and so escape the disaster of his praise.
But indeed I have no such selfish motive, and my
only thought is to take Mr. Archer out of the mean
little by-ways where he has groped so long, and to
set him with his face forward on the main highway of
the drama's advancement. He has a real love for
the drama, a genuine concern for what he conceives
to be its interests, and I am sure that in his silent and
better moments he will own to himself how right and
how necessary are these gentle admonitions of mine.
To expect him to act upon them would be to ask too
much from human nature. Monsieur," said Gil
Blas to Sangrado, "all our patients go straight to the
other world. Don't you think we might change our
treatment? At the worst, they can only die, the
same as they do now."
"My son," said Sangrado, "I would willingly do as
you say and try some other remedies, but the fact is,
I've written a book to prove that my treatment is right.
You surely would not wish me to go back on that?"
PREFACE
xiii
"You are right," said Gil Blas, "it will never
do to give a triumph to your enemies. Perish the
people, the noblesse, and the clergy, rather than you
should lose a shred of your reputation. Allons donc
toujours notre train."
I leave Mr. William Archer and come to the minor
poets. And here will be a fitting place to acknow-
ledge the immense debt which our renascent English
drama owes to modern English men of letters and
poets. There is scarcely an English poet or man of
letters of the present and passing generation who has
not generously given much valuable leisure to teach
English playwrights how not to write a play. I have
never seen any public acknowledgment of this debt
on the part of the drama, and I am glad that it falls
to me to assure all these eminent literary gentlemen
and poets that their labours have not been in vain-
at least so far as one playwright is concerned.
do not go into details and particular instances, it
is because a sympathetic insight at once perceives
that, in spite of a vast diversity of style and theme
and treatment, the so-called literary plays of the last
forty years are really animated by one sovereign aim
and impulse-to show English playwrights what to
avoid. And I claim on behalf of the Victorian liter-
ary drama that it has splendidly accomplished this
If I
xiv
THE TEMPTER
✓
purpose. Not one of the plays so amiably designed
has failed to hit its mark. Not one of them has failed
to show not merely that the drama is different in
its degree of pressure and intensity from other forms
of literature, but that it is also different in kind, and
is a special instinctive natural gift. A man may have
a pretty literary style, may have scholarship, wit,
humour, invention, charm-all these will avail him
nothing when he has neither to toy with his own
moods and feelings nor to describe and portray the
outer world; but when he has to be, to impersonate,
to speak, not with his own voice or manner or opinions,
but when he has to drop them all, to strip himself
bare of every distinctive literary grace, to abdicate
his own personality, and to take upon himself the
voice, manner, accent, knowledge, culture, habits,
nay, to creep into the very nature and soul, of another
person. Now no dramatic student could wish for
better or more varied illustrations of how not to
attain to this most difficult art than have been afforded
to him in the plays of the modern men of letters
and poets of England. And with all these favours
continuously showered upon us, I feel I am display-
ing a spirit of monstrous greed and ingratitude when
I hint to English literary men that, having given
modern playwrights so many examples of what to
PREFACE
XV
avoid, the time is now ripe to give us an example of
what to follow. Our leading men of letters have
already rendered the signal service to the drama
which I have acknowledged above in what I hope
will be considered suitable and handsome terms. It
would perhaps be unkind to make any further call
upon their generosity. In these straits we may per-
haps turn to our minor poets.
It would ill become me to criticise my betters, the
minor poets of England. I will content myself with
a safe generalisation, and say that perhaps some of
them might be more usefully employed. And in the
present uncertain relations of the English drama to
English literature it might be a distinct advantage
to both if we could detach the services of a few minor
poets from the cause of literature and employ them
upon the drama.
I will not be so exacting as to ask any of them to
write a play upon the theme of The Tempter. It is
rather late in the day to make such an attempt, and
it would merely bring them into hazardous comparison
with Milton and Goethe. And, moreover, to write a
play that would meet with the moderate success of
The Tempter, and fill a West End theatre for seventy-
three nights, demands a knowledge of stagecraft that
would take many years to gain.
xvi
THE TEMPTER
I will not even ask them to draw the character of
the devil at full length, for that again would be a task
of immense difficulty, seeing that it is not a definite,
consistent human character, but a vague, terrible,
inconsistent image, the shadow of the terrors and sins
of our race. And in drawing such a character they
would be sure to mislead worthy critics like Mr.
Archer, and would be liable to all sorts of misrepre-
sentations from those who do not know under what
strict rules and conventions such a character must
necessarily be drawn.
But perhaps I may, in all the humility that becomes
me, ask some of our minor poets, out of their great
bounty and courtesy, to show me the way to write one
of the seven or eight long speeches of the devil that
are scattered through the following play. Any one of
them will serve. The conditions are that it must be
dramatic and impersonative, not descriptive; and
that it must be written in such language as can be
immediately seized and understood by the most stupid
boy in the gallery, who will else begin to hiss, and so
convince all the critics that a bad play has been
written.
I hope I am not presuming too much in asking
this favour from our minor poets, who will doubtless
be glad to render a great service to the drama at a
PREFACE
xvii
very slight cost (so I gather from the tone of their
criticisms), and at the same time to show the easy and
triumphant superiority of their own art.
It will be noticed that I have not replied to
the various criticisms of The Tempter, neither to
the stout lady, nor to Mr. William Archer, nor to
the minor poets. For many years I have been in
great peace about the future of my soul. I am in
equal peace about the quite minor question of my
future place in the English drama.
HENRY ARTHUR JONES.

Produced by Mr. Tree at the Haymarket Theatre
on 20th September 1893.
CHARACTERS
THE DEVIL.
PRINCE LEON OF AUvergne.
EARL OF Rougemont.
SIR GILBERT MORBEC.
SIR GAULTIER DE FLOrac.
FATHER URBAN, Prior of St. Werburg's Abbey.
DROGO POUND, Steward to the Earl of Rougemont.
Host.
Cellarer.
Master of the Vessel.
Boatswain.
Ist Sailor.
A Singing Pilgrim.
A Child.
THE LADY ISOBEL OF CARMAYNe.
THE LADY AVIS OF ROUGEMONT.
LETTICE, waiting-maid to Lady Isobel.
SARAH POUND.
Pilgrims, Sailors, Beggars, Gentlemen, Monks, Serving-men,
Sutlers, Grooms, Waiting-women, Soldiers, Attendants, etc.
The scene is laid in England in the fourteenth century.
ACT I
SCENE I.-ON BOARD PRINCE LEON'S VESSEL IN THE
ENGLISH CHANNEL.
SCENE II.-IN THE COURTYARD OF THE FLEUR-DE-LYS
INN ON THE CANTERBUry Road.
(A fortnight passes.)
ACT II
SCENE-THE GUEST HOUSE OF SAINT WERBUrg's
·
ABBEY, NEAR CANTERBURY.
(A night passes.)
ACT III
SCENE-A GLADE OUTSIDE THE ABBEY WALLS.
ACT IV
SCENE THE OUTSIDE OF CANTERBURY CATHEDRAL
AT NIGHT.
PROLOGUE
LEAVE for awhile the fret of modern life,
Democracy's cheap aims and sick unrest;
Leave social maladies to be redressed
In Nature's surgery, by her wise knife.
Shun the crude present with vain problems rife,
Nor join the bleak Norwegian's barren quest
For deathless beauty's self and holy zest
Of rapturous martyrdom in some base strife
Of petty dullards, soused in native filth.
Shut out the reek of this stockjobbing age,
Its wan-faced city herds; its wealth, its illth,
The muddy ferment of its greed, and rage
Of blind, deaf, mad industrial war. Close ears.
Close eyes.
Waken in long-past lovely years.
Waken in Chaucer's England, 'mid the ring
Of bells, 'mid rainbow throngs, and rich gay sights.
Lo! here a band of pilgrims, dames and knights,
Beset with evil's strong encompassing
In days when men had souls to save. What Thing
Is this that dogs these wayfarers, affrights,
Mocks, lures and frustrates, startles and delights,
And wins them to a wild abandoning
Of heaven, of all? Such Power dogs us to-day :
The past I show is but our present life,
And we are pilgrims, shadowed on our way,
Waging the old inexplicable strife
With darkness, taint of blood, necessity,
Fate, chance, or-what? Raise curtain. Let us see.
1
Night.
ACT I
SCENE I
ON BOARD PRINCE LEON'S SHIP OFF THE
SOUTH FORELAND
A storm raging; very dark, thunder and
lightning; sailors in the rigging lowering the sails;
the sails are torn; sailors hurrying to and fro; a
steersman at the rudder; the master of the ship
directing with master's whistle; shouting, hurrying,
alarm.
MASTER (shouting). Lower her sails! Ho there!
Be nimble. (To the Steersman.) Keep her head
out to sea!
Enter from below SIR GAULTIER DE FLORAC, a young
knight attendant on PRINCE LEON.
SIR GAUL. How now, master?
MASTER. Keep below, Sir Gaultier.
SIR GAUL. The Prince would know where we are.
M
B
#
2
ACT I
THE TEMPTER
1
MASTER.
blackness.
SIR GAUL.
MASTER.
SIR GAUL.
his life?
MASTER.
'Tis more than I can tell in this pitchy
Is the Prince in peril ?
He's as near Heaven as the rest of us.
Is it so? What wilt thou do to save
The same that I shall do to save my
own. Keep below, Sir Gaultier. Bid the Prince
and all your company keep below.
SIR GAUL. Nay, we'll not stay there to be
drowned like rats. Thou knowest what the Prince's
life is worth, and how all the hopes of France and
England hang upon this voyage! What can I do to
rescue him?
MASTER.
with him.
SIR GAUL.
Take him on thy back and swim ashore
Dost thou jeer at me ?
MASTER. Nay, nay, Sir Gaultier, but stand out
of my way. The ship's driving ashore. If we 'scape
and live, we live; if we perish, we perish. Below!
Below and pray; 'tis all that thou canst do. We're
in God's hands!
SIR GAUL. Nay, in the devil's hands, I think.
'Tis the devil that sends such weather as this.
PRINCE.
Enter the PRINCE from below.
Gaultier, where art thou?
SIR GAUL.
Here, my
Prince.

SCENE I
3
THE TEMPTER
How now?
PRINCE.
Are we in jeopardy?
We walk a plank
SIR GAUL.
'Twixt heaven and hell!
Look at this boiling pit!
(A terrific thunderclap.)
Mercy! Are Satan's legions all broke loose?
Enter a Sailor from below.
SAILOR. She's sprung a leak! Below! All hands
below!
(Exeunt all except the PRINCE and SIR
GAULTIER.)
PRINCE. Gaultier, if so it chance, that these mad
seas
Drown me and let thee live
SIR GAUL.
If thou art drowned,
Be sure that I'll not live to tell the tale.
I'll perish too!
PRINCE.
Nay, as thou art my friend,
Escape if so thou may. Do this for me;
Thou wilt?
SIR GAUL. I promise thee.
PRINCE.
If I go down,
Bear thou this message to the Lady Avis;
Tell her that though my eyes have never looked
On her dear face since those remembered days
When she, the daintiest maid of seven, and I,
A boy of twelve, were, by our parents' will,

4
ACT I
THE TEMPTER
And our pleased, wondering, childish love, betrothed
And promised to each other, though since then
Our countries' wars have parted us, yet ever
My tenderest heartstrings have been tied to hers;
And lately, when the King of England offered,
As sign and pledge of his goodwill to France,
That our betrothal should be ratified,
And I should marry her, his god-daughter,
And bind our countries in a lasting peace,
Tell her that when her picture came to show
How sweet and fair my playmate wife had grown,
My childhood's love came rushing back, and I
Took my most solemn vow to be her knight,
Her stainless knight, pure, consecrate to her
Alone. And as God hears my words, maybe
My dying words, I've kept my vow. Here, here,
In my heart's secret shrine, her image dwells,
Maiden, inviolate!
(Thunder, lightning. Shrieks and howls, and
cries of despair from below.)
Enter a Soldier from below in fright.
SOLDIER.
My liege! My liege!
Please you to come below! The men grow wild
And riotous.
They are beside themselves.
(The PRINCE goes to hold, shouting.)
PRINCE. Ye cowards! Cease this brawl! Come,
cease, I say!
(Exit, followed by Attendant.)
SCENE I
5
THE TEMPTER
1
SIR GAUL. (calls to Steersman). Steersman!
STEERS. Ay, ay!
SIR GAUL. Does she answer to her rudder?
STEERS. I scarce know in all this uproar. Please
God, I'll keep her off the land.
(Exit SIR GAULTIER below. A huge wave.
The vessel reels, the Steersman is swept
off. A flash of lightning reveals the
DEVIL in the Steersman's place.)
DEVIL (alone, steering).
dash her on the rocks!
Please God or not, I'll
(Looking after Steersman, shouting after him.)
Thou wilt please God? About it then, thou fool!
(Stretches forth his arm; a flash of lightning.)
My swift, pale harbinger, skip through the heavens !
Dart, blast and havoc! Daunt these seamen's hearts!
Palsy their sinews! Dry their bloods with fright!
(Stretches forth his arm; another flash.)
Nearer! Awake, old thunder! Roll! Split! Crash!
Ocean, voluptuous destroyer, help!
Thou always wast a rebel! Lash and chafe !
Rage! Leap! Spit thy triumphant spume to heaven!
Open thy gulfy jaws for this new herd,
This Gadarean feast that I shall send thee!
Hither, ye winds! Howl! Browbeat! Roar and
baffle
These seafarers. Drown all, save one! Spare him!
(Stretches forth his hand; lightning, thunder.)
Louder! 'Tis very good! Evil is good,
:
6
ACT I
THE TEMPTER
And power is good, and Death and ruin good!
Why, He pronounced Creation good, and I
Pronounce Destruction good!
(A great cry of fright; a crowd of the
PRINCE'S Attendants rush up from below
in panic, followed by the PRINCE and
SIR GAULTIER.)
Here come this fry!
(The vessel reels; a cry of fright.)
Why, how these barn-door fowl cling to their lives!
(Shrieks, howls.)
The PRINCE and SIR GAULTIER come from below.
PRINCE. Ye knaves! What now? What ails ye?
What's to do?
(Following the Attendants, driving them in
front of him. Cries of "We drown,
we perish!")
Well, drown, and perish, if ye must, like men.
Ye have faced death a hundred times in battle,
When wounds and agony, horror and thirst,
Waited upon him. And are ye frighted now,
When he comes tenderly as dreaming sleep?
Shame! Shame! Ye cowards! Nay, ye have served
me well.
I will speak gently! Soldiers, servants, friends!
(Murmurs of "The Prince speaks." "Hear
him."
howls.)
(C
Listen," etc. The wind
SCENE I
7
THE TEMPTER
(Raising his voice.) As ye would bear yourselves upon
the field,
So bear you now.
He that doth blench or flinch
Is no liege-man of mine.
Look upon me !
What one among you all has such dear cause
To live as I? Yonder the sweetest lady
In all of Christendom, waits to be made
My bride! What joy of life I ne'er shall taste
If we go down, and yet ye see me here
As calm as though I laid me down to sleep.
DEVIL. Oh, you're a man of pluck! You're a man
of mettle, but wait till I get you on my grindstone.
(Cries of "Long live the Prince!")
PRINCE. Is any yet afeared?
(Cries of "No," interrupted by thunder and
lightning; cries of fear; the Master of
the vessel rushes on in alarm.)
MASTER. My liege, she's sinking! Save yourself
how you can!
SIR GAUL. Sinking! Then God have mercy on us!
PRINCE. Oh, Gaultier ! 'tis maddening that I
Shall die, and never clasp her. If thou live
Bear thou my message, say that as I sank
(Taking picture from his breast, kissing it)
I held her picture to my lips, and whispered
Avis.
(Lightning, thunder; a bolt strikes the ship
and splits the mast; the ship begins to
sink; cries of terror and despair.)
8
ACT I
THE TEMPTER
Kiss me! we're sinking!
(Hurrying, confusion; cries of "We're sink-
ing!" "She's sinking!" "To the
SAILOR.
boat!" Sailors rush on and fall on
their knees.)
God have mercy! Christ have mercy!
God hear me !
DEVIL. He's deaf! He's not at home! He's
gone upon a journey!
me!
IST SAILOR (on his knees). God have mercy on
DEVIL. I'll have mercy on thee.
3RD SAILOR.
Save me to repent! Let me live!
Let me live! (Rushing frantically backwards and for-
wards, shrieking and squealing.) Give me another
year, another month, another hour. Save me to
repent!
(Climbs up to the DEVIL.)
DEVIL. Repent, rascal? Thou hast been damned
these ten years past.
(He is washed overboard with a cry; more
Sailors and Attendants rush on; the
ship sinks deeper; cries of despair.)
SAILOR. There's liquor in the hold.
DEVIL. Drink, ye rascals. Drown yourselves in
drink. Die besotted. You'll wake sober. (Sailors
bring on a barrel of liquor; they open it, and begin
quarrelling.) (Above them in the aftcastle.) Up!
Up, and cut each other's throats! Let's have some
SCENE I
9
THE TEMPTER
mutiny! To the boats, and fight each other like wild
beasts!
SAILORS. The boats! The boats!
DEVIL. That's better. Curse! Curse! Mutiny!
Blaspheme!
The ship
Darkness.
A lurid
(The vessel reels; the moon breaks out and
reveals the DEVIL steering, Sailors
quarrelling and stabbing each other.
Sailors shout and point him out.
"Look! Look !" Yells of execration.
The vessel lurches and they are swept off.
The vessel sinks still deeper. As the
vessel goes down the PRINCE is seen
climbing up to the DEVIL.
sinks. Cries and groans.
Cries and groans continue.
dawn slowly spreads over the scene with
great leaden storm-clouds above, and
along the horizon copper clouds in a pale
green lake of light. A small boat is seen
on the waters with the PRINCE and the
DEVIL therein, the DEVIL rowing. The
sea is strewn with corpses, and faintly
reflects the copper sky; the mast of the
sunken ship is seen above the waters.
Land dimly seen in the distance, fringed
with surf. Scene changes to Scene II.)
IO
ACT I
THE TEMPTER
SCENE II
COURTYARD OF THE FLEUR-DE-LYS INN ON THE
CANTERBURY ROAD
A large archway, right, leading from the road. An
archway, left. A balcony all along left side over
the archway, with steps coming down. The inn
door with porch at back, to the left. A large bench
outside the inn at back, to the right. A stone seat
down stage, left. The balcony pillars are covered
with ivy, which grows on to the bright warm red
roof at back. Everything very bright and sunny.
Enter DROGO POUND, steward to the EARL of Rouge-
MONT, goes to the inn door, shouts, knocks.
DROGO. Ho! ho! Here!
Enter Host and Serving-man from inn.
HOST. Give you good day, sir!
DROGO. Make ready all your rooms on the
instant. Here comes my lord, the Earl of Rouge-
mont, and the Lady Avis, his daughter, and the Lady
Isobel of Carmayne, his niece, and Sir Gilbert
Morbec, with divers other pilgrims on their way to
the shrine of the blessed St. Thomas at Canterbury!
(Seats himself.) Some wine. And, hearkee, I know
good wine!
SCENE II
II
THE TEMPTER
HOST (to Serving-man). Bid them make ready
all the rooms. Bring this gentleman some of the ten
year old. (Exit Serving-man into inn.) We had
knowledge of the Lord Rougemont's coming. They
say the Lady Avis is to be wedded to a great lord of -
France, and she is now on her wedding journey.
DROGO. True, and the Prince Leon of Auvergne
is now on his way across the sea to meet her at
Canterbury, and wed her there.
(Servant brings wine to DROGO.)
HOST. Heaven give them joy, and send peace
between us and France!
DROGO. Amen! (Drinks deeply.) That's good
liquor, host.
HOST. 'Tis my best.
DROGO. Hearkee, we may lodge here some days.
I do not eat now nor drink, save bread and water
only. (The Host looks surprised.) My lord and I
are doing penance; we walk barefoot; we sleep but
three hours a night; we wake at midnight and receive
a wholesome scourging. My lord has a beggar to
We are
scourge him; my wife Sarah scourges me.
doing a mighty penance till we purge ourselves clean
of all sin at the tomb of the holy martyr. See that
my wife Sarah hath plenty of this same liquor while
we lodge here. What hast thou for supper?
(SARAH has entered from archway; comes to
DROGO.)
HOST. Some flesh of mutton and beef, some
12
ACT I
THE TEMPTER
venison pasties, some boar's head, some chitterlings
-we have abundance of good cheer.
(DROGO has been smacking his lips, and nod-
ding his head approvingly.)
DROGO. Put down thy belongings, Sarah, and find
thy way to the buttery. Are there any beggars in
your town?
HOST. We have a goodly multitude of Christ's poor.
DROGO (to Serving-man). Call hither all the
beggars of the town. Tell them the Lord of Rouge-
mont comes, and is full of blessed charity.
(Exit Serving-man.)
HOST. What sin hath the Earl of Rougemont
done that he doeth such grievous penance?
DROGO. He hath seized upon the estate of Car-
mayne in France, which by rights should go to his
niece the Lady Isobel. He lays claim to it under the
Salic law, and hath appealed to the Holy Father, who
hath ruled that he shall keep all the earldom, and do
penance for it to Holy Church.
HOST. Heaven assoyle his soul! And the Lady
Isobel ?
DROGO. Oh! she is to be a nun; she is naught.
Prepare your worst room for my lord,-'tis his
penance. Put the Lady Avis in your best room.
The Lady Isobel-'tis no matter where you put her,
she is naught. See that my wife Sarah is comfortably
lodged. My lord is resting a mile hence; I go to
fetch him. See that all is made ready.
SCENE II
13
THE TEMPTER
HOST. It shall straightway be done.
(Exit into inn.)
Enter the DEVIL at left gateway, dressed as a soldier
of forty-five, bluff, hearty, roystering.
DEVIL (calling off). Perk up, my bantling!
Your best leg forward.
(The PRINCE staggers in, pale, weak, utterly ex-
hausted; his clothes ragged, torn, muddy.)
I-
PRINCE. I'm dog-tired! I'll go no further!
I-(staggers). I-oh-I shall die! (Drops fainting.)
DEVIL. Some day-not yet. 'Tis thy live soul I
want,
Not thy dead body. Ho, hither! Ho! ho!
(Beating at the inn door.)
Host enters in a hurry.
HOST. Why, who the devil-(seeing the DEVIL).
Your pardon, sir! A hearty welcome to you!
DEVIL. My constant greeting!
HOST (seeing the PRINCE). Why, who is here?
DEVIL. A friend of mine.
HOST. Not dead?
DEVIL. No, he has swooned.
to revive him—the ten year old.
moves slowly.) Come, be alive!
Some of thy liquor
Get it! (The Host
About it! Quick,
or I shall tickle you! (The Host hurries into inn.
The Prince gasps.)
A
14
ACT I
THE TEMPTER
(Bending over the PRINCE.) Ah! gasp and groan.
You'd marry Lady Avis,
Tinker a peace between these angry kings,
Cheat me of famine, war, and pestilence.
When I stand ready to unleash my hounds.
For glut and rapine of a hundred years,
You'd muzzle them, and marry Lady Avis.
I'll show thee better sport than Lady Avis ;
And I'll show Isobel far better sport
Than marrying Holy Church, and I will have
A little merry sport myself, and twist
Things inside out, and upside down, and stir
A glorious hurly-burly hereabout.
The Host enters from inn with wine.
The DEVIL
bends over the PRINCE and shouts in his ear.
Hillo! hillo! Wake up! Wake up! Hillo!
(The PRINCE stirs a little.)
(To the Host.) Open his jaws, and pour it down.
(The Host does so; the PRINCE drinks, revives.)
How now?
PRINCE. Oh, I shall die!
DEVIL. Die? Ah, to be sure you will, after a
good life well spent in drinking and wenching, and all
manner of wholesome ungodliness. Drink again!
(The PRINCE drinks.) Some more! Come! That's
brave! Now you're a man again!
PRINCE (dazed, weak, fuddled). How long have
we been travelling together?
SCENE II
15
THE TEMPTER
DEVIL. All the day long since six in the morning.
What's to-day?
PRINCE.
DEVIL.
Wednesday.
PRINCE. Then 'twas last night I was shipwrecked?
DEVIL. Shipwrecked? Ay, so I suppose; I
happened to be abroad early this morning and found
you on the seashore, flat on your belly, with your
nose in the mud, like the mouldy figurehead of a ten
years drowned vessel.
PRINCE. Why have you shown me such kindness?
(Looking keenly at him.) Who are you? Tell me,
that I may reward you.
DEVIL. Virtue is its own reward. Host, prepare
us some supper! See to it! My friend is ready to
famish. (The Host is going into inn.) (Calls.) Host,
have you seen aught of my very good friends, the
Earl of Rougemont and the Lady Avis? (The PRINCE
stops drinking and shows eager attention.) And the
Lady Isobel of Carmayne?
HOST. They are now coming into the town; we
are making ready our best accommodation for them.
(Exit Host into inn.)
PRINCE (starts up). The Lady Avis will be here
to-night. (Looks at his clothes with great shame.)
Look at me! (Looking at his draggled attire; creep-
ing off.)
I'll hide somewhere till they've gone on their way.
DEVIL (stopping him). Hearkee! You've not
seen the Lady Avis since you were children?
:

16
ACT I
THE TEMPTER
1
PRINCE. No. (The DEVIL looks at him, laughs,
grunts.)
What's the matter?
DEVIL (grunts disapprovingly, shakes his head).
It's no affair of mine.
PRINCE. What's no affair of yours?
DEVIL. Your marriage with the Lady Avis. And
yet-
PRINCE. Well, yet-
DEVIL.
Don't ask me. I'm far too ready to
mix myself in other people's business.
me!
Don't ask
PRINCE (pursuing him). But, sir, if you know
anything, I entreat you as my friend-
DEVIL.
Why do you think of marrying her?
PRINCE. We are pledged to one another, and our
marriage will secure our countries' peace.
DEVIL (grunts). Well, marry her.
PRINCE. Why so I shall, unless-
DEVIL. Unless! Drink, man, and listen. (The
PRINCE drinks.) Why, what a plague do you want
war to cease-you, a knight and soldier? And what
a plague do you want to marry in the heyday of
your youth and lustihood? Marry? Drown your-
self! Marry? Hang yourself! Marry? Bury your-
self! I've been travelling with these pilgrims! I've
-(sniffs) what I have seen. The Lady Avis
is no match for you. But the Lady Isobel! The
Lady Isobel! Oh, my lost youth!
seen
SCENE II
17
THE TEMPTER
PRINCE. But I'm betrothed to the Lady Avis.
DEVIL. Well, marry her!
PRINCE. Is she not worthy of me?
DEVIL. Judge her for yourself before you go
further.
PRINCE. Judge her for myself? How can I?
DEVIL. Hum! A young squire was slain here in
a drunken brawl. I did my best to keep him out of
it, but he would fight, the fool. His dress is within;
'tis a rich silk and velvet; put it on, and be my squire.
PRINCE. Your squire?
DEVIL. You're not expected for a day or two;
you can study her and know her, yourself unknown ;
and when the game is out you can declare yourself.
Make way
DROGO (his voice heard off right).
there for the mighty Earl of Rougemont, and the Lady
Avis, and the Lady Isobel of Carmayne.
DEVIL. Come! (The PRINCE hesitates.) Judge
her before you marry her. Come!
(Leading the way into the inn.)
PRINCE (hesitating, laughingly, jestingly). So I'm
to be your squire ?
DEVIL. You'll find me a merry, easy master.
(They look off; the DEVIL draws the PRINCE
into the inn.)
Enter the EARL OF ROUGEMONT, barefooted, in sack-
cloth, doing penance. Enter DROGO. Enter the
LADY AVIS and her maid. Enter the LADY ISOBEL
C
18
ACT I
THE TEMPTER
4.
and LETTICE, her maid. Enter SIR GILBERT
MORBEC, very attentive to the LADY ISOBEL, who is
cold and reserved to him. Enter SARAH POUND.
Enter some twenty other Pilgrims of different ages,
ranks, and stations.
EARL OF R. Is everything prepared for me as for
the vilest sinner on this earth?
DROGO (very obsequiously). Yes, my lord.
EARL OF R. Bring me the beggars.
DROGO. I go to fetch them, my lord.
(The Pilgrims make a move to go into the inn.)
EARL OF R. I pray you all wait and bear witness
how I abase myself before the dregs and offscouring
of the earth.
(The Pilgrims wait.)
Iso. I wonder what hath become of our delightful
guide and companion to-day.
(The DEVIL peeps round the balcony of the inn
just above her. A black gown is thrown
over his soldier's dress, giving him the
appearance of a gentleman scholar; his
manners are well bred, elegant, plausible,
bland, cynical, philosophical, engaging.
With the LADY ISOBEL and LADY AVIS
he continues this manner, with the
PRINCE he assumes a rougher, bluffer,
more soldierly manner.)
DEVIL (looking down on her). You miss me, then?
You'll find me at your side,
SCENE II
19
THE TEMPTER
Or in your ear, or perched upon your instep,
Or swinging in your curls, or galloping
In your rebellious blood, whene'er you will.
(Coming down the balcony steps to them.)
Avis. I do not like that man. He frightens me.
SIR GIL. I hate him. He's a coxcomb.
DEVIL. List'ners, they say—
I can't
bear him.
SIR GIL.
A cursed coxcomb!
Damn him!
DEVIL. Damn me!
That's quite superfluous!
That's butter
On bacon.
Iso.
To me.
He is full of pleasantness
Who can he be, I wonder? Minstrel,
Or traveller, courtier, philosopher,
Soldier, or what?
DEVIL (aside). Just what folks think me, that
I am.
(Coming down steps to them.)
(Very courteous, smiling.) Your very humble-servant,
ladies. Sir Gilbert, your servant. (Bowing.) Merry
good day to you!
(SIR GILBERT scowls at him, and exit into
inn.)
Iso. Where have you been?
DEVIL.
}
Not far, and I've returned
(Stepping between her and AVIS, separating
them, whispering into ISOBEL's ear)
To see your holy uncle butter Heaven.
Watch him!
20
ACT I
THE TEMPTER
"
Re-enter DROGO at the head of a crowd of Beggars of
all ages, both sexes,-a very dirty, variegated rabble.
DROGO (arranging the Beggars). Be seemly now!
Be orderly.
(The EARL OF ROUGEMONT comes forward
with a very meek and sanctified expres-
sion, kneels to the Beggars, praying at
the same time, lifting his eyes to Heaven.)
DEVIL (observing him). Oh, how I love a hypocrite!
There's reason
And salary for other sins.
For lies,
Lust, murder, robbery, I pay good wage,
But all my darling hypocrites sin gratis,
Do penance, mortify themselves, mouth, fast,
Obey a thousand senseless, joyless rites.
For what? That Heaven and I may both look on,
Equally uncozened, equally amused:
Go on, poor hypocrites, and cheat yourselves.
(The EARL OF ROUGEMONT continues on his
knees praying.)
DROGO (to the Beggars). Back, ye knaves, back,
ye scullions!
Doff your caps.
Know ye whose presence ye are in ?
EARL OF R. (rising). Chide them not, Drogo!
They are in the presence of the most miserable sinner
that walks this earth.
(Taking out purse to distribute alms.)
DEVIL (aside to ISOBEL). He hath stolen all thy
ཉ
SCENE II
21
THE TEMPTER
heritage of Carmayne, and he will buy his soul's pardon
with these few stray pence. It's a cheap quittance.
Iso. (to the DEVIL). Will Heaven quit him?
EARL OF R. (showering alms amongst the Beggars).
Here, my brethren, my sisters. 'Tis all I have by me,
but ye are truly welcome. Ye deserve it far more
than I. (The Beggars scramble for the money.)
DROGO.
Long live the Earl of Rougemont!
Shout, ye scum! Shout, ye carcasses!
BEGGARS (scrambling about). Long live the Earl
of Rougemont.
(The EARL goes to the inn door. The Beggars
shout.)
EARL OF R.
Pray not for my life. Life is evil.
Pray for my soul. Drogo, see that the filthiest of
them all is appointed to scourge me. (To the Beggars.)
Pray for my soul.
(Exit into inn; all the Pilgrims follow him
except AVIS, ISOBEL, and LETTICE.)
DEVIL. Ay, pray for his soul. The breath that's
wasted hereabouts would turn a dozen windmills.
But pray away! Pray away!
(DROGO looks amongst the Beggars, and selects
the most ill-favoured ruffian of them all.)
DROGO (to the rest of the Beggars). Away, ye
villains! Begone!
(Exeunt all the Beggars except the one selected.)
Hither, you scab! Come to my lord's room bide
there till midnight; then wake him, drag him from
22
ACT I
THE TEMPTER
his bed, and give him forty stripes. Lay them on
soundly. Spare him not. Scourge the Devil out of
him. (Exeunt DROGO and the Beggar into inn.)
DEVIL. They whip themselves for my misdeeds.
I like
This doctrine of vicarious suffering.
(Manent DEVIL, ISOBEL, Avis, and LETTICE.)
Iso. (to LETTICE). Go see what room they have
prepared for me.
(LETTICE comes up to the inn door.
The
DEVIL is standing across it, arms akimbo
in a contemplative mood; she cannot pass.)
LET. Good sir, will you let me pass?
(Curtsies to him.)
DEVIL. You curtsey prettily. Curtsey again.
(She curtsies again, more lowly.)
You have been well taught, little minx.
LET. My mother bid me always curtsey to a
gentleman.
(Curtsies again.)
DEVIL. You're a rare judge of character, but
hearkee,
(Whispers in her ear; she turns pale with
fright)
William Gamel's played you false.
LET. Oh, sir!
DEVIL. Hush! (Motions her that LADY ISOBEL
may see her.) We'll have some further talk about him.
(Motions her into the inn. Exit LETTICE,
scared, trembling.)
SCENE II
23
THE TEMPTER
Poor little soul! It's rather sorry work
Damning such
trader;
All's fish that swims
sprats. But I'm a wholesale
within my net, and here
(Watching ISOBEL and AVIS)
Is bigger game.
(Inside porch, watching.)
Avis (following ISOBEL). Why dost thou turn
from me?
Thou lov'st me not as thou wast wont to do.
Thou shalt not give thyself unto the Church;
Thou art not quite resolved?
Indeed I am.
Iso.
What else remains to me? The day that thou
Dost give thyself unto thy Prince, that day
I give myself unto my God.
DEVIL (watching, aside). To God, dear maid?
AVIS. Then for this little while be all my own,
My very own, my sister sweetheart. Love me!
(Coaxing, fondling ISOBEL.)
Love me, I say, love me with all thy heart!
I will not be denied! Love me! Dost hear?
Iso. (coldly). Thou hast another love.
Avis.
I want thine too.
What is it that hath come between us, dear?
Is it Carmayne? If it were mine to say,
Carmayne should all be thine.
Iso.
And thy Prince too?
Avis. No, not my Prince, for from my cradle
upwards
24
ACT I
THE TEMPTER
He hath been promised to me.
Thou grudgest me?
Iso.
Is it my Prince
I grudge thee nothing, cousin.
Avis. Then say with all thy heart, speak very
truth,
"Avis, I wish you joy."
DEVIL (aside).
'Tis easily said;
Kiss her and hate her.
Come, tell a gracious lie.
(ISOBEL suddenly flings her arms round Avis.)
Iso. I wish you joy! Be happy, dearest Avis !
Avis. Why, so I will be, now thou lovest me.
Iso.
I love thee? Yes! What thing have I beside
In all the earth to love-or that loves me?
Avis. Dear Isobel! How can I comfort thee?
(The DEVIL comes behind them to separate
them.)
Iso. (disengaging herself from Avis's embrace).
Nay, let me be! Look! Here's our stranger
(The DEVIL steps between them.)
friend!
Well, good sir mystery?
DEVIL.
Mystery? In me?
Iso. You join us suddenly, and all the day
Beguile us with your jest and song. And then
You vanish suddenly, and suddenly
You come again. If I may be so bold,
Who are you? What are you?
DEVIL.
Frankly I am a fallen gentleman.
That's a sore point.
I have known better days. I looked around
SCENE II
25
THE TEMPTER
And saw the world was shamefully misgoverned,
Confused, disordered, and quite out of joint.
I had a plan to put things straight. Alas!
'Twas quite misunderstood. I was defeated,
Since then
Lost my estate and character.
The world's affairs have grown from bad to worse,
And what the end will be, Heaven only knows!
Iso. Perhaps your character will be restored.
DEVIL. I trust so. I have many influential
Friends at court. Meantime I'm cruelly slandered,
And evil gossip hath so smudged my name
That in good company I do not choose
To mention who I am. But whatsoe'er
Folks say, I'm not so black as I've been painted.
Iso. Poor gentleman!
DEVIL (to AVIS). Will you not pity me?
Avis. I do not understand your case.
cousin!
Come,
(Trying to get ISOBEL away.)
Iso. No. Stay. (To the DEVIL.) What is your

occupation now?
DEVIL. I journey to and fro about the world—
(Pause)
Studying mankind.
Iso.
DEVIL.
What do you think of men?
Ah! Do not ask. Perhaps I'm
judiced!
Perhaps I've seen too much of them, know
Too well.
Iso. (very coaxing). But give us your
26
ACT I
THE TEMPTER
DEVIL. If you will have it, man's an odd animal,
Much lower than the angels; rather higher
Than the brutes; false, envious, vicious, greedy,
Ignorant, vain, inconstant, superstitious,
Purposeless, impotent, ridiculous.
He knows not whence he comes nor where he goes;
He bribes his fellow-apes to flatter him,
Sniffs up the incense of their mean applause,
And calls it glory. He sets up an image.
Of his lank, pitiable, monkey self,
And calls it God. He brags and perishes;
That's all his history. "Tis charitable
To think him mad; for that's the only key
To his most strange career on this strange earth.
And why he tarries here, and why he labours,
And feeds and rests, and why he keeps on breeding,
Are mysteries to me. (Suddenly to Avis.) Your
pardon, lady,
This is too strong philosophy for maids.
I hear you're shortly to be wed. And girls.
Who are to marry should know naught of life.
Avis. You seem to see much evil in mankind.
DEVIL. They are a speckled lot.

Iso.
But sure, Prince Leon-
vis (quickly). Cousin, I would not have Prince
eon's name
to company with such talk as this!
Dear damosel, you're right. He is to be
d husband. So believe him perfect.
SCENE II
27
THE TEMPTER
Avis. I know him for a pure and blameless knight.
(Avis turns away from him to go into the
inn.)
DEVIL. I never knew a knight that wasn't blameless
And pure. They're all alike, the very flower
Of chivalry.
AVIS (at inn door). Sir, you have read him truly.
Come, Isobel, 'tis near to vesper time.
Iso.
(Exit into inn. It is growing dusk. ISOBEL
is following her into inn, stops.)
No, I'll stay here and take the evening air.
What is it so disquiets me to-night?
Breathes and o'erhovers, drives about my spirit
With unimaginable dreads and hopes,
And footfalls of some great event to come?
Shadow me softly, angel of my future!
(Her eyes rest upon the DEVIL; he is looking
steadfastly at her; she goes towards arch-
way. She turns and looks at the DEVIL,
goes towards him, turns, and goes off.
A vesper hymn is sung within during
the following speech.)
DEVIL (looking after her).
Isobel doth lend
How wooingly this
Her soul unto its ruin. Oh, thou desire
Of every eye! Beauty incomparable!
How gloriously it will become thee, girl,
To sit in that fierce place, swaddled in coats
Of fire, while on the tendrils of thy heart,
28
ACT I
THE TEMPTER
Thy woman's heart, fattens th' undying worm,
And from thy honied lips thy honied tongue
Hangs in white scurf of thirst unquenchable.
At other times, when I am frolicsome,
To plunge with thee in hissing lava lakes,
Or burn through blist'ring hails; to ache and pant
Under th' intolerable, thick oppression
Of stagnant air. Then suddenly to snatch thee
To awful heights, breathless, unbearable;
To buckle thee all shuddering to my side,
And ride on singeing whirlwinds boisterous,
Intoxicate with bedlam mirth, midst loud
Ascending choruses reverberant,
Th'eternal music that lost spirits make,
Sweeter than dulcimers, more clamorous
Than cymbals, than the lyre more plaintive far,
Groans, howls, gnashings of teeth, desires, despairs,
Heart-hungers, curses fruitless, fruitless prayers,
Tears, shrieks, and wails unending. This is thy lot.
How wilt thou bear these sovreign agonies,
Proud Lady Isobel?
(Withdraws into the shade of the porch.)
ISOBEL re-enters; SIR GILBERT is following her.
SIR GIL. (to ISOBEL). Will you not walk with me?
Iso.
I do not choose.
SIR GIL. But I would speak with you.
(Stopping her entrance to the inn.)
SCENE II
29
THE TEMPTER
Iso.
I do not choose.
(He comes nearer to her.)
You weary me! You weary me!
You are more tedious than life itself.
Have done!
(Exit. SIR GILBERT stands nonplussed. The
DEVIL comes up behind him.)
DEVIL. After her, man! Look how she nods and
pouts.
(SIR GILBERT starts to go after her, stops.)
SIR GIL.
DEVIL.
She seems in anger.
All roguery and woman's trickery.
Yes, to draw you on.
Trust me! I know them! Look! After her, man.
(SIR GILBERT rushes off after ISOBEL.)
(Watching very complacently.) There will be a tempest.
Enter DROGO and SARAH from inn. SARAH has a
quantity of provisions and a large wine-jar under
her cloak.
DROGO (very tenderly). Full of plums, Sarah?
And the stuffed brawn, Sarah?
SARAH. 'Tis all here under my cloak, lovey Drogo!
DEVIL (making a wry face). Lovey Drogo!
(SARAH chucking him under the chin. DROGO
kisses her.)
(Annoyed, impatient.) This middle-aged cossetting!
There's something horribly unnatural about it.
DROGO. And the venison pasty?
SARAH. Yes, yes, lovey. Here it is!
30
ACT 1
THE TEMPTER
DROGO. My blessing! What a rich treasure thou
art to me, Sarah.
DEVIL. How now, Drogo?
DROGO (bowing). Save you, good sir!
DEVIL. Amen. Where go you, Drogo?
DROGO. We go for a loving walk while the others
of our company sup.
DEVIL (pointing with his sword to Sarah's cloak).
What's this, Sarah?
(SARAH turns round, goes towards archway;
the DEVIL follows her, with his sword
drawn.)
SARAH. Oh, good sir-pray you, sir
DEVIL.
Uncloak! Let's see.
dishes.) Is that your supper, Drogo?
(She drops the
DROGO (unmoved). No, sir. 'Tis Sarah's. I have
vowed to eat naught but bread and water on this
pilgrimage. I do penance with my lord.
DEVIL. Good Drogo! Follow thy lord's example.
You'll make a good end, Drogo.
DROGO. Sir, I shall strive. Come, Sarah, put
away the victuals from my sight, they may tempt me.
(Smells them.) Nay, I am strong enough to be
tempted. (Smelling the victuals. Exeunt SARAH
and DROGO.)
DEVIL (watching them off). That rogue has caught
hypocrisy from his master. It's very catching here
in England! There must be something in the climate
of this favoured isle that suits with it! When I have
SCENE II
31
THE TEMPTER
time I'll look me out a pair of very choice hypocrites,
and plant them here in England; they'll breed, they'll
breed, and in a few hundred years the country will
swarm with them! (Looking off.) Here come my
other turtle-doves.
ISOBEL enters, right, in a furious rage, followed by
SIR GILBERT sulky, resentful, baffled.
What is it now?
Iso. (with immense disdain). This fellow, this
thing here
That creeps about me, hath so far forgot
The lineage that I bear, and who I am,
That he hath dared to put upon me treatment
Such as he'd offer in his cups to some
Base kitchen wench. Down on thy knees, thou
dastard!
Down at my feet, I say, and ask my pardon!
SIR GIL. Thy pardon! Booh on thy pardon!
Hearkee!
You're a proud vixen, and you must be tamed!
Thy pardon? Booh, and booh!
(Makes her a mock bow, bursts into jeering
laughter, exit. She stands rigid with
anger for some moments, stamps her feet
with rage, then bursts into sobs. The
DEVIL approaches her very insinuatingly
from behind.)
|
32
ACT I
THE TEMPTER
DEVIL (very softly and sweetly). Lady, your pardon.
Iso. Don't look at me. I am ashamed to weep.
I'm utterly alone, forsaken, friendless!
DEVIL. No; I'm your friend. How often latterly
I've watched you, and how vainly longed to help you!
How good you are!
Iso.
DEVIL.
Why do you bear these wrongs
And insults, when so easily you might
Put forth your hand and take your great revenge?
Iso. Revenge?
DEVIL.
Upon this holy robber-uncle
That thieves your land! Upon this meek-faced cousin
That thieves your husband.
Iso (startled, looks round). Husband!
DEVIL.
Your cousin has not seen the Prince since childhood;
She nurses her calf-love.
And has no taste for pap.
Iso.
I said it.
He's a grown man,
I am betrothed
Unto the Church. How durst thou tell me this?
DEVIL. You are not wed. Why vow yourself
away,
Your warm, live self, your beauty, wit, and grace,
To that bleak spouse, the Church; to starving diet,
To clammy, crude discomfort, prayer and fast,
And chilly vigils with the bloodless saints,
The fire and joy of life damped out! No, no!
You shall not do it! Hark! I know the Prince.
Iso. (listens fascinated). You know the Prince?
SCENE II
33
THE TEMPTER
1
DEVIL.
Iso. What's he like?
DEVIL (smiles).
Iso.
As well as my own brother.
He is a man.
But what's he like?
DEVIL (smiling). He is a man.
Iso.
Ay, but what kind of man?
DEVIL (with great insinuation; she listens with
great attention, much fascinated).
flower of bravery and grace.
He is the
All the French dames are lovelorn mad for him,
And green with jealousy for his passing look.
He's lithe as willow, strong as oak, as straight
As fir, supple as ash, as cherry sweet,
Graceful as vine. He's the ripe spring incarnate!
His veins flush fuller with live blood than June
With sap.
His step is like the antelope's ;
His thrust a spear of lightning, but his kiss
Is spicery and west wind.
Health and bright mirth
Play at his heels, his eyes laugh light, his lips
Speak honey. Such a man is he.
Iso. (has listened with breathless admiration). Indeed!
DEVIL (continuing). He is the bravest knight in
all the land,
And on his mother's side his blood is royal.
When the king dies, the factions that rend France
Will one day put the throne within his reach.
She whom he chooses will be Queen of France.
Iso. (lifts herself proudly). The Queen of France!
Thou dost not say so?
D
34
ACT I
THE TEMPTER
DEVIL (aside).
Humph!
They're credulous still!
Iso. (suddenly puts her fingers in her ears). No,
no! I'll hear no more.
'Tis treachery!
DEVIL.
No. 'Tis but a just reward
To them who've stolen all your heritage.
Now seize your chance and pay them home again.
The Prince is here to-night.
Listen.
Iso.
He's here?
DEVIL. Hush! Not a word of it. He's here in
secret!
Iso. Where? where?
DEVIL.
Within the house, playing my squire.
Hush. (Whispers to her.) This is he.
The PRINCE enters from inn door, richly dressed.
ISOBEL shows great admiration.
(Whispers to PRINCE.)
The Lady Isobel.
(The PRINCE looks at ISOBEL, is overwhelmed
with her beauty, doffs his cap, and
stands gazing at her. The DEVIL creeps
away up the balcony and leaves them.)
PRINCE. Lady, I am your true and faithful servant.
DEVIL (in the shade on the balcony). And mine!
(They stand entranced looking at each other.)
CURTAIN.
(A fortnight passes.)
!
ACT II
SCENE THE GUEST-HOUSE OF SAINT WERBURG'S
ABBEY, NEAR CANTERBURY
Night. The chief guest-table is raised, and a rich red
damask canopy overhangs it. Supper is laid on the
tables. Before the curtain is raised the Pilgrims
are heard singing their vesper hymn without; the
curtain is raised.
Enter from abbey FATHER URBAN, the Prior, a kindly,
gentle old priest; he comes down stage and opens
outer door to Pilgrims, who enter, headed by the
EARL OF ROUGEMONT, LADY AVIS, LADY ISOBEL,
and SIR GILBERT following. SARAH and DRogo
are amongst the Pilgrims. LETTICE and the Devil
bring up the rear. The DEVIL is whispering in
LETTICE'S ear. The hymn ceases when all have
entered. One of the abbey attendants speaks to
LETTICE, and takes her up the stairs at back.
Attendant comes down.
FATHER U. Benedicite, my children. Your
36
ACT II
THE TEMPTER
lodgings are prepared, and see, your supper waits for
you as soon as evensong is sung. The chapel is
yonder. (Pointing to chapel-door. The Pilgrims move
through to chapel.)
EARL OF R. (to FATHER URBAN). Is there with
you some ghostly father of more than common piety
and zeal that can shrive me?
FATHER U. We have here in the abbey one
Father Cyprian, who has lately come from Rome and
Jerusalem. He is reputed to have great skill with
afflicted souls.
(ISOBEL is eagerly listening.)
EARL OF R.
FATHER U.
two days, and
Bring me to him after evensong.
He hath kept his cell fasting these
hath commanded that none disturb
him. But I will ask him to give you an audience.
(Exit EARL OF ROUGEMONT into chapel.
All the other Pilgrims have gone in
except ISOBEL.)
Iso. (to FATHER URBAN). My father
(URBAN
turns round as he is going into chapel.) Would this
same Father Cyprian give me an audience?
FATHER U.
thy young soul.
(The DEVIL is listening and watching.)
Surely there is no great trouble upon
Iso. (hastily). No! no! but I need counsel! Oh,
I sorely need counsel !
FATHER U. I'll bring Father Cyprian to thee by
and by.
(Exeunt URBAN and ISOBEL into chapel.
ACT II
37
THE TEMPTER
The PRINCE enters at outer door; stands
there dejected, ashamed.
The DEVIL is
cosily seated in large chair.)
DEVIL (just raises his head). Where have you
been all day?
PRINCE.
Hiding for shame
And fear lest she should see me as I was.
DEVIL. She? Who? Your bride? The Lady Avis?
PRINCE.
Avis?
She's far too white a flower for me to wear.
No! Th' other one, my fate, my mate, my love,
My self! The Lady Isobel! Where is she?
(The DEVIL pointing over his shoulder with
his thumb.)
DEVIL. Praying, in there, for grace to say you
"No."
(The PRINCE going towards chapel-door.)
PRINCE. Well may she pray, for I shall fiercely
tempt her.
DEVIL. That's what she fears-and hopes; and
while she prays
For strength to say you "No," means all the time
To say you "Yes." I know this kind of cattle!
PRINCE (comes fiercely down to DEVIL). Hear me !
I will not wrong her!
DEVIL (looks at him, smiles). No, I wouldn't.
PRINCE (passionately). I love her! (The Devil
grunts.)
Truly, Heaven doth know!
38
ACT II
THE TEMPTER
DEVIL (drily).
Indeed!
PRINCE. I'm sick of all this treachery! To-morrow
I'll declare myself-make known my name to all.
DEVIL. So you said yesterday.
PRINCE.
But I will do it.
DEVIL. To-morrow. Yes, I think I would-to-
morrow.
It always was my favourite day-to-morrow.
I'll join you and repent myself-to-morrow.
You shall begin. You'll cut a sorry figure.
How shall you tally all the lies you've told?
What reason give for your unknightly manners
Towards your bride? And will you marry her,
And bid adieu to Lady Isobel?
How shall you cover up your drunken follies
Night after night?
PRINCE.
'Twas you that tempted me.
DEVIL. I tempted you?
PRINCE.
Last night you filled my cup,
Plied me till I was sodden, laughing, crying,
Hiccupping, shouting, like a crazy fool.
She did not see me so?
DEVIL. What if she did? (The PRINCE flings
himself in chair.)
(Standing over him.) Get up, you ninny! Come!
Get up, you fool!
What shall I do with you? I give you up!
PRINCE (moodily). Ay, give me up.
honest way,
I know no
ACT II
3392
THE TEMPTER
Or to retreat or to go on!
DEVIL.
Retreat?
Just as you've won? She's yours. You need but ask,
And you shall have.
PRINCE.
I'll go no further!
She loves me.
I'll not wrong her!
DEVIL (pointing to the chapel). She is there, just
there,
If you but show yourself, she will come out.
(The PRINCE goes up towards chapel, stops re-
solutely, faces the DEVIL.)
PRINCE. Ere I will go to her, I will be
DEVIL (politely).
As you may please.
That's
(Pointing to chapel-door.)
She's there! Just there!
(The PRINCE goes up to door.
smiles and exits at back.
The DEVIL
The PRINCE
draws back from the chapel-door. ISOBEL
comes out to him.)
Iso.
All day I've missed you!
PRINCE.
'Tis you!
I'm not fit to be
In company so dear as yours. Farewell.
Keep free of me! I would not do you harm!
Farewell!
(Rushing to outer door. ISOBEL looks at him
reproachfully, turns her head to hide her
tears; after another struggle with him-
self he rushes back to her.)
40
ACT II
THE TEMPTER
I cannot go ! Heaven bear me witness,
However this wild love of ours shall end,
What desperate straits and burning agonies,
Tortures, and lies, and crooked faithlessness,
Mad joys, and mad despairs, lie in its track,
I did desire to shun it, did desire
To spare thee! (Looks at her; then with fierce, sudden
abandonment.)
No! I will not spare thee! Hear me !
(Dropping on his knees at her feet, kissing her
hand.)
If that this kiss I seal upon thy hand
Should bring to thee and me eternal woe,
I would not bate it; I would take my fill.
Say such a spirit moves in thee. Tell n
Thou art my mate.
Iso.
me
You know what harm or grief
Our love should bring to me, I'd bear it freely.
To suffer is the woman's lot, but, oh!
May never the least pain or wrong or ill
Come to thee, dear, from this deep love of mine.
PRINCE. Nay, thee or me, 'tis all apiece; what each
Doth bear or do or feel, it is the other's.
There's no division 'twixt thy soul and mine;
In present or to come, we are but one.
Sweep from between us every obstacle!
Pass to me now across all boundaries!
Here!
Place thy hand in mine. Look full at me.
Say this: "Wherever thou shalt beckon me,
ACT II
41
THE TEMPTER
I'll come.
Whatever thou dost bid, I'll do !
Whatever thou dost ask, I'll give, be it
My life, my soul! Whate'er thou art, I'll be !
Where'er thy fate shall trend, my steps lie there,
To sunny isles and never-waning summer.
Deep bays of bliss or heights of unknown joy ;
Or over that dark verge precipitous
Where the lost grope and rage, thy path is mine."
(She shrinks back from him, half fascinated,
half frightened.)
Say it, oh, say it! Compass me about!
Speak th' immitigable strength of our vast love!
Bolt up our future!
Seal it fast!
Seal it fast!
Outrun
All joys, all woes, all wisdom, all remorse !
Snatch this one thing from Heaven! Sentence us
To our ne'er-changing doom, ne'er-changing love,
So that the hungry centuries may neʼer,
With all their bite and wrack, once tear thee from me.
Iso. Swear that thou wilt be constant.
thyself
To me as I now bind myself to thee.
Give me thy oath.
PRINCE.
Close kiss.
Iso.
A thousand oaths, and one
Then take me! All I am or have,
Or e'er shall have, or be, is yours! What's more
Bind
To say? All words are naught, and less than naught.
The nightingale ne'er sung it! All is vain!
The very top of love is ache and silence!
:
..
42
THE TEMPTER
ACT II
(He holds her in his arms for some moments ;
ISOBEL sighs deeply.)
PRINCE. What now?
Iso.
we wake?
PRINCE.
DEVIL.
All is so strange! When shall
Not yet! Not yet! Dream on!
(They stand entranced in one another's arms.
The DEVIL creeps in at back, and looks
at them.)
Why, what a store
This precious human herd sets upon love,
As if there were some value in't; as if
"Twere any rarer sweetmeat than the sugar
That candies over lust.
(The PRINCE looking at her with passionate
ecstasy.)
PRINCE.
Oh, I shall love thee
Through all eternity, until-
Iso.
Until?
DEVIL. Until to-morrow morning.
SIR
(The PRINCE is bending over ISOBEL.
GILBERT enters from chapel, and sees
them, shows jealousy and anger.)
SIR G. (to PRINCE). You fellow, move away!
Give place to me.
PRINCE (with great anger). What?
(The DEVIL quickly interposes.)
DEVIL. Hush! No words! Remember we are
guests.
ACT II
43
THE TEMPTER
(To SIR G.) I bade him wait upon the lady. Hush!
(Drawing him away from ISOBEL and
PRINCE.)
SIR G. But he is always dangling at her heels!
(The DEVIL quiets him, and gets him away.
LETTICE appears, comes from LADY
ISOBEL'S room, and stands at top of
stairs.)
LET. (to ISOBEL). So please you, Lady Isobel,
your room
Is ready.
Iso. Wait me there, I'll come. (LETTICE with-
draws into room.)
(To the PRINCE.)
Good-night.
(SIR GILBERT is trying to watch them; the
DEVIL is busy getting in his way, and
distracting him.)
PRINCE (aside to her). No, not good-night.
Iso. (going upstairs, looking at him fondly). Good-
night.
PRINCE (looking up to her). I will not say it.
(Going a step upstairs. Exit ISOBEL into
her room. SIR GILBERT shows great
anger.)
DEVIL (soothing him). Hush! take no heed of it!
My eyes are open,
And I can spy a way through him to tame her,
And bring her to your will.
SIR G.
Thou canst? But when?
44
ACT II
THE TEMPTER
DEVIL (very mysteriously). To-morrow! Mean-
time shut your eyes. To-morrow!
SIR G. But-
DEVIL.
Hush! To-morrow, man!
(Finger on lip.)
Now get your supper.
(The DEVIL gets him seated at supper-table.
The PRINCE comes towards SIR GIL-
BERT.)
DEVIL (calls the PRINCE away). Here, sir! (Beckons
him.) This beetlehead is watching you.
Draw you away and be not seen again.
There is a place outside where you may spy
Her window, looking from a little turret
On the south side. Go you and languish there.
Come back when all's asleep. I'll wait you here.
Meantime I'll pack him safe between the sheets.
PRINCE (going off at outer door). What way is this
I go?
(Exit at outer door.
The Pilgrims have been
gradually coming from the chapel. The
Hospitaller and Cellarer, and other
attendants, come in and begin to serve
the supper. LETTICE re-enters from
ISOBEL's room, and comes down to At-
tendant, who gives her a tray. SIR
GILBERT has risen, and is creeping off
after the PRINCE at outer door; the
DEVIL intercepts him.)
ACT II
45
THE TEMPTER
DEVIL.
SIR G.
How now, Sir Gilbert? Where d'ye go?
Your squire his chastisement.
To give
DEVIL (turning him right about face). Go you to
bed,
And sleep as soundly as a top until
The morning. Leave the rest to me.
SIR G. (protesting).
But why-
Bed's your
DEVIL. No whys or wherefores.
portion. Come!
SIR G. But-
DEVIL.
Hush!
(Walking up to dormitory door.)
Hush! To-morrow, man! To-morrow!
(Gets him off. The Pilgrims are now at
supper. DROGO is at end of the side-
table. SARAH is opposite to him. DROGO
is eating a slice of dry bread and drink-
ing cold water with very great discontent,
looking round at the other Pilgrims, who
are eating heartily of meat and rich
viands. LETTICE is going up to ISOBEL'S
room with tray. The DEVIL meets
her.)
DEVIL.
About this William Gamel—
LET. (startled). Yes, sir.
DEVIL. We'll talk it over-come to me here when
your mistress is asleep.
LET. Yes, sir.
46
ACT II
THE TEMPTER
DEVIL. To make all safe, pocket the key of her
room, and bring it with you, d'ye hear?
LET. Yes, sir.
(Exit with tray into ISOBEL's room.)
Enter from chapel the EARL OF Rougemont and
FATHER URBAN.
FATHER U. Please you to sit at supper, my Lord
of Rougemont?
EARL OF R. I need none. I eat not one morsel
more than suffices to keep this vile body alive. It is
my soul that is hungry. Bring me to the Father
Cyprian.
FATHER U. I'll inquire of him if he will see you.
Pray you to come this way.
(Goes up to door.
As the EARL OF ROUGE-
MONT is following him, the DEVIL comes
in his way and bows very obsequiously.)
EARL OF R. You, sir, I've not observed you in
church?
DEVIL. Yet I am often there.
EARL OF R. Indeed!
(Exit the EARL OF ROUGEMONT, FATHER
URBAN following him.)
DEVIL (to FATHER URBAN). That's a good man!
FATHER U. He has good intentions.
DEVIL. Excellent. (Exit FATHER URBAN after
EARL OF ROUGEMONT.) I'm always meeting folks
ACT II
47
THE TEMPTER
with good intentions. Strange that anybody should
be damned in a world where everybody has such
good intentions! But the government of this planet
is my perpetual riddle!
(DROGO has been sitting at end of lower guest-
table, munching a crust of dry bread,
looking very sourly round at all the Pil-
grims. A meek little Pilgrim is sitting
opposite to him, eating very contentedly.
DROGO scowls at him. SARAH is sitting
a little way up the table eating heartily.)
DROGO. My curse on all pilgrimages and pen-
ances !
SARAH.
I thought a full-bodied man like you,
Drogo, would never do penance?
DROGO. Full-bodied! Full-bodied! Full-bodied!
SARAH. Never mind, lovey; we shall soon be at
Canterbury now.
DROGO. We should have been there ten days
ago, but all's gone wrong since that plaguy stranger
joined us.
(The DEVIL is just behind DROGO, whispers
into his ear.
DEVIL. Look at that munching wife of yours!
How she stuffs and gobbles while her poor husband
is starving!
(Saunters round to SARAH. DROGO scowls
at SARAH, then scowls at the meek little
Pilgrim.)
F
48
ACT II
THE TEMPTER
DROGO (leaning over the table, savagely to the Pilgrim).
A plague on all guzzling, swilling knaves!
THE PIL. (in a weak treble voice). I hope I am no
guzzling, swilling knave. When my appetites grow
unruly I strive earnestly to curb them and rein
them in.
DEVIL (has got round to SARAH, whispers in her
ear). Look at that greedy old gander, your husband!
He grudges you every drop and morsel.
(Saunters back to DROGO. SARAH looks at
DROGO; DROGO scowls at her.)
SARAH. What's the matter, Drogo?
DROGO.
You're a very foul eater, Sarah!
SARAH. Turn your head another way, you greedy
old gander.
(Eats coarsely.)
DEVIL (behind DROGO, whispers). How could you
have married a woman like that, a superior man like
you?
(Saunters back to SARAH. DROGO scowls.)
DROGO. I hope there's poison in that stew!
What a waste of good victuals !
SARAH. Hold your tongue, you old winebibber!
I'm ashamed of you!
DEVIL (whispering to SARAH). How could you
have lowered yourself to marry a man like that, a
superior woman like you? (Saunters away.)
DROGO. I'll talk to you by and by, Sarah! I'll
confabulate with you!
SARAH. I'll poultice you, Drogo! I'll posset you!
I'll comfort you!
ACT II
49
THE TEMPTER
(They have risen, mocking each other and
quarrelling. By this time the Pilgrims
have risen from the tables, which are
cleared by the Attendant Fathers; some
bottles of wine are, however, left. The
Pilgrims gather in groups; the DEVIL is
amongst them. The Pilgrims are chatter-
ing together.)
THE PIL.
Last night.
I only know the anthem that I sung
DEVIL (discontentedly). Hum! Anthems!
2ND PIL.
Sing us that again.
(The Pilgrim raises his voice and begins to
sing an anthem feebly. The DEVIL
fidgets and has a fit of coughing. The
Pilgrim gets out of tune and breaks
down.)
THE PIL. (embarrassed). It does not seem so tune-
ful as 'tis wont.
Sometimes I sing it—you should hear me then!
I sing it sweetly, everybody weeps,
And begs me sing again and yet again.
DEVIL (pushes in amongst them). Good folks, I
heard a song some time ago.
I wonder if I could recall the tune-
(Humming an air; they all crowd round him,
clamouring.)
ALL. Oh, try! Please, try! Fair sir, you can
but try!
E
i
ACT II
50
THE TEMPTER
}
DEVIL (clears his voice several times). I'll do my
best, but you must help me through.
And if you find I'm breaking down, join in,
And bawl your loudest. It's a merry tune;
You'll catch it like the plague. Make ready all.
(The DEVIL sings.)
THE CASTAWAYS
A song of lost souls on their way to destruction
Pitapat! Pitapat! What legions tramp here?
Ho! Hullabaloo! Ho! Hullabaloo!
The rackety crew! The noisy mad crew!
Sing! Hullabaloo !
Jog-a-jog! Trot-a-trot! What stranger rides there?
Yell! Hullabaloo !
The white, white horse!
The pale, pale stranger!
How they rush!
How they crush!
"Good sir, there is danger!"
"No! no!"
(C
"Yes! yes!" "Come hither!"
whither?"
Hark, hollo! Come follow!
Come follow!
"Come
Come follow! Come follow!"
'Tis a noisy mad crew,
A rackety crew,
A rickety crew,
ACT II
THE TEMPTER
With their limbs all askew,
Their eyes squint untrue,
Turk, Christian, and Jew,
Their brows sweat the dew
And their cheeks wear the hue
Of the lost! Of the lost! Of the lost!
Hark, hollo!
follow!
51
Come follow! Hark, hollo! Come
Rubadub! Rubadub! Come tipple and swill!
Ho! Hullabaloo! Ho! Hullabaloo !
Come dance down the hill! Come roll down the hill!
Sing! Hullabaloo! Yell! Hullabaloo!
The mad, mad crowd!
The red, red stranger!
What a rout!
How they shout!
They laugh at their danger!
They laugh at their danger!
"Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha!"
whither?"
Hark, hollo!
“Come hither!" "Yes,
Come follow!
We follow ! We follow!
We follow !
We follow ! We follow !
(All the Pilgrims join in the chorus riotously.
At the height of the uproar the solemn
tones of the "Miserere" are heard in the
chapel. They all listen awestruck. The
!
L
}
i
+
52
ACT II
THE TEMPTER
י,
DEVIL shows anger, which grows more
furious, and at last he bursts out to them.)
Oh, you rackety crew!
You rickety crew!
You crippledy crew!
All your limbs are askew,
And your eyes squint untrue,
Turk, Christian, and Jew,
You're the sport and the spew
Of old Jove in the blue;
Your brows sweat the dew
And your cheeks wear the hue
Of the lost! Of the lost! Of the lost!
You were gotten in sin,
And suckled therein;
'Tis the breath of your kin;
'Tis the blood of your kin ;
No release shall you win,
Nor find peace within,
For your thoughts are all sin,
And your deeds are all sin,
So grin me the grin
Of the lost! Of the lost! Of the lost!
For strive as you will,
You are castaways still,
You are lost! You are lost!
1
You are lost!
Your souls are naught worth
But to cumber the earth
1 Revelation, chap. iii. verse 16.
ACT II
53
THE TEMPTER
With the lost! With the lost! With the lost!
You were damned at your birth,
So make mad with the mirth
Of the lost! Of the lost!
Of the lost!
Come follow!
Hark, hollo!
We follow ! We follow ! We follow! We follow !
(They all join gradually in the chorus, and at
the end the whole scene is one of wild
disorder and confusion. The Pilgrims
continue singing the chorus, clinking
their glasses, shouting; some of them
begin to dance. The DEVIL slinks
behind the canopy. In the midst of the
wildest uproar FATHER URBAN enters ;
at first the rioters do not see him, but as
they gradually catch sight of him, the
noise subsides and ceases.)
Peace! Peace, I say! What riotous
FATHER U.
scene is this?
Keep peace! What ails ye all? Are ye possessed?
(The noise gradually grows less.)
Silence, I say! What spirit of lewd noise
Hath broken loose?
Who led this sinful mirth?
(They all look round for the DEVIL.)
Are ye not shamed, to enter here, our guests,
And thus defile our hospitality
With foul unholy jests and evil songs?
How durst ye thus profane this sanctuary?
Who set afoot this riot?
54
ACT II
THE TEMPTER
The DEVIL comes out very sedately from behind
DEVIL.
the canopy.
Holy father,
I grieve to say that I'm the innocent cause
Of all this pother! They asked me for a song.
I gave them a sweet, simple lullaby,
A gentle trill, that suited with my mood,
But when they grew to insolent revelling
And wild licentiousness I stepped aside.
I had my character to keep.
(To the Pilgrims reprovingly.) You sang
That song too loudly. There is moderation
In everything, (drawing the meek little Pilgrim aside,
confiding to him)
Especially in sin;
He that sins moderately sins twice as long,
And twice as much, and twice as pleasantly.
(The little Pilgrim laughs a feeble, wicked
little laugh.)
FATHER U. To bed, then, all of you, and find repose.
To bed without more stir, and take good heed
I hear no further riot or disorder.
DEVIL. I'll keep an eye on them all through the
night;
But they're a stubborn crew, and if you hear
Ungodly practices and revellings
I hope you'll hold me innocent.
(The Pilgrims are all trooping out.)
ACT II
55
THE TEMPTER
FATHER U.
You keep a guard upon yourself.
DEVIL.
Take heed
I'll try,
Good father; but it suits me best to keep
A guard on other folks. (Exit after the Pilgrims.)
Enter Avis from chapel, deeply absorbed in letters
which she is reading.
FATHER U.
Still sorrowful,
My daughter?
ISOBEL enters from her room, comes downstairs.
Avis (reading letters). Very sorrowful.
Iso. (seeing AVIS reading, shows some alarm).
What tidings
Have been brought thee? Whose letters hast thou
there?
Avis. Whose could they be but his?
The PRINCE enters from the outer door. All through
the following scene he and ISOBEL listen, and show
a growing remorse, which at the end becomes un-
bearable.
His last dear words,
Writ by his own dear hand! (Kissing the letters
passionately.)
56
ACT II
THE TEMPTER
}
So gracious, true, and brave?
clasping her.)
Pray that he may be yet alive!
Was ever knight
(Going to ISOBEL,
Pray, Isobel!
Iso.
(ISOBEL shows great remorse, just glances at
PRINCE, then desperately cries out.)
God keep
Prince Leon of Auvergne where'er he be !
(Disengages herself from Avis; Avis goes to
FATHER URBAN.)
(Aside.) God keep me too! What do I say? My
heart
Gives the swift lie to my tongue.
prayers!
These useless
All's mockery! What is to come will come!
FATHER U. (to Avis). Daughter, be comforted.
AVIS (shakes her head, puts him aside). All the
day long
I whisper false hopes to myself, and say,
"He may be yet alive.
(ISOBEL and the PRINCE
He may have haply
listen, and show growing disquiet.)
Breasted the waves and found some restful shore,
Some passing ship has plucked him from the
deep,
And he'll return, all glad and hurrying,
To lift me out this pit of grief, and make me
His radiant fast-wed bride."
ACT II
57
THE TEMPTER
FATHER U.
So it may be,
And any day may bring these blessed tidings.
AVIS. No, no! For every day brings other news,
The bodies of his followers cast ashore,
Spars of his vessel, ribbons of his banners.
No, no! My Prince is dead, and I'm a widow
Ere I have been a wife.
FATHER U.
Still hope and pray.
Be not so sure,
Go, get thee to thy rest.
When night-time comes, I
Avis. I cannot rest.
toss,
And toss, and toss; the wind bemoans and wails,
The casement shakes, the minutes crawl, a bell
Dongs out and a dog barks, the long waste night
Ekes out its agony! I pray for sleep.
At last I fall into a troubled doze,
And I am struggling fiercely with the waves,
Lab'ring to drag my Prince ashore, until,
Battling and baffled, wearied, overwhelmed,
I madly throw him overboard; his face
Pale and beseeching floats upon the sea,
A dead face on the sea; no hands, no body,
No head, no substance but a dead white face
Staring and staring, moving o'er the deep,
Mounting each wave, like a dead moon, that face!
Nothing but that dead face on the wide sea.
I fight, hang over the ship's side, and try
To reach it, call, pray, shriek, and tumble oy
Sink, drown, fight, fight, and wake. And the w

58
ACT II
THE TEMPTER
PRINCE (maddened with remorse, aside). Oh, I am
false ! A recreant!
A traitor to this pure white
Where can I hide myself?
A villain !
soul that loves me !
(Seeing chapel-door open.)
God pardon me!
(Rushes into the chapel.
ISOBEL has listened
all through with growing remorse.)
Iso. (aside). And I have robbed her of her Prince!
(FATHER URBAN speaks to AVIS, who has
FATHER U.
burst into tears, and is sobbing at his
knees.)
Daughter,
This is not well. Thy mind is much distempered ;
Come, rise, and be more calm.
Avis. Does he yet live?
father,
Tell me, where is Prince Leon?
FATHER U.
This is but weakness.
If I but knew! My
In His hands
Who holds the ocean as a water-drop,
And bridles all its tempests with His nod;
Against whose strength the sea's strength is a gnat's,
And less than whisp'ring all its noise and fury;
Who holds a count of every living thing;
No tiniest moth escapes His tenderness,
Nor does one little nameless creature-speck
In the wide stretch of sea, or land, or air,
out from infinite sleep to taste of life,
er for a moment in the sun,
the compass of an infinite love,

ACT II
59
THE TEMPTER
And then return to infinite sleep again,
Without His sure decree. Thy Prince is in
His keeping. There, rest thou content to leave him.
Avis. Father, I will. I am much comforted.
(FATHER URBAN blesses her. Exit Avis.
ISOBEL comes impetuously to FATHER
URBAN.)
FATHER U. You also, daughter?
Iso.
I am sore distressed!
Did you not say there is within your walls
A holy man from Carmel, who is skilled
With soul-sick folk?
(FATHER URBAN looks at her anxiously and
inquiringly.)
I pray you do not question;
Send him to me. Pray you, my father, pray you!
(FATHER URBAN looks at her with grave
tenderness.)
FATHER U. He keeps his cell. I'll send him if
he'll come.
(FATHER URBAN goes out, taking lamp. All
the candles have gone out, and the hall is
dark, except for the flickering firelight.)
Iso. (alone). I will not do it! I'll repent and
turn.
Oh, every signpost that man's hand has raised
To show his wayward kin the road to peace
Urges me backward; all the voices cry,
"Turn, turn, and find the King's highway again."
.
60
ACT II
THE TEMPTER
And this Dictator here admonishes,
"That road you tread goes down to shame and
death.
Turn! turn! Seek her whose ways are pleasantness,
And all her paths are peace." Oh, I were mad,
To dally for a moment! I'll go back!
My woman's honour, whatsoe'er I cherish
Of blameless past, and my soul's house kept pure,
All that I hope of fair white days to come,
All that I dread in that black unknown gulf
That's fixed between my peace and my desires,
Shouts out and warns, and will not be cried down,
"Turn, turn! the finger pauses on the dial;
Thy doom hath not yet struck; 'tis life to turn,
And death to hold thy course. Choose, choose, and
turn!"
I'll hearken! I'll have done with lies! Avis !
Thy Prince doth live, and I'll restore him to thee.
(Running up to door.)
Avis, thy Prince doth live!
DEVIL.
(She meets the DEVIL, who enters as a white
friar, in robes of stainless white, cowled.
ISOBEL looks at him; a long pause.
The DEVIL keeps his cowl on.)
You sent for me.
Iso. Who art thou? Father Cyprian?
DEVIL.
The same.
Iso. (kneeling to him). My father, help me, counsel
me.
I am
ACT II
61
THE TEMPTER
Most sorely troubled and perplexed.
DEVIL.
Iso. (surprised). Thou know'st?
DEVIL.
Go on.
With love.
Vast knowledge is vouchsafed to me.
Iso. (after a pause). I know not how to tell my tale.
DEVIL. Thou hast no need. I know it well,
already.
Iso. (surprised, alarmed). What dost thou know?
All that enfolded lies
DEVIL.
Within the secretest crannies of thy soul,
More than thou durst when thou art most alone
Whisper to thy own heart. So much I know.
Iso. Thou know'st-
DEVIL.
Thy thought this moment.
Even so.
Thou art disquieted because thy love
Seems to make war upon thy faith and duty.
Iso. Seems?
DEVIL.
Heav'n.
It must be good.
Ay, only seems. Love comes from
Therefore
And whatsoever wars
Against thy love must needs be evil. Therefore,
Thy love is thy first duty, and thy duty
Must bend to serve thy love.
Iso. (much pleased).
DEVIL. Nay, but it is.
Iso.
DEVIL. Thou must.
Let thy heart hearken
Oh, if it were so!
Then I may go on loving?
Thou canst not choose.
62
ACT II
THE TEMPTER
:
:
How sweet thy life hath been since love hath come,
How full of savour and delight and purpose.
Can that which quickens all the sad dead earth,
Which tunes the blackbird's song and gilds his beak,
Which brings the dear fulfilment of its being
To every living thing, can this be evil?
No, be thou sure it is heaven-sent, heaven-blest.
These are sweet words.
Iso.
DEVIL.
Cling therefore to thy love.
It comes but once in all thy long life's journey,
But once, no more. It is thy chiefest good.
Miss it, there's nothing left beneath the sun,
All else is dross and shadow, dust and ashes.
Iso. Oh, I'll not miss it. Thou hast given me
Great comfort. My own heart led me that way.
DEVIL (aside). These women! How they listen
to their hearts!
(Aloud, going.) Is there aught else that thou wouldst
know of me?
Iso. (with great hesitation). Couldst thou—since
thou hast knowledge so profound-
Show me a little way into the future?
DEVIL. If it will minister to thy soul's good
I could lift up a corner of the veil.
Iso.
Tell me-read now my thoughts-shall this
befall
That I desire?
DEVIL.
Darkly I seem to see
Some great imperial fate and wide renown
ACT II
63
THE TEMPTER
.
Moving across thy sphere.
Iso. (elated).
Ah! Is it so!
Tell me, shall I reach it?
DEVIL. What 'tis, I know not.
Iso. (impetuously).
DEVIL. There is a way—why, sure I do not err,
Some way that thou must pass to-night.
Iso. (breathlessly).
DEVIL.
hap
To-night?
Know'st thou of such a way that by good
Would lead thee where thou fain wouldst be?
Iso.
DEVIL. Then take it quickly.
Iso.
I do.
If 'twere through sin!
Sin?
DEVIL.
Iso.
DEVIL.
What then?
Then thou must reckon up the cost,
And strike the balance. Do a little wrong
If some great good may follow. Nay, that sin,
Which should be deadly by itself, is harmless,
When a rich crop of blessings springs from it.
Say that this sin should give thee honour, rank,
Power, opportunity to do much good,
And riches to endow the Holy Church-
How easily were such a sin atoned!
How readily the Church would pardon it!
But this sin-dost thou know it?
Iso.
DEVIL.
To the pure,
All things are pure. Besides, 'twould ne'er be known.
Iso. What dost thou say?
64
ACT II
THE TEMPTER
"
DEVIL.
That never comes to light.
That's scarce a sin at all
Is that it sets a bad example.
The worst of sin
When
It's strictly covered up and nothing known,
There's not much harm in it.
surprised.)
(ISOBEL looks up
Not so much harm;
Of course, 'tis wicked. Still not very wicked.
There are degrees. Trust me, dear maid, in this.
I would not lead you wrong. And when some day
(Putting his hand affectionately above her head)
This head lifts itself high above all heads
And wears a diadem
(ISOBEL shows great pride)
You'll thank me then
For this good counsel that I gave to-night.
Iso. (swelling with pride). My father?
DEVIL.
Iso.
Well?
I'll ask thee one thing more.
Oh, 'tis the corner-stone of all the rest!
If this is not, all else is barrenness
And dust.
Will he keep faith until the end?
DEVIL. Until the very end, till thy last breath,
What time and wheresoe'er thou draw it, this man
Shall cleave to thee.
Iso.
Then all my days are locked
In a jewell❜d future with a golden key,
And every moment of my glad to-come
Flashes its beckoning fire to draw me on
My high crescendant way. Thank thee, my father,
ACT II
65
THE TEMPTER
Thank thee, and thank thee yet again! My heart's
Too full.
Good-night!
(Exit with great pride and animation.
cowl drops from the DEVIL.
watching her.)
The
He stands
DEVIL (looking down at his dress). Here is a useful
dress.
Of all the shapes I take I like this best,
For I can mouth and twist the Holy Writ,
As well as any father of the Church.
How is it such a stock of righteous maxims
Slip from my tongue, melt on my lips like oil,
To grease the slides of sin? Here comes the Prior
To lock me safely in.
(Coils himself in a large armchair whose back
is towards audience.)
Enter FATHER URBAN with keys and lamp, followed
by the Cellarer.
FATHER U. (looking round). She's gone to rest.
Poor child, she seemed in great perplexity.
I hope that she is comforted.

(Locking the outer doors.)
THE CELLARER (at guest-table, taking up bottles,
yawning).
Our guests
They spared our best.
Were riotous, but see (holding up the bottle),
FATHER U. Leave all till morning. 'Twil
till then.
F
66
ACT II
THE TEMPTER
(Exeunt FATHER URBAN and Cellarer.
The
DEVIL appears as they go out; now he is
in the soldier's dress.)
DEVIL. It's time my other dickybird was here.
I hope she won't be long.
I wish my clients wouldn't
They are so inconsid'rate.
My time is precious.
waste it so,
And at night,
When I'm so busy. Here she comes.
LETTICE enters very frightened from ISOBEL's room.
LET. Oh, sir, I've come!
DEVIL. Good wench!
LET. My mistress is fast asleep.
DEVIL.
Good wench!
LET. And here's the key of her room.
DEVIL.
Good wench!
(Producing key.)
LET. She's safe locked in.
DEVIL. Good wench! (Placing the key on table.)
Now concerning this same William Gamel-
LET. (bursts out weeping). Oh, sir, it's more than
three months since he left me.
DEVIL (sympathisingly). Ah!
LET. And he promised to come back in a week.
DEVIL (sympathisingly). Ah!
ET. And I've not heard one word of him since.
VIL. I never met a sadder case.
And such a sweet-spoken young man, too.
Ah! These sweet-spoken young men.

ACT II
67
THE TEMPTER
!
How is it they never keep their promises? Dear!
dear! dear! Well! well! well! Oh, these sweet-
spoken young men! Well, we must try and charm
the rascal back. You remember the oak-tree I showed
you as we came by?
LET. Yes, sir.
DEVIL. Go there; walk twelve times round it, say-
ing the charm I taught you. Can you say the charm?
LET. (facing to the four quarters of the compass and
then going round the DEVIL).
(C
'East, west, north, south, wherever you may be,
Turn back, false heart, turn and come to me,
DEVIL.
Turn and come again."
1
Good wench! And whistle! Don't for-
get to whistle.
When false young men leave trusting maids, whistling's
The only lure to call them back. Now go.
(Gets her off at outer door. Alone, watching
her.)
It's shameful! On my soul, if I possessed one,
Women are badly used. It's a hard fate
To be a woman. They are all born fools,
Weak, trusting, doting fools! That they should listen
To me is natural, and I'll forgive them,
For I've some tempting baits. But that they listen
To man, mere man, the greasy animal,
Is folly past belief! And yet they do.
Ah! Are you coming?
(Listening at door.)
68
ACT II
THE TEMPTER
The PRINCE enters from chapel, quiet, self-contained.
PRINCE. Good-night.
So you've been at prayers?
(Cold, curt, contemptuous. Goes up to door at
back.)
DEVIL. What! Off to roost so soon? Good-
night.
(Watching him up; the PRINCE is about to
make exit.)
Guess who has been with me just now?
PRINCE (arrested).
Well? Who?
Whom?
DEVIL. Did you not hear her talking to me?
PRINCE (comes down).
Not Isobel?
DEVIL. No. (The PRINCE turns back.)
She's (coughs) asleep. Her maid.
(The PRINCE again turns, comes down to the
DEVIL.)
PRINCE (after a struggle again turning away).
Well, what of that? What's that to me?
DEVIL (goes to outer door).
The maid's out here.
Why, nothing.
(Locks the door, comes to table.)
The mistress is alone.
(The PRINCE again comes down to DEVIL, looks
at him.
The DEVIL, taking no heed of
PRINCE, carelessly pours out the wine,
drinks, watched by the PRINCE.)
ACT II
69
THE TEMPTER
(Offering cup.) Taste that. I know their vintage here.
PRINCE (again turns away).
Good-night.
Not I.
(Going off)
DEVIL. Good-night. Did you find out her
window?
PRINCE (coming back, fiercely). And if I did, 'twas
but to swear and swear,
By all the knighthood in me, I'd ne'er wrong her.
DEVIL (looks at him). Indeed! (Drinks.) Taste
(Offering cup.)
PRINCE (pushing it aside). Hear me! I've taken
that.
counsel
With my heart. I'm fixed.
That ever I did listen to thee.
Oh, I despise myself,
Good-night.
(Going.)
DEVIL (aside). Now we have got a virtuous fit.
(Goes to him.)
I'm glad

You are resolved to be so virtuous.
I like you for it. Just as you had won her!
You're right. Put her aside. Sit down and drink.
(Sits down, takes up the key and plays with it.)
PRINCE. Why dost thou goad me so? What k
is that?
DEVIL (carelessly). What's that to do with
PRINCE.
What k
DEVIL. Her maid left it with me to
locked
Her mistress in her room while she wer
70
ACT II
THE TEMPTER
(Flings key on the table. The PRINCE looks at
it, is about to take it. The DEVIL scizes
it again. The PRINCE tries to get it.)
Sit down, you fool! Be virtuous!
(Keeping key.)
Sit down,
And drink with me, and talk philosophy.
(The DEVIL flings the key again on table. The
PRINCE sits down in ill-will, eyeing the
key.)
Taste that! These holy fathers know good wine.
(Offering cup.
deeply.)
The PRINCE takes it, drinks
Now let us talk philosophy. Heigho! (Yawns.)
I hope that silly maid will soon be back.
I promised her I'd wait, and let her in.
I'm tired. Come, help yourself to wine. Don't spare.
(The PRINCE pours out, drinks deeply.)
What were we talking? Oh, philosophy!
(Yawning, beginning to talk disjointedly as if
falling asleep, and slightly in liquor.
The PRINCE sits watching him, and
watching the key.)
Tow is it women's souls are so dirt-cheap?
rare good wine and potent too! What's this?
(Rubbing his eyes, pretending to rouse himself.)
e! I can't be drunk. I'm much too seasoned;
hough! Some more philosophy!

tue is so badly paid?
You're virtuous! At least
ACT II
71
THE TEMPTER
Just now. What ails you? You're not drinking.
(The PRINCE pours out and drinks deeply.)
Lend me a hand! I'll go to bed. Good-night.
(The DEVIL rises a little in his chair, drops
down in it again as if heavy with sleep.
The PRINCE watches him keenly.)
(Maundering.) Wine-women-virtue-bed-philo-
sophy;
All useful things, but seldom found together.
Plague on that wine!
(Drops off, snores.)
(The PRINCE gets up on tiptoe, stands over him.
The DEVILbreathes heavily. The PRINCE
takes up the key and creeps swiftly off
on tiptoe up stage, going to ISOBEL'S
door. As he is going off the outer door
is tapped. The DEVIL opens his eyes,
looks alternately at the retreating PRINCE,
and at the outer door where LETTICE is
tapping, winks alternately at each. The
PRINCE unlocks ISOBEL's door.)
LET. (without). Good sir, please let me in.
Good sir!
(The DEVIL seated comfortably, looks from one
to the other. The PRINCE enters ISOBEL'S
room and shuts door. LETTICE knocks.)
DEVIL. And then they blame me !
CURTAIN.
(A night passes.)

To start the mustam
звічай
བཞད ང ་ རྟང ང ་ ་ི ས
ACT III
SCENE-A LUXURIANT GLADE OUTSIDE THE ABBEY
WALLS
A large gaunt withered trunk, with dead gnarled
branches, in middle of stage. The abbey walls in
the distance. Early morning.
Enter PRINCE LEON.
PRINCE. She's wine, enrapturing wine! I am a
cup
Brimming with richer vintage than did e'er
An earthly summer bear to earthly sun.
Drenched and surcharged I am, yet ache and thirst
For draughts diviner and more secret still,
Th'avatar, nay, the very lees and dregs
Of very love itself! She should be here!
The fainting air pants and is sick for her
As I am! Isobel! When will she come?
Oh, she is life itself! Now may I boast
"I live!" Dead was I till her kindling lips

ACT III
73
THE TEMPTER
Drew me from earth-cold clay and made me man.
Thou art creative, Isobel, like God,
Thy breath doth quicken like His word! She's here.
Enter ISOBEL, as if in great shame, her head bowed,
her face covered with her hands; she goes to him,
hides her head in his breast. Some moments'
silence; he passes his hand very caressingly over
her head.
PRINCE (very softly). Speak to me! Look at me!
Iso. (same soft tone, almost a whisper). How shall
I dare
Ever to look upon thy face again?
(He tries to take her hands from her face;
she resists.)
No! no! First tell me
PRINCE.
Iso. (with great shame).
Tell thee what?
That I-
Am not less dear-less sacred-than I was.
PRINCE. A thousand times more dear, ten thousand
times
More sacred!
Iso. (with great entreaty, half despair). Say thou❜lt
never hold me cheap!
PRINCE. Thou rarest of rare jewels, thy price
was such
That my most utmost worth could never buy thee!
Therefore, in mercy sweet and dear compassion
74
ACT III
THE TEMPTER
Of my great need, thou lovely prodigal,
Didst give me all thyself!
Iso. (clinging to him, frightened, ashamed).
never say it!
Oh,
If but the wind should hear, the shame would kill me!
Thou'rt sure there's nothing guessed?
PRINCE. Why, who could guess?
Iso.
ne'er whisper?
I know not. Thou❜lt
PRINCE. Am I a dog that I should do this thing?
Be sure no breath of it shall e'er be known.
Iso. What do you think of me? I know you'll say
Some pretty speech; but in your heart of hearts
Speak truth! You pity me, perhaps despise me?
PRINCE. Now 'tis yourself that holds yourself so
cheap.
Iso. Oh, I am nothing worth except to thee!
Thou knowest how poor I am. I stand before thee
Beggared! I've given thee all.
PRINCE.
And dowered me
With an immeasurable sway, empires
And oceans of thy love, and the proud realm
Of all thy boundless universal self.
Iso.
You'll ne'er reproach me?
PRINCE.
Could I be so base?
Iso. If you should ever cast one word against me,
One single word of blame, or seem to hint
That I was won too soon, or by a look
Or glance, or whisper, signify that I
ACT III
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THE TEMPTER
115
Am less in your esteem henceforth for this
Than the most honoured, virtuous, proudest dame
That walks this earth, 'twould madden me, and I
Should leap to some unknown and desperate act.
PRINCE. What can I say to comfort thee? What
ails thee?
Iso. (bursting into tears). Thou knowest not what
these last hours have been,
The agony of shame and fear and guilt
That I've endured.
PRINCE (gathering her to him, sheltering her). Hide
(Comforting her.)
all within my breast.
Come, let me wrap thee in my love. Close! Close!
(Folding her tenderly in his mantle.)
Now thou art happy.
Iso.
Oh, most happy, if I
Have made thee happy! There lies all my joy.
I'm nothing in myself, but all in thee!
PRINCE. Give me some yet more dear abandonment
Of all thy gracious self.
Iso.
What can I give thee?
Oh, if I had a thousand selves, each one
A perfect woman, yet each one more fair
Than all the rest, that I might throw them down
Like rags beneath thy feet, my conqueror!
What wouldst thou more of me than all?
PRINCE.
No more.
Thou art enough. This kiss is all enough.
Holiest is sweetest and most satisfying.
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ACT III
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•
DEVIL (through the leaves behind). Here is a holy
relish after sin !
Iso. (entreatingly). Our love is sacred, is it not?
PRINCE.
It is, most sacred.
Indeed
Iso. (very anxiously). Holy Church shall bless it?
PRINCE.
Yes, yes.
Iso. (very anxiously). Nay, promise me! Thou❜lt
not forsake me.
PRINCE. If I forsake thee, may I be forsaken!
Oh, Isobel, I'm thine!
What heaven, or earth, or hell, shall bind or loose,
Or join or put asunder, shake or fix,
This shall it never do, part thee from me,
Ravish us of this immortal moment,
Shut out my soul from access to thy soul,
Eternal yoke-fellow, eternal bride,
Desired companion, sister wayfarer,
Sojourner with me, and beloved partaker
Of whatsoever strange vicissitudes
Life, death, and that great dark unknown beyond
May hold in storage for us twain to endure.
Iso. Wilt thou for ever love me so?
PRINCE.
And for ever!
For ever
(They are going off together.)
Iso. (looking up into his face murmurs). For ever
and for ever.
(He bends over her; they go off entranced
with each other.)
·
ACT III
77
THE TEMPTER
·
DEVIL (coming out of the tree, looking after them).
For ever and for ever!
What is this human love, this silly joy,
This foolish strange delight each has in each?
It needs must have some sweetness of its own.
If I could taste it! If I could but taste it!
Oh, if I could for one short passing hour
Avoid this withered mockery, this mask
Of painted dust, and wrap myself within
The bosom of humanity, take on me
Flesh's soft robe and veins of tingling blood,
The sluice of tears, the sting and pant of life,
Labour and hunger, sweat and sleep, hopes, fears,
Joys, sorrows, all their great Deliverer
Took on Him when He came to overthrow
My kingdom in this world of mine. If I
Could taste this love! If it were possible!
Vain! Vain! Shut out! The everlasting clang
Of Heaven's indomitable gates yet sounds
Behind me, and along the bottomless
Abyss rings my unchanging doom-shut out!
Shut out! shut out! (Pause.)
(Looks after them.) I cannot love like ye!
But I can hate, and I will hate, until
My hate hath struck your love to its very roots,
Riven it in twain, blasted and blackened it,
Shrivelled its blossoms, howled and roared them down
The desolating whirlwinds of my wrath!
For ever and for ever, did ye say?
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ACT III
THE TEMPTER
2
!
Ye fools! This hour I'll turn your love to gall,
Poison your thoughts, make lunatic your bloods,
That now do dance with marriageable drops,
Till they shall burn with anger, fury, hate,
Blind jealousy and murder, each 'gainst each.
(Looking towards monastery.)
Here comes one of my shuttlecocks!
Enter SIR GILBERT.
The DEVIL looks him up and
down, and then bursts into a loud fit of brutal,
contemptuous laughter.
SIR GIL. (nonplussed). I see no jest.
(The DEVIL sits, arms akimbo, and laughs
jeeringly at him.)
Well? Well?
DEVIL. Well, dogstail?
SIR GIL.
Dogstail?
DEVIL. You are in a base position, all behind.
SIR GIL.
Behind?
DEVIL. Ay, behind my dog, for he has been before
you. Behind the sport, for it's all done. Behind the
market, for the trinket is sold!
SIR GIL.
How so?
DEVIL. She has given you the go-by. She has
played you false with my stripling.
SIR GIL.
DEVIL.
When?
Last night. You snored and he stole the
Last night.
lady. Now do you see the jest?
(Laughing brutally at him.)
ACT III
79
THE TEMPTER
SIR GIL. How do you come to know?
DEVIL. They were here sugaring each other with
love-treacle and blabbed out the whole matter. I
chanced to overhear.
SIR GIL. What can I do?
DEVIL (laughing at him). Go back to bed and
snore.
SIR GIL.
cursed jade!
The jade! I'll—the minion-the
DEVIL. Use some stronger language! Come,
some good round oaths, saving my presence. Now
curse away!
SIR GIL.
Damn them!
DEVIL. Is that all? No more?
SIR GIL. If I could kill her !
DEVIL (encouragingly). Well-well
SIR GIL. Or him, or both together.
DEVIL (encouragingly). Well-well
Curse them!
SIR GIL.
DEVIL (annoyed). Oh, now we're back at mere
cursing! Hearken! Mankind have two most foolish,
fruitless habits, cursing and praying. Both are mere
wind. Now to action! Why, you poor gudgeon,
why, you poor soft-roe, do you stay wriggling and
wriggling on her hook for me to laugh at?
SIR GIL. I'll do something!
DEVIL. Ay, but what? 'Tis impossible you should
win her to your pleasure now. Then why do you let
her despise you?
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ACT III
THE TEMPTER
!
SIR GIL. She shall not despise me! What shall
I do to show her she shall not despise me?
DEVIL (with great intensity of suggestion).
Tell her
that my gentleman is boasting of her favours. (SIR
GILBERT shows pleasure.) Tell her that his tongue is
so loose that all our company know of this,—and
that, and the other!
SIR GIL. This is good. I like this.
DEVIL. Tell her that we are making merry over
her to lighten our way to Canterbury.
Tell her that
all our blackguards and serving wenches are laughing
because she hath suffered the common, everyday,
feminine misfortune.
SIR GIL. This will be a rare sweet revenge.
DEVIL. Most sweet. About it quick!
SIR GIL. I will. Where is she?
DEVIL (looking off in the direction the PRINCE and
ISOBEL have gone). She went that way with him.
(Looking off.) He hath left her. Look! She is
yonder-alone!
SIR GIL. I'll teach her to despise me!
(Going off)
DEVIL. Treat her tenderly. She is but a woman!
(Exit SIR GILBERT swiftly. Watching him.) Will
this not drive her to madness, and will she not then
be well strung for me to play my tune on? I'm
thriving here! My main business is done! This
marriage between the Prince and the Lady Avis hath
vanished clean into limbo! And when that is known,
ACT III
81
THE TEMPTER
!
how these kings will fly at each other's throats and
drown their lands in war! These kings! These
kings! How shall I breed my choicest mischief
when kings go out of fashion? I must instruct re-
publics and democracies. (Looking off, shows great
satisfaction.) Ah! Do you swallow the bait? Have
we hooked you? Does the barb stick? Does it
rankle ?
SIR GILBERT enters eagerly.
SIR GIL. I've schooled her! I've humbled her!
I've taught my proud madam to despise me. Why,
this is better sport than hawking. You should have
seen her when I laughed at her. She made as though
she would kill me! Now I'll go and tell my grooms,
and set them on to jibe her too.
DEVIL. No, no.
SIR GIL. Yes, yes.
DEVIL. No, no, that would be unkind.
SIR GIL. 'Tis no matter. I'll do it!
DEVIL. Oh, be gentle, be gentle with her, for
though she does despise you-
SIR GIL. Despise me? Hearkee, leave me alone.
Despise me! I'll not be despised!
(Exit eagerly.)
DEVIL (looks after him). Great Heaven, didst
Thou make these mannikins for Thy own jest, or for
mine?
G
!
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ACT III
THE TEMPTER
Enter ISOBEL, haggard, pale, dazed; she comes up to
the DEVIL, as if seeking to read something in his
face; he shows immense sympathy, heaves a deep
sigh-turns away.
Iso. (hard, cold, tearless voice). Why dost thou look
at me and sigh?
DEVIL.
Did I sigh? Ah!
Iso.
Did I?
(Sighs deeply.)
Why dost thou look at me?
(The DEVIL says nothing; looks at her with
great sympathy, sighs deeply, and then
turns and gathers some flowers.)
Wilt thou not tell me?
DEVIL (holding up the flowers above his head, draw-
ing them across his nostrils, watching her from behind
them). Tell thee? Tell thee what?
Iso.
DEVIL.
What thou hast heard of me.
What I have heard!
I hear the blab of men from morn till night;
One half they say is lies; the other, scandal ;
Whether 'tis true or no, I've ceased to care.
Look at these flowers.
Iso.
Thou saidst thou wast.
DEVIL.
Iso.
How sweet!
Art thou my friend?
Why ask? Thou knowest I am.
Then answer me; on thy most steadfast oath,
Hath any whisper of my name been made
Within thy hearing?
ACT III
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THE TEMPTER
DEVIL.
No-that is-no-lady;
I pray you do not ask me. I would rather
Keep out of this affair.
Iso.
Of what affair?
DEVIL (feigning great embarrassment). It is not
right of you to drive me thus
Into a corner. Let me go my way.
If there is any slander in the air,
Or lies, or calumny, or double-dealing,
At least let me keep out of it.
Iso.
Face me,
And tell me plainly what folks say of me.
DEVIL. Folks say—folks say—what matters what
they say?
If they say evil, take no heed of it.
Treat them as I do when they slander me,
Let their tongues wag and pity them.
Iso.
Nay, I'll know! (Very piteously.)
Oh, pity me! There is a lying tale
Gnawing at my fair name and honour. Yes
Or no?
DEVIL (very quickly and positively). No.
Iso.
No?
DEVIL (much less positively). No-o. (She looks
him full in the face; he turns away.)
Iso. And lied!
Have I not said No.
DEVIL (very sweetly and tenderly). It was to spare
you pain.
Beside,
1
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ACT III
THE TEMPTER
The Prince, like you, is a dear friend of mine.
Iso. The Prince!
hath he said?
DEVIL. Nothing.
Then 'tis the Prince! What
Iso. He would not. For his life he durst not!
I'll not believe it; no, I'll not believe it.
DEVIL. You're right.
heard, and keep
Your faith in him.
Iso.
Distrust whate'er you've
He cannot be so base.
DEVIL. That's what I say that's what I often
say,
Men cannot be so base—and yet—they are.
And if the Prince-but no, it cannot be
Forget it; spare yourself. Why should you face
The jeers and flouts of all our company?
Iso.
DEVIL.
Then they do jeer and flout at me?
No, no.
Indeed, I cannot think he hath betrayed you,
And to such dogs as these. Oh, it is monstrous.
He may he may have boasted of your favours-
Iso. Boasted!
DEVIL. Ay, carelessly! How he hath won you ;
But to reveal you to these common ears
Iso. (furious). Ay! ay!
DEVIL.
To speak of ravishing hidden joys,
The delicate endearments of your love,
The moments veiled and hushed, the secret kiss,
To brag of these-
ACT III
85
THE TEMPTER
Iso.
DEVIL.
What then?
Ay, ay.
Why, if he hath,
Iso. What then?
Where is he? I will kill
him!
Nay, I'll kill all of them that dared to listen.
DEVIL. Be calm!
I trust
Your honour is not lost.
Iso.
Be calm! Hope for the best.
No, 'tis not lost,
'Tis in his keeping. He shall restore it!
So he hath sworn, and he shall keep his word,
Yes, he shall keep his word, or-I'll do something.
Where be these underlings that dare to flout me!
Where be these dogs!
(Exit furiously.)
DEVIL (watching her off). From heavenliest love
to deadliest hatred is just―
(Measuring the distance with his fingers just
in front of his nose.)
Just half an inch.
(An impish Child runs on. The DEVIL shoots
his forefingers above his cap so that they
appear like horns, bows and scrapes to
the Child with great good fellowship.
The Child responds and bows and scrapes
to him.)
My chuck! My pretty chuck!
My pretty, pretty chuck!
(Making deep reverential bow.)
86
ACT III
THE TEMPTER
.
CHILD (same attitude). Good day, good sir.
DEVIL. Good daddy, you should say. I know
my own!
CHILD. I have one daddy now.
I shall have two.
DEVIL.
If I have you,
My pretty rogue, you'll need
A spiritual father by and by
To tuck your nose into the honeypot.
CHILD. I shall like that.
DEVIL.
You will.
CHILD.
Is it so sweet?
DEVIL. Ay, very sweet.
You shall smear fingers,
nose,
Cheeks, mouth, bib, tucker, all.
CHILD.
My spiritual father by and by.
Then you shall be
(A laugh heard off.
The Child looks off,
shows great glee, clapping his hands.)
They're laughing at the Lady Isobel.
Look! Look!
DEVIL. How doth she seem to relish it?
CHILD. Oh, she is growing mad.
away.
They're running after her.
She's run
What hath she done?
DEVIL. Dipped into that same honeypot. This is
The after-taste.
CHILD.
And I shall dip there too-
Smear fingers, nose, cheeks, mouth, bib, tucker, all?
DEVIL. Yes, fizgig, that you shall.
•
ACT III
THE TEMPTER
87
What sport! Oh, look,
CHILD.
Here comes her maid a-crying.
Enter LETTICE, sobbing, looking off.
(Makes a mouth at LETTICE). Boo! boo! boo!
Daddy, good-bye!
(Kisses his hand to the DEVIL, makes him a
deep bow, and runs off.)
DEVIL. Good-bye, my pretty chuck.
(Bows to the Child, turns to LETTICE.)
LETTICE (sobbing). Oh, sir! Oh, sir!
DEVIL.
Oh, sir! Oh, sir! What now?
LETTICE. They're laughing at my lady.
(A burst of scoffing laughter heard off;
LETTICE shudders.)
DEVIL (unconcernedly, looking off). So they are.
It seems her pranks are known and (turning suddenly
on LETTICE) you're afraid
That by and by they'll laugh at you.
LETTICE (sobbing).
Yes, sir.
Oh, I shall kill myself!
DEVIL (drily). Ah! So they will.
LETTICE.
DEVIL. Not you; not you! Hearkee, you little
wretch,
You're in a pretty pickle. Whistling, it seems,
Is thrown away on William Gamel. Therefore-
LETTICE (eagerly). Yes, sir
DEVIL. Since you must face the worst, make light
Of it. When folks begin to laugh at you,
88
ACT III
THE TEMPTER
}
Laugh back at them.
LETTICE.
DEVIL.
Oh, sir, I couldn't!
You can. Come, try a little laugh.
LETTICE.
DEVIL. I say you can.
Nonsense!
(Grins at her.)
I cannot.
Brazen it out. Be bold.
Fly away shame and romp a roaring life!
Come, come, you merry piece of mischief.
Laugh!
Laugh at what's done and can't be undone! Laugh!
(She laughs a little hysteric laugh, and he
encourages her by laughing with her;
she grows more hysteric.)
That's right. I like to see you happy! Laugh!
(She laughs again.)
A jolly, bouncing sinner you shall be,
I promise you.
(They laugh in chorus.)
The PRINCE enters behind them.
(Without looking round.) Ah! You are there!
Then hark
To this.
(To LETTICE.) Alas!—the Lady Isobel,
'Tis very sad that she should play these pranks,
And gull so many men. The baggage! Oh,
The baggage! Well! well! well! Say naught
about it.
Hush! hush! (Laughing.) You mustn't laugh at
her. Fie!
Fie!
LETTICE. I can't help laughing, sir, now I've begun.
ACT III
89
THE TEMPTER
DEVIL. Well, 'tis a jest, and I must laugh myself.
And so she's fooled my squire amongst the rest.
Ho! ho! Ha! ha!
LETTICE.
DEVIL.
LETTICE.
Ho! ho! Ha! ha!
Ho! ho!
Ho! ho! Ha! ha! ha! ha! ha! ha!
(Goes into a fit of laughter. The DEVIL
laughs her off, then turns to PRINCE,
stops suddenly, feigns surprise.)
DEVIL (feigning embarrassment).
You heard?
PRINCE. You spoke of Isobel.
DEVIL.
Not I.
PRINCE.
You did.
DEVIL. Not I.
PRINCE (fiercely). I say you did.
DEVIL. Well then, I did.
PRINCE. Whom hath she gulled, and what pranks
hath she played?
DEVIL. It isn't fair to tell against a woman.
You've had your frolic; now be wise. Forget her.
PRINCE. Tell me what thou didst say of her.
DEVIL.
An honourable, virtuous, high-born—
Maiden. That's all I said of her.
Say otherwise?
Dost hear?
PRINCE.
She is
Do you
Take heed thou jest no further.
DEVIL. I hear.
I hear. I have some news for you.
(The PRINCE is going.)
90
ACT III
THE TEMPTER
:
The King of France, thinking you safely drowned-
And dead—and glorified
PRINCE.
(The PRINCE stops.)
He thinks me dead?
DEVIL. Well, aren't you? If you are not dead,
where are you?
Why have you not kept faith with your betrothed?
Why have you dared to disobey your king?
Well, you being with the saints, there's naught
remains
Of interest to us surviving friends
Save this-what hath he left behind, poor soul,
And who's his heir?
PRINCE.
DEVIL.
My heir?
Your cousin Geoffrey
Claims your estate, your goods, all your possessions
And whatsoever appertains.
PRINCE.
You this?
How know
DEVIL. A herald hath arrived from France.
PRINCE. From France?
DEVIL (nods).
He's closeted with Lady Avis,
And now they're howling over your demise.
(The PRINCE paces about in great perplexity,
the DEVIL jeers.)
My dear young friend, you're in a plaguy mess.
You have behaved abominably. What's worse,
You're like to be found out. What's worse again,
You're like to meet with punishment.
ACT III
91
THE TEMPTER
PRINCE.
How so?
DEVIL. When English Edward finds you have
despised
His favourite god-daughter, and slighted her
For Isobel, the daughter of his foe,
Broken your knightly word, refused the marriage
Which he and France had solemnly decreed,
I fear the world will not wag gaily with you.
PRINCE (turning furiously on him). 'Twas you
that led me into this.
DEVIL.
I led you?
PRINCE. Ay, thou! False guide! False friend!
Insidious rogue!
DEVIL. Heyday! Heyday!
PRINCE (enraged, going to him furiously.
The
DEVIL remains still, with a mocking smile).
Why hast thou fastened round me,
Hung on my steps, played on me, dodged and
spied,
Raked out my heart, filched its recessed secrets?
Who art thou? As I look I seem to see
Under that smile some carrion-mauling vulture,
Or stealthy jackal smelling after evil
In my infested blood. What is it makes me
So weak, that hating thee as I do hate thee,
With all my being's bent and force, I yet
Allow thy presence, listen to thy counsel,
Suck in the rancour of thy venomous breath,
And all against my will do traffic with thee!
92
AC T
THE TEMPTER
I'll end it! Leave me! By Heaven, I'll end it!
Away with thee! Begone from me!
DEVIL.
(Fiercely, quite close to the DEVIL, who stands
still, smiling.)
I wish you joy of Lady Isobel.
I'm going. (Going.)
PRINCE. Why, yes, I will have joy of her. That word
Restores me to myself. Perish my name,
My hopes, my pride, all that I was and had;
Let me be dead. I live alone to her;
There is no other chance, no other grace,
Wisdom or glory, prize of love or war,
Ambition high, or coveted renown,
Save this, that she is mine, mine, mine!
DEVIL (pauses, looks at him contemptuously). You
fool!
She's yours, yours, yours-why, yes, I know she's yours,
But whose she has been, I don't know. And whose
She will or won't be-that-well, that—God knows.
(Going.)
PRINCE. Stay, thou detested liar, make thy words
good,
Prove what thou say'st.
DEVIL.
I had it from her maid,
The simplest wench. You heard her laughing with me.
She told me all her lady's tricks, and how
She cunningly hath known you all the while
To be the prince, and cunningly hath laid
Her plans to trap you, and supplant her cousin Avis!
ACT III
93
THE TEMPTER
PRINCE. 'Tis false! Thou liest! I say 'tis lies,
'Tis hellish lies-(pausing)—or yet more hellish truth;
'Tis lies! Prove it, I say.
DEVIL.
Prove it yourself.
Here comes the lady. Take her without her guard!
Ask her this one plain question, if she knows
That you are Leon of Auvergne.
Ask her,
And God be with you for a simple fool!
You are the greenest greenhorn I have met!
Ask her. (With great contempt.) You fool! you
fool! She's false, she's false!
ISOBEL enters, infuriated; she comes up with furious
anger to the PRINCE.
They stand confronting
each other for a moment. The DEVIL smiles and
exit.
Iso. Ah, thou art here! 'Tis well. Now answer
me;
If there is any spark of knighthood in thee,
Let it now show itself! Make revocation
Of all thy dastard calumnies of me!
Then rid me of these gadflies here that sting me
With poison from thy lips. They say—they say-
(Stops speechless..)
Rid me of them, I say. If thou'rt a knight,
Now do me justice. Dost thou hear me?
PRINCE.
Iso. Then answer me.
Ay.
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ACT III
THE TEMPTER
(PRINCE suddenly seizes her hands, looks close
into her eyes.)
PRINCE.
Woman, thou knowest me.
Thou knowest I am Leon of Auvergne.
Iso. (taken by surprise, falters). And if I do?
PRINCE. Ah! then thou dost! And thou
Hast known me all the while, and cunningly
Hast laid thy plans to trap me, and supplant
Thy cousin.
I laid plans to trap thee!
Iso.
PRINCE.
Deny it !
Iso.
Ay !
I'll not stoop to clear myself.
Believe whate'er thou wilt.
DEVIL (whispering through the leaves). She's false !
She's false !
PRINCE. Thou'rt false! Thou'rt false ! Thou
hast deceived me!
Iso. And thou hast slandered me, given up my
name
To common rumour.
Now do justice to me.
PRINCE. Do justice to thyself. Thou hast deceived
me!
Thou stand'st revealed!
Iso. (with a great cry). Revealed! Ay, so I am!
Revealed to shame, a common byword made
By thee! By thee!
PRINCE.
Iso. (frenzied).
What dost thou say?
My shame
ACT III
95
THE TEMPTER
Is noised about! The wenches and the grooms
Are making sport with me, laughing, laughing
That I have played away myself to thee.
Dear Christ, I make a merry spectacle!
Avenge me! Make amends! Thy word! Thy word!
Take off my shame. Own me before the world!
PRINCE (is turning away on his heel). I've done
with thee.
DEVIL (whispering through the leaves). Thy dagger's
at thy belt.
Iso. (hand on dagger, following the PRINCE). So
thou hast done with me?
PRINCE.
I've done with thee.
DEVIL (behind her, whispering through the leaves).
Then kill him! Kill him!
Iso. (snatching the dagger from her belt). Thou
hast done with me?
No, thou hast not! Not yet, nor yet, nor yet!
(Stabbing him again and again and again.
The PRINCE falls. ISOBEL stands
paralysed, the dagger uplifted in her
hand-pause the dagger falls-she
stands as if in a trance.)
(Muttering.) It is not true-it was not I-No! No!
PRINCE. See!
Iso.
Thou hast killed me !
Thou didst urge me to it.
Why didst thou make my love a mockery,
And give me o'er to laughter of this rabble?
PRINCE. I never did. As I'm a dying man,
1
.
ACT III
96
THE TEMPTER
Heaven knows thy love hath been most sacred to
me.
Iso. (frantic). Then what am I? What have I
done?
(Suddenly flings herself on him in a tempest
of remorse and tenderness.)
Ah! Thou art bleeding!
Help! Help!
(Tears off her robes to stanch the wounds.
The Pilgrims' song is heard coming
nearer and nearer from the abbey.)
Speak, my dear lord! Help!
(Stanching the wounds.) Oh, those cruel wounds!
Will they not stop? Help! Help!
Thou dost not think 'twas I! Never say that!
I that do love thee more than my own life!
Help! Help! Will no one come?
(The Pilgrims enter from abbey singing their
song, headed by FATHER URBAN.)
My father, look!
(FATHER URBAN hushes the Pilgrims; the song
ceases; FATHER URBAN bends over the
PRINCE to examine the wounds; other
Pilgrims, monastery Attendants, and
country folk gradually enter and crowd
round the PRINCE.)
(To FATHER URBAN, as he examines the PRINCE.)
Bring him to some physician! Haste! He'll
live!
ACT III
97
THE TEMPTER
Say that he shall not die ! Why, 'tis not much!
He'll live! He'll live! Say that he shall not die!
Enter Avis; comes up to the wounded PRINCE.
FATHER U. (having examined the wounds). These
wounds are unto death. Bear him within.
PRINCE. NO! No! Take me with ye to Canter-
bury.
I shall not die till ye have brought me there.
At Canterbury I was to be wed,
There let me make my peace and die. Dost hear?
To Canterbury! I do command ye!
FATHER U. Thou dost command! Nay, know
thy place, my son.
PRINCE (imperiously). I do command.
FATHER U.
Who art thou?
PRINCE (his eyes rest on Avis; he shows shame).
I am Leon
Of Auvergne.
Avis. My Prince! My promised one! My love!
My promised husband!
FATHER U.
Daughter, give place to us!
(To the bearers.) Take him where we may dress his
wounds, and then
We'll bear him to the holy martyr's shrine.
(They take him up and bear him off.)
AVIS (to ISOBEL). Who hath done this?
Iso.
H
I did it with this hand.
98
ACT III
THE TEMPTER
I
L
Avis. Thou? 'Twas thou?
Iso.
Ay, I.
(Goes off after PRINCE; the Attendants and
Pilgrims gradually file off in procession.)
My father, heal him!
(Voice heard off.)
He shall not die! I say he shall not die!
Heal him!
He'll live! He'll live!
(Her shrieks are heard off; the Pilgrims and
Attendants have filed off. Avis has
sunk down on the ground, sobbing; Avis
rises and staggers off after the procession,
sobbing. As she goes off the DEVIL
comes out of the tree and dances off at
the end of the procession, Avis's sobs and
ISOBEL's shrieks being heard the while.)
CURTAIN.
.
ACT IV
SCENE-PORCH AND TOWER OF CANTERBURY
CATHEDRAL
Night. Moonlight. The porch and tower occupy back
and left of stage, and make all that side dark, giving
a view of Canterbury by moonlight at back on the
right and all along the right above the cloister wall.
Statuary in the dark niches in the porch. Discover
the DEVIL, hanging on the tower towards the top.
Clambering down, he surveys the city.
DEVIL. Canterbury! Canterbury! My city!
My ancient, guzzling, brawling, thieving, cursing,
Lying, lousy, stenchy, bawdy city!
My grace and greeting to you.
(Takes off cap, salutes the city. Jumps on a
gurgoyle that stretches out from the
tower, sits astride it, his legs dangling,
surveying the city.)
Hail, old city!
Why, what's amiss? Strike up that riot yonder!
}
100
ACT IV
THE TEMPTER
Begin it! quick! quick! quick! (Beating the gurgoyle
in impatience.)
Now, mademoiselle!
That toy French maidenhood of yours, so please you!
Deliver it! No screams! Then gag her, gag her!
My jolly cut-throat, wait your man-he comes!
That's a good stab! Into the ditch with him!
There let him fester! Ah! (Laughing, hugging the
gurgoyle.)
Now all good thieves,
Drunkards and harlots, all night's chosen children,
Bestir yourselves, dear cronies, life is short,
And sin is sweet! Be at it while ye may.
Now all you filthy breeding sinners, quicken
And procreate moonstricken idiots,
Thieves, sots, and liars! In your own images
Fashion your brutish progeny! You sloths
And swinish gluttons with bloat carcasses,
Wallow and grunt in your own bellies' turmoil!
Trot out, my little rats, sting fleas and gnats,
Soft lecherous cats creep all about the lanes,
Flit skinny bats, howl mangy dogs, hoot owls,
Fat toadstools push and spawn!
Prim, rakelean, bloodless moon!
Tuck your squint modesty behind
(Looking up at moon.)
You're looking on!
Ashamed of us?
a cloud;
Or harkee, rank old virgin- (Beckoning the moon.)
Stoop and wink
qur obscenity. See all this city
anj
ACT IV
ΙΟΙ
THE TEMPTER
Stew, swarm, and sweat, and suffocate in sin,
To cocker up big Belzebub and me!
(Laughing and squealing, hugging the gurgoyle;
suddenly stops, listens, jumps on the
gurgoyle, stands upright on it, looks out
-fiercely taunting.)
You're coming then! Jog up his parting soul!
Smuggle him into church before he dies!
I've earwigged all these monks and drugged them deep;
You'll find them hard to wake. Now come, sweet
Prince,
Find this last refuge barred against thy soul!
Dash her vain wing-beats at the ark's shut door,
No hand shall open it to save thee, no
Deliverer appear! Beat, beat, and flutter!
Beat and drop
Into th' unfathomable night below!
I wait for thee !
(Passes into the shadow of the buttresses.)
ISOBEL enters very hurriedly, panting, worn, desperate.
Iso. (calling off). Speed ye! In God's name,
speed!
At last, assuaging sanctuary, we gain
Thy sheltering doors.
(Knocking at porch. The PRINCE is brought
on by bearers on a litter, FATHER URBAN
and Avis following.)
#
102
ACT IV
THE TEMPTER
ཟ
(Knocking.) Hear ye! (Knocking.) Are ye asleep
Or dead! (Knocking.)
FATHER U. 'Tis strange. They keep a strict
night watch.
The abbot's rooms are on the eastern side,
I'll see if aught is stirring there.
(Exit.)
PRINCE (groans, and feebly rouses himself). I'm
dying!
Pray them to let me in before my soul
Has sped.
Iso. (to attendants). Go ye around the church,
search out
The other doors, get entrance where you can,
And bring the holy fathers to us here!
(Exeunt the bearers. Avis, who has been
standing apart all the while, approaches
the litter tenderly. ISOBEL places herself
in front of AVIS and stops her approach
to the PRINCE.)
Avis. Wilt thou not let me come to him?
Iso.
Not thou!
I've stolen him from thee! Leave him to me! He's
mine,-
Mine by the treachery wherewith I won him !
Mine by the woman's pearl I gave to him!
Mine by the murder that I did on him !
Mine by the undying love I bear to him!
He's mine!
him!
Give him to me! I'm greedy of
ACT IV
103
THE TEMPTER
Avis.
Thou lovest him! But I have loved
him too,
Most dearly! He is my promised bridegroom.
Iso. But he hath made his nest with me, not
like
The halcyon on the summer calm. Our souls
Were like two birds that should have homed apart,
But caught by winds, the tempest mated us,
And we are blown hither and thither, baffled,
Together across outrageous oceans,
And vexed, unvoyageable, ruining gulfs;
Here we have made our nest; on these wild seas
We rock and whirl to our despairing end.
Leave him to me.
(Avis makes a motion to the PRINCE.)
PRINCE (to ISOBEL). Nay, let her come.
(Avis approaches the PRINCE.)
Forgiveness froin her. I have deeply wronged
Thy pure and faithful love.
AVIS (bending over him).
Oh, I forgive you both!
I'd ask
(AVIS goes to him.)
Canst thou forgive me?
With my heart's truth!
And now I know thou lovest her, not me,
I will not come between you. Yet since I
Have forfeited therein all earthly hopes,
And I shall never now be wife or mother,
(To ISOBEL.) Let me once kiss him! Then I'll give
him up
104
ACT IV
THE TEMPTER
To thee. (She bends and kisses the PRINCE. To ISObel.)
Iso.
He's thine.
(Goes off away from the church. ISOBEL
goes to the PRINCE.)
How dost thou now, beloved?
Look! 'twas this hand
PRINCE. Far wasted, drained of life!
Iso.
That killed thee!
PRINCE (takes her hand and kisses it tenderly).
Hush! Thou wast beside thyself.
Thou knowest well that I did ne'er betray
The wrapt inviolate secret of our love.
Iso. Thou knowest, too, that I am clear of guile
Towards thee, save this, I knew thee for the Prince;
I'm blameless else.
PRINCE.
How did I ever doubt thee?
Iso. Oh! we have gone astray in this dim world!
(The PRINCE shows pain.)
My love, thou art so young! Thou shalt not die!
Hark thee, my dear! Most wondrous miracles
Are here accomplished, and death-bitten folk
Redeemed to life, plucked from the very grave!
DEVIL (voice amongst the shadows). Ever they ask
for miracles and signs;
Ever their God denies to work them one.
PRINCE. I shall not live. Bring me where I may kiss
The murdered saint's most dear remains and thence
Draw sacramental grace into my soul,
That I may pass before my God in peace.
ACT IV
105
THE TEMPTER
Iso. No! I will pierce the Heaven with cries!
I'll drag
His life!
Dear mercy down!
(Cries out in an agony of despair.)
Give me his life!
I will not be denied.
(Stands with arms upraised, lifted to Heaven
—long pause—silence.)
DEVIL (in the shadows). There is none hears thee.
None has regard to thee! Thy God is dead!
(Long pause-silence. Her arms drop in
despair. The PRINCE tosses and groans
in agony.)
Iso. Thou art in pain!
PRINCE.
In deadly pain and thirst.
Give me some drink. (Groaning.) Water, for mercy's
sake;
Fetch me some drink.
Iso.
I know not where to look.
(Exit.)
Wait thee a moment and I will be back.
PRINCE (stirs on his litter, sits up). God's mother!
Hear! My soul will not depart
Till she is cleansed.
(Jumps up delirious.)
Ye shall not keep me out.
(Getting off his litter, runs staggering against
the church door, butts against it, drops,
rolls on the steps. The DEVIL, in the
likeness of one of the statues, bends over
him from a niche just above where he
has fallen.)
тоб
ACT IV
THE TEMPTER
DEVIL.
Drop there, like rotten apple, on the
threshold;
Drop there, thou morsel for my stomaching.
PRINCE. Mercy, dear martyr! Help!
DEVIL (bending over him).
He hath no power!
The virtue hath gone out of him. His bones
Are playthings, and his church a roost for bats!
PRINCE. Forgive my trespasses!
DEVIL.
!
Recall them all!
Let every wrong that thou hast done through life
Against thy God, thy neighbour, and thyself,
Now dance and riot in thy memory!
The brave men thou hast killed-
PRINCE.
It was in battle.
DEVIL. Their widows and their orphans shriek at
thee!
Hark! Hark!
PRINCE (tossing in agony).
Take them away!
Take them away!
DEVIL. Remember these last weeks of sin, thy
nights
Of drunken folly, thy pure bride betrayed.
PRINCE. No more! No more!
DEVIL.
Behold thy past! Let all
Its dark forgotten caverns blaze like noon;
See all thy million little sins come skipping
To ding thee to perdition! Toss! curse! cry!
PRINCE. Mercy! Sweet Heaven!
DEVIL.
Louder.
ACT IV
107
THE TEMPTER
PRINCE.
Save me!
DEVIL.
Again!
(Pause.)
Hast done? Then die! die! die! Die unabsolved,
And kick and pommel at Heaven's door till doom.
(Withdraws into the shade of the niche.)
Re-enter ISOBEL.
PRINCE (shrieks).
Mercy! (Stares round.) My
Thou wilt not leave me !
love, 'tis thou! (Clinging to her.)
I have dreamed terrible things. 'Tis thou, my love?
(Looking at her very peacefully, clinging to
her.)
Iso. 'Tis I. (Helping him on to the litter.)
PRINCE. My soul is in calm water now;
The bitterness of death is past. 'Tis thou!
(Smiles at her very peacefully; drops back as
if asleep; she bends over him. The
DEVIL stands behind her; laughs mock-
ingly.)
Iso. What dost thou here?
(The DEVIL laughs.)
Why dost thou laugh at me?
Thou seest we are desperate! Thou hast
Some strange and subtle power; what 'tis I know not.
I
pray
thee use it now for our sore need.
(The DEVIL laughs.)
By our great misery, by sweet mercy's self,
108
ACT IV
THE TEMPTER
•
I do conjure thee, pity us and help us.
(The DEVIL laughs.)
Thou mockest me! (The DEVIL laughs. Springing
close to the DEVIL.) Why dost thou look at me
So mockingly triumphant; and dost glow
Resplendent and majestic and enlarged,
As though some evil spirit in thy breast
Swell'd thee to wear the diadem of darkness
And sov'reignty of the dread Prince himself.
Who art thou? (Quite close to him, she falls back
shrieking.) Thou!
DEVIL.
Ay, I. Thou measurest me!
Iso. Then we are lost. We've diced away our souls
To th' infernal trafficker. Lost! Lost! Lost!
DEVIL. Vain is remorse, as vain as love, as vain
As truth or lies, as vain as life itself,
As vain as all the rest. All's idle show.
Ye grope and agonize in this blind void,
Like babes that perish in the womb. Ye never
Visit the light or come to any knowledge.
If one of you perchance doth stumble forth
From your primeval caves where ye do clot
With brutes in ignorance, he drifts alone,
Without a compass, on night seas of doubt,
Where Heaven hangs lying beacons and false lights
To tempt his soul on havocking rocks. There I
Do wait for him. There I do make my prey.
Fools! Blind fools! Poor silly,
Iso. Fools!
hapless fools!
ACT IV
109
THE TEMPTER
Sold to the destroyer! Cheated of all!
Cut down in blossoming time. Beggared in spring!
DEVIL. Shed seas of tears; weep till thy heart-
strings crack!
Pour forth thy blood and agony like water!
All is of no avail.
His soul is passing.
Make way for me.
Come, end these whines.
(Approaching the PRINCE.)
Give my hate its fill.
His place is ready for him.
Iso. (placing herself in front of the PRINCE). Thou
shalt not part me from him.
DEVIL (advancing, menacing).
Nay, I will.
Iso. Thou shalt not part me from him.
DEVIL (advancing, menacing.)
Stand aside !
I say
Give way to me! His soul is mine!
Iso.
Thou shalt not part me from him. Spill on us twain
Strange vengeances more fierce than flesh can bear;
Sheet us in fire plunge us in boiling pitch:
Rain on us cold accursed rain: bind us
In everlasting ice: goad us with hornets :
Seal us in sepulchres: drown us in lakes
Of blood: dash us on rocks: do what thou wilt,
Our love doth laugh at thee!
(Takes the dagger from her side, stabs her-
self with it; stands laughing at the
DEVIL, then falls on the litter beside the
PRINCE.)
DEVIL (bending over them). So be it, then.
I10
ACT IV
THE TEMPTER
Come both with me, and be for ever tossed,
Frustrate and devious, on tormenting winds.
With them whose deathless love, invincible,
Bought them a place in hell for ever safe
From Heaven's delights and malice. Mate ye like
them
Inseparable, locked from doom to doom
In one last timeless, measureless embrace.
Iso. (very softly and wooingly to the PRINCE). 'Tis
I, my love. Dost thou not hear me? Leon!
PRINCE (wandering, looking round very calm and
happy). What road is this?
Iso.
It is the road to nowhither.
I know not, dear. I think
PRINCE.
'Tis bright
And pleasant.
Iso.
Ay, in thy dear company.
Thou'rt happy now?
(Softly caressing him.)
PRINCE (imploringly stretches out his arms to the
church). Will ye not let me in?
Iso.
Hush thee! I'm thine! Let that content
thee! Rest thee!
Make calm thy unconquerable soul, my love,
For here's no thing beyond our strength to bear;
It is a child that fears the dark. Hush! Hush!
(Caressing him with the utmost tenderness.)
PRINCE (imploringly to the church). Will ye not
let me in?
(Sinks.)
(The doors of the cathedral are opened.
ACT IV
III
THE TEMPTER
DEVIL.
FATHER URBAN appears with bearers
and priests.)
What, Mother Church!
Good Mother Church! Will you take in this pair?
FATHER U. Is the Prince yet alive? Why, what
is this?
Both slain?
Iso.
I loved him and I killed him. So
Have I served myself.
FATHER U.
What hast thou done?
Iso.
O wretched lady!
Bear them within.
(The litter is taken up.)
My father,
Canst thou yet pardon us? Is there yet hope
For us beyond?
FATHER U. Her bosom is so wide,
Her heart so bountiful, her love so deep,
That doth receive you now, that she, be sure,
Will ne'er cast out one soul that doth but say
"I've sinned, but I repent me." To all such
Her answer is "Enter and make your peace."
(The litter is borne in within the church; the
church doors are left open. The DEVIL
comes out of the shadows.)
DEVIL (shouts in at the church doors). Why, take
them in. You're welcome. Plaster their sins
With holy oil. Physic them up for Heaven!
Mumble and drone them into Paradise,
And bury them. Build effigies and shrines
112
ACT IV
THE TEMPTER
+
Over the mouldering worms'-feast.
Take them!
Take them! (Comes away from the doors.)
And Thou, work out Thy cunning, aimless scheme;
Spin round Thy maddening maze of foolish worlds
Eternally, like drunken dervishes,
All to no end, save that it is Thy whim.
Let restless matter dance round restless matter,
Till long-drawn impotent space and time rebel
And sicken at their own sterility.
Hide Thou Thy childish secret! Make no sign!
Give Thou no hint wherefore Thou hast designed
This deftly dovetailed chaos of creation
To issues of stupendous nothingness!
Let darkened mankind grope in misery,
And Thou be silent! Keep them blind! But give
Full play and scope to my devouring hate
Of all their race. For though my hate is vain
And futile, as all else that Thou hast made,
Yet I do hate, since 'tis Thy will or whim!
Now set ye kings to work and ply red war!
Famine and hunger inappeasable
March over these fair lands and gnaw them bare,
Till frenzied mothers kill and eat their babes!
Breathe thick on every wind black pestilence,
And taint the universal earth! I see
A merry, busy harvest-time, a crop
Of death and ruin waving ruddy ripe
For me to put my sickle in and garner!
(Vanishes.)
ACT IV
113
THE TEMPTER
(Pause, music. The first streaks of dawn
appear in the sky, and the Pilgrims creep
in one by one in the twilight and enter
the cathedral; at length the full spring
dawn spreads over the scene, and shows
all the trees of the cloister garden in full
blossom. Avis comes in right, FATHER
URBAN enters from cathedral.)
Avis (eagerly). How doth my cousin now?
FATHER U.
At peace.
Avis.
The Prince?
FATHER U. At peace.
(Avis bursts into tears.)
(Sheltering her
Be thou at peace, my daughter, too.
in his arms.)
For know, all evil and all wrong that men
Endure or do, all misery, all despair,
All pangs, all conflicts, all that hurts us here,
Are but as pebbles thrown into a pond,
That make a ripple, then are seen no more.
So it is with the evil that men fling
Upon th' unfathomed ocean of God's love.
And the smooth water doth not sooner close
Over a pebble with its returning calm
Than Heaven's forgiveness drowns and hides man's
sin.
(A burst of music from the church.)
CURTAIN.
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