The Poems of Emma Lazarus - LightNovelsOnl.com
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PRIOR.
Heart-cleft by his dear offspring's shame, he prays Your reason be restored, your wayward sense Renew its due allegiance. For his son He, the good parent, weeps--hot drops of gall, Wrung from a spirit seldom eased by tears.
But for his honor p.r.i.c.ked, the Landgrave takes More just and general vengeance.
PRINCE WILLIAM.
In the name of G.o.d, What has he done to HER?
PRIOR.
Naught, naught,--as yet.
Sweet Prince, be calm; you leap like flax to flame.
You nest within your heart a c.o.c.katrice, Pluck it from out your bosom and breathe pure Of the filthy egg. The Landgrave brooks no more The abomination that infects his town.
The Jews of Nordhausen are doomed.
PRINCE WILLIAM.
Alack!
Who and how many of that harmless tribe, Those meek and pious men, have been elected To glut with innocent blood the oppressor's wrath?
PRIOR.
Who should go free where equal guilt is shared?
Frederick is just--they perish all at once, Generous moreover--for in their mode of death He grants them choice.
PRINCE WILLIAM.
My father had not lost The human semblance when I saw him last.
Nor can he be divorced in this short s.p.a.ce From his shrewd wit. How shall he make provision For the vast widowed, orphaned host this deed Burdens the state withal?
PRIOR.
Oh excellent!
This is the crown of folly, topping all!
Forgive me, Prince, when I gain breath to point Your comic blunder, you will laugh with me.
Patience--I'll draw my chin as long as yours.
Well, 't was my fault--one should be accurate-- Jews, said I? when I meant Jews, Jewesses, And Jewlings! all betwixt the age Of twenty-four hours, and of five score years.
Of either s.e.x, of every known degree, All the contaminating vermin purged With one clean, searching blast of wholesome fire.
PRINCE WILLIAM.
O Christ, disgraced, insulted! Horrible man, Remembered be your laugh in lowest h.e.l.l, Dragging you to the nether pit! Forgive me; You are my friend--take me from here--unbolt Those iron doors--I'll crawl upon my knees Unto my father--I have much to tell him.
For but the freedom of one hour, sweet Prior, I'll brim the vessels of the Church with gold.
PRIOR.
Boy! your bribes touch not, nor your curses shake The minister of Christ. Yet I will bear Your message to the Landgrave.
PRINCE WILLIAM.
Whet your tongue Keen as the archangel's blade of truth--your voice Be as G.o.d's thunder, and your heart one blaze-- Then can you speak my cause. With me, it needs No plausive gift; the smitten head, stopped throat, Blind eyes and silent suppliance of sorrow Persuade beyond all eloquence. Great G.o.d!
Here while I rage and beat against my bars, The infernal f.a.gots may be stacked for her, The h.e.l.l-spark kindled. Go to him, dear Prior, Speak to him gently, be not too much moved, 'Neath its rude case you had ever a soft heart, And he is stirred by mildness more than pa.s.sion.
Recall to him her round, clear, ardent eyes, The shower of suns.h.i.+ne that's her hair, the sheen Of the cream-white flesh--shall these things serve as fuel?
Tell him that when she heard once he was wounded, And how he bled and anguished; at the tale She wept for pity.
PRIOR.
If her love be true She will adore her lover's G.o.d, embrace The faith that marries you in life and death.
This promise with the Landgrave would prevail More than all sobs and pleadings.
PRINCE WILLIAM.
Save her, save her!
If any promise, vow, or oath can serve.
Oh trusting, tranquil Susskind, who estopped Your ears forewarned, bandaged your visioned eyes, To woo destruction! Stay! did he not speak Of amulet or talisman? These horrors Have crowded out my wits. Yea, the gold casket!
What fixed serenity beamed from his brow, Laying the precious box within my hands!
[He brings from the shelf the casket, and hands it to the Prior.]
Deliver this unto the Prince my father, Nor lose one vital moment. What it holds, I guess not--but my light heart whispers me The jewel safety's locked beneath its lid.
PRIOR.
First I must foil such devil's tricks as lurk In its gem-crusted cabinet.
PRINCE WILLIAM.
Away!
Deliverance posts on your return. I feel it.
For your much comfort thanks. Good-night.
PRIOR.
Good-night.
[Exit.]
ACT III.
A cell in the Wartburg Monastery. Enter PRIOR PEPPERCORN with the casket.
PRIOR.
So! Glittering sh.e.l.l where doubtless s.h.i.+nes concealed An orient treasure fit to bribe a king, Ransom a prince and buy him for a son.
I have baptized thee now before the altar, Effaced the Jew's contaminating touch, And I am free to claim the Church's t.i.the From thy receptacle.
[He is about to unlock the casket, when enters Lay-Brother, and he hastily conceals it.]
LAY-BROTHER.
