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THE   MEDIEVAL 
THE  GENERAL 


LIBRARY   UNDER 
EDITORSHIP  OF 


SIR  ISRAEL  GOLLANCZ,  Litt.D.,F.B.A. 


The  works  consulted  include  the  following  : 

Hrotsvitkce  Opera  :  Edited  by  Paul  Winterfeld. 
Hrotsvitha  Opera  :  Edited  by  H.  L.  Schurzfleisch. 
Hrotsvithce  Opera  :    Edited  by  Conrad  Celtes  (Niirn- 

berg,  1 501). 
Patrologice  Cursus  Completus  :  J.  P.  Migne  (vol.  137). 
Abraham  :    Translated  into  French  by  C.  Cuzin,  with 

critical  preface. 
Thkatre  de  Roswitha  :  Charles  Magnin. 
Origines  du  theatre  Moderne  :  Charles  Magnin. 
Antiquitates  Ganderskeimensis  :  Leuckfeld. 
Six  Medieval  Women  :  Alice  Kemp  Welch. 


I  am  much  indebted  to  Dame  Laurentia  McLachlan, 
O.S.B.,  Superioress  of  Stanbrook  Abbey,  and  to  the 
Reverend  Paul  Bonnet  of  Lyons  University,  for  assistance 
in  the  work  of  translation. — Christopher  St.  John. 

Note. — These  versions   of  Roswitha's   plays  may  not 
be  acted  without  permission  of  the  translator. 


THE  PLAYS  OF  ROSWITHA 


ROSWITHA  PRESENTING  HER  PANEGYRIC  OF  OTHO  THE  GREAT  TO  OTHO  II  IN 
ROSW  THE  PRESENCE  OF  THE  ABBESS  GERBERG. 

From  the  woodcut  by  Durer. 


' 


s> 


THE   PLAYS  OF 

ROSWITHA     TRANSLATED 

BY    CHRISTOPHER    ST.    JOHN 

WITH  AN  INTRODUCTION  BY  CARDINAL 
GASQUET  AND  A  CRITICAL  PREFACE  BY 
THE   TRANSLATOR 


CHATTO  &  WINDUS  :   LONDON 

1923 


PRINTED  IN  ENGLAND  AT  THE  BALLANTYNE  PRESS 

SPOTTISWOODE,  BALLANTYNE  &  CO.  LTD. 

COLCHESTER,  LONDON  &   ETON 


ALL  RIGHTS 
RESERVED 


INTRODUCTION 

By  HIS  EMINENCE  CARDINAL  GASQUET 

Whatever  may  be  thought  of  the  precise  merits  of 
these  six  short  dramas,  now  translated  into  English  for 
the  first  time,*  it  will  be  conceded  that  a  collection  of 
plays  bearing  the  date  of  the  ioth  century,  authenticated 
as  the  work  of  a  woman,  and  a  nun,  is  a  remarkable 
phenomenon,  interesting  to  students  of  monasticism  and 
of  the  drama  alike. 

At  one  time,  it  is  interesting  to  note,  it  was  suggested 
that  the  author  of  these  dramas  was  an  Englishwoman. 
In  fact,  the  English  scholar,  Laurence  Humfrey,  who 
first  introduced  them  to  notice  in  this  country, 
endeavoured  to  prove  that  Roswitha  was  no  other  than 
St.  Hilda  of  Northumbria.  His  theory  cannot,  of 
course,  be  maintained  ;  but  the  very  anxiety  shown  to 
identify  this  talented  poetess  and  dramatist  as  a  native 
of  this  country  is  evidence  of  the  high  estimation  in 
which  her  compositions  were  held  in  the  16th  century, 

*  Since  this  was  written, ^an  English  translation  of  one 
of  the  plays,  Abraham,  has  been  issued  by  a  private  press. 


viii  THE  PLAYS  OF  ROSWITHA 

the  time  when  Laurence  Humfrey,  an  exile  from 
England  for  his  religion,  learnt  to  know  them  in  Germany. 
It  is  now  an  established  fact  that  the  plays  are  the  work 
of  a  Benedictine  nun  of  Gandersheim,  in  Saxony,  and 
their  merits  certainly  justify  her  biographer's  exclama- 
tion :  "  Rara  avis  in  Saxonia  visa  est." 

It  used  to  be  assumed  that  between  the  6th  and  the 
1 2th  century  all  dramatic  representations  ceased,  but 
each  of  these  centuries  when  patiendy  searched  has 
yielded  some  dramatic  texts.  The  feudal  period, 
reckoned  the  most  barbarous,  and  Germania,  set  down 
then,  as  later  in  history,  as  the  least  civilized  of  countries, 
have  produced  the  most  considerable  and  least  imperfect 
of  these  texts  in  the  plays  of  Hrotsuitha,  or  Roswitha, 
a  nun  of  the  Order  of  St.  Benedict,  who  spent  her 
religious  life  in  the  Convent  of  Gandersheim. 

There  is  a  marked  difference  between  her  plays  and 
such  dramas  as  The  Mystery  of  the  Wise  and  Foolish 
Virgins,  which  is  little  more  than  an  amplification  of 
the  sequence  of  the  liturgy.  We  find  here  an  author 
familiar  not  only  with  the  Scriptures,  the  works  of  the 
Fathers  of  the  Church,  of  the  agiographers,  and  of  the 
Christian  philosophers,  but  with  Plautus,  Terence, 
Horace,  Virgil,  and  Ovid — an  author  who,  on  her  own 
confession,  took  the  theatre  of  Terence  as  her  model. 

The  Abbey  of  Gandersheim,  where  these  plays  were 
written,  was  founded  about  the  year  850  by  Ludolph, 
Duke   of  Saxony,   at   the   request    of  his   wife   Oda,   a 


INTRODUCTION  ix 

Frankish  princess.  Although  these  were  what  men  call 
"  the  dark  ages,"  the  darkness  was  comparative.  The 
Saxon  court  at  this  time  was  enlightened,  and  the  Abbeys 
of  Saxony,  notably  that  of  Corbei,  were  centres  of 
learning  and  civilization.  Gandersheim  was  one  of  the 
"  free  abbeys,"  that  is  to  say  its  Abbess  held  it  direct 
from  the  King.  Her  rights  of  overlordship  extended  for 
many  miles ;  she  had  her  own  law  courts,  and  sent  her 
men-at-arms  into  the  field.  In  fact,  she  enjoyed  the 
usual  privileges  and  undertook  the  usual  responsibilities 
of  a  feudal  baron,  and  as  such  had  the  right  to  a  seat 
in  the  Imperial  Diet.  Coins  are  extant,  struck  by  the 
Abbesses  of  Gandersheim,  whose  portraits  they  bear. 

During  the  ioth  and  nth  centuries  these  Abbesses 
were  drawn  chiefly  from  the  royal  house  of  Saxony, 
which  had  been  raised  to  the  dignity  of  the  Imperial 
throne  of  Germania.  Leuckfeld,  in  his  voluminous 
history  of  Gandersheim,  quotes  a  contemporary  chroni- 
cler who  praises  the  royal  nuns  for  keeping  all  luxury 
and  state  out  of  the  life  of  the  community,  and  for 
observing  the  Rule  of  St.  Benedict  strictly.  "  They 
were  forbidden,"  says  the  chronicler,  "  to  eat  away  from 
the  common  table  at  the  appointed  times,  except  in  case 
of  sickness.  They  slept  together,  and  came  together  to 
celebrate  the  canonical  hours.  And  they  set  to  work 
together  whenever  work  had  to  be  done."  The  Abbess 
who  ruled  the  community  in  Roswitha's  time  was 
Gerberg,  or  Gerberga,  a  niece  of  the  Emperor  Otho  I. 


x  THE  PLAYS  OF  ROSWITHA 

Gerberg  was  a  good  classical  scholar,  and  Roswitha 
tells  us,  in  one  of  the  introductory  prefaces  with  which, 
fortunately  for  posterity,  her  works  are  freely  sprinkled, 
how  much  she  owed  to  the  tuition  of  this  Abbess, 
"  younger  in  years  than  I,  but  far  older  in  learning." 

It  is  from  such  sentences  as  this  that  we  are  able  to 
gain  a  little  information  about  Roswitha's  life.  Her 
mention  of  certain  historical  events  and  personages 
proves  that  she  was  born  after  the  year  912  and  before 
the  year  940  (the  known  date  of  Gerberg's  birth).  She 
seems  to  have  entered  the  religious  life  at  Gandersheim 
when  she  was  about  twenty-three  years  old.  She  tells 
us  nothing  about  her  antecedents,  but  as  Gandersheim 
was  an  exclusive  house  we  may  assume  that  she  was  of 
gentle  birth.  What  education  or  experience  of  the 
world  she  had  had  before  she  became  a  nun  is  a  matter 
of  guesswork. 

Roswitha  wrote  in  Latin,  the  only  language  used  in 
the  10th  century  in  the  West  for  literary  composition. 
Conrad  Celtes,  the  well-known  humanist,  discovered  the 
manuscript,  the  writing  of  which  cannot  be  earlier  than 
the  9th,  or  later  than  the  10th  century,  in  the  library 
of  the  Benedictine  monastery  of  St.  Emmeran,  Ratisbon, 
in  the  last  days  of  the  15th  century.  In  the  year  1501 
it  was  printed.  This  first  edition  has  an  interesting 
frontispiece  representing  the  nun  poet  and  dramatist 
presenting  her  works  to  the  Emperor  Otho  II,  in  the 
presence  of  her  Abbess  Gerberg,  who  wears  the  crown 


INTRODUCTION  xi 

of  a  "  Fiirstabtin."  This  and  the  other  plates  illustrat- 
ing incidents  in  the  plays  have  been  attributed  to  both 
Diirer  and  Cranach,  but  they  are  not  signed.  Another 
edition,  that  of  Schurzfleisch,  in  nearly  all  respects  a 
reprint  of  the  first,  was  issued  in  1707,  augmented  with 
biographical  and  philological  notes.  The  text  given  in 
the  Latin  Patrology  (Migne,  Tomus  137)  is  taken 
from  the  Schurzfleisch  edition.  More  valuable  to  the 
student  is  Magnin's  edition.  The  French  commentator 
collated  the  Celtes  and  Schurzfleisch  texts  with  the 
original  manuscript,  which  in  1803  had  been  moved 
from  St.  Emmeran  to  the  Munich  library,  and  found 
one  or  two  readings  preferable  to  those  of  Celtes. 
Magnin  also  restored  some  stage  directions  omitted  by 
Celtes,  one  of  which,  in  the  eighth  scene  of  Callimachus, 
affords,  as  the  English  translator  notes,  valuable  evi- 
dence that  the  play  was  acted,  or  at  least  intended  for  ^ 
representation. 

The  original  manuscript  is  divided  into  three  parts. 
The  first  contains  eight  poems  or  metrical  legends  of 
the  Saints  in  which  reliable  authorities  are  carefully 
followed,  much  skill  being  shown,  however,  in  the 
arrangement  of  the  material  and  in  the  handling  of 
the  "  leonine  hexameter."  The  second  part  consists  of 
the  six  plays  here  given  in  English ;  the  third,  of  a  long 
unfinished  poem  called  "  Panegyric  of  the  Othos."  Celtes 
changed  the  order,  which  is  to  be  regretted,  as  it  is 
obviously  chronological.     Roswitha's  preface  to  Part  III 


xii  THE  PLAYS  OF  ROSWITHA 

shows  more  confidence  than  the  preface  to  the  plays,  and 
very  much  more  than  the  diffident  preface  to  the  poems. 
One  of  these  poems,  "  Passio  Sancti  Pelagii,"  once  enjoyed 
a  very  high  reputation,  and  is  often  quoted  by  Spanish 
and  Portuguese  agiographers.  The  Bollandists  print  it 
entire  in  the  Acta  Sanctorum.  It  has  another  interest  in 
that  Roswitha  tells  us  that  she  obtained  her  facts  from  a 
witness  of  the  saint's  martyrdom. 

Although  Roswitha  claims  Terence  as  her  master  in  the 
art  of  play-writing,  it  cannot  be  said  that  she  imitates  him 
closely.  When  Paphnutius  was  acted  in  London  in  19 14 
the  dramatic  critic  of  The  Times  was  justified  from  one 
point  of  view  in  asserting  that  Roswitha's  style  is  "  not  in 
the  least  Terentian."  For  one  thing  she  is  quite  in- 
different to  the  "  unities,"  and  transports  us  from  place 
to  place  with  bewildering  abruptness.  Her  relation  to 
Terence,  as  she  herself  insists,  is  one  of  moral  contrasts 
rather  than  of  literary  parallels.  The  "  situation  "  in 
Terence's  comedies  almost  invariably  turns  on  the  frailty 
of  women ;  in  Roswitha's  plays  as  invariably  on  their 
heroic  adherence  to  chastity.  Although  considerable 
variety  is  shown  in  the  treatment  of  each  story,  the  motive 
is  always  the  same — to  glorify  uncompromising  fidelity  to 
the  vow  of  virginity.  This  nun  dramatist  deals  coura- 
geously, but,  it  must  be  added,  delicately,  when  it  is 
remembered  that  she  lived  in  an  age  when  even  the  best 
educated  were  neither  fastidious  nor  restrained  in  manners 
or  conversation,  with  the  temptations  which  her  characters 


INTRODUCTION  xiii 

overcome.  The  preface  to  her  plays  shows  that  it  was  not 
without  some  qualms  of  conscience  that  she  wrote  of 
things  "  which  should  not  even  be  named  among  us." 
But  the  purity  of  her  intentions,  which  was  obviously 
recognized  by  her  religious  superiors,  should  induce  the 
most  prudish  reader  to  refrain  from  charges  of  im- 
propriety. With  all  their  shortcomings,  Roswitha's 
works  have  a  claim  to  an  eminent  place  in  medieval 
literature,  and  do  honour  to  her  sex,  to  the  age  in  which 
she  lived,  and  to  the  vocation  which  she  followed. 


THE  PLAYS  OF  ROSWITHA* 

By  CHRISTOPHER  ST.  JOHN 

This  translation  of  the  six  plays  of  Roswitha  (there  are 
really  seven,  for  the  two  parts  of  Gallicanus  practically 
constitute  two  separate  dramas)  was  begun  in  the  year 
191 2  and  completed  in  1914.  The  lively  interest  pro- 
voked by  the  stage  performance  of  one  of  the  translations 
(that  of  the  play  Paphnutius)  by  the  Pioneer  Players  in 
January  1914  led  me  to  think  that  the  publication  of  the 
whole  theatre  of  Roswitha  in  English  would  be  welcomed 
by  all  students  of  the  drama.  Unfortunately,  the  war 
delayed  publication,  and  the  manuscript  was  entirely 
destroyed  by  a  fire  at  the  publisher's  premises  in  Dublin 
during  the  Irish  insurrection  of  Easter  19 16. 

The  work  of  collating  the  various  Latin  texts  of 
Roswitha's  plays  and  producing  a  translation  which  should 
preserve  some  of  the  naive  simplicity  of  the  original  had 
been  a  difficult  one,  and  to  begin  it  all  over  again  was  a 
heart-breaking  task.  The  consciousness  that  the  interest 
in  Roswitha  provoked  by  the  performance  of  Paphnutius 

*  I  have  adopted  this  form  of  the  name  in  preference 
to  "  Hrotsuitha,"  "  Hrotswitha,"  or  "  Hrosvitha,"  as 
being  more  easily  pronounced  and  more  pleasant  to  the 
eye.  The  name  is  said  to  be  derived  from  the  old  Saxon 
word  "  Hrodsuind  "  (strong  voice),  a  derivation  accepted 
by  Roswitha  herself  in  her  preface  to  her  plays,  when 
she  writes  "  ego,  clamor  validus  Gandeishermensis," 
and  approved  by  Grimm. 


THE  PLAYS  OF  ROSWITHA  iv 

had  waned  did  not  alleviate  the  heaviness  of  spirit  in 
which  the  work  of  replacing  the  burned  manuscript  was 
undertaken. 

Those  readers  who  are  unable  or  unwilling  to  compare 
the  translations  with  the  original  should  be  warned  that 
Roswitha's  dialogue  is  characterized  by  a  simplicity  and 
conciseness  hardly  attainable  in  any  tongue  but  Latin. 
The  difficulty  of  finding  equivalents  for  the  terse  phrases 
employed  tempts  the  translator  to  "  write  them  up." 
Although  I  have  aimed  at  producing  a  readable  transla- 
tion for  lovers  of  the  drama  in  all  its  forms  rather  than 
an  exact  paraphrase  for  scholars,  I  have  tried  to  resist  this 
temptation  at  the  risk  of  making  the  dialogue  seem  at 
times  almost  ludicrously  bald.  Except  in  a  few  cases 
where  the  use  of  "  thou  "  seemed  dramatically  fit,  "  tu  " 
has  been  rendered  by  "  you."  Roswitha's  style  is  col- 
loquial, and  the  constant  employment  of  the  singular 
pronoun  would  misrepresent  its  character.  The  Latin 
is  not  obsolete,  and  it  would  surely  be  a  mistake  to  translate 
it  into  an  obsolete  vernacular.  Although  the  author's 
syntax  is  decadent,  and  there  is  a  tendency  to  make  every 
sentence  analytical,  her  use  of  words  is  classical,  and  her 
Latin  in  this  respect  superior  to  the  scholastic  Latin  of  the 
Middle  Ages.  The  only  principle  observed  in  my  transla- 
tion has  been  the  general  one  laid  down  by  Edward 
Fitzgerald  :  "  The  live  dog  is  to  be  preferred  to  the  dead 
lion — in  translation  at  any  rate,"  and  if  this  has  involved 
a  loss  of  dignity,  I  hope  there  may  be  some  compensating 


xvi  THE  PLAYS  OF  ROSWITHA 

gain  in  ease  and  force.*  In  regard  to  the  names  of 
the  characters  in  the  plays,  when  there  were  well- 
known  English  equivalents  such  as  "  Hadrian "  and 
"  Constantine  "  I  have  not  hesitated  to  use  them,  but 
when  there  were  none  I  have  given  the  Latin  names. 
There  is  a  good  precedent  for  this  inconsistency.  We 
speak  of  "  Rome  "  and  "  Venice,"  but  we  do  not  try  to 
Anglicize  Perugia  or  Assisi. 

The  plays  are  all  founded  on  well-known  legends, 
which  Roswitha  follows  very  closely  as  regards  the  facts. 
But  she  shows  great  originality  in  her  use  of  the  facts 
and  in  her  development  of  characters  often  merely 
indicated  in  the  legends.  Three  of  the  plays,  Gallicanus, 
Dulcitius,  and  Sapientia,  deal  with  the  conflict  between 
infant  Christianity  and  Paganism,  martyrdoms  under  the 
Emperors  Hadrian,  Diocletian,  and  Julian  the  Apostate 
being  the  chief  incidents.  Gal/icanus,  which  comes  first 
in  the  manuscript,  shows  considerable  skill  in  dramatic 
construction.  Incident  follows  rapidly  on  incident.  The 
scene  lies  alternately  in  Rome  and  on  the  battlefield,  yet 
the  action  is  kept  quite  clear.  The  story  is  easily  followed, 
although  Roswitha,  like  all  good  dramatists,  eschews 
narrative.  Gallicanus,  one  of  the  Emperor  Constantine's 
generals,  claims  the  hand  of  the  Emperor's  daughter  as  a 
reward  for  undertaking  a  dangerous  campaign  against  the 

*  Believing  that  the  representation  of  the  plays  is 
possible,  even  desirable,  I  have  also  aimed  at  making  the 
dialogue  speakable. 


THE  PLAYS  OF  ROSWITHA  xvii 

Scythians.  The  Emperor  knows  that  Constance  has 
taken  a  solemn  vow  of  chastity,  but  he  dares  not  offend 
Gallicanus  by  a  refusal,  on  account  of  the  value  of  his 
military  services.  So  he  temporizes,  and  consults  Con- 
stance, who  shows  great  shrewdness  in  dealing  with  the 
situation.  She  sends  her  almoners,  John  and  Paul,  to 
accompany  Gallicanus  on  the  Scythian  expedition,  in  the 
hope  that  they  will  convert  him  to  Christianity  before  he 
returns  to  marry  her.  The  stratagem  succeeds.  Galli- 
canus, saved  from  defeat  at  a  critical  moment  in  the 
battle  by  the  intervention  of  a  heavenly  host,  becomes  a 
Christian,  and  on  his  return  to  Rome  shows  respect  for 
Constance's  resolution  to  remain  in  the  virgin  state,  and 
renounces  her.  But  he  admits  that  the  renunciation  is 
bitter — Roswitha  often  shows  such  touches  of  sympathy 
with  natural  human  desires — and  we  are  made  to  feel 
that,  although  the  dramatist  was  in  no  doubt  that  the  life 
of  chastity,  poverty,  and  obedience  is  the  highest  life,  she 
understood  how  hard  it  is  for  those  who  embrace  it  to 
believe  that  the  yoke  will  be  easy  and  the  burden  light. 
The  second  play,  Dukitius,  is  poorly  constructed  and, 
as  a  whole,  less  interesting  than  any  of  the  plays.  Yet 
it  has  some  features  which  repay  close  study.  It  is  the 
only  play  of  Roswitha's  obviously  designed  to  provoke  - 
laughter,  and  if  the  level  of  the  opening  scenes  had  been 
maintained  would  be  a  very  droll  religious  farce.  Here 
we  have  the  usual  tale  of  martyrdom  interspersed  with 
incidents  of  buffoonery.     The  conventional  cruel  and 

b 


xviii  THE  PLAYS  OF  ROSWITHA 

bloody  executioners  are  replaced  by  comic  soldiers  and 
a  comic  governor.  Unfortunately,  the  farcical  vein  is 
suddenly  abandoned,  perhaps  because  Roswitha's  Abbess 
thought  such  fooling  undignified  in  a  nun  !  There  must 
be  some  explanation  of  the  sudden  disappearance  of  the 
comic  character  of  Dulcitius  from  the  play.  However, 
even  as  it  stands  Dulcitius  is  worth  a  great  deal,  since  it 
affords  the  best  proof  we  have  that  Roswitha's  plays  were 
written  for  representation.  There  is  indirect  proof  in  the 
fact  that  we  know  that  plays  were  acted  at  Gandersheim, 
as  at  other  monasteries,  on  great  occasions,  but  here  is 
direct  evidence.  All  the  fun  of  Dulcitius  lies  in  the  action. 
No  dramatist  who  had  not  in  mind  the  effect  on  specta- 
tors could  have  conceived  the  scene  in  which  the  foolish 
governor,  black  as  a  sweep  from  his  amorous  encounter 
with  the  kitchen  pots  and  pans  which  he  mistakes  for 
young  women,  is  chased  away  from  the  palace  gates, 
asking  the  while  if  there  is  anything  amiss  with  his  fine 
and  handsome  appearance.  Stage  directions,  or  didas- 
calia,  are  very  rarely  found  in  old  dramatic  texts,  but 
when  Magnin  compared  Roswitha's  original  text  *  with 
the  first  printed  edition  he  found  several  which  had  been 
omitted  by  Celtes. 

Callimachus,    Abraham,     and      Papknutius     precede 

*  The  manuscript  is  now  in  the  Munich  City  Library. 
Recently  another  manuscript,  containing  four  of  the  six 
dramas,  is  reported  to  have  been  discovered  among  the 
state  archives  of  Cologne.  {Times  Berlin  Correspondent, 
May  9,  1922.) 


THE  PLAYS  OF  ROSWITHA  xix 

Sapientia  in  the  manuscript,  but  as  the  last  belongs  by 
reason  of  its  subject  to  the  same  group  as  Gallicanus  and 
Dulcitius,  it  is  more  convenient  to  discuss  it  next.     It  is 
the  best  constructed  of  the  "  martyrdom  "  plays,  and  is 
singled  out  for  special  praise  by  most  of  the  Roswitha 
commentators.     The    final    scene    in    which    Sapientia, 
having  buried  the  bodies  of  her  martyred  children  out- 
side Rome,  lifts  up  her  soul  in  an  ecstatic  prayer  for 
death  is  described  by  Magnin  as  "  a  ray  of  Sophocles 
shining  through  a  Christian  mind."     Many,   however, 
may  find  the  repetition  in  the  long-drawn-out  "  torture  " 
scenes  monotonous,  and  the  impertinence  of  Sapientia's 
daughters  to  their  imperial  persecutor  as  trying  as  the 
real  thing  must  have  been.     These  slips  of  girls  defy 
"  law  and  order  "  in  the  person  of  the  Emperor  Hadrian 
much  as  in  our  own  day  youthful  suffragettes  used  to 
defy  British  magistrates.     Probably  this  is  in  accordance 
with  truth.     Roswitha  was  separated  from  the  days  of 
the  first  Christians  by  a  shorter  space  of  time  than  that 
which  separates  us  from  her,  and  she  based  her  narrative 
poem   about   the   martyrdom   of  Saint   Pelagius   on   an 
account  given  her  by  an  eye-witness.     While  modern 
authors  (with  the  exception  of  Mr.  Bernard  Shaw,  whose 
Christian  martyrs  in  Androcles  and  the  Lion  bear  a  resem- 
blance to  Roswitha's)  love  to  dwell  on  the  dignity  of 
the    early    converts    to    Christianity,    Roswitha    conveys 
the    impression    that    the    dignity    was    mingled    with 
impudence. 

b2 


xx  THE  PLAYS  OF  ROSWITHA 

In  Callimackus,  Abraham,  and  Papknutius,  Roswitha 
sets  out  to  describe  the  war  between  the  flesh  and  the 
spirit,  and  the  long  penance  which  must  be  done  by  those 
who  have  allowed  the  flesh  to  triumph.  It  is  not  enough 
for  them  to  be  converted  and  to  realise  their  crime  against 
the  infinite  beauty  and  goodness  of  God.  They  are 
called  on  to  take  practical  measures  to  cleanse  themselves. 
Callimackus  is  the  first  of  these  plays,  and  by  no  means 
the  best,  although  it  timidly  sounds  a  note  of  passion, 
rare,  if  it  exists  at  all,  in  medieval  literature.  Some 
commentators  have  laboured  to  establish  a  resemblance 
between  Callimackus  and  Romeo  and  Juliet,  and  there 
are  curious  parallels.  In  both  you  see  a  sepulchre,  a 
woman's  open  grave,  and  the  shroud  lifted  by  the  desper- 
ate hand  of  a  lover.  In  both  two  men  come  to  this 
tragic  scene,  bowed  down  by  grief,  yet  able  to  control  it 
— in  Romeo  and  Juliet,  Capulet  and  Friar  Lawrence,  in 
Callimackus,  the  husband  of  the  dead  woman  and  the 
Apostle  John.  It  would  be  idle  to  strain  the  parallels 
too  far.  They  might  not  strike  the  attention  at  all  if 
Callimackus  did  not  possess  a  touch  of  the  spirit  of  Romeo 
and  Juliet.  It  is  this  which  makes  the  play  seem  to 
belong  to  a  later  period  than  the  others,  and  gives  it  a 
different  character.  The  passionate  language  employed, 
the  romance  of  the  story,  the  colour  of  the  earlier  scenes 
are  extraordinary  when  we  remember  that  the  play  was 
written  in  the  ioth  century.  Haltingly,  and  apparently 
without  any  conscious  intention,  Roswitha  describes  the 


THE  PLAYS  OF  ROSWITHA  ni 

kind  of  love  of  which  Terence  her  model  knew  nothing 
— that  feverish  desire  absorbing  the  senses  and  the  soul, 
which  leads  to  sin  or  madness  or  self-slaughter.  As  if 
frightened  by  her  own  daring  (or  did  the  Abbess  intervene, 
as  we  guess  she  intervened  in  Dulcitius  !),  Roswitha  spoils 
the  play  as  a  play  by  a  lengthy  and  tedious  final  scene 
in  which  St.  John  appears  to  more  advantage  as  a  theo- 
logian than  as  a  man. 

Abraham  and  Paphnutius  show  Roswitha  at  her  best  as 
a  dramatist.  In  both  plays  the  scenes  are  well  knit,  the 
characterization  deft  and  sure,  and  the  dialogue  admirably 
expressive.  The  opening  scenes  of  Abraham  reveal  that 
power  to  suggest  character  and  situation  without  wordy 
explanations  which  is  essential  in  drama.  We  know  at 
once,  although  we  are  not  told,  that  Mary,  mere  child  as 
she  is,  is  not  made  of  stern  stuff,  and  that  her  vocation 
is  doubtful.  Her  replies  to  the  two  holy  hermits  are  all 
that  they  should  be  superficially,  but  through  them  pene- 
trates a  materialism  antagonistic  to  their  mystical  exalta- 
tion. Equally  rich  in  the  quality  of  suggestion  is  the 
scene  in  the  house  of  ill-fame  which  Abraham  visits  to 
rescue  his  niece  from  her  evil  life.  She  does  not  recog- 
nize him  at  first,  but  melancholy  seizes  her  at  the  supper 
which  it  is  her  duty  to  enliven  by  her  gaiety.  There  is 
the  beauty  which  never  ages  and  appeals  to  all  nations 
in  all  times  in  the  following  scene,  when  the  hermit, 
throwing  off  his  worldly  disguise,  shows  his  hair  grown 
white  through  vigils  and  fasts,  and  his  tonsure,  the  badge 


xxii  THE  PLAYS  OF  ROSWITHA 

of  his  thorn-crowned  Master,  and  in  words  more  com- 
passionate than  upbraiding  moves  his  lost  child  to 
contrition.  It  is  indeed  amazing  that  so  true  and  touch- 
ing a  scene,  dealing  with  a  subject  which  has  led  later 
dramatists  into  false  sentiment,  coarseness,  or  mere  preach- 
ing, should  have  been  written  nearly  a  thousand  years 
ago  by  an  obscure  nun  in  a  convent  in  Lower  Saxony. 

Perhaps  nothing  in  Paphnutius  is  on  quite  the  same 
level  of  achievement,  but  a  play  is  not  made  by  a  single 
scene,  and  Paphnutius  as  a  whole  is  better  than  Abraham 
as  a  whole.  Few  will  question  that  it  is  Roswitha's 
masterpiece.  It  is  very  creditable  to  her  that,  although 
the  stones  of  the  two  plays  are  similar,  she  should  have 
shown  such  variety  in  the  treatment  of  them.  When 
we  compare  them  we  find  hardly  any  repetition.  It  is 
interesting  to  notice  that  it  is  not  Mary,  brought  up  to 
the  religious  life  from  which  she  lapses  and  to  which 
she  turns  again,  who  becomes  a  saint,  but  Thais,  whose 
life  from  childhood  has  been  spent  in  "  dangerous 
delights."  There  is  a  spice  of  irony  in  the  fact  that  the 
penitence  of  Thais,  who  had  not  had  Mary's  opportuni- 
ties, is  represented  by  the  dramatist  as  being  on  a  much 
higher  spiritual  plane.  With  true  insight  Roswitha  makes 
Paphnutius  treat  his  penitent  with  far  more  severity 
than  the  hermit  Abraham  treats  Mary.  Yet  the  angelic 
love  of  Paphnutius  for  Thais,  thanks  to  the  dramatist's 
power  of  suggestion,  penetrates  through  his  austerity, 
although  he  never  manifests  it  until  the  moment  when  he 
is   assured   through   the   vision   of  Paul,    St.   Anthony's 


THE  PLAYS  OF  ROSWITHA  xxiii 

disciple,  that  the  repentance  of  the  sinner  has  caused 
that  joy  in  heaven  which  exceeds  all  the  joy  that  can 
be  given  by  the  righteous.  Paphnutius  alone  among 
Roswitha's  plays  has  stood  the  test  of  stage  representa-/^) 
tion  in  modern  times,*  and  come  through  it  triumphantly, 
although  the  miraculous  swiftness  of  Thais's  conversion 
was  considered  most  "  unnatural  "  by  the  critics  who 
witnessed  the  performance. 

Roswitha,  it  must  be  remembered,  believed  in  miracles. 
The  average  Englishman  is  sceptical.  As  Mr.  Chesterton 
has  pointed  out,  he  will  not  swear  to  the  possibility  of  a 
thing  he  has  not  seen,  although  he  is  quite  ready  to  swear 
to  the  impossibility  of  a  thing  he  has  seen.  In  the  fore- 
word which  Mr.  Chesterton  wrote  for  the  programme 
of  the  first  performance  of  Paphnutius  he  compared 
Roswitha's  treatment  of  the  story  of  Thais's  conversion 
with  Anatole  France's  in  his  well-known  novel  "  Thais." 
"  This  very  strong  and  moving  play  {Paphnutius)  was 
written  by  a  person  about  as  different  from  the  author  of 
'  Thais  '  as  could  be  capable  of  wearing  the  human  form, 
a  devout  woman,  vowed  to  a  restricted  life,  and  writing 
in  the  light  of  a  Latin  that  was  gradually  going  out  like  a 
shortening  candle.  ...  It  is  inevitable  that  such  darkness 
should  breed  dangerous  and  even  savage  things,  and  that 

*  Since  this  was  written  Callimachus  (translation  by 
Arthur  Waley)  has  been  produced  by  the  Art  Theatre. 
Paphnutius,  in  my  translation,  was  produced  by  Miss 
Edith  Craig  for  the  Pioneer  Players  at  the  Savoy  Theatre 
on  June  4,  1914,  Miss  Ellen  Terry  appearing  in  the 
part  of  the  Abbess. 


xxiv  THE  PLAYS  OF  ROSWITHA 

even  religion  should  become  almost  as  fierce  as  its  enemies. 
.  .  .  This  nun  of  the  Dark  Ages  wrote  without  any  of 
that  modern  comfort  and  culture  which  ought,  at  the  very 
least,  to  make  men  kind.  When  M.  Anatole  France 
was  the  author  of  '  Silvestre  Bonnard  '  it  did  make  him 
kind.  But  about  Paphnutius  and  Thais,  the  harsh 
ascetic  of  the  hardest  times  of  the  ioth  century  is  far 
kinder  than  he.  In  the  '  Thais  '  of  the  great  French 
romancer  the  whole  point  is  that  Thais  repents  but  that 
Paphnutius  relapses.  The  nun  saves  both  souls.  Anatole 
France  loses  one  of  them.  That  is  modern  universalism." 
I  hope  that  the  publication  of  these  plays  in  the  English 
language  will  confirm  Roswitha's  right  to  a  high  place 
in  medieval  literature,  and  a  place  also  among  the  few 
writers  of  plays  which  have  more  than  a  transitory  interest. 
Perhaps  a  certain  predilection  for  medieval  art  is  necessary 
before  we  can  love  her  wholeheartedly.  I  do  not 
imagine  that  those  who  see  no  beauty  in  the  primitive 
art  of  Cimabue,  Giotto,  Sana  di  Pietro,  or  Lorenzetti 
will  admire  the  work  of  a  primitive  dramatist.  But 
others  who  find  sincere  simplicity,  as  opposed  to  affected 
simplicity,  a  charm  in  itself,  will  take  Roswitha  to  their 
hearts  and  will  have  no  difficulty  in  recognizing  her 
merits.  In  addition  to  the  six  plays  I  have  translated 
the  five  prefaces  printed  in  Roswitha's  complete  works, 
in  the  hope  that  the  "  strong  voice  of  Gandersheim," 
speaking  directly  to  the  reader,  may  win  a  fresh  interest 
for  the  plays,  and  give  some  idea  of  the  character  and 
attainments  of  the  remarkable  woman  who  wrote  them. 


CONTENTS 


THE  PREFACES 

OF  ROSWITHA      . 

FAGF. 

.     xxvi 

GALLICANUS 

•                   ■                   •                   • 

i 

DULCITIUS  . 

. 

•       33 

CALLIMACHUS 

. 

•       49 

ABRAHAM      . 

„ 

•       69 

PAPHNUTIUS 

>                   •                   •                   • 

•       93 

SAPIENTIA      . 

. 

•     131 

NOTE  ON  THE  ACTING  OF  THE  PLAYS     159 


THE  PREFACES  OF 
ROSWITHA 

PREFACE  TO  THE  PLAYS  OF  HROTSWITHA, 
GERMAN  RELIGIOUS  AND  VIRGIN  OF 
THE  SAXON  RACE 

There  are  many  Catholics,  and  we  cannot  entirely  acquit 
ourselves  of  the  charge,  who,  attracted  by  the  polished 
elegance  of  the  style  of  pagan  writers,  prefer  their  works 
to  the  holy  scriptures.  There  are  others  who,  although 
they  are  deeply  attached  to  the  sacred  writings  and  have 
no  liking  for  most  pagan  productions,  make  an  exception 
in  favour  of  the  works  of  Terence,  and,  fascinated  by 
the  charm  of  the  manner,  risk  being  corrupted  by  the 
wickedness  of  the  matter.  Wherefore  I,  the  strong 
voice  of  Gandersheim,  have  not  hesitated  to  imitate  in 
my  writings  a  poet  whose  works  are  so  widely  read,  my 
object  being  to  glorify,  within  the  limits  of  my  poor 
talent,  the  laudable  chastity  of  Christian  virgins  in  that 
self-same  form  of  composition  which  has  been  used  to 
describe  the  shameless  acts  of  licentious  women.     One 


PREFACES  xxvii 

thing  has  all  the  same  embarrassed  me  and  often  brought 
a  blush  to  my  cheek.  It  is  that  I  have  been  compelled 
through  the  nature  of  this  work  to  apply  my  mind  and 
my  pen  to  depicting  the  dreadful  frenzy  of  those  possessed 
by  unlawful  love,  and  the  insidious  sweetness  of  passion 
— things  which  should  not  even  be  named  among  us. 
Yet  if  from  modesty  I  had  refrained  from  treating  these 
subjects  I  should  not  have  been  able  to  attain  my  object — 
to  glorify  the  innocent  to  the  best  of  my  ability.  For 
the  more  seductive  the  blandishments  of  lovers  the  more 
wonderful  the  divine  succour  and  the  greater  the  merit 
of  those  who  resist,  especially  when  it  is  fragile  woman 
who  is  victorious  and  strong  man  who  is  routed  with 
confusion. 

I  have  no  doubt  that  many  will  say  that  my  poor  work 
is  much  inferior  to  that  of  the  author  whom  I  have  taken 
as  my  model,  that  it  is  on  a  much  humbler  scale,  and 
indeed  altogether  different. 

Well,  I  do  not  deny  this.  None  can  justly  accuse  me 
of  wishing  to  place  myself  on  a  level  with  those  who  by 
the  sublimity  of  their  genius  have  so  far  outstripped  me. 
No,  I  am  not  so  arrogant  as  to  compare  myself  even  with 
the  least  among  the  scholars  of  the  ancient  world.  I 
strive  only,  although  my  power  is  not  equal  to  my  desire, 
to  use  what  talent  I  have  for  the  glory  of  Him  Who  gave 
it  me.  Nor  is  my  self-love  so  great  that  I  would,  to 
avoid  criticism,  abstain  from  proclaiming  wherever 
possible  the  virtue  of  Christ  working  in  His  saints.     If 


xxviii         THE  PLAYS  OF  ROSWITHA 

this  pious  devotion  gives  satisfaction  I  shall  rejoice ;  it 
it  does  not,  either  on  account  of  my  own  worthlessness 
or  of  the  faults  of  my  unpolished  style,  I  shall  still  be  glad 
that  I  made  the  effort. 

In  the  humbler  works  of  my  salad  days  I  gathered  up 
my  poor  researches  in  heroic  strophes,  but  here  I  have 
sifted  them  into  a  series  of  dramatic  scenes  and  avoided 
through  omission  the  pernicious  voluptuousness  of  pagan 
writers. 

EPISTLE    OF    THE    SAME    TO    CERTAIN 
LEARNED  PATRONS  OF  THIS  BOOK 

To  you,  learned  and  virtuous  men,  who  do  not  envy 
the  success  of  others,  but  on  the  contrary  rejoice  in  it  as 
becomes  the  truly  great,  Hrotswitha,  poor  humble  sinner, 
sends  wishes  for  your  health  in  this  life  and  your  joy  in 
eternity. 

I  cannot  praise  you  enough  for  your  humility,  or  pay 
an  adequate  tribute  to  your  kindness  and  affection.  To 
think  that  you,  who  have  been  nurtured  in  the  most  pro- 
found philosophical  studies  and  have  attained  knowledge 
in  perfection,  should  have  deigned  to  approve  the  humble 
work  of  an  obscure  woman  !  You  have,  however,  not 
praised  me  but  the  Giver  of  the  grace  which  works  in  me, 
by  sending  me  your  paternal  congratulations  and  admitting 
that  I  possess  some  little  knowledge  of  those  arts  the 
subtleties    of  which   exceed  the  grasp    of  my  woman's 


PREFACES  xxix 

mind.  Until  I  showed  my  work  to  you  I  had  not  dared 
to  let  anyone  see  it  except  my  intimate  companions. 
I  came  near  abandoning  this  form  of  writing  altogether, 
for  if  there  were  few  to  whom  I  could  submit  my  com- 
positions at  all  there  were  fewer  still  who  could  point 
out  what  needed  correction  and  encourage  me  to  go  on. 
But  now,  reassured  by  your  verdict  (is  it  not  said  that 
the  testimony  of  three  witnesses  is  "  equivalent  to  the 
truth  "  ?),  I  feel  that  I  have  enough  confidence  to  apply 
myself  to  writing,  if  God  grants  me  the  power,  and  that 
I  need  not  fear  the  criticism  of  the  learned  whoever  they 
may  be.  Still,  I  am  torn  by  conflicting  feelings.  I 
rejoice  from  the  depths  of  my  soul  that  the  God  through 
Whose  grace  alone  I  am  what  I  am  should  be  praised 
in  me,  but  I  am  afraid  of  being  thought  greater  than 
I  am.  I  know  that  it  is  as  wrong  to  deny  a  divine  gift 
as  to  pretend  falsely  that  we  have  received  it.  So  I  will 
not  deny  that  through  the  grace  of  the  Creator  I  have 
acquired  some  knowledge  of  the  arts.  He  has  given  me 
the  ability  to  learn — I  am  a  teachable  creature — yet  of 
myself  I  should  know  nothing.  He  has  given  me  a 
perspicacious  mind,  but  one  that  lies  fallow  and  idle 
when  it  is  not  cultivated.  That  my  natural  gifts  might 
not  be  made  void  by  negligence  I  have  been  at  pains, 
whenever  I  have  been  able  to  pick  up  some  threads  and 
scraps  torn  from  the  old  mande  of  philosophy,  to  weave 
them  into  the  stuff  of  my  own  book,  in  the  hope  that 
my  lowly    ignorant   effort    may   gain    more   acceptance 


xxx  THE  PLAYS  OF  ROSWITHA 

through  the  introduction  of  something  of  a  nobler 
strain,  and  that  the  Creator  of  genius  may  be  the  more 
honoured  since  it  is  generally  believed  that  a  woman's 
intelligence  is  slower.  Such  has  been  my  motive  in 
writing,  the  sole  reason  for  the  sweat  and  fatigue  which 
my  labours  have  cost  me.  At  least  I  do  not  pretend  to 
have  knowledge  where  I  am  ignorant.  On  the  contrary, 
my  best  claim  to  indulgence  is  that  I  know  how  much 
I  do  not  know. 

Impelled  by  your  kindly  interest  and  your  express 
wish  I  come,  bowing  low  like  a  reed,  to  submit  this 
little  work  to  your  judgment.  I  wrote  it  indeed  with 
that  idea  in  my  mind,  although  doubt  as  to  its  merits 
has  made  me  withhold  it  until  now.  I  hope  you  will 
revise  it  with  the  same  careful  attention  that  you  would 
give  to  a  work  of  your  own,  and  that  when  you  have 
succeeded  in  bringing  it  up  to  the  proper  standard  you 
will  return  it  to  me,  that  I  may  learn  what  are  its  worst 
faults. 


ROSWITHA'S  PREFACE  TO 
HER  POETICAL  WORKS 

(The  Life  Story  of  the  Blessed  Virgin,  The  Fall  and 
Conversion  of  Theophilus,  The  Martyrdom  of  Saint 
Agnes,  Poems  concerning  the  First  Cenobites  at 
Gandersheim,  The  Acts  of  Oiho  I,  etc.,  etc.) 

I  offer  this  little  book,  which  has  not  much  to  recom- 
mend it  in  the  way  of  beauty,  although  it  has  been  com- 
piled with  a  good  deal  of  care,  for  the  criticism  of  all 
those  learned  people  who  do  not  take  pleasure  in  a 
writer's  faults  but  are  anxious  to  amend  them.  I  am  well 
aware  that  in  my  first  works  I  made  many  mistakes  not 
only  in  prosody  but  in  literary  composition,  and  there 
must  be  much  to  criticise  in  this  book.  By  acknowledging 
my  shortcomings  beforehand  I  hope  I  am  entitled  to 
ready  indulgence  as  well  as  to  careful  correction  of  my 
mistakes.  To  the  objection  that  may  be  raised  that 
I  have  borrowed  parts  of  this  work  from  authorities 
which  some  condemn  as  apocryphal,  I  would  answer 
that  I  have  erred  through  ignorance,  not  through  pre- 
sumption.    When    I    started,    timidly   enough,    on    the 


xxxii  THE  PLAYS  OF  ROSWITHA 

work  of  composition  I  did  not  know  that  the  authenticity 
of  my  material  had  been  questioned.  On  discovering 
this  to  be  the  case  I  decided  not  to  discard  it,  because  it 
often  happens  that  what  is  reputed  false  turns  out  to  be 
true.  In  these  circumstances  I  shall  need  as  much 
assistance  in  defending  this  little  work  as  in  improving 
it.  It  must  be  remembered  that  when  I  began  it  I  was 
far  from  possessing  the  necessary  qualifications,  being 
young  both  in  years  and  learning.  Up  to  the  present 
I  have  not  submitted  the  work  to  any  experts  much 
as  I  needed  their  advice,  for  fear  that  the  roughness  of 
the  style  would  make  them  discourage  me  to  such  an 
extent  that  I  might  give  up  writing  altogether.  Un- 
known to  all  round  me,  I  have  toiled  in  secret,  often 
destroying  what  seemed  to  me  to  be  ill  written,  and 
rewriting  it.  I  have  tried  to  the  best  of  my  ability  to 
improvise  on  phrases  collected  from  sacred  writings  in 
the  precincts  of  our  convent  at  Gandersheim.  I  was 
trained  first  by  our  most  learned  and  gentle  novice- 
mistress  Rikkarda  and  others.  Later,  I  owed  much  to 
the  kind  favour  and  encouragement  of  a  royal  personage, 
Gerberga,  under  whose  abbatial  rule  I  am  now  living. 
She,  though  younger  in  years  than  I,  was,  as  might  be 
expected  of  the  niece  of  an  Emperor,  far  older  in 
learning,  and  she  had  the  kindness  to  make  me  familiar 
with  the  works  of  some  of  those  authors  in  whose  writings 
she  had  been  instructed  by  learned  men.  Although 
prosody  may  seem  a  hard  and  difficult  art  for  a  woman  to 


PREFACES  xxxiii 

master,  I,  without  any  assistance  but  that  given  by  the 
merciful  grace  of  Heaven  (in  which  I  have  trusted,  rather 
than  in  my  own  strength),  have  attempted  in  this  book  to 
sing  in  dactyls.  I  was  eager  that  the  talent  given  me  by 
Heaven  should  not  grow  rusty  from  neglect,  and  remain 
silent  in  my  heart  from  apathy,  but  under  the  hammer  of 
assiduous  devotion  should  sound  a  chord  of  divine  praise. 
If  1  have  achieved  nothing  else,  this  alone  should  make  my 
work  of  some  value.  Wherefore,  reader,  whosoever  you 
may  be,  I  beg  you,  if  you  think  it  right  before  God,  to 
help  me  by  not  sparing  censure  of  such  pages  as  are  poor 
and  lack  the  skill  of  a  master.  If,  on  the  contrary, 
you  find  some  that  stand  the  test  of  criticism,  give  the 
credit  to  God,  ascribing  all  defects  to  my  shortcomings. 
Do  this  in  an  indulgent  rather  than  in  a  censorious 
spirit,  for  the  critic  forfeits  the  right  to  be  severe  when 
the  writer  acknowledges  defects  with  humility. 


TO   GERBERG 

Illustrious  Abbess,  venerated  no  less  for  uprightness 
and  honesty  than  for  the  high  distinction  of  a  royal  and 
noble  race,  Roswitha  of  Gandersheim,  the  last  of  the 
least  of  those  fighting  under  your  ladyship's  rule,  desires 
to  give  you  all  that  a  servant  owes  her  mistress. 

O  my  Lady,  bright  with  the  varied  jewels  of  spiritual 
wisdom,  your  maternal  kindness  will  not  let  you  hesitate 
to  read  what,  as  you  know,  was  written  at  your  command  ! 
It  was  you  who  gave  me  the  task  of  chronicling  in  verse 
the  deeds  of  the  Emperor,  and  you  know  that  it  was 
impossible  to  collect  them  together  from  hearsay.  You 
can  imagine  the  difficulties  which  my  ignorance  put  in 
my  way  while  I  was  toiling  over  this  work.  There  were 
things  of  which  I  could  not  find  any  written  record,  nor 
could  I  elicit  information  by  word  of  mouth  which 
seemed  sufficiently  reliable.  I  was  like  a  person  in  a 
strange  land  wandering  without  a  guide  through  a  forest 
where  the  path  is  concealed  by  dense  snow.  In  vain  he 
tries  to  follow  the  directions  of  those  who  have  shown 
the  way.  He  wanders  from  the  path,  now  by  chance 
strikes  it  again,  until  at  last,  penetrating  the  thickness  of 
the  wood,  he  reaches  a  place  where  he  may  take  a  long- 
desired  rest,  and  sitting  down  there,  does  not  proceed 


PREFACES  xxxv 

further  until  someone  overtakes  him,  or  he  discovers  the 
footprints  of  one  who  has  gone  before.  Even  so  have  I, 
obeying  the  command  to  undertake  a  complete  chronicle 
of  great  deeds,  gone  on  my  way,  trembling,  hesitating, 
and  vacillating,  so  great  was  the  difficulty  of  finding  a 
path  in  the  forest  of  these  royal  achievements. 

And  now,  worn  out  by  the  journey,  I  am  holding  my 
peace  and  resting  in  a  suitable  place.  I  do  not  propose 
to  go  further  without  better  guidance.  If  I  could  be 
inspired  by  the  eloquent  words  of  learned  folk  (either 
already  set  down  or  to  be  set  down  in  the  future)  I  might 
perhaps  find  a  means  of  glozing  my  uncouth  workman- 
ship. At  present  I  am  defenceless  at  every  point,  because 
I  am  not  supported  by  any  authority.  I  also  fear  I  shall 
be  accused  of  temerity  in  presuming  to  describe  in  my 
humble  uncultured  way  matters  which  ought  to  be  set 
forth  with  all  the  ceremony  of  great  learning.  Yet  if 
my  work  is  examined  by  those  who  know  how  to  weigh 
things  fairly,  I  shall  be  more  easily  pardoned  on  account 
of  my  sex  and  my  inferior  knowledge,  especially  as  I  did 
not  undertake  it  of  my  own  will  but  at  your  command. 
Why  should  I  fear  the  judgment  of  others,  since  if  there 
are  mistakes  I  should  fall  only  under  your  censure,  and 
why  should  I  not  escape  reproof  seeing  that  I  was  anxious 
to  keep  silence  ?  I  should  deserve  blame  if  I  sought  to 
withhold  my  work.  In  any  case  I  leave  the  decision  to 
you  and  your  friend,  Archbishop  William,  to  whom  you 
have  thought  fit  to  show  these  unpolished  lines. 


ROSWITHA'S   PREFACE  TO 
THE  COMPLETE  WORKS 

I  found  all  the  material  I  have  used  in  this  book  in 
various  ancient  works  by  authors  of  reputation,  with  the 
exception  of  the  story  of  the  martyrdom  of  St.  Pelagius, 
which  has  been  told  here  in  verse.  The  details  of  this 
were  supplied  to  me  by  an  inhabitant  of  the  town  where 
the  Saint  was  put  to  death.  This  truthful  stranger 
assured  me  that  he  had  not  only  seen  Pelagius,  whom  he 
described  as  the  most  beautiful  of  men,  face  to  face,  but 
had  been  a  witness  of  his  end.  If  anything  has  crept 
into  my  other  compositions,  the  accuracy  of  which  can 
be  challenged,  it  is  not  my  fault,  unless  it  be  a  fault  to 
have  reproduced  the  statements  of  unreliable  authorities. 


GALLICANUS 

ARGUMENT 

The  conversion  of  GaUicanus,  Commander-in-Chief. 
On  the  eve  of  his  departure  for  a  campaign  against  the 
Scythians,  GaUicanus  is  betrothed  to  the  Emperor 
Constantine's  daughter,  Constance,  a  consecrated  virgin. 

When  threatened  with  defeat  in  battle,  GaUicanus  is 
converted  by  John  and  Paul,  Grand  Almoners  to 
Constance.  He  is  immediately  baptized  and  takes  a 
vow  of  celibacy. 

Later  he  is  exiled  by  order  of  Julian  the  Apostate,  and 
receives  the  crown  of  martyrdom.  John  and  Paul  are 
put  to  death  by  the  same  prince  and  buried  secretly  in 
their  own  house.  Not  long  after,  the  son  of  their 
executioner  becomes  possessed  by  a  devil.  He  is  cured 
after  confessing  the  crime  committed  by  his  father.  He 
bears  witness  to  the  merits  of  the  martyrs,  and  is  baptized, 
together  with  his  father. 


CHARACTERS  IN  PART  I 

THE  EMPEROR  CONSTANTINE. 
GALLICANUS. 

CONSTANCE  {Daughter  of  Constantine). 

ARTEMIA)  ,n       .         .„  ... 
_,_,  _         :-  {Daughters  of  Ga/ttcanus). 

JOHN  i 

and      ^{Grand  Almoners  to  Constance). 
PAUL  J 

LORDS  OF  THE  COURT. 
BRADAN  {King  of  the  Scythians). 
TRIBUNES. 
ROMAN  SOLDIERS. 
SCYTHIAN  SOLDIERS. 
HELENA  {Mother  of  Constantine). 

CHARACTERS  IN  PART  II 

JULIAN  {The  Apostate). 

GALLICANUS. 

TERENTIANUS. 

JOHN. 

PAUL. 

CONSULS. 

CHRISTIANS. 

SOLDIERS. 


GALLICANUS 

SCENE  I 

CONST ANTINE.  Gallicanus,  this  tries  my  patience. 
You  have  delayed  the  offensive  against  the  Scythians  too 
long.  The  only  nation  which  boldly  resists  our  power  and 
refuses  to  make  peace  with  Rome  !  You  know  well 
enough  that  you  were  chosen  because  of  your  energy  in 
your  country's  service. 

GALLICANUS.  Most  noble  Constantine,  I  have 
served  you  hand  and  foot,  ungrudgingly,  devotedly,  and 
have  always  striven  to  repay  your  trust  in  me  with  deeds. 
I  have  never  shirked  any  task. 

CONSTANTINE.  Is  there  any  need  to  remind  me  ? 
As  if  your  great  services  were  not  always  in  mind  !  I 
spoke,  not  to  reproach  you,  but  to  urge  you  to  act  quickly. 

GALLICANUS.  I  will  set  out  at  once. 

CONSTANTINE.  I  am  rejoiced  to  hear  it. 

GALLICANUS.  I  am  ready  to  obey  your  orders  if 
it  costs  me  my  life. 

CONSTANTINE.  Your  zeal  pleases  me.  I  appreciate 
your  devotion. 


4  THE  PLAYS  OF  ROSWITHA 

GALLICANUS.  As  both  are  immense  should  they 
not  be  rewarded  on  the  same  scale  ? 

CONSTANTINE.  That  is  only  fair. 

GALLICANUS.  It  is  easier  for  a  man  to  undertake  a 
difficult  enterprise  when  he  is  sustained  by  the  knowledge 
that  his  reward  is  sure. 

CONSTANTINE.  Naturally. 

GALLICANUS.  I  beg  you  then  to  promise  me  now 
my  prize  for  this  dangerous  undertaking.  In  hard  and 
strenuous  fighting,  when  it  seems  as  if  I  must  be  defeated, 
the  thought  of  this  reward  will  give  me  new  strength. 

CONSTANTINE.  The  reward  deemed  by  the  Senate 
the  most  glorious  a  man  can  desire  has  never  been  withheld 
from  you,  and  never  shall  be.  You  enjoy  the  freedom  of 
my  court,  and  the  highest  honour  among  those  who 
surround  me. 

GALLICANUS.  I  know,  but  I  am  not  thinking  of 
that. 

CONSTANTINE.  If  you  have  other  ambitions,  you 
must  tell  me. 

GALLICANUS.  I  have. 

CONSTANTINE.  What  are  they  ? 

GALLICANUS.  Dare  I  tell  you  ? 

CONSTANTINE.  Of  course! 

GALLICANUS.  You  will  be  angry. 

CONSTANTINE.  Not  at  all ! 

GALLICANUS.  You  are  sure  ? 

CONSTANTINE.  Quite  sure. 


GALLICANUS  5 

GALLICANUS.  We  shall  see.  I  say  you  will  be 
indignant 

CONST  ANTINE.  Your  fears  are  groundless.  Come! 
Speak  ! 

GALLICANUS.  Since  you  command  me,  I  will.  I 
love  Constance.     I  love  your  daughter. 

CONST  ANTINE.  That  is  well.  You  do  right  to 
love  the  daughter  of  your  sovereign.  Your  love  honours 
her. 

GALLICANUS.  You  say  this  to  cut  me  short. 

CONSTANTINE.  Not  so. 

GALLICANUS.  I  wish  to  marry  her.  Will  you  give 
your  consent  ? 

CONSTANTINE.  He  asks  no  small  thing,  my  lords. 
This  is  an  honour  of  which  none  of  you  have  ever  dreamed. 

GALLICANUS.  Alas  !  I  foresaw  this.  He  scorns  me. 
{To  the  Lords)  Intercede  for  me,  I  implore  you. 

THE  LORDS.  Most  illustrious  Emperor,  we  beg  you 
to  be  generous.  Remember  his  services,  and  do  not  turn  a 
deaf  ear  to  his  request. 

CONSTANTINE.  I  have  not  done  so,  but  it  is  my 
duty  first  to  make  sure  that  my  daughter  consents. 

THE  LORDS.  That  is  only  reasonable. 

CONST  ANTINE.  I  will  go  to  her,  and,  if  such  is 
your  wish,  Gallicanus,  I  will  lay  the  project  before  her. 

GALLICANUS.   It  is  my  wish. 


6  THE  PLAYS  OF  ROSWITHA 

SCENE  II 

CONSTANCE.  Our  Lord  the  Emperor  approaches. 
He  looks  strangely  grave  and  sad.    What  can  it  mean  ? 

CONST ANTINE.  Constance,  my  child,  come  nearer. 
I  wish  to  speak  to  you. 

CONSTANCE.  I  am  here,  my  lord.  Command 
me. 

CONSTANTINE.  I  am  in  great  distress  of  mind. 
My  heart  is  heavy. 

CONSTANCE.  As  you  came  in  I  saw  that  you  were 
sad,  and  without  knowing  the  reason  I  was  troubled. 

CONSTANTINE.  It  is  on  your  account. 

CONSTANCE.  On  my  account  ? 

CONSTANTINE.  Yes. 

CONSTANCE.  You  frighten  me.  What  is  it,  my 
lord  ? 

CONSTANTINE.  The  fear  of  grieving  you  ties  my 
tongue. 

CONSTANCE.  You  will  grieve  me  more  by  keeping 
silence. 

CONSTANTINE.  Gallicanus,  my  General,  whose 
victories  have  won  him  the  first  place  among  the  princes 
of  my  realm — Gallicanus,  whose  sword  is  necessary  for 
the  defence  of  the  Empire — Gallicanus 

CONSTANCE.  What  of  him  ? 

CONSTANTINE.  He  wants  to  make  you  his  wife. 

CONSTANCE.  Me? 


GALLICANUS  7 

CONSTANTINE.  Yes. 
CONSTANCE.  I  would  rather  die. 
CONSTANTINE.  I  knew  that  would  be  your  answer. 
CONSTANCE.   It  cannot  surprise  you,  as  it  was  with 
your  consent  and  approval  that  I  consecrated  myself  to 
God. 

CONSTANTINE.  I  have  not  forgotten. 
CONSTANCE.   I  will  keep  my  vow  inviolate.    No- 
thing can  ever  force  me  to  break  it. 

CONSTANTINE.  I  know  you  are  right,  and  the 
greater  my  difficulty.  For  if,  as  is  my  duty  as  your  father, 
I  permit  you  to  be  faithful  to  your  vow,  as  a  sovereign  I 
shall  suffer  for  it.  Yet  were  I  to  oppose  your  resolution — 
which  God  forbid  ! — I  should  deserve  eternal  punishment. 
CONSTANCE.  If  I  despaired  of  divine  help  I  should 
be  more  wretched  than  you. 

CONSTANTINE.  That  is  true. 
CONSTANCE.  But  a  heart  which  trusts  in  God's 
goodness  is  armed  against  sorrow. 

CONSTANTINE.  You  speak  well,  my  Constance. 
CONSTANCE.   My  lord,  if  you  will  deign  to  listen  to 
my  advice,  I  can  show  you  how  to  escape  this  double  danger. 
CONSTANTINE.  Oh,  that  you  could  ! 
CONSTANCE.   You  must  pretend  that  you  are  will- 
ing to  grant  Gallicanus  what  he  asks  when  the  war  has 
been  won.      Make  him  believe  that  I  agree.      Persuade 
him  to  leave  with  me  during  his  absence  at  the  war  his 
two  daughters,  Attica  and  Anemia,  as  pledges  of  the  bond 


8  THE  PLAYS  OF  ROSWITHA 

of  love  which  is  to  unite  us.  Tell  him  that  in  return  I  will 
send  with  him  on  his  expedition  my  two  Almoners,  John 
and  Paul. 

CONSTANTINE.  And  if  he  should  return  victorious  ? 
What  then  ? 

CONSTANCE.  We  must  pray  the  Father  of  us  all 
that  he  will  change  his  mind. 

CONSTANTINE.  My  daughter,  my  daughter! 
Your  sweet  words  have  softened  the  harshness  of 
your  father's  grief!  Henceforth  I  will  not  give  way  to 
anxiety. 

CONSTANCE.  There  is  no  need. 

CONSTANTINE.  I  will  return  to  Gallicanus  and 
satisfy  him  with  this  promise. 

CONSTANCE.  Go  in  peace,  my  lord. 

SCENE  III 

GALLICANUS.  O  princes,  I  die  of  impatience  to 
learn  what  has  come  of  this  long  conference  between  our 
august  sovereign  and  his  daughter. 

THE  LORDS.  He  promised  to  plead  your  cause. 

GALLICANUS.  Oh,  that  his  arguments  may  prevail ! 

THE  LORDS.   Maybe  they  will. 

GALLICANUS.  Peace  !  Silence  all  of  you  !  The 
Emperor  comes.  His  face  is  not  anxious  as  when  he  left 
us,  but  serene  and  glad. 

THE  LORDS.  A  good  omen  ! 


GALLICANUS  9 

GALLICANUS.  It  is  said  that  the  face  is  the  mirror 
of  the  soul.  If  this  be  true,  the  calm  joy  in  his  reflects  a 
kindly  mood. 

THE  LORDS.  We  trust  so. 

SCENE  IV 

CONST ANTINE.  Gallicanus  ! 

GALLICANUS.  What  did  he  say  ? 

THE  LORDS.  Forward,  forward.  He  is  asking  for  you 

GALLICANUS.  Now  the  good  gods  help  me  ! 

CONSTANTINE.  Gallicanus,  set  out  for  the  war 
with  an  easy  mind.  On  your  return  you  shall  receive  the 
reward  you  covet. 

GALLICANUS.  This  is  not  a  jest  ? 

CONSTANTINE.  How  can  you  ask  ? 

GALLICANUS.  I  should  be  happy  indeed  if  I  could 
know  one  thing. 

CONSTANTINE.  What  may  that  be  ? 

GALLICANUS.  Her  answer. 

CONSTANTINE.  My  daughter's  answer  ? 

GALLICANUS.  Yes.  What  did  she  say  ? 

CONSTANTINE.  It  is  unreasonable  to  expect  a 
young  maid  to  answer  in  so  many  words.  Events  will 
prove  that  she  consents. 

GALLICANUS.  If  I  could  be  assured  of  that,  I 
should  trouble  little  about  the  manner  of  her  answer. 

CONSTANTINE.  You  want  proof? 


io  THE  PLAYS  OF  ROSWITHA 

GALLICANUS.  I  hunger  for  it. 

CONST ANTINE.  Then  listen.  She  has  given  orders 
that  her  Almoners,  John  and  Paul,  shall  stay  with  you  until 
the  day  of  your  nuptials. 

GALLICANUS.  And  her  reason  ? 

CONST  ANTINE.  That  by  constant  intercourse  with 
them  you  may  learn  to  know  how  she  lives — her  habits 
and  her  tastes. 

GALLICANUS.  An  excellent  plan,  and  one  that 
pleases  me  beyond  measure. 

CONST  ANTINE.  She  would  like  you  in  return  to 
allow  your  two  young  daughters  to  live  with  her  for  the 
same  period.  She  thinks  she  can  learn  from  them  how  to 
please  you. 

GALLICANUS.  Oh,  joy,  joy  !  All  things  are  falling 
out  as  I  wished. 

CONSTANTINE.  Send  for  your  daughters  without 
delay. 

GALLICANUS.  Are  my  soldiers  still  there  ?  Come, 
fellows,  hasten  !  Run  to  my  daughters  and  bring  them  to 
their  sovereign's  presence. 

SCENE  V 

SOLDIERS.  Most  noble  Constance,  the  illustrious 
daughters  of  Gallicanus  are  here.  They  are  beautiful,  wise 
and  virtuous,  and  in  every  way  worthy  of  your  friendship. 

CONSTANCE.  They  are  welcome.    (They  are  Intro- 


GALLICANUS  i  r 

duced  zcitk  ceremony?)  *  O  Christ,  lover  of  virginity  and 
fount  of  chastity  !  Thou  Who  through  the  intercession 
of  Thy  holy  martyr  Agnes  hast  preserved  my  body  from 
stain  and  my  mind  from  pagan  errors  !  Thou  Who  hast 
shown  me  as  an  example  Thy  Mother's  virgin  bed  where 
Thou  didst  manifest  Thyself  true  God  !  Thou  Who 
before  time  began  wast  born  of  God  the  Father,  and  in 
the  fullness  of  time  wast  born  again  true  man,  of  a 
mother's  womb  —  I  implore  Thee,  true  Wisdom, 
co-eternal  with  the  Father,  the  Creator,  Upholder  and 
Governor  of  the  Universe,  to  grant  my  prayer  !  May 
Gallicanus,  who  seeks  to  gain  the  love  which  I  can  give 
only  to  Thee,  be  turned  from  his  unlawful  purpose. 
Take  his  daughters  to  Thyself,  and  pour  the  sweetness 
of  Thy  love  into  their  hearts  that  they  may  despise  all 
carnal  bonds,  and  be  admitted  to  the  blessed  company 
of  virgins  who  are  consecrated  to  Thee  ! 

ARTEMIA.  Hail,  most  noble  Constance  !  Imperial 
highness,  hail  ! 

CONSTANCE.  Greeting,  my  sisters,  Artemia  and 
Attica.  Stand  up,  stand  up  !  No,  do  not  kneel.  Salute 
me  rather  with  a  loving  kiss. 

ARTEMIA.  We  come  joyfully  to  offer  you  our 
homage,  lady.  We  are  ready  to  serve  you  with  our  whole 
hearts,  and  we  seek  no  reward  but  your  love. 

*  Celtes  prints  this  as  part  of  the  text ;  Magnin  as  a 
direction,  on  the  ground  that  it  is  introducuntur,  not  intro- 
ducautur  in  the  MS. 


12  THE  PLAYS  OF  ROSWITHA 

CONSTANCE.  We  have  one  Lord  Who  is  in  heaven. 
He  alone  should  be  served  like  that.  We  owe  Him  a  love 
and  fidelity  which  must  be  shown  not  only  with  whole 
hearts  but  with  whole  bodies.  That  is  if  we  would  enter 
His  kingdom  with  the  virgin's  palm. 

ARTEMIA.  We  do  not  question  this.  You  will  find 
us  eager  to  obey  you  in  all  things,  but  never  so  eager  as 
when  you  exhort  us  to  confess  our  faith  and  keep  our  vow 
of  purity. 

CONSTANCE.  That  is  a  good  answer,  and  one 
worthy  of  a  noble  mind.  I  see  that  through  divine  grace 
you  already  have  the  faith. 

ARTEMIA.  How  could  we  poor  idolators  have  any 
good  thought  if  light  had  not  been  given  us  from  above  ? 

CONSTANCE.  The  strength  of  your  faith  makes  me 
hope  that  Gallicanus  too  will  believe  some  day. 

ARTEMIA.  He  has  only  to  be  taught.  Then  he  must 
believe. 

CONSTANCE.  Send  for  John  and  Paul. 

SCENE  VI 

JOHN.  You  sent  for  us,  Highness.  We  are  here. 

CONSTANCE.  Go  at  once  to  Gallicanus  and  attach 
yourselves  to  his  person.  Instruct  him  little  by  little  in 
the  mysteries  of  our  faith.  Perhaps  God  means  to  make  us 
the  instruments  of  winning  him  to  His  service. 

PAUL.  God  give  us  success  !   We  shall  do  all  we  can. 


GALLICANUS  13 

SCENE  VII 

GALLICANUS.  You  are  welcome,  John — and  you, 
Paul.    I  have  awaited  your  coming  with  impatience. 

JOHN.  As  soon  as  we  received  our  lady's  commands 
we  hastened  at  once  to  put  ourselves  at  your  service. 

GALLICANUS.  Your  offer  to  serve  me  gives  me  a 
pleasure  that  nothing  else  could  give. 

PAUL.  That  is  natural,  for,  as  the  saying  goes,  "The 
friends  of  our  friends  are  our  friends." 

GALLICANUS.  A  true  saying. 

JOHN.  The  love  our  lady  bears  you  assures  us  of  your 
goodwill. 

GALLICANUS.  You  can  rely  on  it.  Come,  tribunes 
and  centurions,  assemble  the  troops.  Soldiers  in  my  com- 
mand, I  present  to  you  John  and  Paul,  for  whose  arrival 
our  departure  has  been  delayed. 

TRIBUNES.  Lead  us  on.  (The  tribunes  gather  round 
Gallicanus.)  * 

GALLICANUS.  We  must  first  go  to  the  Capitol, 
and  visit  the  temples  to  propitiate  the  gods  with  the 
customary  sacrifices.  That  is  the  way  to  obtain  success 
for  our  arms. 

TRIBUNES.  That  is  certain. 

JOHN.  Let  us  withdraw  for  a  time. 

PAUL.  We  cannot  do  otherwise. 

*  Another  "  stage  direction  "  omitted  by  Celtes. 


14  THE  PLAYS  OF  ROSWITHA 

SCENE  VIII 

JOHN.  The  General  is  leaving  the  temple.  Let  us 
mount  our  horses  and  ride  to  meet  him. 

PAUL.  This  moment. 

GALLICANUS.  I  noticed  you  were  not  with  us. 
Where  have  you  been  ? 

JOHN.  We  were  seeing  to  our  baggage.  We  have 
sent  it  on  ahead  that  we  may  ride  with  you  unen- 
cumbered. 

GALLICANUS.  Well  planned  ! 

SCENE  IX 

GALLICANUS.  By  Jupiter,  tribunes,  I  see  the 
legions  of  an  immense  army  advancing  !  The  diversity 
of  their  arms  is  enough  to  make  the  stoutest  heart  tremble. 

TRIBUNES.  By  Hercules,  the  enemy  ! 

GALLICANUS.  Let  us  resist  with  courage,  and  show 
them  we  are  men  ! 

TRIBUNES.  It  is  useless  to  attempt  resistance  to 
such  a  host. 

GALLICANUS.  What,  then,  do  you  propose  ? 

TRIBUNES.  Surrender. 

GALLICANUS.  Apollo  forbid  ! 

TRIBUNES.  By  Pollux,  we  must  surrender  !  See, 
we  are  surrounded  on  every  side — we  are  being  mown 
down — we  perish  ! 


GALLICANUS  1 5 

GALLICANUS.  Ye  gods  !  What  will  happen  if  the 
tribunes  refuse  to  obey  me,  and  surrender  ? 

JOHN.  Promise  you  will  become  a  Christian,  and  you 
will  conquer. 

GALLICANUS.  I  swear  !  And  I  will  keep  my 
vow. 

ONE  OF  THE  ENEMY.  Woe  to  us,  King  Bradan  ! 
Fortune,  who  but  now  promised  us  victory,  was  mocking 
us.  Our  men  are  weakening,  their  strength  is  exhausted 
— they  have  lost  heart  and  are  giving  up  the  struggle. 

BRADAN.  I  am  uncertain  what  to  do.  A  strange  faint- 
heartedness has  seized  me  also.  There  is  but  one  course — 
we  must  surrender. 

THE  ENEMY.  There  is  nothing  else  to  do. 

BRADAN.  Gallicanus,  do  not  destroy  us  !  Be  merci- 
ful !    Spare  our  lives  and  do  with  us  what  you  will. 

GALLICANUS.  Have  no  fear.  There  is  no  need  to 
tremble.  Give  me  hostages,  acknowledge  yourselves 
tributaries  of  the  Emperor,  and  you  shall  live  happy 
under  a  Roman  peace. 

BRADAN.  You  have  only  to  name  the  number  and 
rank  of  the  hostages,  and  the  tribute  to  be  exacted. 

GALLICANUS.  Soldiers,  lay  down  arms.  Slay  no 
one,  wound  no  one,  but  embrace  as  friends  these  men 
whom  you  had  to  fight  as  enemies  of  the  Empire. 

JOHN.  How  much  more  powerful  is  one  fervent 
prayer  than  all  the  pride  of  man  ! 

GALLICANUS.  That  is  true  indeed. 


16  THE  PLAYS  OF  ROSWITHA 

PAUL.  What  mighty  succour  God  in  His  mercy 
sends  to  those  who  humbly  trust  in  Him  ! 

GALLICANUS.  I  have  had  good  proof  of  it. 

JOHN.  But  the  promise  made  when  the  storm  was 
raging  must  be  kept  now  it  is  calm. 

GALLICANUS.  I  agree.  It  is  my  wish  to  be  baptized 
as  soon  as  possible,  and  to  devote  the  rest  of  my  life  to  the 
service  of  God. 

PAUL.  You  are  right. 

SCENE  X 

GALLICANUS.  Look  !  That  vast  crowd  of  citizens 
has  gathered  to  see  our  entry  into  Rome  !  See  how  they 
flock  to  acclaim  us,  bearing  according  to  custom  the 
symbols  of  victory  ! 

JOHN.  It  is  only  natural. 

GALLICANUS.  Yet  the  glorious  victory  was  not 
won  by  my  valour  nor  by  the  help  of  their  gods. 

JOHN.  No,  assuredly ;  the  glory  belongs  to  the  one 
true  God. 

GALLICANUS.  That  being  so,  we  must  pass  the 
temples  without  going  in. 

JOHN.  A  wise  decision. 

GALLICANUS.  And  instead  make  a  humble  con- 
fession of  faith  in  the  Church  of  the  Apostles. 

PAUL.  O  happy  man  !  And  most  happy  thought ! 
In  this  you  show  yourself  a  true  Christian. 


GALLICANUS  17 

SCENE  XI 

CONSTANTINE.  I  am  greatly  astonished,  soldiers, 
that  Gallicanus  should  be  so  long  in  presenting  himself 
before  his  sovereign. 

SOLDIERS.  The  moment  he  arrived  in  Rome  he 
went  to  the  Church  of  Saint  Peter,  and,  prostrating 
himself  on  the  ground,  gave  thanks  to  the  Almighty  for 
giving  him  the  victory. 

CONST ANTINE.  Gallicanus? 

SOLDIERS.  It  is  true. 

CONSTANTINE.  Impossible  ! 

SOLDIERS.  Here  he  comes.  You  can  ask  him 
yourself. 

SCENE  XII 

CONSTANTINE.  Welcome,  Gallicanus  !  I  have 
awaited  your  arrival  with  impatience.  I  long  to  hear  from 
your  own  lips  how  the  battle  went  and  how  it  ended. 

GALLICANUS.   I  will  tell  you  the  whole  story. 

CONSTANTINE.  Wait  a  moment,  for  even  the 
batde  is  of  small  importance  compared  with  the  one 
thing  which  I  want  most  to  hear. 

GALLICANUS.  What  may  that  be  ? 

CONSTANTINE.  On  your  departure  for  the  war 
you  visited  the  temple  of  the  gods ;  on  your  return  you 
went  to  the  Church  of  the  Apostles.    Why  ? 

GALLICANUS.  You  ask  that  ? 


1 8  THE  PLAYS  OF  ROSWITHA 

CONSTANTINE.  Have  I  not  told  you,  man,  that 
I  wish  to  know  above  all  things  ! 

GALLICANUS.  I  will  explain. 

CONSTANTINE.  Proceed,  I  beg  you. 

GALLICANUS.  Most  Sacred  Emperor,  I  confess 
I  visited  the  temples  on  my  departure,  as  you  have  said, 
and  humbly  sought  the  help  of  gods  and  demons. 

CONSTANTINE.  AccordingtotheoldRomancustom. 

GALLICANUS.  To  my  thinking,  a  bad  custom. 

CONSTANTINE.  I  am  of  the  same  mind. 

GALLICANUS.  Then  the  tribunes  arrived  with 
their  legions  and  we  began  our  march. 

CONSTANTINE.  You  set  out  from  Rome  with 
great  pomp. 

GALLICANUS.  We  pushed  on,  met  the  enemy, 
engaged  them,  and  were  defeated. 

CONSTANTINE.  Romans  defeated  ! 

GALLICANUS.  Routed. 

CONSTANTINE.  When  was  such  a  disaster  ever 
known  in  our  history  ! 

GALLICANUS.  Once  again  I  offered  those  hideous 
sacrifices,  but  what  god  came  to  my  help  ?  The  fury  of 
the  enemy  redoubled,  and  great  numbers  of  my  men  were 
slain. 

CONSTANTINE.  I  am  amazed. 

GALLICANUS.  It  was  then  that  the  tribunes,  dis- 
regarding my  orders,  began  to  surrender. 

CONSTANTINE.  To  the  enemy  ? 


GALLICANUS  19 

GALLICANUS.  To  the  enemy. 

CONSTANTINE.  And  what  did  you  do  ? 

GALLICANUS.  What  could  I  do  but  take  to  flight  ? 

CONSTANTINE.  Impossible  ! 

GALLICANUS.  It  is  true. 

CONSTANTINE.  What  anguish  for  a  man  of  your 
courage  ! 

GALLICANUS.  The  sharpest. 

CONSTANTINE.  And  how  did  you  escape  ? 

GALLICANUS.  My  faithful  companions,  John  and 
Paul,  advised  me  to  make  a  vow  to  the  Creator. 

CONSTANTINE.  Good  advice. 

GALLICANUS.  I  found  it  so.  Hardly  had  I  opened 
my  lips  to  make  the  vow  than  I  received  help  from  heaven. 

CONSTANTINE.  How? 

GALLICANUS.  A  young  man  of  immense  stature 
appeared  before  me  carrying  a  cross  on  his  shoulder.  He 
bade  me  follow  him  sword  in  hand. 

CONSTANTINE.  This  young  man,  whoever  he  was, 
was  sent  from  heaven. 

GALLICANUS.  So  it  proved.  At  the  same  moment  I 
saw  at  my  side  some  soldiers  whose  faces  were  strange  to 
me.  They  promised  me  their  help. 

CONSTANTINE.  The  host  of  Heaven  ! 

GALLICANUS.  I  am  sure  of  it.  Following  in  the 
steps  of  my  guide,  I  advanced  fearlessly  into  the  midst  of 
the  enemy  until  I  came  face  to  face  with  their  King,  by 
name  Bradan.   Suddenly  overcome  by  the  strangest  terror 


20  THE  PLAYS  OF  ROSWITHA 

he  threw  himself  at  my  feet,  surrendered  with  his  whole 
army,  and  promised  to  pay  tribute  in  perpetuity  to  the 
ruler  of  the  Roman  world. 

CONST ANTINE.  Now  praise  be  to  Him  Who  gave 
us  this  victory.  Those  who  put  their  trust  in  Him  will 
never  be  confounded. 

GALLICANUS.  My  experience  witnesses  to  it. 

CONSTANTINE.  And  now  I  should  like  to  know 
what  became  of  the  treacherous  tribunes  ? 

GALLICANUS.  They  hastened  to  implore  my 
forgiveness. 

CONSTANTINE.  And  you  showed  them  mercy  ? 

GALLICANUS.  I  show  mercy  to  men  who  had 
abandoned  me  in  the  hour  of  peril  and  surrendered  to  the 
enemy  against  my  orders  !   No,  assuredly  ! 

CONSTANTINE.  What  did  you  do  ? 

GALLICANUS.  I  offered  to  pardon  them  on  one 
condition. 

CONSTANTINE.  What  condition  ? 

GALLICANUS.  I  told  them  that  those  who  con- 
sented to  become  Christians  would  be  allowed  to  retain 
their  rank,  and  might  even  receive  fresh  honours,  but  that 
those  who  refused  would  not  be  pardoned,  and  would  be 
degraded. 

CONSTANTINE.  A  fair  proposition,  and  honour- 
able to  the  leader  who  made  it. 

GALLICANUS.  For  my  own  part,  purified  in  the 
waters  of  baptism,  I  have  surrendered  myself  completely 


GALLICANUS  21 

to  the  will  of  God.  I  am  ready  to  renounce  even  your 
daughter,  whom  I  love  more  than  anything  in  the  world. 
I  wish  to  abstain  from  marriage  that  I  may  devote  myself 
wholly  to  the  service  of  the  Virgin's  Son. 

CONSTANTINE.  Come  near,  nearer  yet,  and  let  me 
fold  you  in  my  arms  !  Now,  Gallicanus,  the  time  has  come 
for  me  to  tell  you  what  up  to  now  I  have  been  obliged  to 
keep  secret. 

GALLICANUS.  What  is  it  ? 

CONSTANTINE.  My  daughter,  and  your  own  two 
also,  have  chosen  the  same  holy  path  which  you  yourself 
wish  to  follow. 

GALLICANUS.  I  rejoice  to  hear  it. 

CONSTANTINE.  Their  desire  to  keep  their  vow  of 
virginity  is  so  ardent  that  neither  entreaties  nor  threats 
can  alter  their  resolution. 

GALLICANUS.  God  help  them  to  persevere  ! 

CONSTANTINE.  Come,  let  us  go  to  their  apartments. 

GALLICANUS.  Lead  on.    I  will  follow. 

CONSTANTINE.  They  are  coming  here.  Look, 
they  hasten  to  greet  us,  and  my  glorious  mother,  noble 
Helena,  is  with  them.  They  all  weep  for  joy. 

SCENE  XIII 

GALLICANUS.  Be  at  peace,  most  holy  virgins. 
Persevere  in  the  fear  of  God,  and  preserve  untouched  the 
treasure  of  your  virginity.  Then  you  will  be  worthy  of 
the  embraces  of  the  eternal  King. 


22  THE  PLAYS  OF  ROSWITHA 

CONSTANCE.  We  shall  keep  our  vows  with  more 
joy  now  we  know  that  you  are  on  our  side. 

GALLICANUS.  Have  no  fear  that  I  shall  put  any 
obstacle  in  your  way.  Far  from  it !  I  consent  gladly,  and 
desire  nothing  better  than  to  see  you  fulfil  your  vow, 
my  Constance,  you,  for  whom  I  was  eager  to  risk  life 
itself. 

CONSTANCE.  I  see  the  hand  of  the  Most  High 
in  this  change  in  you. 

GALLICANUS.  If  I  had  not  changed,  and  for  the 
better,  I  could  never  have  consented  to  renounce  you. 

CONSTANCE.  The  Lover  of  virginal  purity  and  the 
Author  of  all  good  resolutions  .made  you  renounce  me 
because  He  had  already  claimed  me  for  His  own.  May 
He  Who  has  separated  us  in  the  body  on  earth  unite  us  in 
the  joys  of  eternity. 

GALLICANUS.  So  be  it !    So  be  it ! 

CONST ANTINE.  And  now,  since  we  are  united  in 
the  bond  of  Christ's  love,  you  shall  live  with  us  in  our 
palace,  and  be  treated  with  as  much  honour  as  though 
you  were  our  own  son. 

GALLICANUS.  What  temptation  is  to  be  feared 
more  than  the  lust  of  the  eyes  ? 

CONSTANTINE.  None,  I  know. 

GALLICANUS.  Then  is  it  right  that  I  should  see 
her  too  often  ?  As  you  know,  I  love  her  more  than  my 
own  kin,  more  than  my  life,  more  than  my  soul  ! 

CONSTANTINE.  You  must  do  what  you  think  best. 


GALLICANUS  23 

GALLICANUS.  Thanks  to  our  Lord  Christ  and  to 
my  labours,  your  army  was  never  so  strong  as  now.  Give 
me  leave,  then,  to  transfer  my  service  to  that  Emperor 
through  Whose  power  I  have  returned  victorious,  and  to 
Whom  I  owe  any  success  I  have  won  in  life. 

CONSTANT INE.  To  Him  be  praise  and  glory.  All 
creatures  should  serve  Him. 

GALLICANUS.  Above  all  those  whom  He  has 
generously  helped  in  time  of  need. 

CONST ANTINE.  That  is  true. 

GALLICANUS.  I  am  giving  to  my  daughters  the 
portion  of  my  property  which  is  theirs  by  right.  Another 
I  am  devoting  to  the  support  of  pilgrims.  With  the 
remainder  I  propose  to  enrich  my  slaves — whom  I  have 
freed — and  to  relieve  the  poor. 

CONST  ANTINE.  You  are  disposing  of  your  wealth 
wisely,  and  you  will  be  rewarded. 

GALLICANUS.  As  for  me,  I  long  to  go  to  Ostia  and 
become  the  disciple  of  the  holy  man,  Hilarion.  In  his 
brotherhood  I  hope  to  spend  the  rest  of  my  life  praising 
God  and  helping  the  poor. 

CONST  ANTINE.  May  the  Divine  Being  to  Whom 
all  things  are  possible  bring  your  plans  to  a  happy  issue  ! 
May  you  always  do  the  will  of  Him  Who  lives  and  reigns 
in  the  Unity  of  the  Trinity,  and  at  last  attain  eternal  joy  ! 

GALLICANUS.  Amen. 


GALLICANUS 

PART  II.— SCENE  I 

JULIAN.  The  cause  of  the  unrest  in  our  Empire  is 
clear  enough.  These  Christians  enjoy  too  much  liberty. 
Their  claim  that  they  obey  laws  made  in  the  time  of 
Constantine  is  false. 

CONSULS.   It  would  be  a  disgrace  to  tolerate  it. 

JULIAN.  I  do  not  intend  to  tolerate  it. 

CONSULS.  Those  words  are  worthy  of  you. 

JULIAN.  Soldiers,  arm  yourselves  and  strip  the 
Christians  of  all  they  possess.  Remind  them  of  these 
words  of  their  Christ : — "  He  who  does  not  renounce  all 
that  he  possesses  for  my  sake  cannot  be  my  disciple." 

SOLDIERS.  We  will  carry  out  your  orders  instantly. 

SCENE  II 

CONSULS.  The  soldiers  have  returned. 

JULIAN.  Is  all  well? 

SOLDIERS.  Well  indeed. 

JULIAN.  Why  have  you  returned  so  soon  ? 


GALLICANUS  25 

SOLDIERS.  We  will  tell  you.  We  had  planned 
to  seize  Gallicanus's  castle  and  occupy  it  in  your 
name.  But  no  sooner  did  one  of  us  set  foot  on  the 
threshold  than  he  was  straightway  stricken  with 
leprosy  or  madness. 

JULIAN.  Return  and  force  Gallicanus  to  quit  the 
realm  or  sacrifice  to  the  gods. 

SCENE  III 

GALLICANUS.  Do  not  waste  your  breath,  fellows. 
Your  advice  is  useless.  I  hold  all  that  exists  beneath  the 
sun  as  nothing  compared  with  eternal  life.  Banished  for 
Christ's  sake,  I  shall  retire  to  Alexandria,  where  I  hope  to 
win  the  martyr's  crown. 

SCENE  IV 

SOLDIERS.  Gallicanus,  exiled  by  your  orders,  fled  to 
Alexandria.  He  was  arrested  in  that  city  by  the  Governor, 
Ratianus,  and  has  perished  by  the  sword. 

JULIAN.  That  is  well. 

SOLDIERS.  But  John  and  Paul  still  defy  you. 

JULIAN.  What  are  they  doing  ? 

SOLDIERS.  Travelling  up  and  down  the  country 
giving  away  the  fortune  Constance  left  them. 

JULIAN.  Bring  them  before  me. 

SOLDIERS.  They  are  here. 


26  THE  PLAYS  OF  ROSWITHA 

SCENE  V 

JULIAN.  John  and  Paul,  from  the  cradle  you  have 
been  attached  to  the  Emperor's  household.  You  served 
my  predecessor. 

JOHN.  That  is  so. 

JULIAN.  Then  what  could  be  more  fitting  than  that 
you  should  serve  me  also  in  this  palace  where  you  were 
brought  up  ? 

PAUL.  We  will  not  serve  you. 

JULIAN.  You  refuse? 

JOHN.  We  have  said  it. 

JULIAN.  Do  you  deny  that  I  am  Augustus  ? 

PAUL.  No,  but  we  say  you  are  Augustus  with  a 
difference. 

JULIAN.   How  do  I  differ  from  my  predecessors  ? 

JOHN.   In  your  religion  and  your  virtue. 

JULIAN.  What  do  you  mean  ? 

PAUL.  We  mean  that  those  most  famous  and  glorious 
princes,  Constantine,  Constantius  and  Constance,  whom 
we  served,  were  very  Christian  rulers  who  were  zealous 
in  the  service  of  God. 

JULIAN.  I  know,  but  in  this  I  do  not  choose  to  follow 
their  example. 

PAUL.  You  follow  worse  examples.  They  frequented 
the  churches  and,  laying  their  diadems  on  the  ground, 
adored  Jesus  Christ  on  their  knees. 

JULIAN.  And  you  think  that  I  should  imitate  them  ? 


GALLICANUS  27 

JOHN.  You  are  not  made  of  the  same  stuff. 

PAUL.  By  doing  homage  to  the  Creator  they  elevated 
the  Imperial  dignity — yes,  they  transfigured  it  with 
the  splendour  of  their  virtue  and  their  holy  lives.  So 
they  deserved  the  success  which  crowned  their  enter- 
prises. 

JULIAN.  As  I  do. 

JOHN.  In  a  very  different  way,  for  the  divine  grace 
was  with  them. 

JULIAN.  Absurd  !  Once  I  too  was  fool  enough  to 
believe  in  these  meaningless  practices.  I  was  a  priest  of 
your  Church. 

JOHN.  Do  you  hear,  Paul  ?  How  do  you  like  this 
priest  ? 

PAUL.  Very  well — as  the  devil's  chaplain. 

JULIAN.  But  when  I  found  that  there  was  nothing 
to  be  gained  from  it,  I  turned  to  the  worship  of  the  true 
Roman  gods,  thanks  to  whom  I  have  been  raised  to  the 
highest  pinnacle  of  power. 

JOHN.  You  cut  us  short  with  this  boast  to  avoid 
hearing  the  righteous  praised. 

JULIAN.  What  is  it  to  me  ? 

PAUL.  Nothing  ;  but  we  would  add  something  which 
does  concern  you.  When  the  world  was  no  longer  worthy 
of  those  princes,  they  were  summoned  to  the  choir  of 
angels,  and  this  unhappy  realm  fell  under  your  power. 

JULIAN.  Why  unhappy  ? 

JOHN.   Because  of  the  character  of  its  ruler. 


28  THE  PLAYS  OF  ROSWITHA 

PAUL.  Have  you  not  renounced  the  true  religion  and 
adopted  the  superstitions  of  idolatry  ?  Because  of  this 
we  have  shunned  you  and  your  court. 

JULIAN.  You  show  yourselves  gready  wanting  in  the 
respect  due  to  me,  yet  I  am  ready  to  pardon  your  pre- 
sumption and  raise  you  to  the  highest  office  in  my 
palace. 

JOHN.  You  waste  your  breath,  apostate  !  We  shall 
yield  neither  to  blandishments  nor  threats. 

JULIAN.  I  will  give  you  ten  days'  grace,  in  the  hope 
that  you  will  come  to  your  senses  and  repent.  If  you  do, 
you  will  regain  our  Imperial  favour.  If  not,  I  shall  do 
what  I  have  to  do.   You  shall  not  make  a  mock  of  me. 

PAUL.  What  you  have  to  do,  do  now,  for  you  can 
never  make  us  return  either  to  your  court,  your  service,  or 
your  gods. 

JULIAN.  You  are  dismissed.  Leave  me,  but  heed  my 
warning. 

JOHN.  We  willingly  accept  the  respite  you  have 
granted  us,  but  only  that  we  may  spend  the  time  con- 
secrating all  our  faculties  to  heaven,  and  commending 
ourselves  to  God  in  prayer  and  fasting. 

PAUL.  This  is  all  we  have  to  do  now. 

SCENE  VI 

JULIAN.  Go,  Terentianus.  Take  with  you  a  few 
trusted  soldiers  and  compel  John  and  Paul  to  sacrifice  to 


GALLICANUS  29 

Jupiter.  If  they  persist  in  their  refusal,  let  them  be  put  to 
death,  not  publicly,  but  with  the  greatest  possible  secrecy, 
since  they  once  held  office  in  this  palace. 

SCENE  VII 

TERENTIANUS.  Paul  and  John,  the  Emperor 
Julian,  my  master,  of  his  clemency  sends  you  this  gold 
statue  of  Jupiter,  and  commands  you  to  burn  incense 
before  it.    Refuse,  and  you  will  be  put  to  death. 

JOHN.  Since  Julian  is  your  master,  live  at  peace  with 
him,  and  enjoy  his  favour.  But  we  have  no  master  except 
our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  for  Whose  love  we  ardently  desire 
to  die  that  we  may  the  more  quickly  taste  the  joys  of 
eternity. 

TERENTIANUS.  Soldiers,  why  do  you  delay? 
Draw  your  swords  and  strike  these  traitors  to  the  gods  and 
to  their  Emperor.  When  they  have  breathed  their  last 
bury  them  secretly  in  this  house  and  remove  every  trace 
of  blood. 

SOLDIERS.  And  if  questions  are  asked,  what  are  we 
to  say  ? 

TERENTIANUS.  Say  they  have  been  banished. 

JOHN.  To  Thee,  O  Christ,  Who  reigneth  with  the 
Father  and  the  Holy  Ghost,  one  God,  we  raise  our  voices 
in  this  dreadful  hour  !  In  death  as  in  life  we  praise  Thee. 

PAUL.  O  Christ,  receive  our  souls,  which  for  Thy 
sake  are  being  driven  from  this  dwelling  of  clay  ! 


30  THE  PLAYS  OF  ROSWITHA 

SCENE  VIII 

TERENTIANUS.  Christians,  Christians,  what  ails 
my  son  ? 

CHRISTIANS.  He  grinds  his  teeth,  foams  at  the 
mouth,  and  rolls  his  eyes  like  a  madman.  He  is  sure 
possessed  by  a  devil. 

TERENTIANUS.  Woe  to  his  father  !  Where  was 
he  stricken  ? 

CHRISTIANS.  Before  the  tomb  of  the  martyrs  John 
and  Paul.  He  writhes  on  the  ground,  and  cries  out  that 
they  are  the  cause  of  his  torments. 

TERENTIANUS.  Mine  the  fault !  Mine  the  crime  ! 
It  was  at  my  command  that  the  wretched  boy  laid  his 
impious  hands  on  those  holy  martyrs. 

CHRISTIANS.  Since  you  were  the  partner  of  his 
guilt,  it  is  right  that  you  should  share  his  sufferings. 

TERENTIANUS.  I  did  but  obey  the  wicked  com- 
mands of  my  master,  the  Emperor  Julian. 

CHRISTIANS.  He  himself  has  been  struck  down  by 
the  divine  wrath. 

TERENTIANUS.  I  know,  and  am  the  more  terrified. 
I  see  that  no  enemy  of  those  servants  of  God  can  escape 
punishment. 

CHRISTIANS.  You  are  right  there. 

TERENTIANUS.  What  if  in  expiation  of  my  crime 
I  threw  myself  on  my  knees  before  the  holy  tombs  ? 

CHRISTIANS.  You  would  win  pardon  if  you  were 
first  cleansed  by  baptism. 


GALLICANUS  31 

SCENE  IX 

TERENTIANUS.  Glorious  witnesses  of  Christ,  John 
and  Paul,  follow  the  example  and  commandment  of  your 
Master,  and  pray  for  your  persecutors.  Have  compassion 
on  the  anguish  of  a  father  who  fears  to  lose  his  child  ! 
Have  pity  on  the  sufferings  of  the  son  !  Succour  us  both, 
and  grant  that,  purified  in  the  waters  of  baptism,  we  may 
persevere  in  the  faith. 

CHRISTIANS.  Dry  your  tears,  Terentianus.  Here  is 
balm  for  your  anguish.  Look  !  Your  son  has  recovered 
his  health  and  his  reason  through  the  intercession  of  the 
martyrs. 

TERENTIANUS.  Praise  to  the  Eternal  King  Who 
covers  His  servants  with  such  glory  !  Not  only  do  their 
souls  rejoice  in  heaven,  but  in  the  depths  of  the  sepulchre 
their  lifeless  bones  work  astounding  miracles,  testifying 
to  their  sanctity  and  to  the  grace  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ 
Who  liveth  and  reigneth  ! 


DULCITIUS 

ARGUMENT 

The  martyrdom  of  the  holy  virgins  Agape,  Chionia,  and 
Irena.  The  Governor  Dulcitius  seeks  them  out  in  the 
silence  of  the  night  with  criminal  intent,  but  hardly  has 
he  entered  their  dwelling  than  he  becomes  the  victim  of  a 
delusion,  under  which  he  mistakes  for  the  objects  of  his 
passion  the  saucepans  and  frying-pans  in  the  kitchen. 
These  he  embraces  and  covers  with  kisses  until  his  face 
and  clothes  are  black  with  soot  and  dirt.  Later,  by  order 
of  Diocletian,  he  hands  the  maidens  over  to  the  care  of 
Sisinnius,  who  is  charged  with  their  punishment.  Sisin- 
nius  in  his  turn  is  made  the  sport  of  the  most  strange 
delusions,  but  at  length  succeeds  in  getting  Agape  and 
Chionia  burnt,  and  Irena  shot  to  death  with  arrows. 


CHARACTERS 

THE  EMPEROR  DIOCLETIAN. 

AGAPE. 

CHIONIA. 

IRENA. 

DULCITIUS  {Governor  of  Thessalonicd). 

SOLDIERS. 

SISINNIUS. 

WIFE  TO  DULCITIUS. 

Ushers  of  the  Imperial  Palace. 

Ladies-in-  Waiting  on  the  Wife  of  Dulcitius. 


DULCITIUS 

SCENE  I 

DIOCLETIAN.  The  pure  and  famous  race  to  which 
you  belong  and  your  own  rare  beauty  make  it  fitting  that 
you  should  be  wedded  to  the  highest  in  our  court.  Thus 
we  decree,  making  the  condition  that  you  first  promise  to 
deny  your  Christ  and  sacrifice  to  the  gods. 

AGAPE.  We  beg  you  not  to  concern  yourself  about 
us,  and  it  is  useless  to  make  preparations  for  our  marriage. 
Nothing  can  make  us  deny  that  Name  which  all  should 
confess,  or  let  our  purity  be  stained. 

DIOCLETIAN.  What  does  this  madness  mean  ? 

AGAPE.  What  sign  of  madness  do  you  see  in  us  ? 

DIOCLETIAN.  It  is  clear  enough. 

AGAPE.   In  what  way  are  we  mad  ? 

DIOCLETIAN.  Is  it  not  madness  to  give  up  prac- 
tising an  ancient  religion  and  run  after  this  silly  new 
Christian  superstition  ? 

AGAPE.  You  are  bold  to  slander  the  majesty  of 
Almighty  God.   It  is  dangerous. 

DIOCLETIAN.  Dangerous  ?     To  whom  ? 

AGAPE.  To  you,  and  to  the  state  you  rule. 


36  THE  PLAYS  OF  ROSWITHA 

DIOCLETIAN.  The  girl  raves.  Take  her  away. 

CH IONIA.  My  sister  does  not  rave.   She  is  right. 

DIOCLETIAN.  This  maenad  seems  even  more 
violent  than  the  other  !  Remove  her  also  from  our 
presence,  and  we  will  question  the  third. 

IRENA.  You  will  find  her  as  rebellious  and  as  deter- 
mined to  resist. 

DIOCLETIAN.  Irena,  you  are  the  youngest  in  years. 
Show  yourself  the  oldest  in  dignity. 

IRENA.  Pray  tell  me  how. 

DIOCLETIAN.  Bow  your  head  to  the  gods,  and  set 
an  example  to  your  sisters.  It  may  rebuke  and  save 
them. 

IRENA.  Let  those  who  wish  to  provoke  the  wrath  of 
the  Most  High  prostrate  themselves  before  idols  !  I  will 
not  dishonour  this  head  which  has  been  anointed  with 
heavenly  oil  by  abasing  it  at  the  feet  of  images. 

DIOCLETIAN.  The  worship  of  the  gods  does  not 
bring  dishonour  to  those  who  practise  it,  but,  on  the 
contrary,  the  greatest  honour. 

IRENA.  What  could  be  more  shameful  baseness,  what 
baser  shame,  than  to  venerate  slaves  as  if  they  were  lords  ? 

DIOCLETIAN.  I  do  not  ask  you  to  worship  slaves, 
but  the  gods  of  princes  and  the  rulers  of  the  earth. 

IRENA.  A  god  who  can  be  bought  cheap  in  the 
market-place,  what  is  he  but  a  slave  ? 

DIOCLETIAN.  Enough  of  this  presumptuous  chatter. 
The  rack  shall  put  an  end  to  it  ! 


DULCITIUS  37 

IRENA.  That  is  what  we  desire.  We  ask  nothing 
better  than  to  suffer  the  most  cruel  tortures  for  the  love 
of  Christ. 

DIOCLETIAN.  Let  these  obstinate  women  who 
dare  to  defy  our  authority  be  laden  with  chains  and 
thrown  into  a  dungeon.  Let  them  be  examined  by 
Governor  Dulcitius. 


SCENE  II 

DULCITIUS.  Soldiers,  produce  your  prisoners. 

SOLDIERS.  The  ones  you  wanted  to  see  are  in 
there. 

DULCITIUS.  Ye  Gods,  but  these  girls  are  beauti- 
ful !    What  grace,  what  charm  ! 

SOLDIERS.  Perfect! 

DULCITIUS.  I  am  enraptured  ! 

SOLDIERS.  No  wonder! 

DULCITIUS.  I'm  in  love  !  Do  you  think  they  will 
fall  in  love  with  me  ? 

SOLDIERS.  From  what  we  know,  you  will  have 
little  success. 

DULCITIUS.  Why? 

SOLDIERS.  Their  faith  is  too  strong. 

DULCITIUS.  A  few  sweet  words  will  work 
wonders  ! 

SOLDIERS.  They  despise  flattery. 


3  8  THE  PLAYS  OF  ROSWITHA 

DULCITIUS.  Then  I  shall  woo  in  another  fashion — 
with  torture  ! 

SOLDIERS.  They  would  not  care. 

DULCITIUS.  What's  to  be  done,  then  ? 

SOLDIERS.  That  is  for  you  to  find  out. 

DULCITIUS.  Lock  them  in  the  inner  room — the  one 
leading  out  of  the  passage  where  the  pots  and  pans  are 
kept. 

SOLDIERS.  Why  there  ? 

DULCITIUS.  I  can  visit  them  oftener. 

SOLDIERS.  It  shall  be  done. 

SCENE  III 

DULCITIUS.  What  can  the  prisoners  be  doing  at 
this  hour  of  night  ? 

SOLDIERS.  They  pass  the  time  singing  hymns. 

DULCITIUS.  Let  us  approach. 

SOLDIERS.  Now  you  can  hear  their  silver-sweet 
voices  in  the  distance. 

DULCITIUS.  Take  your  torches,  and  guard  the 
doors.   I  will  go  in  and  enjoy  myself  in  those  lovely  arms  ! 

SOLDIERS.  Enter.  We  will  wait  for  you  here. 

SCENE  IV 

AGAPE.  What  noise  is  that  outside  the  door  ? 
IRENA.   It  is  that  wretch  Dulcitius. 


DULCITIUS  39 

CHIOXIA.  Now  may  God  protect  us  ! 

AGAPE.  Amen. 

CHIONIA.  There  is  more  noise  !  It  sounds  like  the 
clashing  of  pots  and  pans  and  fire-irons. 

IRENA.  I  will  go  and  look.  Come  quick  and  peep 
through  the  crack  of  the  door  ! 

AGAPE.  What  is  it  ? 

IRENA.  Oh,  look  !  He  must  be  out  of  his  senses  ! 
I  believe  he  thinks  that  he  is  kissing  us. 

AGAPE.  What  is  he  doing  ? 

IRENA.  Now  he  presses  the  saucepans  tenderly  to 
his  breast,  now  the  kettles  and  frying-pans  !  He  is  kissing 
them  hard  ! 

CHIONIA.  How  absurd  ! 

IRENA.  His  face,  his  hands,  his  clothes  !  They  are 
all  as  black  as  soot.    He  looks  like  an  Ethiope. 

AGAPE.  I  am  glad.  His  body  should  turn  black — 
to  match  his  soul,  which  is  possessed  of  a  devil. 

IRENA.  Look  !  He  is  going  now.  Let  us  watch  the 
soldiers  and  see  what  they  do  when  he  goes  out. 

SCENE  V 

SOLDIERS.  What's  this  ?  Either  one  possessed  by 
the  devil,  or  the  devil  himself.     Let's  be  off ! 

DULCITIUS.  Soldiers,  soldiers  !  Why  do  you  hurry 
away  ?  Stay,  wait  !  Light  me  to  my  house  with  your 
torches. 


40  THE  PLAYS  OF  ROSWITHA 

SOLDIERS.  The  voice  is  our  master's  voice,  but  the 
face  is  a  devil's.  Come,  let's  take  to  our  heels  !  This 
devil  means  us  no  good. 

DULCITIUS.  I  will  hasten  to  the  palace.  I  will  tell 
the  whole  court  how  I  have  been  insulted. 

SCENE  VI 

DULCITIUS.  Ushers,  admit  me  at  once.  I  have 
important  business  with  the  Emperor. 

USHERS.  Who  is  this  fearsome,  horrid  monster  ? 
Coming  here  in  these  filthy  rags  !  Come,  let  us  beat 
him  and  throw  him  down  the  steps.  Stop  him  from 
coming  further. 

DULCITIUS.  Ye  gods,  what  has  happened  to  me  ? 
Am  I  not  dressed  in  my  best  ?  Am  I  not  clean  and 
fine  in  my  person  ?  And  yet  everyone  who  meets  me 
expresses  disgust  at  the  sight  of  me  and  treats  me  as  if 
I  were  some  foul  monster  !  I  will  go  to  my  wife.  She 
will  tell  me  the  truth.  But  here  she  comes.  Her  looks 
are  wild,  her  hair  unbound,  and  all  her  household  follow 
her  weeping. 

SCENE  VII 

WIFE  OF  DULCITIUS.  My  lord,  my  lord,  what 
evil  has  come  on  you  ?  Have  you  lost  your  reason, 
Dulcitius  ?  Have  the  Christ-worshippers  put  a  spell  on 
you  ? 


DULCITIUS  41 

DULCITIUS.  Now  at  last  I  know  !  Those  artful 
women  have  made  an  ass  of  me  ! 

WIFE  OF  DULCITIUS.  What  troubled  me  most, 
and  made  my  heart  ache,  was  that  you  should  not  know 
there  was  anything  amiss  with  you. 

DULCITIUS.  Those  impudent  wenches  shall  be 
stripped  and  exposed  naked  in  public.  They  shall  have 
a  taste  of  the  outrage  to  which  I  have  been  subjected  ! 


SCENE  VIII 

SOLDIERS.  Here  we  are  sweating  like  pigs  and 
what's  the  use  ?  Their  clothes  cling  to  their  bodies 
like  their  own  skin.  What's  more,  our  chief,  who 
ordered  us  to  strip  them,  sits  there  snoring,  and  there's 
no  way  of  waking  him.  We  will  go  to  the  Emperor 
and  tell  him  all  that  has  passed. 


SCENE  IX 

DIOCLETIAN.  I  grieve  to  hear  of  the  outrageous 
way  in  which  the  Governor  Dulcitius  has  been  insulted 
and  hoaxed  !  But  these  girls  shall  not  boast  of  having 
blasphemed  our  gods  with  impunity,  or  of  having  made 
a  mock  of  those  who  worship  them.  I  will  entrust 
the  execution  of  my  vengeance  to  Count  Sisinnius. 


42  THE  PLAYS  OF  ROSWITHA 

SCENE  X 

SISINNIUS.  Soldiers,  where  are  these  impudent 
hussies  who  are  to  be  put  to  the  torture  ? 

SOLDIERS.  In  there. 

SISINNIUS.  Keep  Irena  back,  and  bring  the  others 
here. 

SOLDIERS.  Why  is  one  to  be  treated  differently  ? 

SISINNIUS.  She  is  young,  and  besides  she  may  be 
more  easily  influenced  when  not  intimidated  by  her 
sisters. 

SOLDIERS.  That  may  be  so. 

SCENE  XI 

SOLDIERS.  We  have  brought  the  girls  you  asked  for. 

SISINNIUS.  Agape,  and  you,  Chionia,  take  my 
advice. 

AGAPE.  And  if  we  do,  what  then  ? 

SISINNIUS.  You  will  sacrifice  to  the  gods. 

AGAPE.  We  offer  a  perpetual  sacrifice  of  praise  to 
the  true  God,  the  eternal  Father,  to  His  Son,  co-eternal, 
and  to  the  Holy  Ghost. 

SISINNIUS.  I  do  not  speak  of  that  sacrifice.  That  is 
prohibited  on  pain  of  the  most  severe  penalties. 

AGAPE.  You  have  no  power  over  us,  and  can  never 
compel  us  to  sacrifice  to  demons. 

SISINNIUS.  Do  not  be  obstinate.  Sacrifice  to  the 
gods,  or  by  order  of  the  Emperor  Diocletian  I  must  put 
you  to  death. 


DULCITIUS  43 

CHIONIA.  Your  Emperor  has  ordered  you  to  put  us 
to  death,  and  you  must  obey,  as  we  scorn  his  decree. 
If  you  were  to  spare  us  out  of  pity,  you  also  would 
die. 

SISINNIUS.  Come,  soldiers!  Seize  these  blas- 
phemers and  fling  them  alive  into  the  flames. 

SOLDIERS.  We  will  build  a  pyre  at  once.  The 
fierceness  of  the  fire  will  soon  put  an  end  to  their 
insolence. 

AGAPE.  O  Lord,  we  know  Thy  power  !  It  would 
not  be  anything  strange  or  new  if  the  fire  forgot  its  nature 
and  obeyed  Thee.  But  we  are  weary  of  this  world,  and 
we  implore  Thee  to  break  the  bonds  that  chain  our  souls, 
and  to  let  our  bodies  be  consumed  that  we  may  rejoice 
with  Thee  in  heaven. 

SOLDIERS.  O  wonderful,  most  wonderful  !  Their 
spirits  have  left  their  bodies,  but  there  is  no  sign  of  any 
hurt.  Neither  their  hair,  nor  their  garments,  much  less 
their  bodies,  have  been  touched  by  the  flames  ! 

SISINNIUS.  Bring  Irena  here. 

SOLDIERS.  There  she  is. 

SCENE  XII 

SISINNIUS.  Irena,  take  warning  from  the  fate  of 
your  sisters,  and  tremble,  for  if  you  follow  their  example 
you  will  perish. 

IRENA.  I  long  to  follow  their  example,  and  to  die, 
that  I  may  share  their  eternal  joy. 


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DULCITIUS  45 

SOLDIERS.  That  is  the  only  way  to  deal  with  her. 

SISINNIUS.  Have  no  pity.  Be  rough  with  her, 
and  drag  her  to  the  lowest  brothel  you  can  find. 

IRENA.  They  will  never  take  me  there. 

SISINNIUS.  Indeed  !     What  can  prevent  them  ? 

IRENA.  The  power  that  rules  the  world. 

SISINNIUS.  We  shall  see. 

IRENA.  Yes  !     Sooner  than  you  will  like  ! 

SISINNIUS.  Soldiers,  do  not  let  the  absurd  pro- 
phecies of  this  woman  interfere  with  your  duty. 

SOLDIERS.  We  are  not  likely  to  be  frightened  by  a 
slip  of  a  girl  !   We  will  carry  out  your  orders  at  once. 

SCENE  XIII 

SISINNIUS.  Who  are  these  men  hurrying  towards 
us  ?  They  cannot  be  the  soldiers  who  took  away  Irena. 
Yet  they  resemble  them.  Yes,  these  are  the  men ! 
Why  have  you  returned  so  suddenly  ?  Why  are  you 
panting  for  breath  ? 

SOLDIERS.  We  ran  back  to  find  you. 

SISINNIUS.  Where  is  the  girl  ? 

SOLDIERS.  On  the  crest  of  the  mountain. 

SISINNIUS.  What  mountain  ? 

SOLDIERS.  The  mountain  yonder,  nearest  this 
place. 

SISINNIUS.  O  fools,  madmen  !  Have  you  lost  your 
senses  ? 


46  THE  PLAYS  OF  ROSWITHA 

SOLDIERS.  What's  the  matter?  Why  do  you 
look  at  us  so  threateningly,  and  speak  with  such 
anger  ? 

SISINNIUS.  May  the  gods  crush  you  with  their 
thunder  ! 

SOLDIERS.  What  have  we  done  ?  How  have  we 
offended  ?     We  have  only  obeyed  your  orders. 

SISINNIUS.  Fools  !  Did  I  not  tell  you  to  take  this 
rebellious  girl  to  a  brothel  ? 

SOLDIERS.  That  is  so,  but  while  we  were  on  the 
way  up  came  two  young  strangers  and  told  us  you 
had  sent  them  to  take  Irena  to  the  summit  of  the 
mountain. 

SISINNIUS.  I  learn  this  for  the  first  time  from  you. 

SOLDIERS.   So  we  see. 

SISINNIUS.  What  were  these  strangers  like  ? 

SOLDIERS.  They  were  gorgeously  dressed  and 
looked  like  people  of  rank. 

SISINNIUS.  Did  you  not  follow  them  ? 

SOLDIERS.  Yes,  we  followed  them. 

SISINNIUS.  What  did  they  do  ? 

SOLDIERS.  They  placed  themselves  one  on  each 
side  of  Irena,  and  told  us  to  hasten  and  tell  you  what  we 
had  seen. 

SISINNIUS.  Then  there  is  nothing  to  do  but  for  me 
to  mount  my  horse  and  ride  to  the  mountain  to  discover 
who  has  dared  to  play  us  this  trick. 

SOLDIERS.  We  will  come  too. 


DULCITIUS  47 

SCENE  XIV 

SISINNIUS.  What  has  happened  to  me?  These 
Christians  have  bewitched  me.  I  wander  blindly  round 
this  hill,  and  when  I  stumble  on  a  path  I  can  neither 
follow  it  nor  return  upon  my  steps. 

SOLDIERS.  We  are  all  the  sport  of  some  strange 
enchantment.  We  are  exhausted.  If  you  let  this  mad- 
woman live  an  hour  longer  it  will  be  the  death  of  us  all. 

SISINNIUS.  Take  a  bow  one  of  you,  bend  it  as 
far  as  you  can,  and  loose  a  shaft  that  shall  pierce  this 
devilish  witch. 

SOLDIERS.  That's  the  way  ! 

IRENA.  You  wretched  Sisinnius  !  Do  you  not  blush 
for  your  shameful  defeat  ?  Are  you  not  ashamed  that 
you  could  not  overcome  the  resolution  of  a  little  child 
without  resorting  to  force  of  arms  ? 

SISINNIUS.  I  accept  the  shame  gladly,  since  now 
I  am  sure  of  your  death. 

IREXA.  To  me  my  death  means  joy,  but  to  you 
calamity.  For  your  cruelty  you  will  be  damned  in 
Tartarus.  But  I  shall  receive  the  martyr's  palm,  and, 
adorned  with  the  crown  of  virgimty,  I  shall  enter  the 
azure  palace  of  the  Eternal  King,  to  Whom  be  glory 
and  honour  for  ever  and  ever  ! 


CALLIMACHUS 

ARGUMENT 

The  resurrection  of  Drusiana  and  Callimachus. 

Callimachus  cherishes  a  guilty  passion  for  Drusiana, 
not  only  while  she  is  alive  but  after  she  has  died  in  the 
Lord.  He  dies  from  the  bite  of  a  serpent,  but,  thanks 
to  the  prayers  of  Saint  John  the  Apostle,  he  is  restored  to 
life,  together  with  Drusiana,  and  is  born  again  in  Christ. 


CHARACTERS 

CALLIMACHUS. 

FRIENDS  TO  CALLIMACHUS. 

DRUSIANA. 

ANDRONICUS. 

FORTUNATUS. 

THE  APOSTLE  JOHN. 


CALLIMACHUS 

SCENE  I 

CALLIMACHUS.  My  friends,  a  word  with  you. 

FRIENDS.  We  are  at  your  service  as  long  as  you  please. 

CALLIMACHUS.  I  should  prefer  to  speak  with  you 
apart  from  the  crowd. 

FRIENDS.  What  pleases  you,  pleases  us. 

CALLIMACHUS.  Then  we  will  go  to  some  quieter 
place  where  no  one  will  interrupt  us. 

FRIENDS.  Just  as  you  like. 

SCENE  II 

CALLIMACHUS.  For  a  long  time  now  I  have  been 
in  great  trouble.  I  hope  that  by  confiding  in  you  I  shall 
find  relief. 

FRIENDS.  When  a  man  tells  his  friends  of  his  suffer- 
ings it  is  only  fair  that  they  should  try  to  share  them. 

CALLIMACHUS.  I  would  to  heaven  that  you  could 
lighten  this  load  upon  my  heart  ! 

FRIENDS.  Well,  tell  us  precisely  what  is  wrong.  We 
will  grieve  with  you,  if  we  must.  If  not,  we  can  do  our 
best  to  distract  your  mind. 


52  THE  PLAYS  OF  ROSWITHA 

CALLIMACHUS.  I  love 

FRIENDS.  What  do  you  love  ? 

CALLIMACHUS.  A  thing  of  beauty,  a  thing  of 
grace  ! 

FRIENDS.  That  is  too  vague  !  How  can  we  tell 
from  this  what  is  the  object  of  your  love  ? 

CALLIMACHUS.  Woman. 

FRIENDS.  Ah,  now  you  say  "  woman "  we  all 
understand  ! 

CALLIMACHUS.  By  woman,  I  mean  a  woman. 

FRIENDS.  Clearer  still  !  But  it  is  impossible  to 
give  an  opinion  on  a  subject  until  the  subject  is  defined. 
So  name  the  woman. 

CALLIMACHUS.  Drusiana. 

FRIENDS.  What  ?   The  wife  of  Prince  Andronicus  ? 

CALLIMACHUS.  Yes. 

FRIENDS.  Nothing  can  come  of  that.  She  has  been 
baptized. 

CALLIMACHUS.  What  do  I  care,  if  I  can  win 
her  love  ? 

FRIENDS.  You  cannot. 

CALLIMACHUS.  What  makes  you  say  so  ? 

FRIENDS.  You  are  crying  for  the  moon. 

CALLIMACHUS.  Am  I  the  first  to  do  so  ?  Have  I 
not  the  example  of  many  others  to  encourage  me  ? 

FRIENDS.  Now  listen.  This  woman  you  sigh  for 
is  a  follower  of  the  holy  Apostle  John,  and  has  devoted 
herself  entirely  to  God.     They  say  she  will  not  even  go 


CALLIMACHUS  53 

to  the  bed  of  Andronicus  although  he  is  a  devout  Christian. 
Is  it  likely  that  she  will  listen  to  you  ? 

CALLIMACHUS.  I  came  to  you  for  consolation, 
and  instead  you  drive  me  to  despair  ! 

FRIENDS.  We  should  be  poor  friends  if  we  consoled 
and  flattered  you  at  the  expense  of  the  truth. 

CALLIMACHUS.  Since  you  refuse  to  advise  me, 
I  will  go  to  her  and  pour  out  my  soul  in  words  that  would 
melt  a  heart  of  stone  ! 

FRIENDS.  Fool  !  it  is  hopeless ! 

CALLIMACHUS.   I  defy  the  stars  ! 

FRIENDS.  We  shall  see. 

SCENE  III 

CALLIMACHUS.  Drusiana,  listen  to  me  !  Drusiana, 
my  deepest  heart's  love  ! 

DRUSIANA.  Your  words  amaze  me,  Callimachus. 
What  can  you  want  of  me  ? 

CALLIMACHUS.  You  are  amazed  ? 

DRUSIANA.  I  am  astounded. 

CALLIMACHUS.  First  I  want  to  speak  of  love  ! 

DRUSIANA.  Love!    What  love? 

CALLIMACHUS.  That  love  with  which  I  love  you 
above  all  created  things. 

DRUSIANA.  Why  should  you  love  me  ?  You  are 
not  of  my  kin.     There  is  no  legal  bond  between  us. 

CALLIMACHUS.   It  is  your  beauty. 


54  THE  PLAYS  OF  ROSWITHA 

DRUSIANA.  My  beauty? 

CALLIMACHUS.  Yes. 

DRUSIANA.  What  is  my  beauty  to  you  ? 

CALLIMACHUS.  But  little  now— it  is  that  which 
tortures  me — but  I  hope  that  it  may  be  much  before 
long. 

DRUSIANA.  Not  a  word  more.  Leave  me  at  once, 
for  it  is  a  sin  to  listen  to  you  now  that  I  understand  your 
devilish  meaning. 

CALLIMACHUS.  My  Drusiana,  do  not  kill  me  with 
your  looks.  Do  not  drive  away  one  who  worships  you, 
but  give  back  love  for  love. 

DRUSIANA.  Wicked,  insidious  words  !  They  fall 
on  deaf  ears.  Your  love  disgusts  me.  Understand  I 
despise  you  ! 

CALLIMACHUS.  You  cannot  make  me  angry, 
because  I  know  that  you  would  own  my  passion  moves 
you  if  you  were  not  ashamed. 

DRUSIANA.    It  moves  me  to  indignation,  nothing  else. 

CALLIMACHUS.  That  feeling  will  not  last. 

DRUSIANA.   I  shall  not  change,  be  sure  of  that. 

CALLIMACHUS.  I  would  not  be  too  sure. 

DRUSIANA.  You  frantic,  foolish  man  !  Do  not 
deceive  yourself  !  Why  delude  yourself  with  vain  hopes  ? 
What  madness  leads  you  to  think  that  I  shall  yield  ?  I 
have  renounced  even  what  is  lawful — my  husband's  bed  ! 

CALLIMACHUS.  I  call  heaven  and  earth  to  witness 
that  if  you  do  not  yield  I  will  never  rest  from  the  fight  for 


CALLIMACHUS  55 

you.      I  will  be  as  cunning  as  the  serpent.     I  will  use 
all  my  skill  and  strength  to  trap  you. 

SCENE  IV 

DRUSIANA.  O  Lord  Jesus,  what  use  is  my  vow 
of  chastity  ?  My  beauty  has  all  the  same  made  this 
man  love  me.  Pity  my  fears,  O  Lord.  Pity  the  grief 
which  has  seized  me.  I  know  not  what  to  do.  If  I 
tell  anyone  what  has  happened,  there  will  be  disorder  in 
the  city  on  my  account ;  if  I  keep  silence,  only  Thy 
grace  can  protect  me  from  falling  into  the  net  spread  for 
me.  O  Christ,  take  me  to  Thyself.  Let  me  die  swifdy. 
Save  me  from  being  the  ruin  of  a  soul  ! 

ANDRONICUS.  Drusiana,  Drusiana  !  Christ,  what 
blow  has  fallen  on  me  !  Drusiana  is  dead.  Run  one  of 
you  and  fetch  the  holy  man  John. 

SCENE  V 

JOHN.  Why  do  you  weep,  my  son  ? 

ANDRONICUS.  Oh,  horrible  !  O  Lord,  that  life 
should  suddenly  become  so  hateful  ! 

JOHN.  What  troubles  you  ? 

ANDRONICUS.  Drusiana,  your  disciple,  Drusiana — 

JOHN.  She  has  passed  from  the  sight  of  men  ? 

ANDRONICUS.  Yes.     And  I  am  desolate. 

JOHN.  It  is  not  right  to  mourn  so  bitterly  for  those 
whose  souls  we  know  rejoice  in  peace. 


56  THE  PLAYS  OF  ROSWITHA 

ANDRONICUS.  God  knows  I  do  not  doubt  that  her 
soul  is  in  eternal  joy,  and  that  her  incorrupt  body  will 
rise  again.  What  grieves  me  so  sorely  is  that  in  my 
presence  just  now  she  prayed  for  death.  She  begged 
she  might  die. 

JOHN.  You  know  her  reason  ? 

ANDRONICUS.  I  know  it,  and  will  tell  you  when 
I  am  less  sick  with  grief. 

JOHN.  Come.  We  must  celebrate  the  funeral  rites 
with  proper  ceremony. 

ANDRONICUS.  There  is  a  marble  tomb  near  here 
in  which  the  body  shall  be  laid,  and  our  steward 
Fortunatus  shall  guard  her  grave. 

JOHN.  It  is  right  that  she  should  be  interred  with 
honour.    God  rest  her  soul  in  peace. 

SCENE  VI 

CALLIMACHUS.  Fortunatus,  Fortunatus,  what  is 
to  become  of  me  ?  Death  itself  cannot  quench  my  love 
for  Drusiana  ! 

FORTUNATUS.  Poor  wretch  ! 

CALLIMACHUS.  I  shaU  die  if  you  do  not  help  me. 

FORTUNATUS.  How  can  I  help  you  ? 

CALLIMACHUS.  In  this.  You  can  let  me  look  on 
her,  dead. 

FORTUNATUS.  Up  to  now  the  body  is  sound  and 
whole,  I  reckon  because  it  was  not  wasted  with  disease. 
As  you  know  she  was  taken  in  a  moment  by  a  fever. 


CALLIMACHUS  57 

CALLIMACHUS.  Oh,  how  happy  I  should  be  if 
I  might  see  for  myself. 

FORTUNATUS.  If  you  are  willing  to  pay  me  well, 
you  can  do  what  you  like. 

CALLIMACHUS.  Here,  take  all  I  have  with  me, 
and  be  sure  that  I  will  give  you  more,  much  more, 
later. 

FORTUNATUS.  Quick,  then  !  We'll  go  to  the  tomb. 

CALLIMACHUS.  You  cannot  go  quickly  enough 
for  me. 

SCENE  VII 

FORTUNATUS.  There  lies  the  body.  The  face  is 
not  like  the  face  of  a  corpse.  The  limbs  show  no  sign  of 
decay.     You  can  take  her  to  your  heart. 

CALLIMACHUS.  O  Drusiana,  Drusiana,  I  wor- 
shipped you  with  my  whole  soul  !  I  yearned  from  my 
very  bowels  to  embrace  you  !  And  you  repulsed  me, 
and  thwarted  my  desire.  Now  you  are  in  my  power, 
now  I  can  wound  you  with  my  kisses,  and  pour  out 
my  love  on  you. 

FORTUNATUS.  Take  care  !  A  monstrous  serpent  ! 
It  is  coming  towards  us  ! 

CALLIMACHUS.  A  curse  on  me  !  And  on  you, 
Fortunatus,  who  led  me  on  and  urged  me  to  this  infamy. 
Wretch,  may  you  die  from  the  serpent's  bite  !  Terror 
and  remorse  are  killing  me. 


58  THE  PLAYS  OF  ROSWITHA 

SCENE  VIII 

JOHN.  Come,  Andronicus,  let  us  go  to  Drusiana's 
tomb,  and  commend  her  soul  to  Christ  in  prayer. 

ANDRONICUS.  It  is  like  your  holiness  not  to  forget 
one  who  trusted  in  you. 

JOHN.  Behold  !  The  invisible  God  appears  to  us, 
made  visible  in  the  form  of  a  beautiful  youth. 

ANDRONICUS  {To  the  Spectators).  Tremble.* 

JOHN.  Lord  Jesus,  why  hast  Thou  deigned  to  manifest 
Thyself  to  Thy  servants  in  this  place  ? 

GOD.  To  raise  Drusiana  from  the  dead,  and  with 
her  him  who  lies  outside  her  tomb,  have  I  come,  that 
in  them  My  Name  may  be  glorified. 

ANDRONICUS.  How  swiftly  He  was  caught  up 
again  into  heaven  ! 

JOHN.  I  cannot  altogether  understand  what  this 
means. 

ANDRONICUS.  Let  us  go  on  to  the  tomb.  It  may 
be  that  there  what  is  now  obscure  will  become  clear. 

SCENE  IX 

JOHN.  In  Christ's  name,  what  miracle  is  this  ?  The 
sepulchre  is  open,  and  Drusiana's  body  has  been  cast 

*  This  admonition  to  "  spectators  "  is  in  the  MS.  and 
seems  inexplicable  if  Roswitha  wrote  her  plays  to  be 
read,  not  performed. 


CALLIMACHUS  59 

forth.  And  near  it  lie  two  other  corpses  enlaced  in  a 
serpent's  coils. 

ANDRONICUS.  I  begin  to  understand.  This  is 
Callimachus,  who  while  he  lived  was  consumed  with 
an  unholy  passion  for  Drusiana.  It  troubled  her  greatly 
and  her  distress  brought  on  a  fever.  She  prayed  that 
she  might  die. 

JOHN.  Such  was  her  love  of  chastity. 

ANDRONICUS.  After  her  death  the  wretched  man, 
crazed  with  love,  and  stung  by  the  defeat  of  his  wicked 
plan,  was  still  more  inflamed  by  desire. 

JOHN.   Pitiable  creature  ! 

ANDRONICUS.  I  have  no  doubt  that  he  bribed  this 
unworthy  servant  to  give  him  the  opportunity  for  com- 
mitting a  detestable  crime. 

JOHN.   It  is  not  to  be  believed  ! 

ANDRONICUS.  But  death  struck  both  of  them 
down  before  the  deed  was  accomplished. 

JOHN.  They  met  their  deserts. 

ANDRONICUS.  What  astonishes  me  most  is  that 
the  Divine  Voice  should  have  promised  the  resurrection 
of  him  who  planned  the  crime,  and  not  of  him  who  was 
only  an  accomplice.  Maybe  it  is  because  the  one, 
blinded  by  the  passion  of  the  flesh,  knew  not  what  he 
did,  while  the  other  sinned  of  deliberate  malice. 

JOHN.  With  what  wonderful  exactness  the  Supreme 
Judge  examines  the  deeds  of  men  !  How  even  the 
scales  in  which  He  weighs  the  merits  of  each  individual 


60  THE  PLAYS  OF  ROSWITHA 

man  !  None  can  understand,  none  explain.  Human 
wisdom  cannot  grasp  the  subtlety  of  the  divine  judgment. 

ANDRONICUS.  So  we  should  be  content  to  marvel 
at  it,  as  it  is  not  in  our  power  to  attain  a  precise  know- 
ledge of  the  causes  of  things. 

JOHN.  Often  the  sequel  teaches  us  to  understand 
better. 

ANDRONICUS.  Then,  blessed  John,  do  now  what 
you  were  told  to  do.  Raise  Callimachus  to  life,  and  the 
knot  of  our  perplexity  may  be  untied. 

JOHN.  First  I  must  invoke  the  name  of  Christ  to 
drive  away  the  serpent.  Then  Callimachus  shall  be 
raised. 

ANDRONICUS.  You  are  right ;  else  the  venom  of 
the  creature  might  do  him  fresh  injury. 

JOHN.  Hence,  savage  monster  !  Away  from  this  man, 
for  now  he  is  to  serve  Christ. 

ANDRONICUS.  Although  the  beast  has  no  reason, 
it  heeds  your  command. 

JOHN.  Not  through  my  power,  but  through  Christ's, 
it  obeys  me. 

ANDRONICUS.  Look  !  As  swift  as  thought  it  has 
vanished  ! 

JOHN.  O  God,  the  world  cannot  contain  nor  the 
mind  of  man  comprehend  the  wonders  of  Thy  incalcul- 
able unity,  Thou  Who  alone  art  what  Thou  art !  O  Thou 
Who  by  mingling  different  elements  canst  create  man,  and 
by  separating  those  elements  again  canst  dissolve  him, 


CALLIMACHUS  61 

grant  that  the  spirit  and  the  body  of  this  Callimachus  may 
be  joined  once  more,  and  that  he  may  rise  again  wholly 
as  he  was,  so  that  all  looking  on  him  may  praise  Thee, 
Who  alone  canst  work  miracles  ! 

ANDRONICUS.  Look  !  The  breath  of  life  stirs  in 
him  again,  but  he  does  not  move. 

JOHN.  Calhmachus  !  In  the  name  of  Christ,  arise, 
and  confess  your  sin  !  Do  not  keep  back  the  smallest 
grain  of  the  truth. 

CALLIMACHUS.  I  cannot  deny  that  I  came  here 
for  an  evil  purpose,  but  the  pangs  of  love  consumed  me. 
I  was  beside  myself. 

JOHN.  What  mad  folly  possessed  you  ?  That  you 
should  dare  think  of  such  a  shameful  outrage  to  the 
chaste  dead  ! 

CALLIMACHUS.  Yes,  I  was  mad  ;  but  this  knave 
Fortunatus  led  me  on. 

JOHN.  And  now,  most  miserable  man,  confess  ! 
Were  you  so  vile  as  to  do  what  you  desired  ? 

CALLIMACHUS.  No !  I  could  think  of  it,  but  I 
could  not  do  it. 

JOHN.  What  prevented  you  ? 

CALLIMACHUS.  I  had  hardly  touched  the  lifeless 
body — I  had  hardly  drawn  aside  the  shroud,  when  that 
fellow  there,  who  has  been  the  spark  to  my  fire,  died  from 
the  serpent's  poison. 

ANDRONICUS.  A  good  riddance  ! 

CALLIMACHUS.  At     the     same     moment     there 


62  THE  PLAYS  OF  ROSWITHA 

appeared  to  me  a  young  man,  beautiful  yet  terrible,  who 
reverently  covered  the  corpse  again.  From  his  flaming 
face  and  breast  burning  coals  flew  out,  and  one  of  them, 
falling  on  me,  touched  my  face.  I  heard  a  voice  say, 
"  Callimachus,  die  to  live  !  "  It  was  then  I  breathed 
my  last. 

JOHN.  Oh,  heavenly  grace  !  God  delights  not  in  the 
damnation  of  the  wicked. 

CALLIMACHUS.  You  have  heard  the  dreadful  tale 
of  my  temptation.  I  beg  you  not  to  delay  the  merciful 
remedy. 

JOHN.   I  will  not  delay  it. 

CALLIMACHUS.  I  am  overwhelmed  by  the  thought 
of  my  abominable  crime.  I  repent  with  my  whole 
heart,  and  bewail  my  sin. 

JOHN.  That  is  but  right,  for  a  great  fault  must  be 
atoned  for  by  a  great  repentance. 

CALLIMACHUS.  Oh,  if  I  could  lay  bare  my  heart 
and  show  you  the  bitter  anguish  I  suffer,  you  would 
pity  me  ! 

JOHN.  Not  so.  Rather  does  your  suffering  fill  me 
with  joy,  for  I  know  that  it  will  be  your  salvation. 

CALLIMACHUS.  I  loathe  the  delights  of  the  flesh, 
and  all  the  sins  of  my  past  life. 

JOHN.  That  is  well. 

CALLIMACHUS.  I  truly  repent  my  foul  deed. 

JOHN.  Again  that  is  well. 

CALLIMACHUS.  I   am   filled   with  such   remorse 


CALLLMACHUS  63 

that  I  have  no  desire  to  live  unless  I  can  be  born  again 
in  Christ  and  changed. 

JOHN.  I  do  not  doubt  that  heavenly  grace  is  at  work 
in  you. 

CALLIMACHUS.  Oh,  hasten  then  to  help  a  man  in 
dire  need  !  Give  me  some  comfort !  Help  me  to  throw 
off  the  grief  which  crushes  me  !  Show  me  how  a  Pagan 
may  change  into  a  Christian,  a  fornicator  into  a  chaste 
man  !  Oh,  set  my  feet  on  the  way  of  truth  !  Teach 
me  to  live  mindful  of  the  divine  promises  ! 

JOHN.  Now  blessed  be  the  only  Son  of  God,  Who 
made  Himself  partaker  of  our  frailty,  and  showed  you 
mercy,  my  son  Callimachus,  by  striking  you  down  with 
the  death  which  has  brought  you  to  the  true  life.  So  has 
He  saved  the  creature  He  made  in  His  own  image  from 
the  death  of  the  soul. 

ANDRONICUS.  Most  strange,  most  wonderful 
miracle  ! 

JOHN.  O  Christ,  redemption  of  the  world,  and 
sinners'  atonement,  I  have  no  words  to  praise  Thee  !  The 
sweetness  of  Thy  compassion  amazes  me.  Now  Thou 
dost  win  the  sinner  with  gentleness,  now  Thou  dost 
chastise  him  with  just  severity,  and  callest  on  him  to  do 
penance. 

ANDRONICUS.  Glory  to  His  divine  goodness  ! 

JOHN.  Who  would  have  presumed  to  hope  that  a 
man  like  this,  intent  on  a  wicked  deed  when  death  over- 
took him,  would  be  raised  to  life  again,  and  given  the 


64  THE  PLAYS  OF  ROSWITHA 

chance  of  making  reparation  !  Blessed  be  Thy  name  for 
ever  and  ever,  O  Thou  Who  alone  canst  do  these 
wondrous  things  ! 

ANDRONICUS.  Holy  John,  give  me  some  comfort 
too.  The  love  I  bear  my  dead  wife  will  not  let  me 
rest  until  I  have  seen  her  also  called  back  from  the  dead. 

JOHN.  Drusiana,  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ  calls  you 
back  to  life  ! 

DRUSIANA.  Glory  and  praise  to  Thee,  O  Lord,  Who 
hast  made  me  live  again  ! 

CALLIMACHUS.  Thanks  be  to  that  merciful  power, 
my  Drusiana,  through  which  you,  who  left  this  life  in 
such  sorrow,  rise  again  in  joy  ! 

DRUSIANA.  Venerable  father  John,  you  have 
restored  to  life  Callimachus,  who  loved  me  sinfully. 
Should  you  not  also  raise  from  the  dead  the  man  who 
betrayed  my  buried  body  ? 

CALLIMACHUS.  Apostle  of  Christ,  do  not  believe 
it !  Will  you  release  from  the  fetters  of  death  this  evil 
creature,  this  traitor,  who  led  me  away  and  persuaded  me 
to  venture  on  that  horrible  deed  ? 

JOHN.  You  should  not  wish  to  deprive  him  of 
divine  mercy,  my  son. 

CALLIMACHUS.  He  tried  to  ruin  me!  He  is 
not  worthy  of  resurrection  ! 

JOHN.  We  are  taught  by  our  faith  that  man  must 
forgive  his  fellow-man  if  he  would  be  forgiven  by 
God. 


CALLIMACHUS  65 

ANDRONICUS.  That  is  true. 

JOHN.  Remember  that  when  the  only  Son  of  God, 
the  Virgin's  first-born,  the  one  man  born  without  a  stain, 
came  into  this  world,  He  found  us  all  bowed  under  the 
heavy  weight  of  sin. 

ANDRONICUS.  True  again. 

JOHN.  And  though  not  one  of  us  was  guildess,  He 
deprived  no  one  of  His  mercy,  but  offered  Himself  for 
all,  and  for  all  laid  down  His  life  in  love. 

ANDRONICUS.  Had  the  Innocent  One  not  been 
slain,  none  of  us  would  have  been  saved. 

JOHN.  He  cannot  rejoice  in  the  damnation  of  those 
whom  He  bought  with  His  blood. 

ANDRONICUS.  To  Him  be  praise  ! 

JOHN.  This  is  why  we  must  not  grudge  the  grace  of 
God  to  anyone.  It  is  no  merit  of  ours  if  it  abounds  in 
ourselves. 

CALLIMACHUS.  Your  rebuke  makes  me  ashamed. 

JOHN.  Yet  it  is  not  for  me  to  oppose  you.  Drusiana, 
inspired  by  God  Himself  shall  raise  this  man. 

DRUSIANA.  Divine  Essence  without  material  form, 
Who  hast  made  man  in  Thine  own  image  and  breathed 
into  this  clay  the  spirit  of  life,  bring  back  the  vital  heat  to 
the  body  of  Fortunatus,  that  our  triple  resurrection  may 
glorify  the  adorable  Trinity. 

JOHN.  Amen. 

DRLTSIANA.  Fortunatus,  awake,  and  in  the  name  of 
Christ  burst  the  bonds  of  death. 


66  THE  PLAYS  OF  ROSWITHA 

FORTUNATUS.  Who  wakes  me  ?  Who  takes  my 
hand  ?   Who  calls  me  back  to  life  ? 

JOHN.  Drusiana. 

FORTUNATUS.  How  can  that  be  ?  Only  a  few 
days  since  she  died. 

JOHN.  Yes,  but  now,  through  the  power  of  Christ, 
she  lives  again. 

FORTUNATUS.  And  is  that  Callimachus  who 
stands  there  ?  By  his  sober  and  pious  look  one  would 
think  he  is  no  longer  dying  of  love  for  his  Drusiana  ! 

JOHN.  All  that  is  changed.  Now  he  loves  and  serves 
Christ. 

FORTUNATUS.  No! 

JOHN.  It  is  true. 

FORTUNATUS.  If  it  is  as  you  say,  if  Drusiana  has 
restored  me  to  life  and  Callimachus  believes  in  Christ, 
I  reject  life  and  choose  death.  I  would  rather  not  exist 
than  see  them  swelling  with  grace  and  virtue  ! 

JOHN.  Oh,  incredible  envy  of  the  devil  !  Oh,  malice 
of  the  old  serpent,  who  since  he  made  our  first  parents 
taste  death  has  never  ceased  to  writhe  at  the  glory  of  the 
righteous  !  Oh,  Fortunatus,  brimful  of  Satan's  bitter 
gall,  how  much  do  you  resemble  the  rotten  tree  that, 
bearing  only  bad  fruit,  must  be  cut  down  and  cast  into 
the  fire  !  To  the  fire  you  must  go,  where,  deprived  of  the 
society  of  those  who  fear  God,  you  will  be  tormented 
without  respite  for  ever. 

ANDRONICUS.  Look  !     Oh,   look  !     His   wounds 


CALLIMACHUS  67 

have  opened  again.     He  has  been  taken  at  his  word.     He 
is  dying. 

JOHN.  Let  him  die  and  go  down  to  hell,  who  through 
envious  spite  rejected  the  gift  of  life. 

ANDRONICUS.  A  terrible  fate. 

JOHN.  Nothing  is  more  terrible  than  envy,  nothing 
more  evil  than  pride. 

ANDRONICUS.  Both  are  vile. 

JOHN.  The  man  who  is  the  victim  of  one  is  the 
victim  of  the  other,  for  they  have  no  separate  existence. 

ANDRONICUS.  Please  explain. 

JOHN.  The  proud  are  envious,  and  the  envious  are 
proud.  A  jealous  man  cannot  endure  to  hear  others 
praised,  and  seeks  to  belitde  those  who  are  more  perfect. 
He  disdains  to  take  a  lower  place,  and  arrogantly  seeks  to 
be  put  above  his  equals. 

ANDRONICUS.  That  is  clear. 

JOHN.  This  wretched  man's  pride  was  wounded. 
He  could  not  endure  the  humiliation  of  recognizing  his 
inferiority  to  these  two  in  whom  he  could  not  deny  God 
had  made  more  grace  to  shine. 

ANDRONICUS.  I  understand  now  why  his  resurrec- 
tion was  not  spoken  of.  It  was  known  he  would  die 
again 

JOHN.  He  deserved  to  die  twice,  for  to  his  crime  of 
profaning  the  sacred  grave  entrusted  to  him,  he  added 
hatred  and  envy  of  those  who  had  been  restored  to  life. 

ANDRONICUS.  The  wretched  creature  is  dead  now. 


68  THE  PLAYS  OF  ROSWITHA 

JOHN.  Come,  let  us  go— Satan  must  have  his  own. 
This  day  shall  be  kept  as  a  festival  in  thanksgiving  for  the 
wonderful  conversion  of  Callimachus.  Men  shall  long 
speak  of  it,  and  of  his  resurrection  from  the  dead,  and  of 
Drusiana,  on  whom  his  love  brought  misery.  Let  us 
give  thanks  to  God,  that  just  and  penetrating  Judge  Who 
alone  can  search  the  heart  and  reins  and  reward  or  punish 
fairly.  To  Him  alone  be  honour,  strength,  glory,  praise, 
and  blessing,  world  without  end.     Amen. 


K*\ 


ABRAHAM 

ARGUMENT 

The  fall  and  repentance  of  Mary,  the  niece  of  the  hermit 
Abraham,  who,  after  she  has  spent  twenty  years  in  the 
religious  life  as  a  solitary,  abandons  it  in  despair,  and, 
returning  to  the  world,  does  not  shrink  from  becoming 
a  harlot.  But  two  years  later  Abraham,  in  the  disguise 
of  a  lover,  seeks  her  out  and  reclaims  her.  For  twenty 
years  she  does  penance  for  her  sins  with  many  tears, 
fastings,  vigils,  and  prayers. 


CHARACTERS 

ABRAHAM. 

EPHREM. 

MARY. 

A  FRIEND  TO  ABRAHAM. 

AN  INN-KEEPER. 


ABRAHAM 

SCENE  I 

ABRAHAM.  Brother  Ephrem,  my  dear  comrade  in 
the  hermit  life,  may  I  speak  to  you  now,  or  shall  I  wait 
until  you  have  finished  your  divine  praises  ? 

EPHREM.  And  what  can  you  have  to  say  to  me  which 
is  not  praise  of  Him  Who  said  :  "  Where  two  or  three  are 
gathered  together  in  My  Name,  I  am  with  them  "  ? 

ABRAHAM.  I  have  not  come  to  speak  of  anything 
which  He  would  not  like  to  hear. 

EPHREM.  I  am  sure  of  it.     So  speak  at  once. 

ABRAHAM.  It  concerns  a  decision  I  have  to  make. 
I  long  for  your  approval. 

EPHREM.  We  have  one  heart  and  one  soul.  We 
ought  to  agree. 

ABRAHAM.  I  have  a  little  niece  of  tender  years. 
She  has  lost  both  her  parents,  and  my  affection  for  her  has 
been  deepened  by  compassion  for  her  lonely  state.  I  am 
in  constant  anxiety  on  her  account. 

EPHREM.  Ought  you  who  have  triumphed  over  the 
world  to  be  vexed  by  its  cares  ! 


72  THE  PLAYS  OF  ROSWITHA 

ABRAHAM.  My  only  care  is  her  radiant  beauty  ! 
What  if  it  should  one  day  be  dimmed  by  sin. 

EPHREM.  No  one  can  blame  you  for  being  anxious. 

ABRAHAM.  I  hope  not. 

EPHREM.  How  old  is  she? 

ABRAHAM.  At  the  end  of  this  year  she  will  be 
eight. 

EPHREM.  She  is  very  young. 

ABRAHAM.  That  does  not  lessen  my  anxiety. 

EPHREM.  Where  does  she  live  ? 

ABRAHAM.  At  my  hermitage  now ;  for  at  the 
request  of  her  other  kinsfolk  I  have  undertaken  to  bring 
her  up.  The  fortune  left  her  ought,  I  think,  to  be 
given  to  the  poor. 

EPHREM.  A  mind  taught  so  early  to  despise  temporal 
things  should  be  fixed  on  heaven. 

ABRAHAM.  I  desire  with  all  my  heart  to  see  her 
the  spouse  of  Christ  and  devoted  entirely  to  His  service. 

EPHREM.  A  praiseworthy  wish. 

ABRAHAM.  I  was  inspired  by  her  name. 

EPHREM.  What  is  she  called  ? 

ABRAHAM.  Mary. 

EPHREM.  Mary !  Such  a  name  ought  to  be 
adorned  with  the  crown  of  virginity. 

ABRAHAM.  I  have  no  fear  that  she  will  be  unwilling, 
but  we  must  be  gentle. 

EPHREM.  Come,  let  us  go,  and  impress  on  her  that 
no  life  is  so  sweet  and  secure  as  the  religious  one. 


ABRAHAM  73 


SCENE  II 


ABRAHAM.  Mary,  my  child  by  adoption,  whom  I 
love  as  my  own  soul  !  Listen  to  my  advice  as  to  a  father's, 
and  to  Brother  Ephrem's  as  that  of  a  very  wise  man. 
Strive  to  imitate  the  chastity  of  the  holy  Virgin  whose 
name  you  bear. 

EPHREM.  Child,  would  it  not  be  a  shame  if  you, 
who  through  the  mystery  of  your  name  are  called  to 
mount  to  the  stars  where  Mary  the  mother  of  God 
reigns,  chose  instead  the  low  pleasures  of  the  earth  ? 

MARY.  I  know  nothing  about  the  mystery  of  my 
name,  so  how  can  I  tell  what  you  mean  ? 

EPHREM.  Mary,  my  child,  means  "  star  of  the  sea  " 
— that  star  which  rules  the  world  and  all  the  peoples  in 
the  world. 

MARY.  Why  is  it  called  the  star  of  the  sea  ? 

EPHREM.  Because  it  never  sets,  but  shines  always 
in  the  heavens  to  show  mariners  their  right  course. 

MARY.  And  how  can  such  a  poor  thing  as  I  am — 
made  out  of  slime,  as  my  uncle  says — shine  like  my 
name  ? 

EPHREM.  By  keeping  your  body  unspotted,  and 
your  mind  pure  and  holy. 

MARY.  It  would  be  too  great  an  honour  for  any 
human  being  to  become  like  the  stars. 

EPHREM.  If  you  choose  you  can  be  as  the  angels  of 


74  THE  PLAYS  OF  ROSWITHA 

God,  and  when  at  last  you  cast  off  the  burden  of  this 
mortal  body  they  will  be  near  you.  With  them  you  will 
pass  through  the  air,  and  walk  on  the  sky.  With  them 
you  will  sweep  round  the  zodiac,  and  never  slacken  your 
steps  until  the  Virgin's  Son  takes  you  in  His  arms  in  His 
mother's  dazzling  bridal  room  ! 

MARY.  Who  but  an  ass  would  think  little  of  such 
happiness  !  So  I  choose  to  despise  the  things  of  earth, 
and  deny  myself  now  that  I  may  enjoy  it  ! 

EPHREM.  Out  of  the  mouths  of  babes  and  sucklings  ! 
A  childish  heart,  but  a  mature  mind  ! 

ABRAHAM.  God  be  thanked  for  it  ! 

EPHREM.  Amen  to  that. 

ABRAHAM.  But  though  by  God's  grace  she  has  been 
given  the  light,  at  her  tender  age  she  must  be  taught  how 
to  use  it. 

EPHREM.  You  are  right. 

ABRAHAM.  I  will  build  her  a  little  cell  with  a 
narrow  entrance  near  my  hermitage.  I  can  visit  her 
there  often,  and  through  the  window  instruct  her  in  the 
psalter  and  other  pages  of  the  divine  law. 

EPHREM.  That  is  a  good  plan. 

MARY.  I  put  myself  under  your  direction,  Father 
Ephrem. 

EPHREM.  My  daughter  !  May  the  Heavenly 
Bridegroom  to  Whom  you  have  given  yourself  in  the 
tender  bud  of  your  youth  shield  you  from  the  wiles  of 
the  devil  ! 


ABRAHAM  75 

SCENE  III 

ABRAHAM.  Brother  Ephrem,  Brother  Ephrem  ! 
When  anything  happens,  good  or  bad,  it  is  to  you  I 
turn.  It  is  your  counsel  I  seek.  Do  not  turn  your  face 
away,  brother — do  not  be  impatient,  but  help  me. 

EPHREM.  Abraham,  Abraham,  what  has  come  to 
you  ?  What  is  the  cause  of  this  immoderate  grief  ? 
Ought  a  hermit  to  weep  and  groan  after  the  manner  of 
the  world  ? 

ABRAHAM.  Was  any  hermit  ever  so  stricken  ?  I 
cannot  bear  my  sorrow. 

EPHREM.  Brother,  no  more  of  this.  To  the  point ; 
what  has  happened  ? 

ABRAHAM.  Mary  !  Mary  !  my  adopted  child  ! 
Mary,  whom  I  cared  for  so  lovingly  and  taught  with  all 
my  skill  for  ten  years  !     Mary 

EPHREM.  Well,  what  is  it  ? 

ABRAHAM.  Oh  God  !     She  is  lost ! 

EPHREM.  Lost  ?     What  do  you  mean  ? 

ABRAHAM.  Most  miserably.  Afterwards  she  ran 
away. 

EPHREM.  But  by  what  wiles  did  the  ancient  enemy 
bring  about  her  undoing  ? 

ABRAHAM.  By  the  wiles  of  false  love.  Dressed  in 
a  monk's  habit,  the  hypocrite  went  to  see  her  often.  He 
succeeded  in  making  the  poor  ignorant  child  love  him. 
She  leapt  from  the  window  of  her  cell  for  an  evil  deed. 


76  THE  PLAYS  OF  ROSWITHA 

EPHREM.  I  shudder  as  I  listen  to  you. 

ABRAHAM.  When  the  unhappy  girl  knew  that  she 
was  ruined,  she  beat  her  breast  and  dug  her  nails  into  her 
face.  She  tore  her  garments,  pulled  out  her  hair.  Her 
despairing  cries  were  terrible  to  hear. 

EPHREM.  I  am  not  surprised.  For  such  a  fall  a 
whole  fountain  of  tears  should  rise. 

ABRAHAM.  She  moaned  out  that  she  could  never  be 
the  same 

EPHREM.  Poor,  miserable  girl  ! 

ABRAHAM.  And  reproached  herself  for  having  for- 
gotten our  warning. 

EPHREM.  She  might  well  do  so. 

ABRAHAM.  She  cried  that  all  her  vigils,  prayers, 
and  fasts  had  been  thrown  away. 

EPHREM.  If  she  perseveres  in  this  penitence  she 
will  be  saved. 

ABRAHAM.  She  has  not  persevered.  She  has  added 
worse  to  her  evil  deed. 

EPHREM.  Oh,  this  moves  me  to  the  depths  of  my 
heart  ! 

ABRAHAM.  After  all  these  tears  and  lamentations 
she  was  overcome  by  remorse,  and  fell  headlong  into  the 
abyss  of  despair. 

EPHREM.  A  bitter  business ! 

ABRAHAM.  She  despaired  of  being  able  to  win 
pardon,  and  resolved  to  go  back  to  the  world  and  its 
vanities. 


ABRAHAM  77 

EPHREM.  I  cannot  remember  when  the  devil  could 
boast  of  such  a  triumph  over  the  hermits. 

ABRAHAM.  Now  we  are  at  the  mercy  of  the 
demons. 

EPHREM.  I  marvel  that  she  could  have  escaped 
without  your  knowledge. 

ABRAHAM.  If  I  had  not  been  so  blind  !  I  ought 
to  have  paid  more  heed  to  that  terrible  vision.  Yes,  I  see 
now  that  it  was  sent  to  warn  me. 

EPHREM.  What  vision? 

ABRAHAM.  I  dreamed  I  was  standing  at  the  door 
of  my  cell,  and  that  a  huge  dragon  with  a  loathsome  stench 
rushed  violendy  towards  me.  I  saw  that  the  creature 
was  attracted  by  a  little  white  dove  at  my  side.  It 
pounced  on  the  dove,  devoured  it,  and  vanished. 

EPHREM.  There  is  no  doubt  what  this  vision  meant. 

ABRAHAM.  When  I  woke  I  turned  over  in  my  mind 
what  I  had  seen,  and  took  it  as  a  sign  of  some  persecution 
threatening  the  Church,  through  which  many  of  the 
faithful  would  be  drawn  into  error.  I  prostrated  myself 
in  prayer,  and  implored  Him  Who  knows  the  future  to 
enlighten  me. 

EPHREM.  You  did  right. 

ABRAHAM.  On  the  third  night  after  the  vision, 
when  for  weariness  I  had  fallen  asleep,  I  saw  the  beast 
again,  but  now  it  was  lying  dead  at  my  feet,  and  the 
dove  was  flying  heavenwards  safe  and  unhurt. 

EPHREM.   I  am  rejoiced  to  hear  this,   for  to  my 


78  THE  PLAYS  OF  ROSWITHA 

thinking    it    means    that    some    day   Mary    will    return 
to  you. 

ABRAHAM.  I  was  trying  to  get  rid  of  the  uneasiness 
with  which  the  first  vision  had  filled  me  by  thinking  of 
the  second,  when  my  little  pupil  in  her  cell  came  to  my 
mind.  I  remembered,  although  at  the  time  I  was  not 
alarmed,  that  for  two  days  I  had  not  heard  her  chanting 
the  divine  praises. 

EPHREM.  You  were  too  tardy  in  noticing  this. 

ABRAHAM.  I  admit  it.  I  went  at  once  to  her  cell, 
and,  knocking  at  the  window,  I  called  her  again  and  again, 
"  Mary  !     My  child  !     Mary  !  " 

EPHREM.  You  called  in  vain  ? 

ABRAHAM.  "  Mary,"  I  said.  "  Mary,  my  child, 
what  is  wrong  ?  Why  are  you  not  saying  your  office  ?  " 
It  was  only  when  I  did  not  hear  the  faintest  sound  that 
I  suspected. 

EPHREM.  What  did  you  do  then  ? 

ABRAHAM.  When  I  could  no  longer  doubt  that  she 
had  gone,  I  was  struck  with  fear  to  my  very  bowels.  I 
trembled  in  every  limb. 

EPHREM.  I  do  not  wonder,  since  I,  hearing  of  it, 
find  myself  trembling  all  over. 

ABRAHAM.  Then  I  wept  and  cried  out  to  the  empty 
air,  "  What  wolf  has  seized  my  lamb  ?  What  thief  has 
stolen  my  little  daughter  ?  " 

EPHREM.  You  had  good  cause  to  weep  !  To  lose 
her  whom  you  had  cherished  so  tenderly  ! 


ABRAHAM  79 

ABRAHAM.  At  last  some  people  came  up  who  knew 
what  had  happened.  From  them  I  learned  that  she  had 
gone  back  to  the  world. 

EPHREM.  Where  is  she  now  ? 

ABRAHAM.  No  one  knows. 

EPHREM.  What  is  to  be  done  ? 

ABRAHAM.  I  have  a  faithful  friend,  who  is  searching 
all  the  cities  and  towns  in  the  country.  He  says  he  will 
never  give  up  until  he  finds  her. 

EPHREM.  And  if  he  finds  her— what  then  ? 

ABRAHAM.  Then  I  shall  change  these  clothes,  and 
in  the  guise  of  a  worldling  seek  her  out.  It  may  be  that 
she  will  heed  what  I  say,  and  even  after  this  shipwreck 
turn  again  to  the  harbour  of  her  innocence  and  peace. 

EPHREM.  And  suppose  that  in  the  world  they  offer 
you  flesh  meat  and  wine  ? 

ABRAHAM.  If  they  do,  I  shall  not  refuse;  otherwise 
I  might  be  recognized. 

EPHREM.  No  one  will  blame  you,  brother.  It  will 
be  but  praiseworthy  discretion  on  your  part  to  loosen  the 
bridle  of  strict  observance  for  the  sake  of  bringing  back 
a  soul. 

ABRAHAM.  I  am  the  more  eager  to  try  now  I  know 
you  approve. 

EPHREM.  He  Who  knows  the  secret  places  of  the 
heart  can  tell  with  what  motive  every  action  is  done. 
That  scrupulous  and  fair  Judge  will  not  condemn  a  man 
for  relaxing  our  strict  rule  for  a  time  and  descending  to 


80  THE  PLAYS  OF  ROSWITHA 

the  level  of  weaker  mortals  if  by  so  doing  he  can  make  more 
sure  of  rescuing  an  errant  soul. 

ABRAHAM.  Help  me  with  your  prayers.  Pray  that 
I  may  not  be  caught  in  the  snares  of  the  devil. 

EPHREM.  May  He  Who  is  supreme  good  itself, 
without  Whom  no  good  thing  can  be  done,  bless  your 
enterprise  and  bring  it  to  a  happy  end  ! 

SCENE  IV 

ABRAHAM.  Can  that  be  my  friend  who  two  years 
ago  went  to  search  for  Mary  ?     Yes,  it  is  he  ! 

FRIEND.  Good-day,  venerable  father. 

ABRAHAM.  Good-day,  dear  friend.  I  have  waited 
so  long  for  you.      Of  late  I  had  begun  to  despair. 

FRIEND.  Forgive  me,  father.  I  delayed  my  return 
because  I  did  not  wish  to  mock  you  with  doubtful  and 
unreliable  news.  As  soon  as  I  had  discovered  the  truth 
I  lost  no  time. 

ABRAHAM.  You  have  seen  Mary  ? 

FRIEND.  I  have  seen  her. 

ABRAHAM.  Where  is  she  ?  Come,  sir,  speak  !  Tell 
me  where. 

FRIEND.  It  goes  to  my  heart  to  tell  you. 

ABRAHAM.  Speak — I  implore  you. 

FRIEND.  She  lives  in  the  house  of  a  man  who  trades  in 
the  love  of  young  girls  like  her.  A  profitable  business,  for 
every  day  he  makes  a  large  sum  of  money  out  of  her  lovers. 


ABRAHAM  81 

ABRAHAM.  Her  lovers  ?     Mary's  lovers  ? 

FRIEND.  Yes. 

ABRAHAM.  Who  are  they  ? 

FRIEND.  There  are  plenty  of  them. 

ABRAHAM.  Good  Jesu,  what  is  this  monstrous  thing 
I  hear  ?  Do  they  say  that  she,  whom  I  brought  up  to  be 
Thy  bride,  gives  herself  to  strange  lovers  ? 

FRIEND.   It  comes  naturally  to  harlots. 

ABRAHAM.  If  you  are  my  friend,  get  me  a  saddle- 
horse  somewhere  and  a  soldier's  dress.  I  am  going  to 
get  into  that  place  as  a  lover. 

FRIEND.   Father,  mine  are  at  your  service. 

ABRAHAM.  And  I  must  borrow  a  felt  hat  to  cover 
my  tonsure. 

FRIEND.  That  is  most  necessary,  if  you  do  not  want 
to  be  recognized. 

ABRAHAM.  I  have  one  gold  piece.  Should  I  take 
it  to  give  this  man  ? 

FRIEND.  You  should,  for  otherwise  he  will  never 
let  you  see  Mary. 

SCENE  V 

ABRAHAM.  Good-day,  friend. 

INN-KEEPER.  Who's  there?  Good-day,  Sir. 
Come  in  ! 

ABRAHAM.  Have  you  a  bed  for  a  traveller  who  wants 
to  spend  a  night  here  ? 

c 


82  THE  PLAYS  OF  ROSWITHA 

INN-KEEPER.  Why  certainly  !  I  never  turn  any- 
one away. 

ABRAHAM.  I  am  glad  of  it. 

INN-KEEPER.  Come  in  then,  and  I  will  order  supper 
for  you. 

ABRAHAM.  I  owe  you  thanks  for  this  kind  welcome, 
but  I  have  a  greater  favour  to  ask. 

INN-KEEPER.  Ask  what  you  like.  I  will  do  my 
best  for  you. 

ABRAHAM.  Accept  this  small  present.  May  the 
beautiful  girl  who,  I  am  told,  lives  here,  have  supper  with 
me  ? 

INN-KEEPER.  Why  should  you  wish  to  see  her  ? 

ABRAHAM.  It  would  give  me  much  pleasure.  I 
have  heard  so  much  talk  of  her  beauty. 

INN-KEEPER.  Whoever  has  spoken  to  you  of  her  has 
told  only  the  truth.  It  would  be  hard  to  find  a  finer  wench. 

ABRAHAM.  I  am  in  love  with  her  already. 

INN-KEEPER.  It's  queer  that  an  old  man  like  you 
should  dangle  after  a  young  girl. 

ABRAHAM.  I  swear  I  came  here  on  purpose  to  feast 
my  eyes  on  her. 


SCENE  VI 

INN-KEEPER.  Mary,    come    here !     Come    along 
now  and  show  off  your  charms  to  this  young  innocent  ! 
MARY.   I  am  coming. 


ABRAHAM  83 

ABRAHAM.  Oh,  mind,  be  constant !  Tears,  do  not 
fall  !  Must  I  look  on  her  whom  I  brought  up  in  the 
desert,  decked  out  with  a  harlot's  face  ?  Yes,  I  must  hide 
what  is  in  my  heart.  I  must  strive  not  to  weep,  and  smile 
though  my  heart  is  breaking. 

INX-KEEPER.  Luck  comes  your  way,  Mary  !  Not 
only  do  young  gallants  of  your  own  age  flock  to  your  arms, 
but  even  the  wise  and  venerable  ! 

MARY.  It  is  all  one  to  me.  It  is  my  business  to  love 
those  who  love  me. 

ABRAHAM.   Come  nearer,  Mary,  and  give  me  a  kiss. 

MARY.  I  will  give  you  more  than  a  kiss.  I  will  take 
your  head  in  my  arms  and  stroke  your  neck. 

ABRAHAM.  Yes,  like  that ! 

MARY.  What  does  this  mean  ?  What  is  this  lovely 
fragrance.  So  clean,  so  sweet.  It  reminds  me  of  the 
time  when  I  was  good. 

ABRAHAM.  On  with  the  mask  !  Chatter,  make 
lewd  jests  like  an  idle  boy  !  She  must  not  recognize 
me,  or  for  very  shame  she  may  fly  from  me. 

MARY.  Wretch  that  I  am  !  To  what  have  I  fallen  ! 
In  what  pit  am  I  sunk  ! 

ABRAHAM.  You  forget  where  you  are  !  Do  men 
come  here  to  see  you  cry  ! 

INN-KEEPER.  What's  the  matter,  Lady  Mary? 
Why  are  you  in  the  dumps  ?  You  have  lived  here  two 
years,  and  never  before  have  I  seen  a  tear,  never  heard 
a  sigh  or  a  word  of  complaint. 


$4  THE   PLAYS  OF  ROSWITHA 

MARY.  Oh,  that  I  had  died  three  years  ago  before 
I  came  to  this  ! 

ABRAHAM.  I  came  here  to  make  love  to  yon,  not 
to  weep  with  you  over  your  sins. 

MARY.  A  little  thing  moved  me.  and  I  spoke 
foolishly.  It  is  nothing.  Come,  let  us  eat  and  drink  and 
be  merry,  tor.  as  you  say,  this  is  not  the  place  to  think  of 
one's  sins. 

ABRAHAM.    1  have  eaten  and  drunk  enough,  thanks 
to  \i,i:r  good  table.  Sir.      Now  by  your  leave  1  will  ;. 
bed.      My  tired  limbs  need  a  rest. 

INN-KEEPER.  As  you  please. 

MARY.   Get  up  my  lord.      1  will  take  you  to  bed. 

ABRAHAM.  1  hope  so.  1  would  not  go  at  all  unless 
you  came  with  me. 

SCENE  VI 1 

MARY.  Look!  How  do  you  like  this  room?  A 
handsome  bed,  isn't  it  ?  Those  trappings  eost  a  lot  of 
monev.  Sit  down  and  I  will  take  off  your  shoes.  You 
seem  tired. 

ABRAHAM.  First  bolt  the  door.  Someone  may 
come  in. 

MARY.   Have  no  tear.      I  have  seen  to  that. 

ABRAHAM.  The  time  has  come  for  me  to  show 
my  shaven  head,  and  make  myself  known  !  Oh,  my 
daughter  !     Oh,  Mary,  you  who  are  part  of  my  soul ! 


ABRAHAM  85 

Look  at  me.  Do  you  not  know  me  ?  Do  you  not  know 
the  old  man  who  cherished  you  with  a  father's  love,  and 
wedded  you  to  the  Son  of  the  King  of  Heaven  ? 

MARY.  God,  what  shall  I  do  !  It  is  my  father  and 
master  Abraham  ! 

ABRAHAM.  What  has  come  to  you,  daughter  ? 

MARY.  Oh,  misery  ! 

ABRAHAM.  Who  deceived  you  ?  Who  led  you 
astray  ? 

MARY.  Who  deceived  our  first  parents  ? 

ABRAHAM.  Have  you  forgotten  that  once  you  lived 
like  an  angel  on  earth  ! 

MARY.  All  that  is  over. 

ABRAHAM.  What  has  become  of  your  virginal 
modesty  ?     Your  beautiful  purity  ? 

MARY.  Lost.     Gone! 

ABRAHAM.  Oh,  Mary,  think  what  you  have  thrown 
away  !  Think  what  a  reward  you  had  earned  by  your 
fasting,  and  prayers,  and  vigils.  What  can  they  avail 
you  now  !  You  have  hurled  yourself  from  heavenly 
heights  into  the  depths  of  hell  ! 

MARY.  Oh  God,  I  know  it ! 

ABRAHAM.  Could  you  not  trust  me  ?  Why  did  you 
desert  me  ?  Why  did  you  not  tell  me  of  your  fall  ?  Then 
dear  brother  Ephrem  and  I  could  have  done  a  worthy 
penance. 

MARY.  Once  I  had  committed  that  sin,  and  was 
defiled,  how  could  I  dare  come  near  you  who  are  so  holy  ? 


86  THE  PLAYS  OF  ROSWITHA 

ABRAHAM.  Oh,  Mary,  has  anyone  ever  lived  on 
earth  without  sin  except  the  Virgin's  Son  ? 

MARY.  No  one,  I  know. 

ABRAHAM.  It  is  human  to  sin,  but  it  is  devilish  to 
remain  in  sin.  Who  can  be  jusdy  condemned  ?  Not 
those  who  fall  suddenly,  but  those  who  refuse  to  rise 
quickly. 

MARY.  Wretched,  miserable  creature  that  I  am  ! 

ABRAHAM.  Why  have  you  thrown  yourself  down 
there  ?  Why  do  you  lie  on  the  ground  without  moving 
or  speaking  ?  Get  up,  Mary  !  Get  up,  my  child,  and 
listen  to  me  ! 

MARY.  No  !  no  !  I  am  afraid.  I  cannot  bear  your 
reproaches. 

ABRAHAM.  Remember  how  I  love  you,  and  you 
will  not  be  afraid. 

MARY.  It  is  useless.     I  cannot. 

ABRAHAM.  What  but  love  for  you  could  have  made 
me  leave  the  desert  and  relax  the  strict  observance  of 
our  rule  ?  What  but  love  could  have  made  me,  a  true 
hermit,  come  into  the  city  and  mix  with  the  lascivious 
crowd  ?  It  is  for  your  sake  that  these  lips  have  learned  to 
utter  light,  foolish  words,  so  that  I  might  not  be  known  ! 
Oh,  Mary,  why  do  you  turn  away  your  face  from  me  and 
gaze  upon  the  ground  ?  Why  do  you  scorn  to  answer 
and  tell  me  what  is  in  your  mind. 

MARY.  It  is  the  thought  of  my  sins  which  crushes  me. 
I  dare  not  look  at  you  ;  I  am  not  fit  to  speak  to  you. 


ABRAHAM  87 

ABRAHAM.  My  little  one,  have  no  fear.  Oh,  do 
not  despair  !  Rise  from  this  abyss  of  desperation  and 
grapple  God  to  your  soul  ! 

MARY.  No,  no  !  My  sins  are  too  great.  They 
weigh  me  down. 

ABRAHAM.  The  mercy  of  heaven  is  greater  than 
you  or  your  sins.  Let  your  sadness  be  dispersed  by  its 
glorious  beams.  Oh,  Mary,  do  not  let  apathy  prevent 
your  seizing  the  moment  for  repentance.  It  matters  not 
how  wickedness  has  flourished.  Divine  grace  can  flourish 
still  more  abundantly  ! 

MARY.  If  there  were  the  smallest  hope  of  forgive- 
ness, surely  I  should  not  shrink  from  doing  penance. 

ABRAHAM.  Have  you  no  pity  for  me  ?  I  have 
sought  you  out  with  so  much  pain  and  weariness  !  Oh 
shake  off  this  despair  which  we  are  taught  is  the  most 
terrible  of  all  sins.  Despair  of  God's  mercy — for  that 
alone  there  is  no  forgiveness.  Sin  can  no  more  embitter 
His  sweet  mercy  than  a  spark  from  a  flint  can  set  the 
ocean  on  fire. 

MARY.  I  know  that  God's  mercy  is  great,  but  when 
I  think  how  greatly  I  have  sinned,  I  cannot  believe  any 
penance  can  make  amends. 

ABRAHAM.  I  will  take  your  sins  on  me.  Only 
come  back  and  take  up  your  life  again  as  if  you  had  never 
left  it. 

MARY.  I  do  not  want  to  oppose  you.  What  you 
tell  me  to  do  I  will  do  with  all  my  heart. 


88  THE  PLAYS  OF  ROSWITHA 

ABRAHAM.  My  daughter  lives  again  !     I  have  found 
my  lost  lamb  and  she  is  dearer  to  me  than  ever. 

MARY.  I  have  a  few  possessions  here — a  little  gold 
and  some  clothes.     What  ought  I  to  do  with  them  ? 
_  ABRAHAM.  What  came  to  you  through  sin,  with 
sin  must  be  left  behind. 

MARY.  Could  it  not  be  given  to  the  poor,  or  sold  for 
an  offering  at  the  holy  altar  ? 

ABRAHAM.  The  price  of  sin  is  not  an  acceptable 
offering  to  God. 

MARY.  Then  I  will  not  trouble  any  more  about  my 
possessions. 

ABRAHAM.  Look !  The  dawn  !  It  is  growing 
light.     Let  us  go. 

MARY.  You  go  first,  dearest  father,  like  the  good 
shepherd  leading  the  lost  lamb  that  has  been  found.  The 
lamb  will  follow  in  your  steps. 

ABRAHAM.  Not  so  !  I  am  going  on  foot,  but  you— 
you  shall  have  a  horse  so  that  the  stony  road  shall  not  hurt 
your  delicate  feet. 

MARY.  Oh,  let  me  never  forget  this  tenderness  ! 
Let  me  try  all  my  life  to  thank  you  !  I  was  not  worth 
pity,  yet  you  have  shown  me  no  harshness  ;  you  have  led 
me  to  repent  not  by  threats  but  by  gentleness  and  love. 

ABRAHAM.  I  ask  only  one  thing,  Mary.  Be  faith- 
ful to  God  for  the  rest  of  your  life. 

MARY.  With  all  my  strength  I  will  persevere,  and 
though  my  flesh  may  fail,  my  spirit  never  will. 


ABRAHAM  89 

ABRAHAM.  You  must  serve  God  with  as  much 
energy  as  you  have  served  the  world. 

MARY.  If  His  will  is  made  perfect  in  me  it  will  be 
because  of  your  merits. 

ABRAHAM.  Come,  let  us  hasten  on  our  way. 

MARY.  Yes,  let  us  set  out  at  once.  I  would  not  stay 
here  another  moment. 

SCENE  VIII 

ABRAHAM.  Courage,  Mary  !  You  see  how  swiftly 
we  have  made  the  difficult  and  toilsome  journey. 

MARY.  Everything  is  easy  when  we  put  our  hearts 
into  it. 

ABRAHAM.  There  is  your  deserted  little  cell. 

MARY.  God  help  me  !  It  was  the  witness  of  my 
sin.     I  dare  not  go  there. 

ABRAHAM.  It  is  natural  you  should  dread  the  place 
where  the  enemy  triumphed. 

MARY.  Where,  then,  am  I  to  do  penance  ? 

ABRAHAM.  Go  into  the  inner  cell.  There  you 
will  be  safe  from  the  wiles  of  the  serpent. 

MARY.   Most  gladly  as  it  is  your  wish. 

ABRAHAM.  Now  I  must  go  to  my  good  friend 
Ephrem.  He  alone  mourned  with  me  when  you  were 
lost,  and  he  must  rejoice  with  me  now  that  you  have  been 
found. 

MARY.  Of  course. 


9o  THE  PLAYS  OF  ROSWITHA 

SCENE  IX 

EPHREM.  Well,  brother  !  If  I  am  not  mistaken, 
you  bring  good  news. 

ABRAHAM.  The  best  in  the  world. 

EPHREM.  You  have  found  your  lost  lamb  ? 

ABRAHAM.  I  have,  and,  rejoicing,  have  brought 
her  back  to  the  fold. 

EPHREM.  Truly  this  is  the  work  of  divine  grace. 

ABRAHAM.  That  is  certain. 

EPHREM.  How  is  she  spending  her  days  ?  I  should 
like  to  know  how  you  have  ordered  her  life.  What 
does  she  do  ? 

ABRAHAM.  All  that  I  tell  her. 

EPHREM.  That  is  well. 

ABRAHAM.  Nothing  is  too  difficult  for  her — 
nothing  too  hard.    She  is  ready  to  endure  anything. 

EPHREM.  That  is  better. 

ABRAHAM.  She  wears  a  hair  shirt,  and  subdues  her 
flesh  with  continual  vigils  and  fasts.  She  is  making  the 
poor  frail  body  obey  the  spirit  by  the  most  rigorous 
discipline. 

EPHREM.  Only  through  such  a  severe  penance  can 
the  stains  left  by  the  pleasures  of  the  flesh  be  washed 
away. 

ABRAHAM.  Those  who  hear  her  sobs  are  cut  to  the 
heart,  and  the  tale  of  her  repentance  has  turned  many 
from  their  sins. 


ABRAHAM  91 

EPHREM.  It  is  often  so. 

ABRAHAM.  She  prays  continually  for  the  men  who 
through  her  were  tempted  to  sin,  and  begs  that  she  who 
was  their  ruin  may  be  their  salvation. 

EPHREM.  It  is  right  that  she  should  do  this. 

ABRAHAM.  She  strives  to  make  her  life  as  beautiful 
as  for  a  time  it  was  hideous. 

EPHREM.  I  rejoice  at  what  you  tell  me.  To  the 
depths  of  my  heart. 

ABRAHAM.  And  with  us  rejoice  phalanxes  of  angels, 
praising  the  Lord  for  the  conversion  of  a  sinner. 

EPHREM.  Over  whom,  we  are  told,  there  is  more 
joy  in  heaven  than  over  the  just  man  who  needs  no 
penance. 

ABRAHAM.  The  more  glory  to  Him,  because  there 
seemed  no  hope  on  earth  that  she  could  be  saved. 

EPHREM.  Let  us  sing  a  song  of  thanksgiving — let 
us  glorify  the  only  begotten  Son  of  God,  Who  of  His 
love  and  mercy  will  not  let  them  perish  whom  He 
redeemed  with  His  holy  blood. 

ABRAHAM.  To  Him  be  honour,  glory,  and  praise 
through  infinite  ages.     Amen. 


PAPHNUTIUS 

ARGUMENT 

The  conversion  of  Thais  by  the  hermit  Paphnutius. 
Obedient  to  a  vision,  he  leaves  the  desert,  and,  disguised 
as  a  lover,  seeks  out  Thais  in  Alexandria.  She  is  moved 
to  repent  by  his  exhortations  and,  renouncing  her  evil 
life,  consents  to  be  enclosed  in  a  narrow  cell,  where  she 
does  penance  for  three  years.  Paphnutius  learns  from  a 
vision  granted  to  Anthony's  disciple  Paul  that  her  humility 
has  won  her  a  place  among  the  blessed  in  Paradise.  He 
brings  her  out  of  her  cell  and  stays  by  her  side  until  her 
soul  has  left  her  body. 


CHARACTERS 

PAPHNUTIUS. 

THAIS. 

THE  ABBESS. 

LOVERS  OF  THAIS. 

DISCIPLES  OF  PAPHNUTIUS. 

ANTONY. 

PAUL. 


PAPHNUTIUS 

SCENE  I 

DISCIPLES.*  Why  do  you  look  so  gloomy,  father 
Paphnutius  ?     Why  do  you  not  smile  at  us  as  usual  ? 

PAPHNUTIUS.  When  the  heart  is  sad  the  face 
clouds  over.     It  is  only  natural. 

DISCIPLES.   But  why  are  you  sad  ? 

PAPHNUTIUS.  I  grieve  over  an  injury  to  my 
Creator. 

DISCIPLES.  What  injury? 

PAPHNUTIUS.  The  in:ury  His  own  creatures 
made  in  His  very  image  inflict  on  Him. 

DISCIPLES.  Oh,  father,  your  words  fill  us  with 
fear  !     How  can  such  things  be  ? 

PAPHNUTIUS.  It  is  true  that  the  impassible 
Majesty  cannot  be  hurt  by  injuries.  Nevertheless,  speak- 
ing in  metaphor,  and  as  if  God  were  weak  with  our 
weakness,  what  greater  injury  can  we  conceive  than  this 
— that  while  the  greater  world  is  obedient,  and  subject 
to  His  rule,  the  lesser  world  resists  His  guidance  ? 

*  When  Paphnutius  was  acted,  the  dialogue  of  the 
"  disciples  "  was  allotted  to  several  different  actors,  with 
the  interesting  result  that  some  definite  characters 
emerged. 


96  THE  PLAYS  OF  ROSWITHA 

DISCIPLES.  What  do  you  mean  by  the  lesser  world  ? 

PAPHNUTIUS.  Man. 

DISCIPLES.  Man? 

PAPHNUTIUS.  Yes. 

DISCIPLES.  Whatman? 

PAPHNUTIUS.  Everyman. 

DISCIPLES.  How  can  this  be  ? 

PAPHNUTIUS.  It  has  pleased  our  Creator. 

DISCIPLES.  We  do  not  understand. 

PAPHNUTIUS.  It  is  not  plain  to  many. 

DISCIPLES.  Explain,  father. 

PAPHNUTIUS.  Be  attentive,  then. 

DISCIPLES.  We  are  eager  to  learn. 

PAPHNUTIUS.  You  know  that  the  greater  world  is 
composed  of  four  elements  which  are  contraries,  yet  by 
the  will  of  the  Creator  these  contraries  are  adjusted  in 
harmonious  arrangement.  Now,  man  is  composed  of  even 
more  contrary  parts. 

DISCIPLES.  What  can  be  more  contrary  than  the 
elements  ? 

PAPHNUTIUS.  The  body  and  the  soul.  The  soul 
is  not  mortal  like  the  body,  nor  the  body  spiritual  as  is  the 
soul. 

DISCIPLES.  That  is  true.  But  what  did  you  mean, 
father,  when  you  spoke  of  "  harmonious  arrangement  "  ? 

PAPHNUTIUS.  I  meant  that  as  low  and  high  sounds 
harmoniously  united  produce  a  certain  music,  so  dis- 
cordant elements  rightly  adjusted  make  one  world. 


PAPHNUTIUS  97 

DISCIPLES.  It  seems  strange  that  discords  can  be- 
come concords. 

PAPHNUTIUS.  Consider.  No  thing  is  composed  of 
"  likes  " — neither  can  it  be  made  up  of  elements  which 
have  no  proportion  among  themselves,  or  which  are 
entirely  different  in  substance  and  nature. 

DISCIPLES.  What  is  music,  master  ? 

PAPHNUTIUS.  One  of  the  branches  of  the 
"  quadrivium  "  of  philosophy,  my  son.  Arithmetic, 
geometry,  music,  and  philosophy  form  the  quadrivium. 

DISCIPLES.  I  should  like  to  know  why  they  are 
given  that  name. 

PAPHNUTIUS.  Because  just  as  paths  branch  out 
from  the  quadrivium,  the  place  where  four  roads  meet, 
so  do  these  subjects  lead  like  roads  from  one  principle 
of  philosophy. 

DISCIPLES.  We  had  best  not  question  you  about  the 
other  three,  for  our  slow  wits  can  scarcely  follow  what  you 
have  told  us  about  the  first. 

PAPHNUTIUS.  It  is  a  difficult  subject. 

DISCIPLES.  Still  you  might  give  us  a  general  idea  of 
the  nature  of  music. 

PAPHNUTIUS.  It  is  hard  to  explain  to  hermits  to 
whom  it  is  an  unknown  science. 

DISCIPLES.   Is  there  more  than  one  kind  of  music  ? 

PAPHNUTIUS.  There  are  three  kinds,  my  son. 
The  first  is  celestial,  the  second  human,  the  third  is 
produced  by  instruments. 

H 


98  THE  PLAYS  OF  ROSWITHA 

DISCIPLES.  In  what  does  the  celestial  consist  ? 

PAPHNUTIUS.  In  the  seven  planets  and  the 
celestial  globe. 

DISCIPLES.  But  how? 

PAPHNUTIUS.  Exactly  as  in  instruments.  You 
find  the  same  number  of  intervals  of  the  same  length,  and 
the  same  concords  as  in  strings. 

DISCIPLES.  We  do  not  understand  what  intervals 
are. 

PAPHNUTIUS.  The  dimensions  which  are  reckoned 
between  planets  or  between  notes. 

DISCIPLES.  And  what  are  their  lengths  ? 

PAPHNUTIUS.  The  same  as  tones. 

DISCIPLES.  We  are  none  the  wiser. 

PAPHNUTIUS.  A  tone  is  composed  of  two  sounds, 
and  bears  the  ratio  of  nine  to  eight. 

DISCIPLES.  As  soon  as  we  get  over  one  difficulty, 
you  place  a  greater  one  in  our  path  ! 

PAPHNUTIUS.  That  is  inevitable  in  a  discussion 
of  this  kind. 

DISCIPLES.  Yet  tell  us  something  about  concord, 
so  that  at  least  we  may  know  the  meaning  of  the  word. 

PAPHNUTIUS.  Concord,  harmony,  or  symphonia 
may  be  defined  as  a  fitting  disposition  of  modulation.  It 
is  composed  sometimes  of  three,  sometimes  of  four, 
sometimes  of  five  sounds. 

DISCIPLES.  As  you  have  given  us  these  three 
distinctions,  we  should  like  to  learn  the  name  of  each. 


PAPHNUTIUS  99 

PAPHNUTIUS.  The  first  is  called  a  fourth,  as 
consisting  of  four  sounds,  and  it  has  the  proportion  of  four 
to  three.  The  second  is  called  a  fifth.  It  consists  of  five 
sounds  and  bears  the  ratio  of  one  and  a  half.  The  third 
is  known  as  the  diapason  ;  it  is  double  and  is  perfected 
in  eight  sounds. 

DISCIPLES.  And  do  the  spheres  and  planets  produce 
sounds,  since  they  are  compared  to  notes  ? 

PAPHNUTIUS.   Undoubtedly  they  do. 

DISCIPLE.  Why  is  the  music  not  heard  ? 

DISCIPLES.  Yes,  why  is  it  not  heard  ? 

PAPHNUTIUS.  Many  reasons  are  given.  Some 
think  it  is  not  heard  because  it  is  so  continuous  that  men 
have  grown  accustomed  to  it.  Others  say  it  is  because 
of  the  density  of  the  air.  Some  assert  that  so  enormous  a 
sound  could  not  pass  into  the  mortal  ear.  Others  that  the 
music  of  the  spheres  is  so  pleasant  and  sweet  that  if  it  were 
heard  all  men  would  v_ome  together,  and,  forgetting  them- 
selves and  all  their  pursuits,  would  follow  the  sounds  from 
east  to  west. 

DISCIPLES.   It  is  well  that  it  is  not  heard. 

PAPHNUTIUS.  As  our  Creator  foreknew. 

DISCIPLES.  We  have  heard  enough  of  this  kind  of 
music.     What  of"  human  "  music  ? 

PAPHNUTIUS.  What  do  you  want  to  know  about 
that  ? 

DISCIPLES.   How  is  it  manifested  ? 

PAPHNUTIUS.  Not  only,  as  I  have  already  told  you, 


ioo  THE  PLAYS  OF  ROSWITHA 

in  the  combination  of  body  and  soul,  and  in  the  utterance 
of  the  voice,  now  high,  now  low,  but  even  in  the  pulsation 
of  the  veins,  and  in  the  proportion  of  our  members. 
Take  the  finger-joints.  In  them,  if  we  measure,  we  find 
the  same  proportions  as  we  have  already  found  in  con- 
cord ;  for  music  is  said  to  be  a  fitting  disposition  not 
only  of  sounds,  but  of  things  with  no  resemblance  to 
sounds. 

DISCIPLES.  Had  we  known  the  difficulty  that  such 
a  hard  point  presents  to  the  ignorant,  we  would  not  have 
asked  you  about  your  "  lesser  world."  It  is  better  to 
know  nothing  than  to  be  bewildered. 

PAPHNUTIUS.  I  do  not  agree.  By  trying  to 
understand  you  have  learned  many  things  that  you  did 
not  know  before. 

DISCIPLES.  That  is  true. 

DISCIPLE.  True  it  may  be,  but  I  am  weary  of  this 
disputation.  We  are  all  weary,  because  we  cannot  follow 
the  reasoning  of  such  a  philosopher  ! 

PAPHNUTIUS.  Why  do  you  laugh  at  me,  children  ? 
I  am  no  philosopher,  but  an  ignorant  man. 

DISCIPLES.  Where  did  you  get  all  this  learning  with 
which  you  have  puzzled  our  heads  ? 

PAPHNUTIUS.  It  is  but  a  little  drop  from  the  full 
deep  wells  of  learning — wells  at  which  I,  a  chance  passer- 
by, have  lapped,  but  never  sat  down  to  drain. 

DISCIPLE.  We  are  grateful  for  your  patience  with 
us ;    but   I   for  one  cannot  forget  the  warning  of  the 


PAPHNUTIUS  101 

Apostle  :  "  God  hath  chosen  the  foolish  things  of  the 
world  to  confound  the  wise." 

PAPHNUTIUS.  Whether  a  fool  or  a  wise  man  does 
wrong,  he  will  be  confounded. 

DISCIPLES.  True. 

PAPHNUTIUS.  Nor  is  God  offended  by  Knowledge 
of  the  Knowable,  only  by  undue  pride  on  the  part  of  the 
Knower. 

DISCIPLES.  That  is  well  said. 

PAPHNUTIUS.  And  I  would  ask  you— unto  whose 
praise  can  the  knowledge  of  the  arts  be  more  worthily 
or  more  justly  turned  than  to  the  praise  of  Him  Who 
made  things  capable  of  being  known,  and  gave  us  the 
capacity  to  know  them  ? 

DISCIPLES.  Truly,  to  none. 

PAPHNUTIUS.  The  more  a  man  realizes  the 
wonderful  way  in  which  God  has  set  all  things  in  number 
and  measure  and  weight,  the  more  ardent  his  love. 

DISCIPLES.  That  is  as  it  should  be. 

PAPHNUTIUS.  But  I  am  wrong  to  dwell  on  matters 
which  give  you  so  little  pleasure. 

DISCIPLES.  Tell  us  the  cause  of  your  sadness. 
Relieve  us  of  the  burden  of  our  curiosity. 

PAPHNUTIUS.  Perhaps  you  will  not  find  the  tale 
to  your  liking. 

DISCIPLES.  A  man  is  often  sadder  for  having  his 
curiosity  satisfied,  yet  he  cannot  overcome  this  tendency 
to  be  curious.     It  is  part  of  our  weakness. 


102  THE  PLAYS  OF  ROSWITHA 

PAPHNUTIUS.  Brothers— there  is  a  woman,  a 
shameless  woman,  living  in  our  neighbourhood. 

DISCIPLES.  A  perilous  thing  for  the  people. 

PAPHNUTIUS.  Her  beauty  is  wonderful:  her 
impurity  is-r-horrible. 

DISCIPLES.  What  is  her  wretched  name  ? 

PAPHNUTIUS.  Thais. 

DISCIPLES.  Thais  !     Thais,  the  harlot ! 

PAPHNUTIUS.  Yes— she. 

DISCIPLE.  Everyone  has  heard  of  her  and  her 
wickedness. 

PAPHNUTIUS.  It  is  no  wonder,  for  she  is  not 
satisfied  to  ruin  herself  with  a  small  band  of  lovers.  She 
seeks  to  allure  all  men  through  her  marvellous  beauty, 
and  drag  them  down  with  her. 

DISCIPLES.  What  a  woeful  thing  ! 

PAPHNUTIUS.  And  it  is  not  only  fools  and  wastrels 
who  squander  their  substance  with  her.  Citizens  of 
high  standing  and  virtue  lay  precious  things  at  her  feet, 
and  enrich  her  to  their  own  undoing. 

DISCIPLES.  It  is  terrible  to  hear  of  such  things. 

PAPHNUTIUS.  Flocks  of  lovers  crowd  to  her 
doors. 

DISCIPLES.  And  to  their  destruction  ! 

PAPHNUTIUS.  They  are  so  crazed  with  desire  that 
they  quarrel  and  fight  for  admission  to  her  house. 

DISCIPLES.  One  vice  brings  another  in  its  train. 

PAPHNUTIUS.  They  come  to  blows.     Heads  are 


PAPHNUTIUS  103 

broken,  faces  bruised,  noses  smashed  ;  at  times  they  drive 
each  other  out  with  weapons,  and  the  threshold  of  the 
vhe  place  is  dyed  with  blood  ! 

DISCIPLES.  Most  horrible  ! 

PAPHNUTIUS.  This  is  the  injury  to  the  Creator 
for  which  I  weep  day  and  night.  This  is  the  cause  of 
my  sorrow. 

D.SCIPLES.  We  understand  now.  You  have  good 
reason  to  be  distressed,  and  I  doubt  not  that  the  citizens 
of  the  heavenly  country  share  your  grief. 

PAPHNUTIUS.  Oh,  to  rescue  her  from  that  wicked 
life  !     Why  should  I  not  try  ? 

DISCIPLES.  God  forbid  ! 

PAPHNUTIUS.  Brother,  our  Lord  Jesus  went 
among  sinners. 

DISCIPLES.  Sh?  would  not  receive  a  hermit. 

PAPHNUTIUS.  What  if  I  were  to  go  in  the  disguise 
of  a  lover  ? 

DISCIPLE.  If  that  thought  is  from  God,  God  will 
give  you  strength  to  accomplish  it. 

PAPHNUTIUS.  I  will  set  out  immediately.  I 
shall  need  your  best  prayers.  Pray  that  I  may  not 
be  overcome  by  the  wiles  of  the  serpent.  Pray  that 
I  may  be  able  to  show  this  soul  the  beauty  of  divine 
love. 

DISCIPLE.  May  He  Who  laid  low  the  Prince  of 
Darkness  give  you  the  victory  over  the  enemy  of  the 
human  race. 


104  THE  PLAYS  OF  ROSWITHA 

SCENE  II 

PAPHNUTIUS.  I  am  bewildered  in  this  town.  I 
cannot  find  my  way.  Now  I  shut  my  eyes,  and  I  am 
back  in  the  desert.  I  can  hear  my  children's  voices 
praising  God.  Good  children,  I  know  you  are  praying 
for  me  !  I  fear  to  speak.  I  fear  to  ask  my  way.  O  God, 
come  to  my  help  !  I  see  some  young  men  in  the  market- 
place. They  are  coming  this  way.  I  will  go  up  to  them 
and  ask  where  she  is  to  be  found. 

THE  YOUNG  MEN.  That  stranger  seems  to  want 
to  speak  to  us. 

YOUNG  MAN.  Let  us  go  and  find  out. 

PAPHNUTIUS.  Your  pardon,  gentlemen.  Am  I 
speaking  to  citizens  of  this  town  ? 

YOUNG  MAN.  You  are.  Can  we  do  anything  for 
you  ? 

PAPHNUTIUS.  My  salutations  ! 

YOUNG  MAN.  And  ours,  whether  you  are  a  native 
or  a  foreigner. 

PAPHNUTIUS.  I  am  a  stranger. 

YOUNG  MAN.  What  brings  you  here  ?  Have  you 
come  for  pleasure,  business,  or  learning  ?  This  is  a  great 
city  for  learning.     Which  is  it  ? 

PAPHNUTIUS.  I  cannot  say. 

YOUNG  MAN.  Why? 

PAPHNUTIUS.  That  is  my  secret. 

YOUNG  MAN.  It  would  be  wiser  to  tell  us  your 


PAPHNUTIUS  105 

secret.  It  will  be  difficult  for  you,  a  stranger,  to  do  your 
business  here  without  the  advice  of  us  citizens. 

PAPHNUTIUS.  But  if  I  tell  you,  you  may  try  to 
hinder  me  from  carrying  out  my  plans. 

YOUNG  MAN.  You  can  trust  us.  We  are  men 
of  honour  ! 

PAPHNUTIUS.  I  believe  it.  I  will  trust  in  your 
loyalty  and  tell  you  my  secret. 

YOUNG  MAN.  We  are  not  traitors.  No  harm  shall 
come  to  you. 

PAPHNUTIUS.  I  am  told  that  there  lives  in  this 
town  a  woman  who  loves  all  who  love  her.  She  is  kind 
to  all  men  ;  she'll  not  deny  them  anything. 

YOUNG  MAN.  Stranger,  you  must  tell  us  her  name. 
There  are  many  women  of  that  kind  in  our  city.  Do  you 
know  her  name  ? 

PAPHNUTIUS.  Yes,  I  know  it. 

YOUNG  MAN.  Who  is  she  ? 

PAPHNUTIUS.  Thais. 

YOUNG  MAN.  Thais  !  She  is  the  flame  of  this 
land  !     She  sets  all  hearts  on  fire. 

PAPHNUTIUS.  They  say  she  is  beautiful.  The 
most  exquisite  woman  of  her  kind  in  the  world  ! 

YOUNG   MAN.  They  have  not  deceived  you. 

PAPHNUTIUS.  For  her  sake  I  have  made  a  long  and 
difficult  journey.     I  have  come  here  only  to  see  her. 

YOUNG  MAN.  Well,  what  should  prevent  you  ? 
You  are  young  and  handsome. 


106  THE  PLAYS  OF  ROSWITHA 

PAPHNUTIUS.  Where  does  she  live  ? 

YOUNG  MAN.  Over  there.  Her  house  is  quite 
near  this  place. 

PAPHNUTIUS.  That  house  ? 

YOUNG  MAN.  Yes,  to  the  left  of  the  statue. 

PAPHNUTIUS.  I  will  go  there. 

YOUNG  MAN.  If  you  like,  we  will  come  with  you. 

PAPHNUTIUS.  I  thank  you  for  the  courtesy,  but 
I  would  rather  go  alone. 

YOUNG  MAN.  We  understand.  Have  you  money 
in  your  purse,  stranger  ?  Thais  loves  a  handsome  face, 
but  she  loves  a  full  purse  more. 

PAPHNUTIUS.  Gendemen,  I  am  rich.  I  have 
a  rare  present  to  offer  her. 

YOUNG  MAN.  To  our  next  meeting,  then  ! 
Farewell.     May  Thais  be  kind  ! 

PAPHNUTIUS.  Farewell. 


SCENE  III 

PAPHNUTIUS.  Thais !     Thais ! 

THAIS.  Who  is  there  ?     I  do  not  know  that  voice. 

PAPHNUTIUS.  Thais  !  Your  lover  speaks  ! 
Thais  ! 

THAIS.  Stranger,  who  are  you  ? 

PAPHNUTIUS.  Arise,  my  love,  my  beautiful  one, 
and  come  ! 

THAIS.  Who  are  you  ? 

PAPHNUTIUS.  A  man  who  loves  you  ! 


PAPHNUTIUS  107 

THAIS.  And  what  do  you  want  with  me  ? 

PAPHNUTIUS.  I  will  show  you. 

THAIS.  You  would  be  my  lover  ? 

PAPHNUTIUS.  I  am  your  lover,  Thais,  flame  of  the 
world  ! 

THAIS.  Whoever  loves  me  is  well  paid.  He  receives 
as  much  as  he  gives. 

PAPHNUTIUS.  Oh,  Thais,  Thais  !  If  you  knew 
what  a  long  and  troublesome  journey  I  have  come  to 
speak  to  you — to  see  your  face  ! 

THAIS.  Well  ?  Have  I  refused  to  speak  to  you,  or 
to  show  you  my  face  ? 

PAPHNUTIUS.  I  cannot  speak  to  you  here.  I  must 
be  with  you  alone.  What  I  have  to  say  is  secret.  The 
room  must  be  secret  iuo. 

THAIS.  How  would  you  like  a  bedchamber,  fragrant 
with  perfumes,  adorned  as  for  a  marriage  ?  I  have  such  a 
room.      Look  ! 

PAPHNUTIUS.  Is  there  no  room  still  more 
secret — a  room  that  your  lovers  do  not  know  ? 
Some  room  where  you  and  I  might  hide  from  all  the 
world  ? 

THAIS.  Yes,  there  is  a  room  like  that  in  this  house. 
No  one  even  knows  that  it  exists  except  myself,  and 
God. 

PAPHNUTIUS.  God!     What  God  ? 

THAIS.  The  true  God. 

PAPHNUTIUS.  You  believe  that  He  exists  ? 

THAIS.   I  am  a  Christian. 


108  THE  PLAYS  OF  ROSWITHA 

PAPHNUTIUS.  And  you  believe  that  He  knows 
what  we  do  ? 

THAIS.   I  believe  He  knows  everything. 

PAPHNUTIUS.  What  do  you  think,  then  ?  That 
He  is  indifferent  to  the  actions  of  the  sinner,  or  that  He 
reserves  judgment  ? 

THAIS.  I  suppose  that  the  merits  of  each  man  are 
weighed  in  the  balance,  and  that  we  shall  be  punished  or 
rewarded  according  to  our  deeds. 

PAPHJNUTIUS.  O  Christ !  How  wondrous  is  Thy 
patience  !  How  wondrous  is  Thy  love  !  Even  when 
those  who  believe  in  Thee  sin  deliberately,  Thou  dost 
delay  their  destruction  ! 

THAIS.  Why  do  you  tremble  ?  Why  do  you  turn 
pale  ?     Why  do  you  weep  ? 

PAPHNUTIUS.  I  shudder  at  your  presumption. 
I  weep  for  your  damnation.  How,  knowing  what  you 
know,  can  you  destroy  men  in  this  manner  and  ruin  so 
many  souls,  all  precious  and  immortal  ? 

THAIS.  Your  voice  pierces  my  heart  !  Strange 
lover — you  are  cruel.     Pity  me  ! 

PAPHNUTIUS.  Let  us  pity  rather  those  souls 
whom  you  have  deprived  of  the  sight  of  God — 
of  the  God  Whom  you  confess !  Oh,  Thais,  you  have 
wilfully  offended  the  divine  Majesty.  That  condemns 
you. 

THAIS.  What  do  you  mean  ?  Why  do  you  threaten 
me  like  this  ? 


PAPHNUTIUS  109 

PAPHNUTIUS.  Because  the  punishment  of  hell-fire 
ta  you  if  you  remain  in  sin. 

THAIS.  Who  are  you,  who  rebuke  me  so  sternly  ? 
Oh,  you  have  shaken  me  to  the  depths  of  my  terrified 
heart  ! 

PAPHNUTIUS.  I  would  that  you  could  be  shaken 
with  fear  to  your  very  bowels  !  I  would  like  to  see  your 
delicate  body  impregnated  with  terror  in  every  vein,  and 
every  fibre,  if  that  would  keep  you  from  yielding  to  the 
dangerous  delights  of  the  flesh. 

THAIS.  And  what  zest  for  pleasure  do  you  think  is 
left  now  in  a  heart  suddenly  awakened  to  a  consciousness 
of  guilt  !     Remorse  has  killed  everything. 

PAPHNUTIUS.  I  long  to  see  the  thorns  of  vice  cut 
away,  and  the  choked-up  fountain  of  your  tears  flowing 
once  more.  Tears  of  repentance  are  precious  in  the  sight 
of  God. 

THAIS.  Oh,  voice  that  promises  mercy  !  Do  you 
believe,  can  you  hope  that  one  so  vile  as  I,  soiled 
by  thousands  and  thousands  of  impurities,  can  make 
reparation,  can  ever  by  any  manner  of  penance  obtain 
pardon  ? 

PAPHNUTIUS.  Thais,  no  sin  is  so  great,  no 
crime  so  black,  that  it  cannot  be  expiated  by  tears 
and  penitence,  provided  they  are  followed  up  by 
deeds. 

THAIS.  Show  me,  I  beg  you,  my  father,  what  I  can 
do  to  be  reconciled  with  Him  I  have  offended. 


no  THE  PLAYS  OF  ROSWITHA 

PAPHNUTIUS.  Despise  the  world.  Leave  your 
dissolute  lovers. 

THAIS.  And  afterwards  ?     What  then  ? 

PAPHNUTIUS.  You  must  retire  to  some  solitary 
place,  where  you  may  learn  to  know  yourself  and  realize 
the  enormity  of  your  sins. 

THAIS.  If  you  think  this  will  save  me,  I  will  not 
delay  a  moment. 

PAPHNUTIUS.  I  have  no  doubt  it  will. 

THAIS.  Yet  give  me  a  little  time.  I  must  collect  the 
wealth  that  I  have  gained  through  the  sins  of  my  body — 
all  the  treasures  I  have  kept  too  long. 

PAPHNUTIUS.  Do  not  give  them  a  moment's 
thought.  There  will  be  no  lack  of  people  to  find  them 
and  make  use  of  them. 

THAIS.  I  have  another  idea  in  my  mind.  I  did  not 
think  of  keeping  this  wealth  or  of  giving  it  to  my  friends. 
Nor  would  I  distribute  it  among  the  poor.  The  wages  of 
sin  are  no  material  for  good  works. 

PAPHNUTIUS.  You  are  right.  What  then  do  you 
propose  to  do  with  your  possessions  ? 

THAIS.  Give  them  to  the  flames !  Burn  them  to 
ashes  ! 

PAPHNUTIUS.  For  what  reason  ? 

THAIS.  That  they  may  no  longer  exist  in  the 
world.  Each  one  was  acquired  at  the  cost  of  an  injury 
to  the  goodness  and  beauty  of  the  Creator.  Let  them 
burn. 


PAPHNUTIUS  1 1 1 

PAPHNUTIUS.  How  you  are  changed  !  Grace  is 
on  your  lips  !  Your  eyes  are  calm,  and  impure  passions 
no  longer  burn  in  them.  Oh,  miracle  !  Is  this  Thais 
who  was  once  so  greedy  for  gold  ?  Is  this  Thais,  who 
seeks  so  humbly  the  feet  of  God  ? 

THAIS.  God  give  me  grace  to  change  still  more. 
My  heart  is  changed,  but  this  mortal  substance — how 
shall  it  be  changed  ? 

PAPHNUTIUS.  It  is  not  difficult  for  the  unchange- 
able substance  to  transform  us. 

THAIS.  Now  I  am  going  to  carry  out  my  plan.  Fire 
shall  destroy  everything  I  have. 

PAPHNUTIUS.  Go  in  peace.  Then  return  to  me 
here  quickly.  Do  not  delay  !  I  trust  your  resolution, 
and  yet 

THAIS.   You  need  not  be  afraid. 

PAPHNUTIUS.  Thais,  come  back  quickly  !  God 
be  with  you  ! 

SCENE  IV 

THAIS.  Come,  my  lovers  !  Come,  all  my  evil  lovers  ! 
Hasten,  my  lovers  !     Your  Thais  calls  you  ! 

LOVERS.  That  is  the  voice  of  Thais.  She  calls  us. 
Let  us  make  haste.  Let  us  make  haste,  for  by  delay  we 
may  offend  her. 

THAIS.  Come,  lovers  !  Run  !  Hasten  !  What 
makes    you    so    slow  ?      Never   has   Thais    been    more 


ii2  THE  PLAYS  OF  ROSWITHA 

impatient  for  your  coming.  Come  nearer.  I  have 
something  to  tell  you  all. 

LOVERS.  Oh,  Thais,  what  is  the  meaning  of  this 
pile  of  faggots  ?  Why  are  you  throwing  all  those  beauti- 
ful and  precious  treasures  on  the  pile  ? 

THAIS.  You  cannot  guess  ?  You  do  not  know  why 
I  have  built  this  fire  ? 

LO  vTRS.  We  are  amazed.  We  wonder  greatly  what 
is  the  meaning  of  it  and  of  your  strange  looks. 

THAIS.  You  would  like  me  to  tell  you,  evil  lovers  ? 

LOVERS.  We  long  to  hear. 

THAIS.  Look,  then  ! 

LOVERS.  Stop,  Thais  !  What  are  you  doing  ?  Are 
you  mad  ? 

THAIS.  I  am  not  mad.  For  the  first  time  I  am  sane, 
and  I  rejoice  ! 

LOVERS.  To  waste  these  pounds  of  gold,  and  all  the 
other  treasure  !  Oh,  Thais,  you  have  lost  your  senses ! 
These  are  beautiful  things,  precious  things,  and  you  burn 
them  ! 

THAIS.  All  these  things  I  have  extorted  from  you 
as  the  price  of  shameful  deeds.  I  burn  them  to  destroy 
all  hope  in  you  that  I  shall  ever  again  turn  to  your  love. 
And  now  I  leave  you. 

LOVERS.  Wait,  Thais.  Oh  wait  a  little,  and  tell 
us  what  has  changed  you  ! 

THAIS.  I  will  not  stay.  I  will  not  tell  you  anything. 
To  talk  with  you  has  become  loathsome. 


PAPHNUTIUS  113 

LOVERS.  What  have  we  done  to  deserve  this  scorn 
and  contempt  ?  Can  you  accuse  us  of  being  un- 
faithful ?  What  wrong  have  we  done  ?  We  have 
always  sought  to  satisfy  your  desires.  And  now  you 
show  us  this  bitter  hatred  !  Unjust  woman,  what  have 
we  done  ? 

THAIS.  Leave  me,  or  let  me  leave  you.  Do  not 
touch  me.  You  can  tear  my  garments,  but  you  shall  not 
touch  me. 

LOVERS.  Cruel  Thais,  speak  to  us  !  Before  you  go, 
speak  to  us  ! 

THAIS.  I  have  sinned  with  you.  But  now 
is  the  end  of  sin,  dnd  all  our  wild  pleasures  are 
ended. 

LOVERS.  Thais,  do  not  leave  us  !  Thais,  where  are 
you  going  ? 

THAIS.  Where  none  of  you  will  ever  see  me 
again  ! 

LOVERS.  What  monstrous  thing  is  this  ?  Thais, 
glory  of  our  land,  is  changed  !  Thais,  our  delight,  who 
loved  riches  and  power  and  luxury — Thais,  who  gave 
herself  up  to  pleasure  day  and  night,  has  destroyed  past 
remedy  gold  and  gems  that  had  no  price  !  What 
monstrous  thing  is  this  ?  Thais,  the  very  flower  of 
love,  insults  her  lovers  and  scorns  their  gifts.  Thais, 
whose  boast  it  was  that  whoever  loved  her  should  enjoy 
her  love  !  What  monstrous  thing  is  this  ?  Thais  ! 
Thais  !   this  is  a  thing  not  to  be  believed. 

1 


ii4  THE  PLAYS  OF  ROSWITHA 

SCENE  V 

THAIS.  Paphnutius,  my  father,  I  am  ready  now  to 
obey  you,  command  what  you  will. 

PAPHNUTIUS.  Thais,  I  have  been  uneasy  during 
your  absence.  I  feared  you  had  been  caught  in  the 
wond's  snare.      I  feared  you  would  not  return. 

THAIS.  You  need  not  have  been  afraid.  The  world 
does  not  tempt  me  now.  My  possessions  are  ashes.  I 
have  publicly  renounced  my  lovers. 

PAPHNUTIUS.  Oh,  happy  guilt  that  has  brought 
such  happy  penitence  !  Since  you  have  renounced  your 
earthly  lovers,  you  can  now  be  joined  to  your  Heavenly 
Lover. 

THAIS.  It  is  for  you  to  show  me  the  way.  Be  a 
lantern  to  me,  for  all  is  obscure  night. 

PAPHNUTIUS.  Trust  me,  daughter.  Follow 
me. 

THAIS.  I  can  follow  you  with  my  feet.  Would  that 
I  could  follow  you  with  my  deeds  ! 

SCENE  VI 

THAIS.  Oh,  I  am  weary  ! 

PAPHNUTIUS.  Courage  !  Here  is  the  monastery 
where  a  famous  community  of  holy  virgins  live.  I  am 
anxious  for  you  to  pass  the  time  of  penance  here  if  you 
will  consent. 


PAPHNUTIUS  115 

THAIS.  I  do  not  resist.  I  wish  to  obey  you.  I  trust 
you. 

PAPHNUTIUS.  I  will  go  in,  and  persuade  the 
Abbess  who  is  the  head  of  the  community  to  receive 
you. 

THAIS.  And  what  shall  I  do  meanwhile  ?  Do  not 
leave  me  alone. 

PAPHNUTIUS.  You  shall  come  with  me.  But 
look  !  The  Abbess  has  come  out  to  meet  us.  I  wonder 
who  can  have  told  her  so  promptly  of  our  arrival. 

THAIS.  Rumour,  Father  Paphnutius.  Rumour 
never  delays. 

SCENE  VII 

PAPHNUTIUS.  You  come  opportunely,  illustrious 
Abbess.     I  was  just  seeking  you. 

ABBESS.  You  are  most  welcome,  venerated  Father 
Paphnutius.  Blessed  is  your  visit,  beloved  of  the  Most 
High. 

PAPHNUTIUS.  May  the  grace  of  Him  Who  is 
Father  of  all  pour  into  your  heart  the  beatitude  of  ever- 
lasting peace  ! 

ABBESS.  And  what  has  brought  your  holiness  to  my 
humble  dwelling  ? 

PAPHNUTIUS.  I  need  your  help. 

ABBESS.  Speak  but  the  word.  You  will  find  me  eager 
to  do  all  in  my  power  to  carry  out  your  wishes. 


n6  THE  PLAYS  OF  ROSWITHA 

PAPHNUTIUS.  Oh,  Abbess,  I  have  brought  you  a 
little  wild  gazelle  who  has  been  snatched  half  dead  from 
the  jaws  of  wolves.  Show  it  compassion,  nurse  it  with 
all  your  tenderness,  until  it  has  shed  its  rough  goatskin 
and  put  on  the  soft  fleece  of  a  lamb. 

ABBESS.  Explain  yourself  further. 

PAPHNUTIUS.  You  see  this  woman.  From  her 
youth  she  has  led  the  life  of  a  harlot.  She  has  given  herself 
up  to  base  pleasures 

ABBESS.  What  misery! 

PAPHNUTIUS.  She  cannot  offer  the  excuse  that 
she  was  a  Pagan  to  whom  such  pleasures  bring  no  remorse 
of  conscience.  She  wore  the  baptismal  robes  of  a  child  of 
God  when  she  gave  herself  to  the  flames  of  profane  love. 
She  was  not  tempted.  She  chose  this  evil  life.  She 
was  ruined  by  her  own  will. 

ABBESS.  She  is  the  more  unfortunate. 

PAPHNUTIUS.  Yet  such  is  the  power  of  Christ, 
that  at  His  word,  of  which  my  poor  mouth  was  the 
instrument,  she  has  fled  from  the  surroundings  which 
were  her  damnation.  Obedient  as  a  child,  she  has 
followed  me.  She  has  abandoned  lust  and  ease  and  idle 
luxury.     She  is  resolved  to  live  chastely. 

ABBESS.  Glory  to  the  Author  of  the  marvellous 
change  ! 

PAPHNUTIUS.  Amen.  But  since  the  maladies  of 
the  soul,  like  those  of  the  body,  need  physic  for  their 


PAPHNUTIUS  117 

cure,  we  must  minister  to  this  soul  diseased  by  years  of 
lust.  It  must  be  removed  from  the  foul  breath  of  the 
world.  A  narrow  cell,  solitude,  silence — these  must  be 
her  lot  henceforth.  She  must  learn  to  know  herself  and 
her  sins. 

ABBESS.  You  are  right.  Such  a  penance  is 
necessary. 

PAPHNUTIUS.  Will  you  give  orders  for  a  little 
cell  to  be  made  ready  as  soon  as  possible  ? 

ABBESS.  Yes,  my  father.  It  shall  be  done  as  quickly 
as  we  can. 

PAPHNUTIUS.  There  must  be  no  entrance,  no 
opening  of  any  kind,  except  a  small  window  through 
which  she  can  receive  the  food  that  will  be  brought 
her  on  certain  days  at  certain  fixed  hours.  A  pound 
of  bread,  and  water  according  to  her  need. 

ABBESS.  Forgive  me,  dear  father  in  God,  but  I  fear 
she  will  not  be  able  to  endure  such  a  rigorous  life.  The 
soul  may  be  willing,  but  that  fastidious  mind,  that  delicate 
body  used  to  luxury,  how  can  we  expect  them  to 
submit  ? 

PAPHNUTIUS.  Have  no  fear.  We  know  that 
grave  sin  demands  a  grave  remedy. 

ABBESS.  That  is  true,  yet  are  we  not  told  also  to 
hasten  slowly  ? 

PAPHNUTIUS.  Good  mother,  I  am  already  weary 
of  delay.     What  if  her  lovers  should  pursue  her  ?     What 


n8  THE  PLAYS  OF  ROSWITHA 

if  she  be  drawn  back  into  the  abyss  ?  I  am  impatient  to 
see  her  enclosed. 

ABBESS.  Nothing  stands  in  the  way  of  your  enclosing 
her  now.  The  cell  which  you  told  us  to  prepare  is 
ready. 

PAPHNUTIUS.  Then  enter,  Thais  !  This  is  just 
such  a  refuge  as  we  spoke  of  on  our  journey.  It  is  the 
very  place  for  you.  There  is  room  and  more  than  room 
here  for  you  to  weep  over  your  sins. 

THAIS.  How  small  it  is  !  How  dark  !  How  can  a 
delicate  woman  live  in  such  a  place  ? 

PAPHNUTIUS.  You  are  not  pleased  with  your  new 
dwelling  !  You  shudder  at  the  thought  of  entering  ! 
Oh,  Thais,  have  you  not  wandered  long  enough  without 
restraint  ?  Is  it  not  right  that  you  should  now  be  con- 
fined in  this  narrow,  solitary  cell,  where  you  will  find 
true  freedom  ? 

THAIS.  I  have  been  so  long  accustomed  to  pleasure 
and  distraction.  My  mind  is  still  a  slave  to  the 
senses. 

PAPHNUTIUS.  The  more  need  to  rein  it,  to  disci- 
pline it,  until  it  ceases  to  rebel. 

THAIS.  I  do  not  rebel — but  my  weakness  revolts 
against  one  thing  here. 

PAPHNUTIUS.  Of  what  do  you  speak? 

THAIS.  I  am  ashamed  to  say. 

PAPHNUTIUS.  Speak,  Thais!  Be  ashamed  of 
nothing  but  your  sins. 


PAPHNUTIUS  119 

THAIS.  Good  father,  what  could  be  more  repugnant 
than  to  have  to  attend  to  all  the  needs  of  the  body  in  this 
one  litde  room.   ...   It  will  soon  be  uninhabitable. 

PAPHNUTIUS.  Fear  the  cruel  punishments  of  the 
soul,  and  cease  to  dread  transitory  evils. 

THAIS.  My  weakness  makes  me  shudder. 

PAPHNUTIUS.  The  sweetness  of  your  guilty 
pleasures  was  far  more  bitter  and  foul. 

THAIS.  I  know  it  is  just.  What  grieves  me  most  is 
that  I  shall  not  have  one  clean  sweet  spot  in  which  to  call 
upon  the  sweet  name  of  God. 

PAPHNUTIUS.  Have  a  care,  Thais,  or  your  con- 
fidence may  become  presumption.  Should  polluted  lips 
utter  so  easily  the  name  of  the  unpolluted  Godhead  ? 

THAIS.  Oh,  how  can  I  hope  for  pardon  !  Who  will 
pity  me — who  save  me  !  What  shall  I  do  if  I  am  for- 
bidden to  invoke  Him  against  Whom  only  I  have  sinned  ! 
To  whom  should  I  pray  if  not  to  Him. 

PAPHNUTIUS.  You  must  indeed  pray  to  Him, 
but  with  tears,  not  with  words.  Let  not  a  tinkling  voice, 
but  the  mighty  roar  of  a  contrite  heart  sound  in  the  ear 
of  God. 

THAIS.  I  desire  His  pardon.  Surely  I  may  ask 
for  it  ? 

PAPHNUTIUS.  Oh,  Thais,  the  more  perfecdy  you 
humble  yourself,  the  more  swifdy  you  will  win  it !  Let 
your  heart  be  all  prayer,  but  let  your  lips  say  only  tliis : 
"  O  God  Who  made  me,  pity  me  !  " 


120  THE  PLAYS  OF  ROSWITHA 

THAIS.  O  God,  Who  made  mc.  pity  me  !  He 
alone  can  save  mc  from  defeat  in  this  hard  struggle  ! 

PAPHNUTIUS.  Fight  manfully,  and  you  will  gain 
a  glorious  victory. 

Til  \1>.  I;  ia  jrour  p.irt  to  pray  for  me  !  Pray  I  may 
earn  the  victor's  palm. 

PAPHNUTIUS.   Vou  need  not  remind  mc. 

THAIS.  Give  me  some  hope  ! 

PAPHNUTIUS.  Courage  !  The  palm  will  soon  be 
in  this  humble  hand.  It  is  time  for  me  to  return  to  the 
desert  I  owe  a  duty  to  my  dear  disciples.  I  know  their 
hearts  are  torn  by  my  absence.  Yes.  I  must  go.  Venerable 
Abbess,  I  trust  this  cap;  our  charity  and  tenderness. 

I  beg  you  to  take  the  best  care  of  her.  Sustain  her  delicate 
body  with  necessaries.  Refresh  her  >nu\  with  the  luxuries 
of  divine  knowledge. 

ABBESS.  Have  no  anxiety  about  her,  for  I  will  cherish 
her  with  a  mother's  love  and  tendenu 

PAPHNUTIUS.  I  go  then. 

ABBESS.   In  peace. 


SCENE  VIII 

DISCIPLES.   Who  knocks  there  ? 
PAPHNUTIUS.   It  is  I— your  father. 
DISCIPLES.  It  is  the  voice  of  our  father  Paphnutius  ! 
PAPHNUTIUS.   Unbolt  the  door. 


PAPHNUTIUS  121 

DISCIPLE.  Good  father,  welcome. 

ALL.  Welcome,  father  !     Welcome  ! 

PAPHNUTIUS.  A  blessing  on  you  all  ! 

DISCIPLE.  You  have  given  us  great  uneasiness  by 
your  long  absence. 

PAPHNUTIUS.  It  has  been  fruitful. 

DISCIPLE.  Your  mission  has  succeeded  ?  Come, 
tell  us  what  has  happened  to  Thais. 

PAPHNUTIUS.  All  that  I  wished. 

DISCIPLE.  She  has  abandoned  her  evil  life  ? 

PAPHNUTIUS.  Yes. 

DISCIPLE.  Where  is  she  living  now  ? 

PAPHNUTIUS.  She  weeps  over  her  sins  in  a  little 
cell. 

DISCIPLES.  Praise  be  to  the  Supreme  Trinity  ! 

PAPHNUTIUS.  A  little  narrow  cell,  no  wider  than 
a  grave.  Blessed  be  His  Terrible  Name  now  and  for 
ever. 

DISCIPLES.  Amen. 

SCENE  IX 

PAPHNUTIUS.  Three  years  of  her  penance  are 
over,  and  I  cannot  tell  whether  her  sorrow  has  found 
favour  with  God.  For  some  reason  He  will  not  en- 
lighten me.  I  know  what  I  will  do.  I  will  go  to  my 
brother  Antony  and  beg  him  to  intercede  for  me.  God 
will  make  the  truth  known  to  him. 


122  THE  PLAYS  OF  ROSWITHA 

SCENE  X 

ANTONY.  Who  comes  this  way  ?  By  his  dress  it 
is  some  brother-dweller  in  the  desert.  My  old  eyes  do 
not  recognize  you  yet,  friend.     Come  nearer. 

PAPHNUTIUS.  Brother  Antony  !  Do  you  not  know 
me  ? 

ANTONY.  This  is  joy  indeed  !  What  pleasures  God 
sends  us,  when  we  resign  ourselves  to  have  none  !  I  did 
not  think  to  see  my  brother  Paphnutius  again  in  this 
world.     Is  it  indeed  you,  brother  ? 

PAPHNUTIUS.  Yes,  it  is  I. 

ANTONY.  You  are  welcome,  very  welcome.  Your 
coming  gives  me  great  joy. 

PAPHNUTIUS.  I  am  no  less  rejoiced  to  see 
you. 

ANTONY.  But  what  is  the  cause  ?  What  has  brought 
Paphnutius  from  his  solitary  retreat  ?  He  is  not  sick,  I 
trust  ?     He  has  not  come  to  old  Antony  for  healing  ? 

PAPHNUTIUS.  No,  I  am  in  good  health. 

ANTONY.  That's  well  !     I  am  glad  of  it. 

PAPHNUTIUS.  Brother  Antony,  it  is  three  years 
since  my  peace  was  broken  and  disturbed  by  the 
persistent  vision  of  a  soul  in  peril.  I  heard  a  voice  calling 
me  night  and  day.  But  I  stopped  my  ears — fearing  my 
weakness.  I  thought  "  She  calls  me  to  ruin  me." 
"  No,  no,"  the  voice  said.  "  I  call  you  to  save  me." 

ANTONY.  A  woman's  voice  ! 


PAPHNUTIUS  123 

PAPHNUTIUS.  Before  my  vision  it  was  well 
known  to  us  all  that  in  the  great  town  on  the  edge  of  the 
desert  there  was  a  harlot  called  Thais,  through  whom 
many  were  destroyed  body  and  soul. 

ANTONY.   It  was  she  who  called  you  ! 

PAPHNUTIUS.  Brother  Antony,  it  was  God  who 
called  me.  My  disciples  opposed  me ;  nevertheless  I 
went  to  the  town  to  see  Thais  and  wresde  with  the  demon. 

ANTONY.  A  perilous  enterprise. 

PAPHNUTIUS.  I  went  to  her  in  the  disguise  of  a 
lover,  and  began  by  flattering  her  with  sweet  words. 
Then  I  threw  off  the  mask  and  brought  terror  to  her  soul 
with  bitter  reproaches  and  threats  of  God's  punishment. 

ANTONY.  A  prudent  course.  Hard  words  are 
necessary  when  natures  have  grown  soft  and  can  no 
longer  distinguish  between  good  and  evil. 

PAPHNUTIUS.  I  was  disarmed  by  her  docility. 
Truly,  brother  Antony,  my  heart  melted  like  wax  when 
she  spurned  her  ill-gotten  wealth  and  abandoned  her 
lovers. 

ANTONY.  But  you  hid  your  tenderness  ? 

PAPHNUTIUS.  Yes,  Brother  Antony. 

ANTONY.  What  followed  ? 

PAPHNUTIUS.  She  chose  to  live  in  chastity.  She 
consented  to  be  enclosed  in  a  narrow  cell.  She  accepted 
her  penance  with  sweetness  and  humility. 

ANTONY.  I  am  rejoiced  by  what  you  have  told  me  ! 
All  the  blood  in  my  old  veins  exults  and  rejoices  ! 


124  THE  PLAYS  OF  ROSWITHA 

PAPHNUTIUS.  That  is  because  you  are  a  saint. 

ANTONY.  Brother,  you  cannot  mean  that  you  are 
sad  ? 

PAPHNUTIUS.  I  rejoice  immeasurably  in  her  con- 
version. Yet  at  times  I  am  uneasy.  I  fear  that  the 
penance  may  have  been  too  long  and  severe  for  a  woman 
of  such  delicate  frame. 

ANTONY.  That  does  you  no  wrong.  Where  true 
love  is,  loving  compassion  is  not  wanting. 

PAPHNUTIUS.  I  came  to  beg  yours  for  Thais. 
Of  your  charity  give  me  your  prayers.  I  beg  you  and 
your  disciples  to  join  with  me  in  praying  for  a  sign.  Let 
us  persevere  in  prayer  until  it  is  shown  us  from  heaven 
that  the  penitent's  tears  have  moved  the  divine  mercy  to 
indulgence. 

ANTONY.  Brother  Paphnutius,  I  have  never  granted 
a  request  more  gladly.  Come,  we  will  gather  together 
my  disciples. 

PAPHNUTIUS.  I  know  that  God  will  listen  to  his 
good  servant  Antony. 

SCENE  XI 

ANTONY.  Thanks  be  to  God  !  The  gospel's 
promise  is  fulfilled  in  us  ! 

PAPHNUTIUS.  What  promise,  blessed  Antony  ? 

ANTONY.  Those  who  unite  in  prayer  can  obtain 
whatever  they  desire. 


/ 


PAPHNUTIUS  125 

PAPHNUTIUS.  What  miracle  has  happened? 
What  is  it  ? 

ANTONY.   My  disciple  Paul  has  had  a  vision. 

PAPHNUTIUS.   What  vision  ?     Oh,  call  him  ! 

ANTONY.  He  is  here.  Paul,  my  son,  tell  our 
brother,  Paphnutius,  the  wonders  you  have  seen. 

PAUL.  Father,  I  saw  in  my  vision  a  splendid  bed. 
It  was  adorned  with  white  hangings  and  coverings,  and 
a  crown  was  laid  on  it,  and  round  it  were  four  radiant 
virgins.  They  stood  there  as  if  they  were  guarding  the 
crown.  There  was  a  great  brightness  round  the  bed, 
and  a  multitude  of  angels.  I,  seeing  this  wonderful  and 
joyful  sight,  cried  out,  "  This  glory  must  be  for  my  master 
and  father  Antony  !  " 

ANTONY.  Son,  did  you  not  know  Antony  was 
unworthy  of  such  honour  ? 

PAUL.  But  a  divine  voice  answered  me,  saying, 
"  This  glory  is  prepared,  not,  as  you  think,  for  Antony, 
but  for  the  harlot,  Thais  !  " 

PAPHNUTIUS.  O  sweet  Christ !  How  shall  I  praise 
Thee  for  so  lovingly  sending  comfort  to  my  sad   heart  ? 

ANTONY.  He  is  worthy  to  be  praised. 

PAPHNUTIUS.  Then  farewell,  Brother  Antony. 
I  must  go  at  once  to  my  captive. 

ANTONY.  You  must  indeed.  It  is  time  her  valiant 
penance  ended.  You  should  assure  her  that  her  pardon 
is  complete  ;  you  should  fill  her  with  hope,  and  speak 
to  her  only  of  the  beatitude  in  store  for  her. 


126  THE  PLAYS  OF  ROSWITHA 

PAPHNUTIUS.  Your  blessing. 

SCENE  XII 

PAPHNUTIUS.  Thais,  my  little  daughter  !  Thais  ! 
Open  the  window  and  let  me  see  you. 

THAIS.  Who  speaks? 

PAPHNUTIUS.  Paphnutius. 

THAIS.  Why  should  you  visit  a  poor  sinner  ?  Why 
should  I  be  given  this  great  joy  and  happiness  ? 

PAPHNUTIUS.  These  years  that  I  have  been  absent 
from  you  in  the  body  have  been  weary  to  me  too.  I  have 
thought  of  you  night  and  day.  I  have  yearned  for  your 
salvation. 

THAIS.  I  never  doubted  that. 

PAPHNUTIUS.  Tell  me  how  things  are  with  you. 
How  have  you  lived  here  ?     What  have  you  been  doing  ? 

THAIS.  Nothing  worth  the  telling  !  I  have  nothing 
to  offer  God. 

PAPHNUTIUS.  The  offering  He  loves  best  is  a 
humble  spirit. 

THAIS.  All  I  have  done  is  to  gather  up  the  many  sins 
on  my  conscience  into  a  mighty  bundle  and  keep  them 
always  in  mind.  All  day  I  have  sat  gazing  towards  the 
East,  saying  only  this  one  prayer  :  "  O  God  Who  made 
me,  pity  me  !  "  If  my  bodily  senses  have  always  been 
conscious  of  the  offensiveness  of  this  place,  my  heart's 
eyes  have  never  been  blind  to  the  dreadfulness  of  hell. 


PAPHNUTIUS  127 

PAPHNUTIUS.  Your  great  penitence  has  won  a 
great  forgiveness.  Yet  God  has  not  pardoned  you  for 
your  valiant  expiation  so  much  as  for  the  love  with  which 
you  have  given  yourself  to  Christ. 

THAIS.   Can  that  be  true  ?     Would  that  it  were  ! 

PAPHNUTIUS.  Give  me  your  hand.  Let  me  bring 
you  out  of  your  cell  to  prove  you  are  forgiven. 

THAIS.  No,  father,  leave  me  here.  This  place  with 
all  its  uncleanness  is  best  for  me. 

PAPHNUTIUS.  The  time  has  come  for  you  to  cast 
away  your  fear,  and  hope  for  life  !  God  wishes  your 
penance  to  end. 

THAIS.  Let  the  angels  praise  Him  !  He  has  not 
despised  the  love  of  a  humble  sinner. 

PAPHNUTIUS.  Thais,  would  you  rejoice  if  now 
you  were  called  upon  to  lay  aside  this  body  ? 

THAIS.  Oh,  father,  my  soul  longs  to  escape  from 
this  earth. 

PAPHNUTIUS.  Thais,  you  have  finished  your 
course  here.  In  fifteen  days  you  will,  by  God's  grace, 
pass  straight  to  Paradise. 

THAIS.  To  Paradise  !  I  should  be  happy  if  I  might 
be  spared  hell's  torments  and  be  mercifully  cleansed  in 
a  gentle  fire  until  my  spirit  is  fit  for  the  eternal 
happiness. 

PAPHNUTIUS.  Grace  is  the  free  gift  of  God  and 
does  not  depend  on  our  merits.  If  it  did,  it  could  not  be 
called  grace. 


128  THE  PLAYS  OF  ROSWITHA 

THAIS.  For  this  let  the  choirs  of  heaven  praise  Him, 
and  all  the  little  twigs  and  fresh  green  leaves  on  earth, 
all  animals,  and  the  great  waters.  He  is  patient  with  us 
when  we  fall  !  He  is  generous  in  His  gifts  when  we 
repent. 

PAPHNUTIUS.  He  loves  to  be  merciful.  From  all 
eternity  He  has  preferred  pardon  to  punishment. 

SCENE  XIII 

THAIS.  Holy  father,  do  not  leave  me.  Be  near  to 
comfort  me  in  this  hour  of  my  death. 

PAPHNUTIUS.  I  will  not  leave  you,  Thais,  until 
your  soul  has  taken  flight  to  the  stars,  and  I  have  buried 
your  body. 

THAIS.  I  feel  the  end  is  near.  Brother,  do  not  leave 
me  ! 

PAPHNUTIUS.  Now  is  the  time  to  pray. 

THAIS.  O  God  Who  made  me,  pity  me  !  Grant  that 
the  soul  which  Thou  didst  breathe  into  me  may  now 
happily  return  to  Thee.   O  God  Who  made  me,  pity  me  ! 

PAPHNUTIUS.  Thais !  Thais  !  Oh,  loving  humble 
spirit,  pass  to  thy  glory  !  .  .  .  Angels  lead  her  into 
Paradise  !  .  .  .  O  uncreated  Beauty,  existing  in  Truth 
without  material  form,  grant  that  the  divers  parts  of  this 
human  body  now  to  be  dissolved  may  return  to  their 
original  elements  !  Grant  that  the  soul,  given  from  on 
high,  may  soar  into  light  and  joy,  and  that  the  body  may 


PAPHNUTIUS  129 

be  cherished  peacefully  in  the  soft  lap  of  the  earth  until 
that  day  when,  the  ashes  being  brought  together  again, 
and  the  life-giving  sap  restored  to  the  veins,  this  same 
Thais  may  rise  again,  a  perfect  human  being  as  before, 
and  take  her  place  among  the  glorious  white  flock  who 
shall  be  led  into  the  joy  of  eternity  !  Grant  this,  O 
Thou  Who  alone  art  what  Thou  art — Who  livest  and 
reignest  and  art  glorious  in  the  Unity  and  perfect  Trinity 
through  infinite  ages  ! 


SAPIENTIA 

ARGUMENT 

The  martyrdom  of  the  holy  virgins  Faith,  Hope,  and 
Charity,  who  are  put  to  the  torture  by  the  Emperor 
Hadrian  and  slain  in  the  presence  of  their  mother 
Sapientia,  she  encouraging  them  by  her  admonitions  to 
bear  their  sufferings.  After  their  death  the  holy  mother 
recovers  the  bodies  of  her  children,  embalms  them  with 
spices,  and  buries  them  with  honour  about  five  miles 
outside  the  city  of  Rome. 

Forty  days  later  the  spirit  of  Sapientia  takes  its  flight 
to  heaven  while  she  is  still  praying  by  her  children's 
graves. 


CHARACTERS 


ANTIOCHUS. 

HADRIAN. 

SAPIENTIA. 

FAITH. 

HOPE. 

CHARITY. 

MATRONS. 


SAPIENTIA 

SCENE  I 

ANTIOCHUS.  My  Lord  Emperor,  what  desire  has 
your  servant  but  to  see  you  powerful  and  prosperous  ? 
What  ambition  apart  from  the  welfare  and  peace  and 
greatness  of  the  state  you  rule  ?  So  when  I  discover 
anything  that  threatens  the  commonwealth  or  your  peace 
of  mind  I  try  to  crush  it  before  it  has  taken  root. 

HADRIAN.  In  this  you  show  discretion,  Antiochus. 
Our  prosperity  means  your  advantage.  Witness  the 
honours  that  we  never  tire  of  heaping  on  you. 

ANTIOCHUS.  Your  Grace's  welfare  is  so  dear  to 
me  that  I  do  not  seek  to  disguise  what  is  hostile  to  your 
interests,  but  immediately  bring  it  to  your  notice  and 
denounce  it  ! 

HADRIAN.  Do  you  praise  yourself  for  this  ?  If  you 
withheld  such  information  you  would  be  guilty  of  treason 
to  our  Imperial  Majesty. 

ANTIOCHUS.  I  have  never  been  disloyal. 

HADRIAN.  I  do  not  question  it.  Come,  if  you  have 
discovered  some  new  danger,  make  it  known  to  us. 


134  THE  PLAYS  OF  ROSWITHA 

ANTIOCHUS.  A  certain  alien  woman  has  recently 
come  to  this  city  with  her  three  children. 

HADRIAN.  Of  what  sex  are  the  children  ? 

ANTIOCHUS.  They  are  all  girls. 

HADRIAN.  And  you  think  that  a  handful  of  women 
threaten  danger  to  the  state  ? 

ANTIOCHUS.  I  do,  and  very  grave  danger. 

HADRIAN.  Of  what  kind? 

ANTIOCHUS.  A  disturbance  of  the  peace. 

HADRIAN.  How? 

ANTIOCHUS.  What  disturbs  the  peace  and  harmony 
of  states  more  than  religious  differences  ? 

HADRIAN.  I  grant  you  that.  The  whole  Roman 
Empire  witnesses  to  the  serious  troubles  they  can  cause. 
The  body  politic  is  infected  by  the  corpses  of  slaughtered 
Christians. 

ANTIOCHUS.  This  woman  of  whom  I  speak  is 
u  rging  the  people  of  this  country  to  abandon  the  religion 
of  their  fathers  and  embrace  the  Christian  faith. 

HADRIAN.  But  have  her  words  any  effect  ? 

ANTIOCHUS.  Indeed  they  have.  Our  wives  hate 
and  scorn  us  to  such  an  extent  that  they  will  not  deign  to 
eat  with  us,  still  less  share  our  beds. 

HADRIAN.  This  is  a  real  danger,  I  admit. 

ANTIOCHUS.  You  must  protect  yourself. 

HADRIAN.  That  stands  to  reason.  Let  the  woman 
be  brought  before  me,  and  I  will  examine  her  and  see  what 
can  be  done. 


SAPIENTIA  135 

ANTIOCHUS.  You  wish  me  to  summon  her  ? 
HADRIAN.  I  have  said  it. 

SCENE  II 

ANTIOCHUS.  Foreign  woman,  what  is  your  name  ? 

SAPIENTIA.  Sapientia. 

ANTIOCHUS.  The  Emperor  Hadrian  orders  you 
to  present  yourself  at  the  palace. 

SAPIENTIA.  I  am  not  afraid  to  go.  I  have  a  noble 
escort  in  my  daughters.  Nor  do  I  tremble  at  the  thought 
of  meeting  your  scowling  Emperor  face  to  face. 

ANTIOCHUS.  It  is  the  way  of  you  Christian  rabble 
to  defy  authority. 

SAPIENTIA.  We  acknowledge  the  authority  of  Him 
Who  rules  the  world  ;  we  know  that  He  will  not  let  His 
subjects  be  vanquished. 

ANTIOCHUS.  Not  so  much  talk.  To  the  palace. 

SAPIENTIA.  Go  before  us  and  show  the  way.  We 
will  follow  you. 

SCENE  III 

ANTIOCHUS.  That  is  the  Emperor  you  see  there, 
seated  on  his  throne.    Be  careful  what  you  say  to  him. 

SAPIENTIA.  The  word  of  Christ  forbids  us  to  take 
thought  as  to  what  we  ought  to  say.  His  wisdom  is 
sufficient  for  us. 

HADRIAN.  Are  you  there,  Antiochus  ? 


136  THE  PLAYS  OF  ROSWITHA 

ANTIOCHUS.  At  your  service,  my  lord. 
HADRIAN.  Are  these  the  women  whom  you  have 
arrested  on  account  of  their  Christian  opinions  ? 

ANTIOCHUS.  Yes,  lord. 

HADRIAN.  I  am  amazed  at  their  beauty ;  I  cannot 
help  admiring  their  noble  and  dignified  manner. 

ANTIOCHUS.  Waste  no  time  in  admiring  them,  my 
lord.     Make  them  worship  the  gods. 

HADRIAN.  It  would  be  wiser  to  ask  it  as  a  favour  to 
me  at  first.     Then  they  may  yield. 

ANTIOCHUS.  That  may  be  best.  This  frail  sex 
is  easily  moved  by  flattery. 

HADRIAN.  Noble  matron,  if  you  desire  to  enjoy 
my  friendship,  I  ask  you  in  all  gentleness  to  join  me  in 
an  act  of  worship  of  the  gods. 

SAPIENTIA.  We  have  no  desire  for  your  friendship. 
And  we  refuse  to  worship  your  gods. 

HADRIAN.  You  will  try  in  vain  to  rouse  my  anger. 
I  feel  no  indignation  against  you.  I  appeal  to  you  and 
your  daughters  as  lovingly  as  if  I  were  their  own  father. 

SAPIENTIA.  My  children  are  not  to  be  cozened  by 
such  diabolical  flattery.     They  scorn  it  as  I  do. 

FAITH.  Yes,  and  laugh  at  it  in  our  hearts. 

ANTIOCHUS.  What  are  you  muttering  there  ? 

SAPIENTIA.  I  was  speaking  to  my  daughters. 

HADRIAN.  I  judge  from  appearances  that  you  are 
of  noble  race,  but  I  would  know  more — to  what  country 
and  family  you  belong,  and  your  name. 


SAPIENTIA  137 

SAPIENTIA.  Although  we  take  no  pride  in  it,  I  come 
of  noble  stock. 

HADRIAN.  That  is  easy  to  believe. 

SAPIENTIA.  My  parents  were  princes  of  Greece, 
and  I  am  called  Sapientia. 

HADRIAN.  The  splendour  of  your  ancestry  is 
blazoned  in  your  face,  and  the  wisdom  of  your  name 
sparkles  on  your  lips. 

SAPIENTIA.  You  need  not  waste  your  breath  in 
flattering  us.  We  are  not  to  be  conquered  by  fair  speeches. 

HADRIAN.  Why  have  you  left  your  own  people  and 
come  to  live  here  ? 

SAPIENTIA.  For  no  other  reason  than  that  we 
wished  to  know  the  truth.  I  came  to  learn  more  of  the 
faith  which  you  persecute,  and  to  consecrate  my  daughters 
to  Christ. 

HADRIAN.  Tell  me  their  names. 

SAPIENTIA.  The  eldest  is  called  Faith,  the  second 
Hope,  the  youngest  Charity. 

HADRIAN.  And  how  old  are  they  ? 

SAPIENTIA.  What  do  you  say,  children  ?  Shall  I 
puzzle  his  dull  brain  with  some  problems  in  arithmetic  ? 

FAITH.  Do,  mother.     It  will  give  us  joy  to  hear  you. 

SAPIENTIA.  As  you  wish  to  know  the  ages  of  my 
children,  O  Emperor,  Charity  has  lived  a  diminished 
evenly  even  number  of  years ;  Hope  a  number  also 
diminished,  but  evenly  uneven  ;  and  Faith  an  augmented 
number,  unevenly  even. 


138  THE  PLAYS  OF  ROSWITHA 

HADRIAN.  Your  answer  leaves  me  in  ignorance. 

SAPIENTIA.  That  is  not  surprising,  since  not  one 
number,  but  many,  come  under  this  definition. 

HADRIAN.  Explain  more  clearly,  otherwise  how  can 
I  follow  you  ? 

SAPIENTIA.  Charity  has  now  completed  two 
olympiads,  Hope  two  lustres,  and  Faith  three  olympiads. 

HADRIAN.  I  am  curious  to  know  why  the  number 
"  8,"  which  is  two  olympiads,  and  the  number  "  10," 
which  is  two  lustres,  are  called  "  diminished  "  ;  also  why 
the  number  "  12,"  which  is  made  up  of  three  olympiads, 
is  said  to  be  "  augmented." 

SAPIENTIA,  Every  number  is  said  to  be  "  dimin- 
ished "  the  parts  of  which  when  added  together  give  a 
sum  which  is  less  than  the  number  of  which  they  are 
parts.  Such  a  number  is  8.  For  the  half  of  8  is  4,  the 
quarter  of  8  is  2,  and  the  eighth  of  8  is  1  ;  and  these 
added  together  give  7.  It  is  the  same  with  10.  Its  half  is 
5,  its  fifth  part  2,  its  tenth  part  1,  and  these  added 
together  give  8.  On  the  other  hand,  a  number  is  said  to 
be  "  augmented  "  when  its  parts  added  together  exceed 
it.  Such,  for  instance,  is  12.  Its  half  is  6,  its  third  4, 
its  fourth  3,  its  sixth  2,  its  twelfth  1,  and  the  sum  of  these 
figures  16.  And  in  accordance  with  the  principle  which 
decrees  that  between  all  excesses  shall  rule  the  exquisite 
proportion  of  the  mean,  that  number  is  called  "  perfect " 
the  sum  of  the  parts  of  which  is  equal  to  its  whole.  Such 
a  number  is  6,  whose  parts — a  third,  a  half,  and  a  sixth — 


SAPIENTIA  139 

added  together,  come  to  6.  For  the  same  reason  28, 
496,  and  8000  are  called  "  perfect." 

HADRIAN.  And  what  of  the  other  numbers  ? 

SAPIENTIA.  They  are  all  either  augmented  or 
diminished. 

HADRIAN.  And  that  "  evenly  even "  number  of 
which  you  spoke  ? 

SAPIENTIA.  That  is  one  which  can  be  divided  into 
two  equal  parts,  and  these  parts  again  into  two  equal 
parts,  and  so  on  in  succession  until  we  come  to  indivisible 
unity:  8  and  16  and  all  numbers  obtained  by  doubling 
them  are  examples. 

HADRIAN.  Continue.  We  have  not  heard  yet  of 
the  "  evenly  uneven  "  number. 

SAPIENTIA.  One  which  can  be  divided  by  two, 
but  the  parts  of  which  after  that  are  indivisible  :  10  is 
such  a  number,  and  all  others  obtained  by  doubling  odd 
numbers.  They  differ  from  the  "  evenly  even  "  numbers 
because  in  them  only  the  minor  term  can  be  divided, 
whereas  in  the  "  evenly  even  "  the  major  term  is  also 
capable  of  division.  In  the  first  type,  too,  all  the  parts 
are  evenly  even  in  name  and  in  quantity,  whereas  in  the 
second  type  when  the  division  is  even  the  quotient  is 
uneven,  and  vice  versa. 

HADRIAN.  I  am  not  familiar  with  these  terms,  and 
divisors  and  quotients  alike  mean  nothing  to  me.* 

*  It  has  been  my  duty  to  preserve  this  rather  tire- 
some   numerical    discourse,    which    no    doubt    Koswitha 


i4o  THE  PLAY  ;  ITHA 

MA     Wht  ■  "jdc  arc 

he  fin:  n  is  called  the  "  minor 

tern:  making  a 

:mbcr   is   to   be 
jt  when  we  cr 

ct  fort. 
"  qi; 

1  [ADRIAN  "  numbers  ? 

not  only  once,  but  sometime 
D  four  times,  but  i  blc  un: 

HADRIAN.   Little  did 

-  of  the  could  give  •  h  an 

•'.table  dissertation. 
IPIENTIA.    Il   v.  .iuld  be  ur.; 

m  of  our  C  and  the 

irous  knowledge  c:  thor  of  the  Who  in 

the  beginning  i  :ld  out  of  nothing,  ar. 

g  in  nun.:  :ght,  and  then, 

in  ti:  I  the  age  of  man,  formula-  cr.ee  v. 

rev  idy  it. 


in  trod  u  i 

submitted    I  a;vc    it 

light    on    the    stud; 

dern 
Engl; 

. hange 
example,    "  tnd    "  (;  sub- 

lted  for  "  denomination  '*  and  "  quantr. 


SAPIENTIA  141 

HADRIAN.  I  had  my  reasons  for  enduring  your 
lecture  with  patience.     I  hope  to  persuade  you  to  submit. 

SAPIENTIA.  To  what? 

HADRIAN.  To  worshipping  the  gods. 

SAPIENTIA.  That  we  can  never  do. 

HADRIAN.  Take  warning.  If  you  are  obstinate,  you 
will  be  put  to  the  torture. 

SAPIENTIA.  It  is  in  your  power  to  kill  the  body, 
but  you  will  not  succeed  in  harming  the  soul. 

ANTIOCHUS.  The  day  has  passed,  and  the  night  is 
falling.    This  is  no  time  to  argue.     Supper  is  ready. 

HADRIAN.  Let  these  women  be  taken  to  the  prison 
near  our  palace,  and  give  them  three  days  to  reflect. 

ANTIOCHUS.  Soldiers,  see  that  these  women  are 
well  guarded  and  given  no  chance  of  escape. 

SCENE  IV 

SAPIENTIA.  Oh,  my  dearest  ones  !  My  beloved 
children  !  Do  not  let  this  narrow  prison  sadden  you. 
Do  not  be  frightened  by  the  threat  of  sufferings  to  come. 

FAITH.  Our  weak  bodies  may  dread  the  torture,  but 
our  souls  look  forward  with  joy  to  the  reward. 

SAPIENTIA.  You  are  only  children,  but  your  under- 
standing is  ripe  and  strong.  It  will  triumph  over  your 
tender  years. 

HOPE.  You  must  help  us  with  your  prayers.  Then 
we  shall  conquer. 


142  THE  PLAYS  OF  ROSWITHA 

SAPIENTIA.  This  I  pray  without  ceasing,  this  I 
implore — that  you  may  stand  firm  in  the  faith  which 
I  instilled  into  you  while  you  were  infants  at  my 
breast. 

CHARITY.  Can  we  forget  what  we  learned  there  ? 
Never. 

SAPIENTIA.  I  gave  you  milk.  I  nourished  and 
cherished  you,  that  I  might  wed  you  to  a  heavenly  bride- 
groom, not  to  an  earthly  one.  I  trusted  that  for  your 
dear  sakes  I  might  be  deemed  worthy  of  being  received 
into  the  family  of  the  Eternal  King. 

FAITH.   For  His  love  we  are  all  ready  to  die. 

SAPIENTIA.  Oh,  children,  your  words  are  sweeter 
to  me  than  nectar  ! 

HOPE.  When  we  come  before  the  tribunal  you  will 
see  what  courage  our  love  will  give  us. 

SAPIENTIA.  Your  mother  will  be  crowned  by  your 
virginity  and  glorified  by  your  martyrdom. 

CHARITY.  Let  us  go  hand  in  hand  to  the  tyrant  and 
make  him  feel  ashamed. 

SAPIENTIA.  We  must  wait  till  the  hour  comes 
when  we  are  summoned. 

FAITH.  We  chafe  at  the  delay,  but  we  must  be 
patient. 

SCENE  V 

HADRIAN.  Antiochus,  bring  the  Greek  prisoners 
before  us. 


SAPIENTIA  143 

ANTIOCHUS.  Step  forward,  Sapientia.  The  Em- 
peror has  asked  for  you  and  your  daughters. 

SAPIENTIA.  Walk  with  me  bravely,  children,  and 
persevere  with  one  mind  in  the  faith.  Think  only  of  the 
happiness  before  you — of  the  martyr's  palm. 

HOPE.  We  are  ready.  And  He  is  with  us  for  Whose 
love  we  arc  to  be  led  to  death. 

HADRIAN.  The  three  days'  respite  which  of  our 
clemency  we  granted  you  is  over.  If  you  have  profited 
by  it,  obey  our  commands. 

SAPIENTIA.  We  have  profited  by  it.  It  has 
strengthened  our  determination  not  to  yield. 

ANTIOCHUS.  It  is  beneath  your  dignity  to  bandy 
words  with  this  obstinate  woman.  Have  you  not  had 
enough  of  her  insolence  and  presumption  ? 

HADRIAN.  Am  I  to  send  her  away  unpunished  ? 

ANTIOCHUS.  By  no  means. 

HADRIAN.   What  then  ? 

ANTIOCHUS.  Address  yourself  to  the  little  girls. 
If  they  defy  you,  do  not  spare  them  because  of  their 
tender  years,  but  have  them  put  to  death.  That  will 
teach  their  obstinate  mother  a  lesson. 

HADRIAN.   I  will  do  as  you  advise. 

ANTIOCHUS.  This  way  you  will  succeed. 

HADRIAN.  Faith,  there  is  the  venerated  statue  of 
the  great  Diana.  Carry  a  libation  to  the  holy  goddess, 
and  you  will  win  her  favour. 

FAITH.  What  a  foolish  man  the  Emperor  must  be 
to  give  such  an  order  ! 


144  THE  PLAYS  OF  ROSWITHA 

HADRIAN.  What  are  you  muttering  there  ?   Behave 
yourself  and  do  not  laugh. 

FAITH.  How  can  I  help  laughing  ?    Such  a  lack  of 
wisdom  is  ludicrous. 

HADRIAN.  Whose  lack  of  wisdom? 

FAITH.  Why,  yours  ! 

ANTIOCHUS.  You  dare  to  speak  to  the  Emperor  so  ! 

FAITH.  I  speak  the  truth. 

ANTIOCHUS.  This  is  not  to  be  endured  ! 

FAITH.  What  is  it  but  folly  to  tell  us  to  insult  the 
Creator  of  the  world  and  worship  a  bit  of  metal ! 

ANTIOCHUS.  This  girl  is  crazy — a  raving  lunatic ! 
She  calls  the  ruler  of  the  world  a  fool ! 

FAITH.  I  have  said  it,  and  I  am  ready  to  repeat  it. 
I  shall  not  take  back  my  words  as  long  as  I  live. 

ANTIOCHUS.  That  will  not  be  long.    You  deserve 
to  die  at  once  for  such  impudence. 

FAITH.  I   wish  for  nothing   better   than  death  in 
Christ. 

HADRIAN.  Enough  of  this  !      Let  ten  centurions 
take  turns  in  flaying  her  with  scourges. 

ANTIOCHUS.   She  deserves  it. 

HADRIAN.  Most  valiant  centurions,  approach,  and 
wipe  out  the  insult  which  has  been  offered  us. 
ANTIOCHUS.  That  is  the  way. 

HADRIAN.  Ask   her   now,   Antiochus,   if  she   will 
yield. 

ANTIOCHUS.  Faith,  will  you  now  withdraw  your 


SAPIENTIA  145 

insults  to   the   Imperial   Majesty,  and   promise  not  to 
repeat  them  ? 

FAITH.  Why  now? 

ANTIOCHUS.  The  scourging  should  have  brought 
you  to  your  senses. 

FAITH.  These  whips  cannot  silence  me,  as  they  do 
not  hurt  at  all. 

ANTIOCHUS.  Cursed  obstinacy  !  Was  there  ever 
such  insolence  ? 

HADRIAN.  Although  her  body  weakens  under  the 
chastisement,  her  spirit  is  still  swollen  with  pride. 

FAITH.  Hadrian,  you  are  wrong.  It  is  not  I  who 
am  weakening,  but  your  executioners.  They  sweat  and 
faint  with  fatigue. 

HADRIAN.  Antiochus,  tell  them  to  cut  the  nipples 
off  her  breasts.     The  shame  will  cow  her. 

ANTIOCHUS.  I  care  not  about  the  means,  so  long 
as  she  is  forced  to  yield. 

FAITH.  You  have  wounded  my  pure  breast,  but  you 
have  not  hurt  me.  And  look  !  Instead  of  blood  a  stream 
of  milk  gushes  from  my  wounds. 

HADRIAN.  Put  her  on  a  gridiron,  and  let  fire  be 
placed  beneath  so  that  she  may  be  roasted  to  death. 

ANTIOCHUS.  She  deserves  a  terrible  death  for  her 
boldness  in  defying  you. 

FAITH.  All  you  do  to  cause  me  suffering  is  a  source 
of  bliss  to  me.  I  am  as  happy  on  this  gridiron  as  if  it 
were  a  little  boat  at  sea  ! 


146  THE  PLAYS  OF  ROSWITHA 

HADRIAN.  Bring  a  brazier  full  of  pitch  and  wax, 
and  place  it  on  the  fire.  Then  fling  this  rebellious  girl 
into  the  boiling  liquid. 

FAITH.  I  will  leap  into  it  joyfully  of  my  own 
accord. 

HADRIAN.  So  be  it. 

FAITH.  I  laugh  at  your  threats.  Look  !  Am  I  hurt  ? 
I  am  swimming  merrily  in  the  boiling  pitch.  Its  fierce 
heat  seems  as  cool  to  me  as  the  morning  dew. 

HADRIAN.  Antiochus,  what  can  we  do  with  her  ? 

ANTIOCHUS.  She  must  not  escape. 

HADRIAN.  She  shall  be  beheaded. 

ANTIOCHUS.  That  seems  the  only  way  of  con- 
quering her. 

FAITH.  Now  let  my  soul  rejoice  and  exult  in  the 
Lord. 

SAPIENTIA.  O  Christ,  invincible  Conqueror  of 
Satan,  give  my  child,  Faith,  endurance  to  the  end  ! 

FAITH.  Holy  and  dear  mother,  say  a  last  farewell 
to  your  daughter.  Kiss  your  firstborn,  but  do  not  mourn 
for  me,  for  my  hands  are  outstretched  to  the  reward  of 
eternity. 

SAPIENTIA.  Oh,  my  daughter,  my  darling  dear, 
I  am  not  dismayed — I  am  not  distressed  !  I  bid  you  fare- 
well rejoicing.  I  kiss  your  mouth  and  eyes,  weeping  for 
joy.  My  only  prayer  is  that  beneath  the  executioner's 
sword  you  may  keep  the  mystery  of  your  name  inviolate. 

FAITH.  Oh,   my  sisters,   born  of  the  same  womb, 


SAPIENTIA  147 

give  me  the  kiss  of  peace,  and  prepare  yourselves  for  the 
struggle  ! 

HOPE.  Help  us  with  your  prayers.  Pray  with  all 
your  might  that  we  may  be  found  worthy  to  follow  in 
your  footsteps. 

FAITH.  Listen  to  the  words  of  our  holy  mother.  She 
has  always  taught  us  to  despise  the  things  of  earth  that  we 
may  gain  those  which  are  eternal. 

CHARITY.  We  shall  obey  her  in  everything.  We 
want  to  be  worthy  of  eternal  joy. 

FAITH.  Come,  executioner,  do  your  duty,  and  put 
an  end  to  my  life. 

SAPIENTIA.  I  embrace  the  severed  head  of  my  dead 
child,  and  as  I  cover  it  with  kisses  I  praise  Thee,  O  Christ, 
Who  hast  given  the  victory  to  a  little  maid. 

HADRIAN.  Hope,  listen  to  me.  Believe  me,  I  advise 
you  with  fatherly  affection. 

HOPE.  What  advice  do  you  give  me  ? 

HADRIAN.  I  beg  you  not  to  imitate  your  mis- 
guided sister.  I  would  not  have  you  undergo  the  same 
torture. 

HOPE.  Would  that  I  were  worthy  to  imitate  her 
sufferings,  and  so  win  a  reward  like  hers  ! 

HADRIAN.  Do  not  harden  your  young  heart,  but 
give  way  and  burn  incense  before  great  Diana.  Then  I 
will  adopt  you  as  my  own  child,  and  love  you  most 
tenderly. 

HOPE.   I  should  not  care  to  have  you  for  a  father, 


148  THE  PLAYS  OF  ROSWITHA 

and  I  want  no  favours  from  you.    You  deceive  yourself 
with  vain  hopes  if  you  suppose  that  I  shall  submit. 

HADRIAN.  Be  more  careful  in  your  speech  or  you 
will  make  me  angry. 

HOPE.  Be  angry.  What  is  it  to  me  ? 

ANTIOCHUS.  I  am  amazed,  Augustus,  that  you 
should  tolerate  for  a  moment  such  insolence  from  a  pert 
little  child  !  I  boil  with  indignation  that  she  should  be 
allowed  such  licence. 

HADRIAN.  I  wished  to  be  merciful  to  her  youth, 
but  I  can  no  longer  be  indulgent.  She  shall  be  punished 
as  she  deserves. 

ANTIOCHUS.  I  wish  that  were  possible. 

HADRIAN.  Come,  lictors,  and  scourge  this  little 
rebel  to  death  with  your  heaviest  rods. 

ANTIOCHUS.  She  deserves  to  feel  the  full  weight 
of  your  anger,  as  she  has  mocked  your  gracious  clemency. 

HOPE.  Here  is  the  only  clemency  for  which  I  long — 
here  the  only  mercy  I  crave. 

ANTIOCHUS.  Sapientia,  what  are  you  murmuring 
there,  standing  with  uplifted  eyes  by  the  body  of  your 
dead  child  ? 

SAPIENTIA.  I  am  imploring  Almighty  God  to  give 
Hope  the  same  firm  courage  that  He  gave  Faith. 

HOPE.  Oh,  mother,  mother  !  How  wonderful  are 
your  prayers  !  Even  as  you  prayed  the  uplifted  hands  of 
the  panting  executioners  became  powerless.  I  have  not 
felt  a  twinge  of  pain. 


SAPIENTIA  149 

HADRIAN.  So  you  do  not  mind  scourging  !  We  will 
try  some  sharper  torture. 

HOPE.  The  most  savage  and  deadly  you  can  invent  ! 
The  more  cruelty  you  show  the  greater  will  be  your 
humiliation. 

HADRIAN.  Let  her  be  suspended  in  the  air,  and 
lacerated  with  nails  until  her  bowels  gush  forth,  and  the 
skin  is  stripped  from  her  bones.  Break  her  to  pieces 
limb  by  limb. 

ANTIOCHUS.  That  order  is  worthy  of  an  emperor. 
The  punishment  fits  the  crime. 

HOPE.  Oh,  Antiochus,  you  are  as  crafty  as  a  fox,  but 
you  flatter  with  the  cunning  of  a  chameleon. 

ANTIOCHUS.  Be  quiet,  you  wretch  !  I  thank  the 
gods  you  will  soon  not  have  a  mouth  to  prattle  with. 

HOPE.  It  will  not  be  as  you  hope.  Both  you  and  your 
master  will  be  put  to  confusion. 

HADRIAN.  What  is  this  strange  sweetness  in  the 
air  ?  If  I  am  not  mistaken  a  marvellous  perfume  fills  the 
room. 

HOPE.  O  Emperor,  the  torn  shreds  of  my  flesh  are 
giving  forth  a  heavenly  fragrance  to  make  you  admit 
that  you  have  no  power  to  hurt  me  by  torture  ! 

HADRIAN.  Antiochus,  advise  me. 

ANTIOCHUS.  We  must  think  of  some  other 
punishment. 

HADRIAN.  Put  in  the  brazier  a  vessel  full  of  oil  and 
wax  and  pitch.     Bind  her  and  throw  her  in. 


i5o  THE  PLAYS  OF  ROSWITHA 

ANTIOCHUS.  Yes,  she  will  not  find  it  so  easy  to 
escape  from  Vulcan. 

HOPE.  Christ  has  before  now  made  fire  grow  mild 
and  change  its  nature. 

HADRIAN.  Antiochus,  what  is  that  sound  ?  I  seem 
to  hear  a  noise  like  that  of  rushing  waters. 

ANTIOCHUS.  My  lord  !  My  lord  ! 

HADRIAN.  What  has  happened  ? 

ANTIOCHUS.  The  boiling  fire  has  burst  the 
cauldron  !  It  has  overflowed  and  consumed  every  man 
near  it.  Only  the  vile  witch  who  caused  the  disaster  has 
escaped  unhurt. 

HADRIAN.  It  seems  we  are  worsted. 

ANTIOCHUS.  Yes,  we  can  do  nothing. 

HADRIAN.  She  must  be  beheaded  like  the  other. 

ANTIOCHUS.  By  the  sword  only  can  she  be 
destroyed. 

HOPE.  Charity,  my  dear,  my  only  sister,  have  no 
fear  of  the  tyrant's  threats,  and  do  not  wince  at  the 
thought  of  suffering.  Be  strong  in  faith,  and  strive  to 
follow  the  example  of  your  sisters  who  are  going  before 
you  to  the  palace  of  heaven. 

CHARITY.  I  am  weary  of  this  earth.  I  do  not  want 
to  be  separated  from  you  even  for  a  short  time. 

HOPE.  Have  courage  !  Stretch  out  your  hands  to 
the  palm.  We  shall  be  separated  only  for  a  moment. 
Soon,  very  soon,  we  shall  be  together  in  heaven. 

CHARITY.  Soon!     Soon! 


SAPIENTIA  151 

HOPE.  Be  joyful,  noble  mother  !  Do  not  grieve  for 
me.  You  should  laugh,  not  weep,  to  see  me  die  for 
Christ. 

SAPIENTIA.  Indeed  I  do  rejoice,  but  my  joy  will 
be  full  only  when  your  little  sister  has  followed  you, 
slain  in  the  same  way — and  when  my  turn  comes,  mine 
last  of  all. 

HOPE.  The  blessed  Trinity  will  give  you  back  your 
three  children. 

SAPIENTIA.  Courage,  my  child  !  The  executioner 
comes  towards  us  with  drawn  sword. 

HOPE.  Welcome,  sword  !  Do  Thou,  O  Christ, 
receive  my  soul  driven  from  its  bodily  mansion  for  the 
confession  of  Thy  Name. 

SAPIENTIA.  Oh,  Charity,  lovely  offspring  of  my 
womb,  the  one  hope  of  my  bosom,  do  not  disappoint 
your  mother  who  expects  you  to  win  this  last  fight  ! 
Despise  safety  now,  and  you  will  attain  the  same  glory 
which  shines  on  your  sisters,  and,  like  them,  wear  the 
crown  of  unspotted  virginity. 

CHARITY.  Support  me  with  your  holy  prayers, 
mother.  Pray  that  I  may  be  worthy  to  share  their 
joy. 

SAPIENTIA.  Stand  fast  in  the  faith  to  the  end,  and 
your  reward  will  be  an  everlasting  holiday. 

HADRIAN.  Now,  little  Charity.  Your  sisters'  inso- 
lence has  exhausted  my  patience  and  exasperated  me. 
I  want  no  more  long  speeches.     I  shall  not  waste  much 


152  THE  PLAYS  OF  ROSWITHA 

time  on  you.  Obey  my  commands,  and  you  shall  enjoy 
all  the  good  things  this  life  has  to  offer.  Disobey,  and  evil 
will  fall  on  you. 

CHARITY.  I  long  for  the  good  things.  I  will  not 
have  the  evil. 

HADRIAN.  That  pleases  me,  and  you  shall  profit 
by  it.     I  will  be  indulgent  and  set  you  an  easy  task. 

CHARITY.  What  is  it  ? 

HADRIAN.  You  shall  say  "  Great  is  Diana."  That  is 
all.   I  will  not  compel  you  to  sacrifice. 

CHARITY.  I  will  not  say  it. 

HADRIAN.  Why? 

CHARITY.  Because  I  will  not  tell  a  lie.  My  sisters 
and  I  were  born  of  the  same  parents,  instructed  in  the 
same  mysteries,  and  confirmed  in  the  same  faith.  We  have 
the  same  wish,  the  same  understanding,  the  same  resolu- 
tion. Therefore,  I  am  never  likely  to  differ  from  them  in 
anything. 

ANTIOCHUS.  Oh,  what  an  insult— to  be  defied  by 
a  mere  doll ! 

CHARITY.  Although  I  am  small,  my  reason  is  big 
enough  to  put  you  to  shame. 

HADRIAN.  Take  her  away,  Antiochus,  and  have  her 
stretched  on  the  rack  and  whipped. 

ANTIOCHUS.  I  fear  that  stripes  will  be  of  no  use. 

HADRIAN.  Then  order  a  furnace  to  be  heated  for 
three  days  and  three  nights,  and  let  her  be  cast  into  the 
flames. 


SAPIENTIA  153 

CHARITY.  A  mighty  man  !  He  cannot  conquer  a 
child  of  eight  without  calling  in  fire  to  help  him  ! 

HADRIAN.  Go,  Antiochus,  and  see  that  my  orders 
are  carried  out. 

CHARITY.  He  may  pretend  to  obey  to  satisfy  your 
cruelty,  but  he  will  not  be  able  to  hurt  me.  Stripes  will 
not  wound  my  body,  and  the  flames  will  not  singe  my 
hair  or  my  garments. 

HADRIAN.  We  shall  see. 

CHARITY.  Yes,  we  shall  see. 

SCENE  VI 

HADRIAN.  What  is  wrong,  Antiochus  ?  Why  have 
you  returned,  and  with  such  a  dejected  air  ? 

ANTIOCHUS.  When  you  know  the  reason,  you  will 
be  dejected  too. 

HADRIAN.  Come,  what  is  it  ? 

ANTIOCHUS.  That  little  vixen  whom  you  handed 
over  to  me  to  be  tortured  was  first  scourged  in  my 
presence,  and  I  swear  that  not  so  much  as  the  surface  of 
her  delicate  skin  was  grazed.  Then  I  had  her  cast  into 
the  fiery  furnace  which  glowed  scarlet  with  the 
tremendous  heat. 

HADRIAN.  Enough  !     Come  to  the  point. 

ANTIOCHUS.  The  flames  belched  forth,  and  five 
thousand  men  were  burned  to  death. 

HADRIAN.  And  what  happened  to  her  ? 


154  THE  PLAYS  OF  ROSWITHA 

ANTIOCHUS.  You  mean  to  Charity  ? 

HADRIAN.  Who  else? 

ANTIOCHUS.  She  ran  to  and  fro,  playing  in  the 
fierce  whirlwind  of  smoke  and  flame,  and  sang  praises  to 
her  God.  Those  who  watched  closely  said  that  three 
men  dressed  in  white  walked  by  her  side. 

HADRIAN.  I  blush  to  see  her  again,  as  I  have  not 
been  able  to  harm  her. 

ANTIOCHUS.  She  must  perish  by  the  sword  like 
the  others. 

HADRIAN.  Let  us  use  it  then,  and  without  delay. 

SCENE  VII 

ANTIOCHUS.  Uncover  that  obstinate  little  neck, 
Charity,  and  prepare  for  the  sword  of  the  executioner. 

CHARITY.  This  time  I  do  not  wish  to  resist.  I  am 
glad  to  obey. 

SAPIENTIA.  Now,  little  one,  now  we  must  give 
thanks ;  now  we  must  exult  in  Christ.  Now  I  am  free 
from  anxiety,  for  I  am  certain  of  your  triumph. 

CHARITY.  Kiss  me,  mother,  and  commend  my  soul 
to  Christ. 

SAPIENTIA.  May  He  Who  quickened  you  in  my 
womb  receive  the  spirit  He  breathed  into  you  ! 

CHARITY.  Glory  be  to  Thee,  O  Christ,  Who  hast 
called  me  to  Thyself,  and  honoured  me  with  the  martyr's 
crown ! 

SAPIENTIA.  Farewell,  beloved  child,  farewell ;  and 


SAPIENTIA  155 

when  you  are  united  to  Christ  in  heaven  give  a  thought 
to  the  mother  who  gave  you  life  even  when  the  years 
had  exhausted  her  strength. 


SCENE  VIII 

SAPIENTIA.  Noble  matrons,  gather  round  me,  and 
help  me  bury  the  bodies  of  my  children. 

MATRONS.  We  will  strew  herbs  and  spices  on  their 
litde  bodies,  and  solemnize  their  funeral  rites  with 
ceremony. 

SAPIENTIA.  Great  is  the  generosity  and  wonderful 
the  kindness  you  show  to  me  and  my  dead. 

MATRONS.  We  would  do  anything  to  relieve  your 
pain. 

SAPIENTIA.  I  know  it. 

MATRONS.  What  place  have  you  chosen  for  their 
burial  ? 

SAPIENTIA.  It  is  three  miles  outside  the  city.  I  hope 
that  is  not  too  far  for  you  ? 

MATRONS.  By  no  means.  We  will  follow  their 
bodies  to  the  place  you  have  chosen. 


SCENE  IX 

SAPIENTIA.  This  is  the  place. 
MATRONS.  It  is  well  chosen.     The  very  spot  to 
keep  the  relics  of  these  blessed  martyrs  ! 


156  THE  PLAYS  OF  ROSWITHA 

SAPIENTIA.  O  Earth,  I  commit  my  precious  little 
flowers  to  thy  keeping  !  O  Earth,  cherish  them  in  thy 
spacious  bosom  until  they  spring  forth  again  at  the  resur- 
rection more  glorious  and  fair  !  O  Christ,  fill  their  souls 
with  light,  and  give  rest  and  peace  to  their  bones  ! 

MATRONS.  Amen. 

SAPIENTIA.  I  thank  you  all  from  my  heart  for  the 
comfort  you  have  brought  me  since  my  loss. 

MATRONS.  Would  you  like  us  to  remain  here  with 
you  ? 

SAPIENTIA.  I  thank  you,  no. 

MATRONS.  Why  not  ? 

SAPIENTIA.  Because  your  health  will  suffer  if  you 
fatigue  yourselves  further  on  my  account.  Have  you  not 
done  enough  in  watching  with  me  three  days.  Depart 
in  peace.     Return  home  happy. 

MATRONS.  Will  you  not  come  with  us  ? 

SAPIENTIA.  I  cannot. 

MATRONS.  What,  then,  is  your  plan  ? 

SAPIENTIA.  I  shall  stay  here  in  the  hope  that  my 
petition  will  be  granted,  and  that  what  I  most  desire  will 
come  to  pass. 

MATRONS.  What  is  that  petition  ?  What  do  you 
desire  ? 

SAPIENTIA.  This  only — that  when  my  prayer  is 
ended  I  may  die  in  Christ. 

MATRONS.  Will  you  not  let  us  stay  to  the  end, 
then,  and  give  you  burial  ? 


SAPIENTIA  1 57 

SAPIENTIA.  As  you  please. 

O  Adonai  Emmanuel,  begotten  by  the  Divine  Creator 
of  all  things  before  time  began,  and  born  in  time  of  a 
Virgin  Mother — O  Thou  Who  in  Thy  dual  nature 
remainest  most  wonderfully  one  Christ,  the  unity  of 
person  not  being  divided  by  the  diversity  of  natures,  nor 
yet  the  diversity  of  natures  confounded  in  the  unity  of 
person — to  Thee  let  the  serene  angelic  choir,  singing  in 
sweet  harmony  with  the  spheres,  raise  an  exultant  song  ! 
Let  all  created  things  praise  Thee,  because  Thou  Who 
alone  with  the  Holy  Ghost  art  form  without  matter,  by 
the  will  of  the  Father  and  the  co-operation  of  the  Spirit 
didst  deign  to  become  man,  passible  like  men,  yet  im- 
passible like  God.  O  Thou  Who  didst  not  shrink  from 
tasting  death  and  destroyed  it  by  Thy  Resurrection  that 
none  who  believe  in  Thee  should  perish,  but  know 
eternal  life,  on  Thee  I  call  !  I  do  not  forget  that  Thou, 
perfect  God  yet  true  man,  didst  promise  that  those  who 
for  Thy  sake  renounced  their  earthly  possessions  would 
be  rewarded  a  hundredfold  and  receive  the  gift  of  eternal 
life.  Inspired  by  that  promise,  Thou  seest  that  I  have 
done  what  I  could  ;  of  my  own  free  will,  and  for  Thy 
sake,  I  have  sacrificed  the  children  I  bore.  Oh,  in  Thy 
goodness  do  not  delay  the  fulfilment  of  Thy  promise,  but 
free  me  swiftly  from  the  bonds  of  this  flesh  that  I  may  see 
my  children  and  rejoice  with  them.  Grant  me  the  joy 
of  hearing  them  sing  the  new  song  as  they  follow  Thee, 
O  Lamb  of  the  Virgin  !    Let  me  be  gladdened  by  their 


158  THE  PLAYS  OF  ROSWITHA 

glory,  and  although  I  may  not  like  them  chant  the 
mystical  song  of  virginity,  let  me  praise  Thee,  Who  art 
not  Thyself  the  Father,  yet  art  of  the  same  substance  as 
the  Father,  with  Whom  and  with  the  Holy  Ghost,  one 
Lord  of  the  whole  world,  one  King  of  all  things  upon  the 
earth  and  in  the  heights  above  and  the  deeps  below,  Thou 
dost  reign  and  rule  for  ever  and  ever  ! 

MATRONS.  O  Lord,  receive  her  soul  !    Amen. 


A  NOTE  ON  THE  ACTING 
OF  THE  PLAYS 

The  evidence  that  Roswitha's  plays  were  intended  for 
representation  has  already  been  discussed.  If  they  were 
ever  acted  in  her  own  time  at  Gandersheim  by  members 
of  the  community,  we  need  not  assume  that  the  perform- 
ances were  ludicrously  artless.  We  have  only  to  read 
contemporary  descriptions  of  the  celebrations  of  great 
feasts  in  monasteries  in  the  so-called  "  dark  ages,"  or 
to  observe  how  strong  is  the  element  of  significant  and 
controlled  "  action  "  in  the  ceremonial  of  the  Catholic 
Church  as  it  exists  to-day,  to  imagine  that  people  accus- 
tomed to  take  part  in  these  dramatic  services  would  have 
little  difficulty  in  giving  an  impressive  performance  of  a 
religious  play.  Even  if  we  discard  the  theory  that  such 
performances  took  place,  an  imaginative  conception  of 
what  they  might  have  been  like  will  save  us,  if  we  desire 
to  act  these  plays  now,  from  adopting  an  exaggeratedly 
primitive  method.  It  is  our  duty  to  do  our  best  for  them, 
neglecting  no  means  of  emphasizing  their  dramatic  strength 
and  helping  their  dramatic  weakness.  As  we  have  no 
authority  in  a  known  "  convention  "  to  guide  us,  the  least 
we  can  do  is  to  refrain  from  inventing  a  comically  crude 
one  based  on  an  arrogant  condescension  to  past  ignorance 
of  what  in  any  century  is  dramatically  effective. 

When  Callimachus  was  brought  on  to  the  modern  stage 
a  misleading  impression  of  Roswitha's  ability  as  a  drama- 
tist was  created  by  a  calculated  childishness  in  the  inter- 
pretation. All  the  characters  were  kept  in  view  of  the 
audience  whether  they  were  concerned  in  a  scene  or  not. 
and  the  end  of  each  scene  was  marked,  as  the  end  ot 
over  is  marked  in  cricket,  by  a  general  change  in  position-;. 
Roswitha's  piety  was  held  up  to  ridicule,  and  her  glorifica- 
tion of  chastity  burlesqued  to  the  satisfaction  i  to 
whom  jokes  at  the  expense  of  old-fashioned  virtues  never 
fail  to  appeal.  Drusiana's  prayrr  that  she  might  die  rather 
than  yield  to  Callimachus  was  greeted  with  shouts  of  - 
laughter.     And  it  was  said  that  the  mirth  was  natural  and 


160         THE    PLAYS    OF    ROSWITHA 

inevitable  because  Roswitha's  manner  is  so  naive  !  Yet 
if  she  is  treated  on  her  merits,  not  as  an  archaic  freak, 
she  can  be  impressive  enough  on  the  stage  as  Edith 
Craig's  production  of  Paphnutius  proved.  In  this  pro- 
duction the  abrupt  transition  from  scene  to  scene  was 
.  bridged  by  the  singing  of  plainsong  melodies,  derived 
from  MSS.  of  the  ninth  century.  The  suggestions  for 
action  in  the  lines  were  examined  with  sympathetic  in- 
sight, and  developed  with  imagination.  The  actors  and 
actresses  took  their  task  seriously  and  used  all  their 
skill  in  making  the  characters  live.  The  old  story  of  the 
conversion  of  Thais  became  new,  and  although  many 
found  Roswitha's  treatment  of  it  unpalatable,  none  found 
it  ludicrous.  A  comparison  of  the  divergent  impressions 
made  by  the  Roswitha  of  Callimachus  and  the  Roswitha 
of  Paphnutius  is  a  lesson  in  the  difficulty  of  sifting  what 
the  dramatist  has  done  from  what  the  interpreter  has  done, 
a  difficulty  all  the  greater  when  the  text  of  a  play  is  not 
available.  Now  that  Callimachus  can  be  read  it  will  be 
easier  for  those  who  saw  its  solitary  performance  to 
recognize  that  it  was  travestied  on  the  stage. 

Imagination,  sympathy  with  Roswitha's  uncom- 
promising religious  faith,  a  few  sets  of  curtains,  or  an 
interchangeable  scene,  actors  capable  either  by  nature 
or  training  of  extracting  a  pound  of  effect  out  of  an  ounce 
of  dialogue,  are  the  foundations  on  which  performances 
of  these  plays  can  be  built.  Paphnutius,  Abraham,  and 
Callimachus  are  obviously  more  actable  than  the  others, 
but  I  feel  that  a  great  deal  might  be  done  with  Sapientia. 
Perhaps  one  day  it  will  be  possible  to  arrange  a  Roswitha 
"  cycle  "  for  the  edification  of  a  few  enthusiasts.  Mean- 
while those  who  share  my  belief  that  plays  are  not  plays 
until  they  are  acted,  can  amuse  themselves  by  thinking 
over  different  methods  of  representation. 


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