B00ARI2G5C EBOK (39 page)

At your frontiers shall yet defend your throne and life.

Then let the ancestral halls rejoice, our privilege be,

Amid a throng of guests, to feast your Majesty;

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And borne ahead of you or at your side, my Sword

Shall shine to honour you, great and all-conquering lord!

THE EMPEROR
[
to the second prince]

With charm and courtesy your courage is combined:

Be my High Chamberlain! A hard task, you will find,

To be the ruler of the whole domestic rout;

I am ill served by their perpetual falling out.

To please me and my court they’ve not yet learnt—but now

Let your honourable example teach them how.

THE HIGH CHAMBERLAIN
. Favoured is he who serves your noble policy:

Help to the best, even to the least no injury;

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An undissembling calm, candour without deceit.

If you can read my heart, then my reward’s complete.

I see you, Sire—if my mind’s eye may be so bold—

Entering to that great feast: the golden bowl I hold,

I hold your rings, and you, upon that day of pleasure,

Refresh your hands; your look contents me in like measure.

THE EMPEROR
. Though my new serious mood should banish festive thoughts,

I’ll think them none the less; there’s profit in such sports.

[
To the third prince
.]

You shall now be High Seneschal, to supervise

All our hunting-demesnes, farms, poultry yards; be wise

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And skilful to provide my choice of favourite fare,

In season month by month, furnished and cooked with care.

THE HIGH SENESCHAL
. Now let strict fasting be my duty and my wish,

Till I have served you first, Sire, with some gladdening dish.

The cooks and I shall strive, as we prepare such cheer,

The season to advance, to bring the distant near.

Not to your taste the out-of-time, the exotic show:

You prefer wholesome simple nourishment, I know.

THE EMPEROR
[
to the fourth prince]
.

Since, my young valiant cousin, we are now concerned,

Only with feasting, as it seems: you must be turned

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Into an Imperial Cupbearer. Henceforth provide

Us with good wine now, see our cellars well supplied.

And yet be moderate yourself in celebration;

Resist the enticing opportunity’s temptation!

THE IMPERIAL CUPBEARER
. Sire, if you will but trust it, even youth can grow

Into full manhood, and more quickly than you know.

I too can see myself at that great banquet: there

The imperial buffet I grace with vessels rare

Of gold and silver; yet I choose above the rest,

To offer to your lips, a goblet of the best

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Venetian crystal, in which sweet contentment waits,

For it improves the wine, yet not inebriates.

Some men might trust too far a cup so magical;

Your Majesty’s restraint protects us best of all.

THE EMPEROR
. These honours I bestow on you you each have heard

Now solemnly announced by my imperial word,

Which you may trust, for it is mighty, and assures

All gifts; yet still they need the writing that endures,

Our noble signature. For this formality

The right man in good time approaches, as I see.

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[
The
HIGH CHANCELLOR ARCHBISHOP
enters
.]

THE EMPEROR
. The last stone crowns the arch: a vaulted roof entrusting

Itself to such a key is built for everlasting.

You see four princes here: with them I have discussed

My household firstly, and my court, and how they must

Be governed. But the Empire as a whole, with all

Its weight and strength, now to your fivefold care must fall.

All five, outsplendouring others, shall be rich in lands:

Therefore I give to you the whole inheritance

Forfeit by all supporters of that reprobate;

And thus, my loyal friends, I enlarge now your estate

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With much fine land, which in due course you may augment

By purchase, by exchange, or such entitlement

As may arise. All feudal rights that here accrue

I also grant, without impediment, to you.

Your judgements shall be final, and against your high

Courts, your supreme tribunals, no appeal shall lie.

Rents, tithes and levies, tolls, safe conducts, these I join

To you, all salt and mining rights, the right to coin

Money likewise. For thus my gratitude I prove,

Setting you from my throne at only one remove.

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THE HIGH CHANCELLOR
. I render deepest thanks for all of us; for our

Advancement will increase your Majesty’s own power.

THE EMPEROR
. The five of you shall have a higher privilege still.

While I yet live, I reign, and I live with a will:

But a long chain of forebears draws my thoughtful gaze

From present strivings back to troublous, threatening days.

I must leave you, my friends, later or earlier;

Your duty then’s to elect another emperor.

Crown him, and on the sacred altar raise him high;

Then peace shall reign, and all our storms will have passed by.

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THE HIGH CHANCELLOR
. With our hearts full of pride and humbly bowed we stand,

Princes before your throne, the noblest in the land.

So long as loyal blood stirs in these veins, we still

Are but the body moved entirely by your will.

THE EMPEROR
. Finally, what we here have hitherto enacted,

Let it be for all time in written form contracted.

All these Electoral lands, of course, though to be held

Freehold by you, are indivisibly entailed,

And must, increased or not, pass (so we stipulate)

By primogeniture in undiminished state.

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THE HIGH CHANCELLOR
. This weighty statute shall to parchment be committed

And gladly for your sacred signature submitted;

I’ll charge my office with the engrossment, and the seal

Shall be affixed, for our and the whole Empire’s weal.

THE EMPEROR
. So, my lords, take your leave! that each of you now may

Calmly and at his ease reflect on this great day.

[
The temporal princes withdraw; the spiritual lord, remains, and speaks in solemn tones
.]

THE ARCHBISHOP
. The Chancellor has left, the Bishop lingers here,

Impelled to utter a grave warning in your ear,

Moved by concern for you, by fatherly distress!

THE EMPEROR
. What so concerns you on this day of happiness?

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THE ARCHBISHOP
. I see with bitter sorrow, in this very hour,

Your sacred Majesty enthralled to Satan’s power.

Your throne now seems assured, but by the means you used

The Holy Father’s mocked, God himself is abused.

When the Pope hears of it, a righteous doom will smash

Your sinful Empire by his sacred thunderflash.

He still recalls today how at your coronation

You pardoned, at the point of death, that vile magician.

Your crown’s first ray of grace fell on that cursed head;

How many souls in Christendom that deed misled!

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But strike your breast, and purge your guilty fortune’s blight

By rendering to Holy Church a moderate mite.

Up on that broad hillside, there where you pitched your tent,

Where evil spirits with your cause made covenant,

Where to the Devil you gave ear—there found and make

A holy priory, for your contrition’s sake.

Let it be set on those green slopes, which will provide

Rich pasture; give it woods and mountains far and wide;

Bright lakes well stocked with fish, numberless streams that pour

Down swiftly winding to the valley; furthermore

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The broad valley itself, its meadows, fields and dales.

All this shall be your penance, which for grace avails.

THE EMPEROR
. My grievous fault alarms me, I am much distressed.

Measure the boundary yourself as you think best.

THE ARCHBISHOP
. First: we must cleanse the site from such defilement, by

Rededicating it at once to the Most High.

Soon the great walls rise up before my inner gaze;

The choir, already built, gleams in the morning’s rays;

The growing structure spreads, a cruciform design;

The nave grows wide and high, the faithful hail this sign.

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See with what ardent joy they stream through the great gate,

As over hill and dale the bells’ first notes pulsate,

Pealing from lofty towers that strive into the sky;

Summoned to a new life, the penitents draw nigh!

And on the day—may it be soon!— of consecration,

Your presence, Sire, shall be our triumph’s consummation.

THE EMPEROR
. May this great enterprise, this pious monument,

Glorify God, and purge the sin I now repent.

Enough! My soul’s relieved, my heart begins to lift.

THE ARCHBISHOP
. As Chancellor I now need a formal deed of gift.

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THE EMPEROR
. Draw up a formal paper, then, that will assign it

All to the Church; bring it to me, I’ll gladly sign it.

THE ARCHBISHOP
[
taking his leave, but turning round again at the door]
.

You will also assign the land’s whole revenues

To this development; its rents, tithes, levies, dues,

In perpetuity. Costs of proper maintenance

Are high, and there will be administrative expense.

Some gold, too, from your booty—that will expedite

The building work itself, on such a barren site.

I must mention likewise the transports we shall need

Of timber, lime, and slate and suchlike; those indeed

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Can be brought by the people—we shall preach, of course,

That blest are they who serve the Church with cart and horse.

[
Exit
.]

THE EMPEROR
. This sin is very burdensome; I lent an ear

To those damned magic-men, and now they cost me dear.

THE ARCHBISHOP
[
returning again, with a deep bow]
.

Your pardon, Sire. That infamous man was granted land
*

On the Empire’s coast: but he and it are cursed and banned

Unless you also grant us that land’s revenue,

Its rents, tithes and so forth, as further penance due.

THE EMPEROR
[
irritably]
.

But no such land exists, it’s still under the sea!

THE ARCHBISHOP
. Our right suffices, time provides, we’ll wait and see.

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Meanwhile your word remains your bond, Sire, as we know.

[
Exit
.]

THE EMPEROR
[
alone]
.

Why not just sign away the whole Empire at one go!

A WANDERER
. There they are, so dark and strong,

Those old lindens, as before;

I have wandered for so long,

Now I find them here once more!

And the hut that sheltered me,

Tempest-tossed as I was then,

On the sand-dunes here I see:

This is the same place again!

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And my hosts? That fine old couple

Rescued me with ready will:

They were pious gentle people—

Can I hope to find them still?

They were old at our first meeting.

Shall I knock or call?—My greeting

To you, if the gods still bless

You with your life of kindliness!

BAUCIS
*
(
a very old little woman
).

Stranger dear, speak softly please,

Softly! My old husband, he’s

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Resting still. He needs the length

Of his nights, for short days’ strength.

THE WANDERER
. Dear old woman, is it true,

Can I still be thanking you

For my young life you and he

Long ago saved from the sea?

Baucis! You, who when death coldly

Kissed me, warmed my freezing blood?

[
The husband enters
.]

You, Philemon, who so boldly

Snatched my treasure from the flood?

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Yours the hospitable fire,

Yours the bell with silver tone,

You, my rescuers from dire

Peril, you my help alone!

Now, to ease my heart’s emotion,

I must look upon this shore;

I must kneel and pray once more,

Gazing on the boundless ocean.

[
He steps forward across the sand-dune
.]

PHILEMON
[
to
BAUCIS]
.

Quickly now, let’s lay the table

Here among the flowers and trees.

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Let him go; he’ll stare, unable

To believe the change he sees.

[
Standing
by
THE WANDERER.]

Look! Your enemies of old,

The fierce foaming waves, have been

Turned into a park; behold

Now this paradisal scene!

I was not young enough to lend

My helping hands to this endeavour;

Soon my strength was at an end;

The sea was further off than ever.

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Those wise lords, they sent bold slaves: