0,99 €
Mehr erfahren.
- Herausgeber: Reading Essentials
- Kategorie: Poesie und Drama
- Sprache: Englisch
- Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2019
For the first time in one volume: The Devil to Pay was also written for the Canterbury Festival and was based on the Faust legend. The Just Vengeance was written for the Lichfield Cathedral Festival in 1946. The plot involves around an Airman who has been shot down. His spirit returns to his home in Lichfield where he is shown the meaning of Atonement, his conversion takes place and he then enters Heaven. He That Should Come is a one-act nativity play originally written for radio. Sayers' main concern was to portray the birth of Christ in a realistic social and historical background. The Zeal of Thy House was commissioned for a Canterbury Festival, the plot hinges on William of Sens, the architect chosen to rebuild Canterbury Cathedral's choir in 1174, and his crippling fall during construction.
Das E-Book können Sie in Legimi-Apps oder einer beliebigen App lesen, die das folgende Format unterstützen:
Ähnliche
Four Sacred Plays
by Dorothy L. Sayers
First published in 1948
This edition published by Reading Essentials
Victoria, BC Canada with branch offices in the Czech Republic and Germany
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage or retrieval system, except in the case of excerpts by a reviewer, who may quote brief passages in a review.
This is an “omnibus” of Dorothy L. Sayers’ four sacred plays, all of them famous: namely, The Devil to Pay, The Just Vengeance, He That Should Come, The Zeal of thy House.
FOUR SACRED PLAYS
by
The Zeal of Thy House
PREFACE
A schoolboy, asked to state what he knew of Mary Tudor, replied: “She was known as Bloody Mary but she was not half as bloody as you’d think.”
We might reasonably expect Miss Sayers, since the previous plays written or performed at the invitation of the Friends of Canterbury Cathedral have concerned prelates and kings who have come to violent and untimely ends, to write with relish of archbishops and assassination, for she has already proved herself to be thoroughly at home with peers and homicide. But, like Mary Tudor, she has not fulfilled our sanguine expectations. Many will be relieved to find that her hero is an architect, that such violence as there may be is accidental, and that, though a rope is the instrument of his downfall, it is accessory to a windlass and not to a gallows.
At a time when all works of fiction are prefaced by a passionate declaration that the author’s characters are entirely imaginary, it is a pleasant change to have to vouch for the authenticity of the main protagonists in this play. It is true that, while most people are familiar with the names of those who damaged or were murdered in Canterbury Cathedral, William of Sens, who designed and built the greater part of it, is not as well known as he ought to be. When the choir was burnt down in 1174, he was chosen by a nervous Chapter to undertake the work of reconstruction. Then as now, that a foreigner in competition with native contractors should be selected for such a task must have caused furious comment. Nevertheless, in the face of official timidity and practical obstacles, he succeeded in raising from the ashes of Lanfranc’s work the leaping choir which we cherish to-day. This creation, magnificent as it is, might hardly seem to be suitable material for a dramatic work. But Miss Sayers chooses William of Sens to be the vehicle for her theme of the artist who in the supreme moment of mastery over his craft may be thrown down and destroyed by a consuming and wasting infirmity, the germ of which is in us all and which too often, fostered by our unawareness, destroys virtue and vitality with its insidious infection. Though few may have fallen physically as far and as hard as William, many have fallen away artistically and have perished without the revelation which was granted to him.
The only scenes which may be suspect historically are those between William and the Lady Ursula. It might be considered a little unfair to credit William with an imaginary intrigue; but, in fact, Miss Sayers has ingenious and moderately sound reasons for doing so.
Our authority for these events is the contemporary chronicle of Gervase the Monk. After recording with horror and enthusiasm the fire and the rebuilding, he refers to William’s accident in a strange and pregnant sentence; he attributes the calamity to “either the Vengeance of God or the Envy of the Devil.” Can we not detect in this the verdict of one who, while full of admiration for the Master’s work, has watched with disapproval, and not a little envy, the pride and licence which the artist has been at little pains to conceal, and now records a well-merited if lamented punishment with righteous satisfaction? Herein may be the clue to some such fall from grace as that which Miss Sayers suggests in the scenes between the architect and his admirer.
For the rest the play deals with well-established facts. Avoiding sham archaism and the fusty language which is too often expected and provided in plays of period, it presents the Middle Ages as being very little removed in essentials from our own. Petrol and patent medicines have taken the place of the windlass and the faith-healing of the pilgrims, but human fallibility and the inspiration of the artist remain constant. The Archangels who from time to time descend into the arena and direct the destinies of the groundlings need not bewilder the reader or the spectator. They represent the Will of God, Fate, Providence, Accident or what you will and, in the final scenes, that bright flash of intuition which occasionally illuminates even the most clouded conscience.
Laurence Irving.
*
The Zeal of Thy House was written for presentation by the Friends of Canterbury Cathedral, and was first acted in the Chapter House at the Canterbury Festival, 12th-18th June, 1937, with Mr. Harcourt Williams as William of Sens and a mixed cast of professional and amateur performers.
It was first presented in London by Mr. Anmer Hall at the Westminster Theatre, on 29th March, 1938, with Mr. Harcourt Williams, Mr. Frank Napier and Mr. Michael Gough in their original parts, and with the original music and costumes.
Mr. Williams and Mr. Napier were the producers on both occasions. The special music was composed by Mr. Gerald H. Knight, the Cathedral Organist at Canterbury.
The present text is that of the play as first written. At Canterbury, it was presented without interval, and in a slightly shortened form. In London, an interval was found necessary between Parts II and III, and the following chorus was accordingly inserted at the beginning of Part III:
The Lord God of Heaven hath given me all the kingdoms of the earth; and He hath charged me to build Him an house at Jerusalem.
That every man should eat and drink and enjoy the good of all his labour, it is the gift of God.
Not unto us, O Lord, not unto us, but unto Thy name give the praise;
For we look for a city which hath foundations, whose builder and maker is God.
The only other modification of any importance was in St. Michael’s final speech, the last sentences of which were altered as follows:
Behold, then, and honour, all beautiful work of the craftsman, imagined by men’s minds, built by the labour of men’s hands, working with power upon the souls of men, image of the everlasting Trinity, God’s witness in world and time.
And whatsoever ye do, do all to the Glory of God.
DRAMATIS PERSONÆ
Angelic Persons
:
Michael
Raphael
}
Archangels
Gabriel
Cassiel
, the Recording Angel
A Young Cherub
, Thurifer to Raphael
Religious
:
The Prior of Christchurch
Stephen
, the Treasurer
Theodatus
, the Sacristan
Choir
Martin
, the Guest-Brother and Infirmarian
Brothers
Ambrose
, the Choirmaster
and
Wulfram
, the Director of the Farm
}
members
Ernulphus
, the Director of the Kitchen and Distillery
of the
Paul
, the Gardener
Cathedral
Hilary
, the Almoner
Chapter
Silvester
, the Painter
Gervase
, the Historian and Clerk
Hubert
, an Oblate, Superintendent of the Rough Masons
Laymen
:
William of Sens
, Architect to the Cathedral
John of Kent
}
Rival
Henry of York
Architects
Simon
Walter
}
Workmen
Hugh
Geoffrey
A Young Boy
The Lady Ursula De Warbois
Monks; Lay-Brothers; Workmen; Pilgrims of both sexes
Two Cantors and a Choir of Mixed Voices
The action takes place during the years 1175—1179.
Note.—The names Michaël, Raphaël, are to be pronounced
as trisyllables throughout.
I
At the opening of the play, the scene is set as for a meeting of the Chapter, with seats about a long table. TheChoirhaving entered and taken their places, they sing the hymn following:
Disposer supreme, and judge of the earth,
Thou choosest for Thine the weak and the poor;
To frail earthen vessels and things of no worth
Entrusting Thy riches which aye shall endure.
Those vessels soon fail, though full of Thy light,
And at Thy decree are broken and gone;
Then brightly appeareth the arm of Thy might,
As through the clouds breaking the lightnings have shone.
[During the singing of the second half of this verse, there enterMichael, Raphaelwith hisThurifer, GabrielandCassielthe Recorder. They pass slowly to the steps while the next verse is sung.
Like clouds are they borne to do Thy great will,
And swift as the wind about the world go;
All full of Thy Godhead while earth lieth still,
They thunder, they lighten, the waters o’erflow.
℣. He maketh His angels spirits.
℟. And His ministers a flaming fire.
I am God’s servant Michael the Archangel;
I walk in the world of men invisible,
Bearing the sword that Christ bequeathed His Church
To sunder and to save.
To sunder and to save.I am God’s servant
Raphael the Archangel; and I walk
In the world of men invisible; I receive
Prayer spoken or unspoken, word or deed
Or thought or whatsoever moves the heart,
Offering it up before the Throne.
Offering it up before the Throne.I am
God’s servant the Archangel Gabriel,
The heavenly runner between God and man,
Moving invisible.
Moving invisible.God’s Recorder, I,
That keep the Book and cast up all accounts,
Cassiel, chief scrivener to the Courts of Heaven.
℣. Their sound is gone out into all lands.
℟. And their words into the ends of the world.
[During the singing of the following verse, theAngelic Personsdepart severally,Michaelstanding aboveRaphaelon the right side of the steps, and theThuriferkneeling below them;Cassielwith his book on the left side of the steps withGabrielabove.
Oh, loud be Thy trump and stirring the sound,
To rouse us, O Lord, from sin’s deadly sleep;
May lights which Thou kindlest in darkness around
The dull soul awaken her vigils to keep.
[The Recorder,Cassiel, sits at his desk;
Raphaelhands his censer to theThurifer, and sits.
What is our business here to-day in Canterbury?
A meeting of the Cathedral Chapter to choose an architect for the rebuilding of the Choir after the great fire of 1174.
Ah, yes—the choir. I was sorry to see the old one go. It was very beautiful, and a favourite haunt of mine. Prayer had soaked into the stones and sanctified them.
Mankind are exceedingly careless of their possessions. I have an entry against one Tom Hogg, neatherd, who neglected to clean his chimney and so had his thatch set on fire. The sparks were blown across the road and lodged under the lead roof of the church. In a short time all was ablaze.
A heavy consequence for a light offence. Was that your doing, Michael?
It was. I bore the flame betwixt my hands and set it among the rafters. We fanned it with our wings, my angels and I, riding upon the wind from the south.
. . . and seven, twenty-six . . . and three, twenty-nine . . . and nine, thirty-eight. . . .
Was it done to avenge the murder of the Archbishop?
. . . and six. Put down four and carry eight.
I do not know. I am a soldier. I take my orders.
We all do that, Michael. Your interference in the matter does not affect the debit against Tom Hogg. He stands charged with Sloth to a considerable amount. What use was made of his sin is neither here nor there. It is a question of economics.
Quite so. I could have done the work perfectly well myself, with a thunderbolt. Hogg’s sin was not in the least necessary.
Nothing that men do is ever necessary. At least, that is my experience. I find them very amusing.
[The sound of the “Veni Creator” is heard from the lower end of the Chapter-House as theChoir-Monksenter in procession.
I find them very pathetic.
You see them at their best, Raphael; as Michael sees them at their worst.
I find them very perverse. If God were not infinite, they would surely exhaust His patience.
They make a great deal of work in the counting house. Happily, being an angel, and not a man, I like work. The hatred of work must be one of the most depressing consequences of the Fall.
Some men work like angels—and whistle over their work. They are much the most cheerful kind.
[In the meantime,Raphaelhas met the Monks at the foot of the steps and now precedes them to the Chapter, swinging his censer before them. The last verse of the hymn is sung by theMonksstanding about the table. Then all sit.Raphaelcomes down to sit besideMichael. Cassielopens the Book at a fresh page and prepares to take minutes of the meeting.
Brethren, the business before us is, as you know, the appointment of an architect for the new choir. Our earlier discussions have brought the number of suitable candidates down to three. To-day we have to make our final choice.
Under God’s guidance.
Under God’s guidance, of course, Father Theodatus. The three men in question are John of Kent, William of Sens, and Henry of York.
Have we got the estimates, Father Prior?
I have two of them here. Henry of York’s is lower than John of Kent’s. He thinks he can restore the existing fabric without pulling it all down and rebuilding.
Will that be safe? Some of the masonry looks to me very insecure. John of Kent is a local man—he has had more opportunity to judge. Besides, it would look well to give the work to a local man.
John is very young—young men are always full of extravagant ideas. No experience.
One must encourage young men. The future is with the young.
John’s estimate is certainly rather high. I don’t think we can countenance extravagance.
We must consider expense, of course, Father Treasurer. Perhaps we had better have the architects in and hear what they have to say. Father Gervase—if you will be so good——
[Gervasegoes out by door, right.
Speaking as Choirmaster, may I urge here and now that we should get a man who understands something about acoustics. The old choir——
What we want is the old choir restored to what it was before. I dislike this trivial modern stuff they are putting up all over the place, with its pointed arcading and flourishy capitals. Give me something solid, like Ely.
One must move with the times, Father Paul. Now William of Sens is a progressive man.
He is a foreigner. Why should we have a foreigner? Isn’t an Englishman good enough? Money should be kept in the country.
We do not seem to have had an estimate from William of Sens.
[Re-enterGervaseright withJohn of Kent, William of Sens, andHenry of York.
Not yet. He writes to me here—— Ah, good morning, sirs. Pray come to the table. We have received your letters and considered your qualifications. We are now minded to hear your further opinions, after inspection of the site. You, Master Henry, have submitted a very conservative estimate of the cost of reconstruction.
My Lord Prior, I have kept the expense down to the lowest possible figure; and after examination of the standing masonry I have prepared a plan and elevation.
[Producing it.
Let us have that.
[Henryputs the plan before thePriorand moves across to left of table.
You will see that I have allowed for keeping the greater part of the standing fabric. (TheodatusandErnulphusonPrior’sleft examine the plan.) With the exception of the more grievously damaged portions which I have marked, I see no reason why the present structure may not be restored——
[He passes plan down to theMonks, on left.
My Lord Prior——
—and put into good order along the original lines. The existing outer walls may be retained——
You think they are not too much weakened by the action of the fire?
Weakened? They are calcined in places almost to powder.
They can be patched and grouted, Master John; and by the addition of supporting buttresses and by altering the pitch of the roof so as to lessen the thrust——
Will not the effect of the buttresses be somewhat clumsy?
There is something a little mean in the proportions of this roof.
I should think it would be bad for sound. After all, the chief use of a choir is to hold services in.
The sooner we get a choir the better. The singing has been very bad lately. I am ashamed to hear sacred words so howled.
[Hands back plan toHenry, who takes it across, right, toWulfram.
The nave is very awkward to sing in. What with the west end boarded up——
Well, we can’t be expected to hold our services in full view, not to say smell, of the common people.
And the east end boarded up——
[Ernulphusquietly falls asleep.
The draughts are appalling. I caught a shocking cold last Tuesday.
We are singing in a wooden box. You can’t sing properly in a box.
Time is certainly of some importance.
The cost is still more important.
To repair, according to my plan, will be very much cheaper and quicker than to pull down and rebuild. I could engage to be ready within two years——
And in two years more you will have to rebuild again. My Lord Prior——
You, Master John, recommend a complete reconstruction?
Recommend? It must be done. Do not be deceived. This botching is useless and dangerous. It is unworthy——
Master John, I am older than you and more experienced——
You never in your life built anything bigger than a parish church.
Master John, Master John!
This is the Cathedral Church of Christ at Canterbury. It must be the wonder of the realm—nay, of the world! Will you insult God with patchwork? Give me the commission, Lord Prior, and I will build you a church worth looking at!
[Producing plan and elevation, which he passes toStephen.
To the greater glory of Master John of Kent!
To the glory of God and of the blessed Saints Dunstan and Elphege.
And the entire depletion of the Treasury. Will somebody please tell me where the money is to come from?
The devotion of the common people is most touching. A poor widow yesterday brought us five farthings, all her little savings.
Our Lord will reward her. But that will not go very far.
I think we ought to take the long view. Canterbury is the most important church in the Kingdom, and attracts a great many people to the town. What with the visitors and the great increase in the number of pilgrims since the lamented death of the late Archbishop——
Blessed St. Thomas, pray for us.
[They cross themselves.
A little money spent now on building will repay itself handsomely in donations and bequests.
[Stephenpasses the plan toHilary.
If the fire was a Divine judgment for the Archbishop’s murder——
Eh? the Archbishop? Blessed St. Thomas, pray for us.
[He crosses himself and falls asleep instantly.
I say, if the fire was a judgment, then the new building is a reparation to God, and should be an offering worthy of its high destination and a sufficient sacrifice for the sins of this country.
No artist can do his best work when he has to consider every halfpenny. Thou shalt not muzzle the ox——
All this talk about money is sheer lack of faith. God will provide.
No doubt. But, humanly speaking, the accounts will have to go through the Treasury, and I feel responsible.
There is a good deal of elaborate and expensive ornament here, Master John.
Modern nonsense, modern nonsense. Let us have the old choir back. Here is a groined roof and a clerestory and a lot of fiddle-faddle. How long is all this going to take?
Seven years—perhaps more.
Seven years! Have we to put up with half a cathedral for seven years? Why, God made the world in six days!
God, Father Martin, was not subject to limitations of funds or material.
Nor to the cheese-paring parsimony of a monastic chapter.
Possibly God is an abler architect than any of us.
We have not yet heard your opinion, Master William. Do you think it possible to restore the remaining fabric?
Oh, I should think very likely. I should certainly hope to save some of it.
That is not what you said to us outside.
But I really cannot say—I do not see how anybody can say—without prolonged and careful examination.
That’s very true. Very reasonable.
That is why I have as yet prepared no estimate or plan. But I have brought some drawings of the work entrusted to me at Sens and elsewhere which will give you some idea of the kind of thing I should like to do here.
[Hands papers toPrior.
Now, I like that. Extremely fine and dignified. And very modern in feeling.
And not too ornate.
[Williamhands them on down right.
It is wonderful. It is like a poem in stone. I should dearly love to see it. How light—and yet how majestic!
[He looks admiringly atWilliam.
Time and cost would depend on the extent of the work. I suggest making a thorough survey before getting out a preliminary plan and estimate. Naturally, I should commit you to nothing without the advice and approval of yourself, Lord Prior and the Father Treasurer.
Just so. We should object to nothing in reason.
I should be obliged (firmly) to stipulate for the best materials.
God’s service demands the best materials.
But we can effect an economy by making good use of local talent, of which I am sure we must possess a great deal——
I am all in favour of local talent.
And we may reduce the cost of shipping and carriage by the use of certain mechanical devices of my own invention, which I need not say I shall be happy to place at the disposal of the authorities without extra fee.
Thank you—that is very proper, very generous. . . . H’m. Well, Brethren, I think we have now the facts before us. If these gentlemen would kindly retire for a few moments. . . .
[General movement;Gervasegoes up, right, to door.
Eh, what? what? Have we finished?
No, Father Ernulphus. The architects are retiring while we deliberate.
Oh, I see. Very good.
[He falls asleep again.
Two or three years only, Lord Prior—say four at most—and a strict regard for economy.
[ExitHenry.
Consider, Lord Prior—a structure worthy of its dedication—and safety to life and limb, if you think that matters.
[ExitJohn.
Sir, if I am chosen, I will do my best.
[ExitWilliam. Gervasefollows them off. The rest examine the plans and documents.
The motives of mankind are lamentably mixed.
They mean well, I assure you.
Then it is a pity they do not say what they mean.
It is most confusing. I have worn out my pen trying to keep up with them.
That is easily remedied. Allow me.
[He plucks a feather from his own wing and hands it toCassielasGervasere-enters and shuts the door.
Thank you.
Well, Brethren?
I must say, Master Henry’s plan seems rather makeshift.
He is a Yorkshire man. I would as soon have a foreigner as a Yorkshire man.
He is too anxious to please. First he says two years—then three or four. I should not rely on his estimate.
Are we agreed, then, not to appoint Henry of York? (TheMonkssignify agreement.) Then that leaves us the choice between John of Kent and William of Sens.
What will they make of that?
They will choose the man whom God has appointed.
I shall see to it that they do.
Let us have John. He is a local man.
[As theMonksgive their votes,Gervasenotes them down.
Yes; his church will attract attention and bring people into the town.
Too new-fangled and showy. I am for William. I distrust these go-ahead young men.
I have said William all along.
Clearly William is a great craftsman—let us choose him.
We know nothing about him personally. John is a young man of devout life.
What has that to do with it? Besides, his manners are abominable. I give my voice for William.
I like John’s plan—we haven’t seen William’s.
John’s plan looks good from the musician’s point of view.
I must not influence you—but I admit I am greatly impressed by William of Sens. . . . Father Gervase, how does the voting stand?
Five have spoken for John and five for William.
This is where I interfere.
[He goes up into the Chapter-House.
Somebody has not voted. Who is it?
[Everybody stares round atErnulphus.
It is Father Ernulphus.
He has been asleep all the time.
[Gabrielstands behindErnulphus.
He is getting very shaky, poor old soul.
Father Ernulphus!
Eh? eh? what?
Do you vote for John of Kent or William of Sens?
William of Sens.
Eh? Yes, of course. William of Sens. Certainly.
[He closes his eyes again.
He hasn’t heard a word. (Loudly) Father Ernulphus!
You needn’t shout. I’m not deaf. I have followed everything very carefully. I said William of Sens and I mean William of Sens.
[He shuts his eyes tight with an air of finality.
Really, Father Prior!
You will never move him now.
[A pause.
The vote of the Chapter, then, is for William of Sens. If there is no further business, the Chapter is dissolved.
Glory be to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Ghost. As it was in the beginning, is now and ever shall be, world without end. Amen.
[Gabrielgoes up and stands above.
Father Gervase, pray inform the architects of this decision. Thank those that are not chosen for their pains; they shall receive their journey-money from the Father Treasurer. Ask Master William to come and see me. No time must be lost in putting the work in hand, for the night cometh wherein no man can work.
[ExitGervase, right, as thePriorfollows theMonksout.
℣. Be strong, all ye people of the land, saith the Lord, and
work; for I am with you, saith the Lord God of Hosts.
℟. No man, having put his hand to the plough, and looking
back, is fit for the Kingdom of God.
℣. There is nothing better than that a man should rejoice
in his own works, for that is his portion.
℟. Ascribe ye greatness unto our God; He is the Rock,
His work is perfect.
[Re-enterGervase, right, withJohn, HenryandWilliam.
Trickery, Master William, sheer trickery and cheating. You know well enough that you cannot restore a single stone of it.
You will tell any lie in order to get the job. You promise economy, and you will spend their money like water. It is treacherous—it is dishonest——
You would not only promise, you would do them a dishonest piece of work. That is treachery, if you like, Master Henry.
[Henrybounces down the steps with an angry exclamation.
But why must you flatter and fawn on them? Why pander to all their ridiculous foibles? Cannot you tell them the truth as I do and let the best man win?
The trouble with you, my lad, is want of tact. You can handle stone, but you can’t handle men. You must learn to humour fools if you want to get anything done.
You stinking fox!
[JohnjoinsHenry, and they go off muttering together, sinking their differences in their common grievance.
Master William, is it true, what they say?
Listen to me, young man. At my age one learns that sometimes one has to damn one’s soul for the sake of the work. Trust me, God shall have a choir fit for His service. Does anything else really matter?
[He andGervasefollow the others out.
During the singing of the following Interlude, the scene-shifters set the stage to represent the site of the choir. The other threeAngelsgo up and stand above withGabriel.
Every carpenter and workmaster that laboureth night and day, and they that give themselves to counterfeit imagery, and watch to finish a work;
The smith also sitting by the anvil, and considering the iron work, he setteth his mind to finish his work, and watcheth to polish it perfectly.
So doth the potter sitting at his work, and turning the wheel about with his feet, who is always carefully set at his work, and maketh all his work by number.
All these trust to their hands, and every one is wise in his work.
Without these cannot a city be inhabited, and they shall not dwell where they will nor go up and down;
They shall not be sought for in public council, nor sit high in the congregation;
But they will maintain the state of the world, and all their desire is in the work of their craft.
II
About two years have passed since the previous scene. Workmen go in and out, fetching tools and barrows from door, left, which appears to lead to some kind of office or store-room, and carrying out, right, blocks of dressed stone on hand-barrows, etc. About half a dozenLay BrothersandWorkmenremain to work on the stage. A general impression of bustle and movement is accentuated by the entrance of a number of respectably dressedPilgrims, chattering like jackdaws,—right.
Beautiful, beautiful; and everything in such good taste. . . . I wonder what it costs to keep the shrine going in candles. . . . Two years they’ve been building now—goodness knows how long it’s going to take. . . . Dickon, you bad boy, leave that saw alone. . . . Who did you say the architect was? Wilfrid somebody? . . . My poor, dear husband—such a sad sufferer—I was determined to make the pilgrimage. . . . No doubt, it will be all very fine when it’s finished, but I don’t think it’s a patch on Lincoln. . . . Shocking bad dinners they give you at the “Lamb”—you’d better come and have a bite with us. . . . I beg your pardon, madame, was that your foot? Ah, the poor, dear, martyred Archbishop! Such a charming man. I saw him when he came back from France—yes, really, he was as close to me as I am to you. . . . Have you heard the one about the three fat friars and the tinker’s widow? Well, there were three begging friars. . . . So I said to her, “Very well, you may take your wages and go.” . . . It came to me as I was kneeling there that God would most surely have pity upon my sister. . . . I must say it comes out more expensive than I’d reckoned for. And I was abominably cheated that night we lay at Rochester. . . . The King must be a very naughty man to have killed the poor Archbishop. . . . There! I told you it was only putting ideas into the child’s head. . . . Bad business, that fire, and if you ask me, I don’t believe the true story ever came out. . . . Yes, darling, ever so sorry—barefoot in a white sheet. . . . Indeed, I have a very great devotion to St. Thomas. . . . This Purbeck marble’s all the rage, but I don’t care about it myself . . . etc., etc.
[They trail away, still chattering. During the confusion,GervaseandWilliamhave made their entrances, right,Gervasecrossing the stage and vanishing into doorway, left, whileWilliamsits at a trestle-table, centre, and waits resignedly for his workshop to get clear. As the stage empties, theAngelscome down again and take up their former positions.
Two years of toil are passed; what shall I write About this architect?
But they will maintain the state of the world, and all their desire is in the work of their craft.A schedule here,
Long as my sword, crammed full of deadly sins;
Jugglings with truth, and gross lusts of the body,
Drink, drabbing, swearing; slothfulness in prayer;
With a devouring, insolent ambition
That challenges disaster.
That challenges disaster.These are debts;
What shall I set upon the credit side?
Six columns, and their aisles, with covering vaults
From wall to arcading, and from thence again
To the centre, with the keystones locking them,
All well and truly laid without a fault.
No sum of prayer to balance the account?
Ask Raphael, for prayers are in his charge.
Come, Raphael, speak; or is thy censer cold?
Canst thou indeed find any grace in William
The builder-up of Canterbury?
The builder-up of Canterbury?Yes.
[He swings his censer, which gives out a cloud of incense.
Behold, he prayeth; not with the lips alone,
But with the hand and with the cunning brain
Men worship the Eternal Architect.
So, when the mouth is dumb, the work shall speak
And save the workman. True as a mason’s rule
And line can make them, the shafted columns rise
Singing like music; and by day and night
The unsleeping arches with perpetual voice
Proclaim in Heaven, to labour is to pray.
Glory to God, that made the Firmament!
