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MIDI File [6' 16" 40Kb] |
| SIMON (looking in). Who stands within? | ||
| JOAN. | Hush! 'tis a Holy Friar. | |
JOAN and SIMON enter.
| DEVIL. | Chide not this simple maid; the fault was mine! | |
| JOAN. | No fault, in sooth! | |
| SIMON. | 'Twas not 'gainst such as thee Our door was barred! |
|
| JOAN. | Yet, holy father, say How comes it that the light of Heaven hath crept To our dark home? |
|
| DEVIL. | My children, I have heard Ye stand in little favour in this town; Wherefore I thought to pause upon my way And proffer comfort. Sooth, and as ye came, In pleasant converse with yon crippled child I chanced to shew her this! |
|
He holds up the bag containing the stone, which now glows with supernatural light. SIMON and JOAN shrink back, half in terror.
| SIMON and JOAN. | What is it? Speak! | ||
| DEVIL. | Well may ye ask, for hidden here doth lie A little stone hewn from a sunken rock Whose giant shadow rising from the deep Empurples the blue sea! Yet long ago, In Holier days, it reared its sacred head Moss-mantled o'er the wave; and on its crest Once trod the Virgin's feet. And since that hour This little particle of precious stone — A relic rescued from the wreck of time — Hath so much virtue, that on man or maid, Whoe'er it be who owns it, there doth fall The gift of perfect beauty! |
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| SIMON. | Beauty! | ||
| JOAN. | Beauty! | ||
| LAINE. | Yea, truly 'twas of beauty that he spake E'en as ye came. |
||
| SIMON. | Ah, prithee, tell me then, How falls this miracle! |
||
| JOAN. | Aye, tell us that! | ||
The DEVIL produces the stone, through which is threaded a fine cord.
| DEVIL. | ||
| Draw anear and ye shall hear!
Tremble not, 'tis naught to fear! |
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| On the bare breast of man or maid Naked shall this stone be laid; |
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| Snug and secret must it lie Hidden close from every eye, |
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| For one and only one shall own The mystic virtues of this stone. |
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| SIMON. | |||
| Father, bestow it! Aye, bestow it here! No home in Flanders is so waste and drear, |
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| Lacking a comely presence: we are worn, And bent with years and toiling night and morn! Our child is sickly, hapless was she born! |
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| Bestow it here! | |||
| DEVIL. | |||
| Weaver, thou didst not heed me; I have shewn This wondrous gift is not for all to own, But whoso wears it, he or she alone, |
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| May hope to win | |||
| The beauty that lies hidden deep within | |||
| This glittering stone. | |||
| LAINE. | JOAN & SIMON. | DEVIL. |
|---|---|---|
| Though that should be, | ||
| Ah, Holy Mother, little | yet on our knees we pray, | |
| need had they To crave this lamp | Grant to this darkened home | |
| to light them on their way | the light of day! | Weaver, thou didst |
| Had I been fair! | Oh, hear our prayer! | not heed me didst not heed me; |
| Wherefore I | In pity hear us! O hear us! | |
| too would kneel to thee today; | Let but Heaven's sweet ray | Whoso wears it, |
| O, hear their prayer! | Make one face fair! | he or she alone, |
| O, hear their prayer! | Make one face fair! | May hope to win |
| Wherefore I | The beauty that lies | |
| too would kneel to thee today; | In pity hear us! | hidden deep within |
| would kneel, | Let but Heaven's sweet ray | This glitt'ring stone! |
| O, hear, | O, make one face fair! | Only one, |
| O, hear their prayer! | make one face fair! | only one! |
| DEVIL. | |
| Take it! 'tis thine! My blessing go with it. |
|
| LAINE, JOAN & SIMON. | DEVIL. |
|---|---|
| Father, we thank thee! | |
| day has dawned at last! | My blessing go with it. |
| Gives stone to SIMON. |
Page modified 14 September 2011