If I deny, I am condemned already, In courts where ghosts appear as witnesses, And swear men's lives away.If I confess, Then I confess a lie, to buy a life Which is not life, but only death in life.
I will not bear false witness against any, Not even against myself, whom I count least.
GARDNER (aside).
Ah, what a noble character is this!
COREY.
I pray you, do not urge me to do that You would not do yourself.I have already The bitter taste of death upon my lips;I feel the pressure of the heavy weight That will crush out my life within this hour;But if a word could save me, and that word Were not the Truth; nay, if it did but swerve A hair's-breadth from the Truth, I would not say it!
GARDNER (aside).
How mean I seem beside a man like this!
COREY.
As for my wife, my Martha and my Martyr,--Whose virtues, like the stars, unseen by day, Though numberless, do but await the dark To manifest themselves unto all eyes,--She who first won me from my evil ways, And taught me how to live by her example, By her example teaches me to die, And leads me onward to the better life!
SHERIFF (without).
Giles Corey! Come! The hour has struck!
COREY.
I come!
Here is my body; ye may torture it, But the immortal soul ye cannot crush!
[Exeunt.
SCENE III-- A street in the Village.Enter GLOYD and others.
GLOYD.
Quick, or we shall be late!
A MAN.
That's not the way.
Come here; come up this lane.
GLOYD.
I wonder now If the old man will die, and will not speak?
He's obstinate enough and tough enough For anything on earth.
A bell tolls.
Hark! What is that?
A MAN.
The passing bell.He's dead!
GLOYD.
We are too late.
[Exeunt in haste.
SCENE IV.-- A field near the graveyard, GILES COREY lying dead, with a great stone on his breast.The Sheriff at his head, RICHARD GARDNER at his feet.A crowd behind.The bell tolling.
Enter HATHORNE and MATHER.
HATHORNE.
This is the Potter's Field.Behold the fate Of those who deal in Witchcrafts, and, when questioned, Refuse to plead their guilt or innocence, And stubbornly drag death upon themselves.
MATHER.
O sight most horrible! In a land like this, Spangled with Churches Evangelical, Inwrapped in our salvations, must we seek In mouldering statute-books of English Courts Some old forgotten Law, to do such deeds?
Those who lie buried in the Potter's Field Will rise again, as surely as ourselves That sleep in honored graves with epitaphs;And this poor man, whom we have made a victim, Hereafter will be counted as a martyr!
FINALE
SAINT JOHN
SAINT JOHN wandering over the face of the Earth.
SAINT JOHN.
The Ages come and go, The Centuries pass as Years;My hair is white as the snow, My feet are weary and slow, The earth is wet with my tears The kingdoms crumble, and fall Apart, like a ruined wall, Or a bank that is undermined By a river's ceaseless flow, And leave no trace behind!
The world itself is old;
The portals of Time unfold On hinges of iron, that grate And groan with the rust and the weight, Like the hinges of a gate That hath fallen to decay;But the evil doth not cease;
There is war instead of peace, Instead of Love there is hate;And still I must wander and wait, Still I must watch and pray, Not forgetting in whose sight, A thousand years in their flight Are as a single day.
The life of man is a gleam Of light, that comes and goes Like the course of the Holy Stream.
The cityless river, that flows From fountains no one knows, Through the Lake of Galilee, Through forests and level lands, Over rocks, and shallows, and sands Of a wilderness wild and vast, Till it findeth its rest at last In the desolate Dead Sea!
But alas! alas for me Not yet this rest shall be!
What, then! doth Charity fail?
Is Faith of no avail?
Is Hope blown out like a light By a gust of wind in the night?
The clashing of creeds, and the strife Of the many beliefs, that in vain Perplex man's heart and brain, Are naught but the rustle of leaves, When the breath of God upheaves The boughs of the Tree of Life, And they subside again!
And I remember still The words, and from whom they came, Not he that repeateth the name, But he that doeth the will!
And Him evermore I behold Walking in Galilee, Through the cornfield's waving gold, In hamlet, in wood, and in wold, By the shores of the Beautiful Sea.
He toucheth the sightless eyes;
Before Him the demons flee;
To the dead He sayeth: Arise!
To the living: Follow me!
And that voice still soundeth on From the centuries that are gone, To the centuries that shall be!
From all vain pomps and shows, From the pride that overflows, And the false conceits of men;From all the narrow rules And subtleties of Schools, And the craft of tongue and pen;Bewildered in its search, Bewildered with the cry, Lo, here! lo, there, the Church!
Poor, sad Humanity Through all the dust and heat Turns back with bleeding feet, By the weary road it came, Unto the simple thought By the great Master taught, And that remaineth still:
Not he that repeateth the name, But he that doeth the will!
********
JUDAS MACCABAEUS.
ACT I.
The Citadel of Antiochus at Jerusalem.
SCENE I.-- ANTIOCHUS; JASON.
ANTIOCHUS.
O Antioch, my Antioch, my city!
Queen of the East! my solace, my delight!
The dowry of my sister Cleopatra When she was wed to Ptolemy, and now Won back and made more wonderful by me!
I love thee, and I long to be once more Among the players and the dancing women Within thy gates, and bathe in the Orontes, Thy river and mine.O Jason, my High-Priest, For I have made thee so, and thou art mine, Hast thou seen Antioch the Beautiful?
Jason.
Never, my Lord.
ANTIOCHUS.
Then hast thou never seen The wonder of the world.This city of David Compared with Antioch is but a village, And its inhabitants compared with Greeks Are mannerless boors.
JASON.
They are barbarians, And mannerless.
ANTIOCHUS.
They must be civilized.
They must be made to have more gods than one;And goddesses besides.
JASON.
They shall have more.
ANTIOCHUS.
They must have hippodromes, and games, and baths, Stage-plays and festivals, and most of all The Dionysia.
JASON.
They shall have them all.
ANTIOCHUS.
