The Works of Frederick Schiller Part 395

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MELVIL.

Compose your heart; the fervent, pious wish Is prized in heaven as high as the performance.

The might of tyrants can but bind the hands, The heart's devotion rises free to G.o.d, The word is dead--'tis faith which brings to life.

MARY.

The heart is not sufficient of itself; Our faith must have some earthly pledge to ground Its claim to the high bliss of heaven. For this Our G.o.d became incarnate, and enclosed Mysteriously his unseen heavenly grace Within an outward figure of a body.

The church it is, the holy one, the high one, Which rears for us the ladder up to heaven:-- 'Tis called the Catholic Apostolic church,-- For 'tis but general faith can strengthen faith; Where thousands wors.h.i.+p and adore the heat Breaks out in flame, and, borne on eagle wings, The soul mounts upwards to the heaven of heavens.

Ah! happy they, who for the glad communion Of pious prayer meet in the house of G.o.d!

The altar is adorned, the tapers blaze, The bell invites, the incense soars on high; The bishop stands enrobed, he takes the cup, And blessing it declares the solemn mystery, The transformation of the elements; And the believing people fall delighted To wors.h.i.+p and adore the present G.o.dhead.

Alas! I only am debarred from this; The heavenly benediction pierces not My prison walls: its comfort is denied me.

MELVIL.

Yes! it can pierce them--put thy trust in Him Who is almighty--in the hand of faith, The withered staff can send forth verdant branches And he who from the rock called living water, He can prepare an altar in this prison, Can change---- [Seizing the cup, which stands upon the table.

The earthly contents of this cup Into a substance of celestial grace.

MARY.

Melvil! Oh, yes, I understand you, Melvil!

Here is no priest, no church, no sacrament; But the Redeemer says, "When two or three Are in my name a.s.sembled, I am with them,"

What consecrates the priest? Say, what ordains him To be the Lord's interpreter? a heart Devoid of guile, and a reproachless conduct.

Well, then, though unordained, be you my priest; To you will I confide my last confession, And take my absolution from your lips.

MELVIL.

If then thy heart be with such zeal inflamed, I tell thee that for thine especial comfort, The Lord may work a miracle. Thou say'st Here is no priest, no church, no sacrament-- Thou err'st--here is a priest--here is a G.o.d; A G.o.d descends to thee in real presence.

[At these words he uncovers his head, and shows a host in a golden vessel.

I am a priest--to hear thy last confession, And to announce to thee the peace of G.o.d Upon thy way to death. I have received Upon my head the seven consecrations.

I bring thee, from his Holiness, this host, Which, for thy use, himself has deigned to bless.

MARY.

Is then a heavenly happiness prepared To cheer me on the very verge of death?

As an immortal one on golden clouds Descends, as once the angel from on high, Delivered the apostle from his fetters:-- He scorns all bars, he scorns the soldier's sword, He steps undaunted through the bolted portals, And fills the dungeon with his native glory; Thus here the messenger of heaven appears When every earthly champion had deceived me.

And you, my servant once, are now the servant Of the Most High, and his immortal Word!

As before me your knees were wont to bend, Before you humbled, now I kiss the dust.

[She sinks before him on her knees.

MELVIL (making over her the sign of the cross).

Hear, Mary, Queen of Scotland:--in the name Of G.o.d the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, Hast thou examined carefully thy heart, Swearest thou, art thou prepared in thy confession To speak the truth before the G.o.d of truth?

MARY.

Before my G.o.d and thee, my heart lies open.

MELVIL.

What calls thee to the presence of the Highest?

MARY.

I humbly do acknowledge to have erred Most grievously, I tremble to approach, Sullied with sin, the G.o.d of purity.

MELVIL.

Declare the sin which weighs so heavily Upon thy conscience since thy last confession.

MARY.

My heart was filled with thoughts of envious hate, And vengeance took possession of my bosom.

I hope forgiveness of my sins from G.o.d, Yet could I not forgive my enemy.

MELVIL.

Repentest thou of the sin? Art thou, in sooth, Resolved to leave this world at peace with all?

MARY.

As surely as I wish the joys of heaven.

MELVIL.

What other sin hath armed thy heart against thee?

MARY.

Ah! not alone through hate; through lawless love Have I still more abused the sovereign good.

My heart was vainly turned towards the man Who left me in misfortune, who deceived me.

MELVIL.

Repentest thou of the sin? And hast thou turned Thy heart, from this idolatry, to G.o.d?

MARY.

It was the hardest trial I have pa.s.sed; This last of earthly bonds is torn asunder.

MELVIL.

What other sin disturbs thy guilty conscience?

MARY.

A b.l.o.o.d.y crime, indeed of ancient date, And long ago confessed; yet with new terrors.

It now attacks me, black and grisly steps Across my path, and shuts the gates of heaven: By my connivance fell the king, my husband-- I gave my hand and heart to a seducer-- By rigid penance I have made atonement; Yet in my soul the worm is gnawing still.

MELVIL.

Has then thy heart no other accusation, Which hath not been confessed and washed away?

MARY.

All you have heard with which my heart is charged.

MELVIL.

Think on the presence of Omniscience; Think on the punishments with which the church Threatens imperfect and reserved confessions This is the sin to everlasting death, For this is sinning 'gainst his Holy Spirit.

MARY.

So may eternal grace with victory Crown my last contest, as I wittingly Have nothing hid----

MELVIL.

How? Wilt thou then conceal The crime from G.o.d for which thou art condemned?

Thou tell'st me nothing of the share thou hadst In Babington and Parry's b.l.o.o.d.y treason: Thou diest for this a temporal death; for this Wilt thou, too, die the everlasting death?

MARY.

I am prepared to meet eternity; Within the narrow limits of an hour I shall appear before my Judge's throne.

The Works of Frederick Schiller Part 395

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The Works of Frederick Schiller Part 395 summary

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