The Purgatory of St. Patrick | Page 8

the Scene, and to the end of Scene III.
[footnote] ** "Empthor" -- see note on this name.
[footnote] *** See note for some extracts from Montalvan's "Vida y
Purgaterio de San Patricio".
KING. Silence, miserable Christian,
For my very soul seems fastened

On thy words, compelling me,
How I know not, to regard thee

With strange reverence and fear,
Thinking thou must be that vassal --

That poor slave whom in my dream
I beheld outbreathing flashes,

Saw outflashing living fire,
In whose flame, so lithe and lambent,

My Polonia and my Lesbia
Like poor moths were burned to ashes.
PATRICK. Know, the flame that from my mouth
Issued, is the true
Evangel,
Is the doctrine of the Gospel:--
'Tis the word which I'm
commanded
Unto thee to preach, O King!
To thy subjects and thy
vassals,
To thy daughters, who shall be
Christians through its
means.
KING. Cease, fasten
Thy presumptuous lips, vile Christian,
For thy
words insult and stab me.

LESBIA. Stay!
POLONIA. And wilt thou in thy pity
Try to save him from his anger?
LESBIA. Yes.
POLONIA. Forbear, and let him die.
LESBIA. Thus to die by a king's hands here
Were unjust. [Aside.] (It
is my pity
For these Christians prompts my answer.)
POLONIA. If this second Joseph then,
Like the first one, would
unravel,
Would interpret the king's dreams,
Do not dread the result,
my father;
For if my being seen to burn
Indicates in any manner
I
should ever be a Christian,
As impossible a marvel
Such would be,
as if, being dead,
I could rise and live thereafter.
But in order that
your mind
May be turned from such just anger,
Let us hear now
who this other
Stranger is.
LUIS. Then be attentive,
Beautiful divinity,
For my history thus
commences:--
Great Egerius, King of Ireland,
I by name am Luis
Enius,
And a Christian also, this
Being the sole point of
resemblance
Betwixt Patrick and myself,
Yet a difference
presenting:
For although we two are Christians,
So distinct and so
dissevered
Are we, that not good from evil
Is more opposite in its
essence.
Yet for all that, in defence
Of the faith I believe and
reverence,
I would lose a thousand lives
(Such the esteem for it I
cherish).
Yes, by God! The oath alone
Shows how firmly I confess
Him.
I no pious tales or wonders,
Worked in my behalf by Heaven,

Have to speak of: no; dark crimes,
Robberies, murders, sacrileges,

Treasons, treacheries, betrayals,

Must I tell instead, however

Vain it be in me to glory
In my having such effected.
I in one of
Ireland's many
Isles was born; the planets seven,
I suspect, in wild
abnormal
Interchange of influences,
Must have at my hapless

birth-time
All their various gifts presented.
Fickleness the Moon
implanted
In my nature; subtle Hermes
With and genius
ill-employed;
(Better ne'er to have possessed them);
Wanton Venus
gave me passions --
All the flatteries of the senses,
And stern Mars
a cruel mind
(Mars and Venus both together
What will they not
give?); the Sun
Gave to me an easy temper,
Prone to spend, and
when means failed me
Theft and robbery were my helpers;
Jupiter
presumptuous pride,
Thoughts fantastic and unfettered,
Gave me;
Saturn, rage and anger,
Valour and a will determined
On its ends;
and from such causes
Followed the due consequences.
Here from
Ireland being banished,
By a cause I do not mention
Through
respect to him, my father
Came to Perpignan, and settled
In that
Spanish town, when I
Scarce my first ten years had ended,
And
when sixteen came, he died.
May God rest his soul in heaven!--

Orphaned, I remained the prey
Of my passions and my pleasures,

O'er whose tempting plain I ran
Without rein or curb to check me.

The two poles of my existence,
On which all the rest depended
For
support, were play and women.
What a base on which to rest me!

Here my tongue would not be able
To acquaint you 'in extenso'

With my actions: a brief abstract
May, however, be attempted.
I, to
outrage a young maiden,
Stabbed to death a noble elder,
Her own
father: for the sake

Of his wife, a most respected
Cavalier I slew, as
he
Lay beside her in the helpless
State of sleep, his honour bathing

In his blood, the bed presenting
A sad theatre of crimes,
Murder
and adultery blended.
Thus the father and the husband
Life for
honour's sake surrendered;
For even honour has its martyrs.
May
God rest their souls in heaven!--
Dreading punishment for this,
I
fled hastily, and entered
France, where my exploits, methinks,
Time
will cease not to remember;
For, assisting in the wars
Which at that
time were contended
Bravely betwixt France and England,
I took
military service
Under Stephen, the French king,
And a fight which
chance presented
Showed my courage to be such,
That the king
himself, as guerdon
Of my valour, gave to me
The commission of

an ensign.
How that debt I soon repaid,
I prefer not now to tell thee.

Back to Perpignan, thus honoured,
I returned, and having entered

Once a guard-house there to play,
For some trifle I lost temper,

Struck a serjeant, killed a captain,
And maimed others there
assembled.
At the cries from every quarter
Speedily the watch
collected,
And in flying to a church,
As they hurried to prevent me,

I a catch-pole killed. ('Twas something
One good work to have
effected
'Mid so many that were bad.)
May God rest his soul in
heaven!--
Far I fled into the country,
And asylum found and shelter

In a convent of religious,
Which was founded in that desert,

Where I lived retired and