Part 12 (1/2)

So weary am I, I must stay Nor go my way, So void of grace, so frail a creature Am I now grown.

52 Sir, go thy way: I cannot strive Nor hope now further to advance, So fallen I.

_Angel._ But two steps more to where doth live She who will give To thee celestial sustenance Charitably.

53 Thither shalt thou go and rest, And shalt taste there of that fare New strength to borrow: Unrivalled is that hostess blest To give of the best To those who weeping come to her, Laden with sorrow.

54 _Soul._ Is it far off?

_Angel._ Nay, very near.

Be not downcast, but now be brave, And let us go, For every remedy and cheer Is certain here.

And whatsoever thou wouldst have We can bestow.

55 Such grace is hers that nought can smirch, Such favours will she show to thee, That innkeeper.

_Soul._ Her name?

_Angel._ The Holy Mother Church.

And holy doctors thou shalt see Are there with her.

56 Joyful thence shall thy going be, Filled then with the Holy Spirit And beautified: O soul, take heart, courageously One step for thee, Nay, scarce one step, and thou shalt merit To be a bride.

57 _Devil._ Stay, whither art thou going now?

Such haste is mere unseemly rage And foolishness: What, thou so puffed with pride, canst thou Thus meekly bow To go on churchward e'er old age Doth on thee press?

58 Let pleasure, pleasure rule thy ways, For many hours in years to roll To thee are given, And when death comes to end thy days, If prayer thou raise, Then all sins that can vex a soul Shall be forgiven.

59 Look to thy wealth and property: There is a group of houses should Be thine by right, Great source of income would they be, Unhappily At thy parents' death the matter stood In no clear light.

60 The case is simple, 'tis averred Such lawsuits in a trice are won At laughter's spell: Next Tuesday let the case be heard And, in a word, Finish thou well what is begun.

Be sensible.

61 _Soul._ O silence, for the love of G.o.d, Persecute me no more: thy hate Doth it not suffice High Heaven's heirs that it hinder should From their abode?

My life to thee early and late I sacrifice.

62 But leave me: so I may efface The cruel wrong that shamelessly Thou hast thus wrought; For now I have scarce breathing-s.p.a.ce To reach that place Where for this poison there may be Some antidote.

63 _Angel._ See the inn: a sure retreat, Even for all those a true home Who would have life.

_Church._ O laden with sore toil and heat!

O tired feet!

_Soul._ Yea, for I destined was to come Weary of strife.

64 _Church._ Who art thou? whither wouldst thou win?

_Soul._ I know not whither, outcast, fated At fortune's whim, A soul unholy, steeped in Its mortal sin, Against the G.o.d who had created Me like to Him.

65 I am that soul ill-starred, unblest, That by nature shone in gleaming Robe of white, Of angel's beauty once possessed, Yea, loveliest, Like a ray refulgent streaming Filled with light.

66 And by my ill-omened fate, My atrocious devilries, Sins treasonous, More dead than death is now my state Bowed with this weight That nought can lighten, vanities Most poisonous.

67 I am a sinner obstinate, Perverse, that know no remedy For this my plight, Oppressed by guilt most obdurate, And profligate, Inclined to evil constantly And all delight.

68 And I banished from my lore All my perfect ornaments And natural graces, By prudence I set no store But evermore Rejoiced in all these vile vestments And worldly places.

69 At each step taken in earthly cares I further sank away from praise, Earning but blame: Have mercy upon one who fares Lost unawares: For, innocence lost, I might not raise Myself from shame.

70 And, for my greater evil, I Can no more repent me fully, Since in new mood My thoughts are mutinous and cry For liberty, Unwilling to obey me duly As once they would.

71 O help me, lady innkeeper, For Satan even now his hand Doth on me lay, And so grievously I err In my despair That I know not if I go or stand Or backward stray.

72 Succour thou my helplessness And strengthen me with holy fare, For I perish, Of thy n.o.ble saintliness Liberal to bless, For knowing my deserts I dare No hope to cherish.