The Blind Monk.  Count Hugo once, but now the wreck
Of what I was.  O Hoheneck! 
The passionate will, the pride, the wrath
That bore me headlong on my path,
Stumbled and staggered into fear,
And failed me in my mad career,
As a tired steed some evil-doer,
Alone upon a desolate moor,
Bewildered, lost, deserted, blind,
And hearing loud and close behind
The o’ertaking steps of his pursuer. 
Then suddenly, from the dark there came
A voice that called me by my name,
And said to me, “Kneel down and pray!”
And so my terror passed away,
Passed utterly away forever. 
Contrition, penitence, remorse,
Came on me, with o’erwhelming force;
A hope, a longing, an endeavor,
By days of penance and nights of prayer,
To frustrate and defeat despair! 
Calm, deep, and still is now my heart. 
With tranquil waters overflowed;
A lake whose unseen fountains start,
Where once the hot volcano glowed. 
And you, O Prince of Hoheneck! 
Have known me in that earlier time,
A man of violence and crime,
Whose passions brooked no curb nor check. 
Behold me now, in gentler mood,
One of this holy brotherhood. 
Give me your hand; here let me kneel;
Make your reproaches sharp as steel;
Spurn me, and smite me on each cheek;
No violence can harm the meek,
There is no wound Christ cannot heal! 
Yes; lift your princely hand, and take
Revenge, if ’t is revenge you seek,
Then pardon me, for Jesus’ sake!

Prince Henry. Arise, Count Hugo! let there be
No farther strife nor enmity
Between us twain; we both have erred! 
Too rash in act, too wroth in word,
From the beginning have we stood
In fierce, defiant attitude,
Each thoughtless of the other’s right,
And each reliant on his might. 
But now our souls are more subdued;
The hand of God, and not in vain,
Has touched us with the fire of pain. 
Let us kneel down, and side by side
Pray, till our souls are purified,
And pardon will not be denied!

          (They kneel.)

* * * * *

THE REFECTORY.

* * * * *

Gaudiolum of Monks at midnight.  LUCIFER disguised as a Friar.

Friar Paul (sings). Ave! color vini clari,
        Dulcis potus, non aman,
        Tua nos inebriari
          Digneris potentia!

Friar Cuthbert. Not so much noise, my worthy freres, You’ll disturb the Abbot at his prayers.

  Friar Paul (sings). O! quam placens in colore! 
        O! quam fragrans in odore! 
        O! quam sapidum in ore! 
          Dulce linguse vinculum!

Friar Cuthbert. I should think your tongue had broken its chain!

  Friar Paul (sings). Felix venter quern intrabis! 
        Felix guttur quod rigabis! 
        Felix os quod tu lavabis! 
          Et beata labia!