AHASUERUS. Not so! I am accursed. Let me go!
ANSELM. Forgive me, if I have offended thee,
For I am weak—yet see; I pray
you, stay.
Without, the night is wild—and
here is calm.
AHASUERUS. The storm was e’er my lot.
ANSELM. But now the calm
Invites to rest.
AHASUERUS [slowly]. To—rest?
[He stands undecided, then submits to be led back to the fire. For a moment neither speaks, then AHASUERUS cries out.]
AHASUERUS. There is no rest
For me, nor ever can be, for I
Am curst of God.
ANSELM. O miserere! Pray!
Pray and with you I’ll pray.—O,
thou sweet Christ,
Look down in pity on this erring one!
We all like sheep have gone astray; O
God,
Thou shepherd of the flock, lead us to
thee.
AHASUERUS [whispers]. May God be merciful!
ANSELM. O, holy Babe,
That on this night did’st come to
earth to seek
Thine own, look down upon our need and
grant
Thy mercy. Holy Mother, intercede.
AHASUERUS [brokenly]. Cease, cease. It is
enough. O, not for me
Is God’s high mercy,—I
am ever curst.
ANSELM. God’s mercy is not limited, O,
no.
His grace is all-sufficient, even for
thee.
All we are weak and sinful, He is strong.
Oh, call upon His name, and He will come.
[There is silence for a moment, save for the plaintive notes of the organ. Suddenly AHASUERUS rises, tears coursing down his cheeks.]
AHASUERUS. At last, O God, at last, my hard heart
breaks.
I thank thee for these tears; the burden
lifts—
Sing unto God, O brother, and rejoice!
The darkness disappears, and lo, the light—
Behold, the Light!
[As he speaks, a miraculous radiance fills the room; AHASUERUS slowly sinks down upon the floor, ever gazing heavenward in mute adoration, while the monk falls before the Virgin’s shrine in prayer. There is a sound of many feet from without, and the company of the earlier evening enter noisily, but drop on their knees in awe as they behold the miracle. AHASUERUS murmurs in a low voice hardly to be understood.]
AHASUERUS. Lord, comest thou—to me?
[Then dimly, like a distant strain of music, a wondrous Voice is heard, and by some understood.]
THE VOICE. I come, Ahasuerus; lo, I come.
Behold, I stand at the door,
and knock; if
any man hear my voice, and open the door, I will
come in to him
... Behold, I come quickly.
[AHASUERUS falls back, and a look of deep peace overspreads his countenance. The radiance fades away, and there remains only the flickering light of the torches, which are almost extinguished in the great gusts of wind that sweep through the room. Far above, the joyous chimes are pealing a welcome to the new day.]
Literary Monthly, 1905.