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 THE DEAR 
 SAINT ELIZABETH 
 
 A tragic romance of true history, in four acts and 
 eight scenes, with musical accompaniment 
 
 BY 
 
 ELIZA O'B. LUMMIS 
 
 The heart of man should as a censer be. 
 Closed unto earth., but unto Heaven all free. 
 
 —Roman Breviary 
 
 BOSTON 
 
 RICHARD G. BADGER 
 
 THE GORHAM PRESS 
 I912 
 
Copyright, 1912, by Eliza O'B. Lummis 
 
 Dramatic and All Rightb Reserved 
 
 T S 3S's 3 
 
 Thb Gorham Press, Boston, U. S. A. 
 
 gCI.A30!»92a 
 
 ¥J. 'i 
 
Respectfully dedicated to 
 
 His Eminence 
 
 JOHN M. FARLEY, D. D., 
 
 Cardinal Archbishop 
 
 of 
 
 New York 
 
PREFACE 
 
 The Drama was born In the Church, and how- 
 ever crude were the first "Mysteries," they stamped 
 upon it the image of God, and sent it forth with 
 the noble and dignified mission, of educating the peo- 
 ple in the remembrance of things divine. If, as the 
 world grows older, that mission has been forgotten, 
 degraded and prostituted, the increasing popu- 
 lar interest in religious plays gives hope of a 
 salutary reaction. The Passion Play at Ober Am- 
 mergau Is an object lesson in future possibilities, and 
 the Church may come to use again the picture les- 
 sons of the stage In repressing sensuality and im- 
 pressing anew on the nations the living truths of 
 Christianity. 
 
 In canonizing a Saint, the Church sets her seal 
 upon true virtue, that It may become an inspira- 
 tion to mankind. 
 
 Unsplritual minds may not wholly grasp the mo- 
 tives that inspire heroic sanctity, nevertheless, we 
 must regard the Saint not merely as a faultless 
 statue of chaste marble, but as a being of flesh and 
 blood tempted in all things as we, yet steadfastly 
 living for higher things. 
 
 Such Soul Life expands as a flower, lifting itself 
 above the mire of human passion to feed upon the 
 dew and sunshine of Heaven, yet the germ of its 
 ravishing beauty dwelt in the dust whence we too 
 have sprung. 
 
 The Church rarely canonizes a Saint until one or 
 more centuries have passed that the subject may be 
 studied dispassionately. In the case of a martyr or 
 a public character like Elizabeth who is canonized 
 
PREFACE 
 
 by popular demand and whose virtues are attested 
 by a whole people, the decree is hastened. 
 
 It may be further explained that while the mir- 
 acles of a saint are necessary to the decree of can- 
 onization, as supernatural proofs of favors with God, 
 all miracles are not accepted and must be proven by 
 a rigid examination. 
 
 The Saint lore of the Catholic Church is a golden 
 treasury for the dramatist. But whatever be the 
 good will of non-Catholic or creedless writers, it is 
 certain that the religious drama would gain greatly 
 by Catholic interpretation. 
 
 That there is a future for the true religious play 
 is not to be doubted. In this belief I submit to the 
 judgment of an American public this first unworthy 
 attempt to bring the life of a mediaeval Saint in 
 touch with the modern Stage, and beg the encourage- 
 ment of those who have at heart with myself the 
 moral and artistic mission of the modern drama. 
 
 Eliza O'B. Lummis. 
 
INTRODUCTORY NOTE 
 
 The drama follows closely the lines of true his- 
 tory and the characters and events are identified 
 with the life story. The children of Saint Elizabeth 
 were cast out with her, or rather, they followed 
 their banished mother. As, however, the greater 
 part of her life was lived in solitude, we have pre- 
 ferred to omit this fact as unduly increasing the in- 
 cidentals of the play. 
 
 The moral of the drama is shown through logical 
 results, being the outcome of principles expressed by 
 the characters, as shown in their after-lives. Hugo 
 a courtier, declares for the life of the senses and the 
 gratification of the will; while Master Conrad, 
 later the Director of Elizabeth, upholds the value 
 of Christian detachment, proving that the man 
 who is governed by passion becomes in time a weak- 
 ling, unable to respond to the call of his better na- 
 ture. Elizabeth typifies the Soul-life, and her vir- 
 tue, though misunderstood by the people of her time, 
 is later recognized by posterity. As a gracious ex- 
 ample of beautiful womanhood, she seeks to im- 
 press her high ideals upon the frivolous men and wom- 
 en of her time. Failing in this direct endeavor, she 
 lifts her own life to the spiritual heights she con- 
 templates and influences the generations to come. 
 
SYNOPSIS 
 
 Act I. Scene i 
 
 A festive scene. Peasants are dancing and prep- 
 arations being made for the marriage of the young 
 Elizabeth to Louis, Landgrave of Thuringia. The 
 opening dialogue between Master Conrad and Hugo 
 strikes the key-note and tells the story of the 
 coming espousal. The bridegroom later, combats 
 the disapproval of his frivolous courtiers, who fear 
 the saintly bride will curb their pleasures. The 
 bridal party approaches, and Elizabeth's character is 
 revealed in some historic incidents. The marriage 
 proceeds amid symbolic ceremonies, with singing by 
 a choir of boys and by young maidens, who 
 hold lamps in their hands, and scatter roses in the 
 path of the bride. 
 
 Act 2. Scene i 
 
 Louis, the young husband, takes the vow to go to 
 the Holy War. Elizabeth is seen descending the 
 rugged paths from the castle, and the historic miracle 
 of the roses is gracefully introduced. In a love 
 scene between the husband and wife, Elizabeth finds 
 the crusader's Cross which Louis has concealed in 
 his hunting pocket. She is overcome, and begs him 
 not to leave her. But recognizing that she has in- 
 spired him to a manly and virtuous life, conquers her 
 affection and bids him go to the Holy War. The 
 curtain falls as the hunters return. 
 
 Act 2. Scene 2 
 
 The departure of the crusading army. The hero- 
 ism of Elizabeth and Louis is contrasted with the 
 
lo THE DEAR SAINT ELIZABETH 
 
 weakness and irresolution of Hugo, who cannot 
 brave, the hardships of the soldier's life. Agnes, 
 Louis' sister, urges Hugo to the endeavor, but a 
 representative of his sensual existence uses a counter 
 influence which succeeds. 
 
 Act 3. Scene i 
 
 Elizabeth, in the absence of her husband, encour- 
 ages the women of her time to more useful lives, 
 saying that industry was once the guardian of wom- 
 anly virtue. There is a famine in the land and the 
 poor troop in to be fed. They are envious and un- 
 grateful, but Elizabeth turns their hatred into re- 
 spect and love. She encourages a woman who com- 
 plains of ''the curse of children," by pointing out the 
 glory of motherhood. Hugo is among the poor, pen- 
 niless and despairing. On many pretexts the people 
 have turned against Elizabeth, and insurrection has 
 grown in her kingdom. During a tournament in 
 the castle news is brought that Louis is dead. The 
 messenger brings the ring he gave as a true token. 
 Elizabeth is inconsolable, and vows her love to 
 heaven. A mob beats at the gates and Henry, 
 Louis's brother, claims the throne. He is upheld 
 by many and exiles Elizabeth, putting her out in the 
 snow storm that is raging, alone with her maid, 
 Guta. 
 
 Act 3. Scene 2 
 
 Elizabeth is seen descending a rugged path, a 
 light around her head, while angel voices are faintly 
 heard amid the storm. She seeks shelter at the 
 Monastery where Monks are chanting the evening 
 hymn, but Henry has forbidden his subjects to give 
 
THE DEAR SAINT ELIZABETH ii 
 
 her refuge. A poor woman whom she has be- 
 friended ungratefully refuses to harbor her, and 
 frivolous courtiers returning from a ball ridicule 
 and denounce her. Cast out by all, she recognizes 
 a higher Providence in these events, and by the 
 sacrifice of earthly affections hopes to gain the 
 precious Pearl of Divine Love, for which a man 
 must sell all that he hath. Dawn comes slowly as 
 Elizabeth and Guta find refuge in the Church, 
 which is brightly illuminated as she enters; the old 
 sacristan crying out that "an angel has passed!" 
 
 Act 4. Scene i 
 
 Elizabeth, exiled, is living in a wretched hovel, 
 tending the poor, and reverenced as a Saint. Fran- 
 cis of Assisi has sent her his mantle. She cures Hugo 
 of moral leprosy and gives him new courage. Her 
 friends approach to offer her riches and a marriage 
 with the Emperor Frederick of Germany. 
 
 Having learned wisdom through self-renunciation, 
 she refuses all earthly consolation. She is a Queen 
 indeed now, having won the hearts of her people 
 by condescension and tender sympathy. She has 
 found at last the Soul Life. "The body is nothing," 
 etc., etc. — "The Soul, a beauteous thing! It buds 
 in life, but Heaven's its blossoming!" The scene 
 ends with her death on a poor pallet, amid heavenly 
 manifestations that are withdrawn as faith grows in 
 those around. A paralytic is healed and the peo- 
 ple cry out that Elizabeth is a Saint. Conrad, her 
 Director, bids them await the Church's verdict. "It 
 will come in time!" 
 
12 THE DEAR SAINT ELIZABETH 
 
 Act 4. Scene 2 
 
 Musical Tableau 
 
 The canonization of Elizabeth is represented amid 
 ringing of bells and chanting of the Te Deum. In- 
 spired by a worthy object, art, music and song reach 
 their highest perfection in the aim of glorifying God. 
 The Papal delegate holds the decree, Hugo in Crus- 
 aders' dress guards the catafalque; rich and poor 
 mingle in a crowd. The Emperor Frederick is lay- 
 ing his crown on the tomb and a living picture of 
 the Miracle of the Roses is revealed. 
 
 Note 
 
 The music to accompany this play is defined as a 
 Tone Poem, consecutive and symbolic, which, strik- 
 ing at first the note of the material, leads the audi- 
 ence by degrees to the spiritual heights of the Finale. 
 The music incidental to the festivities should be 
 given on the stage. The celestial music should 
 come from above; while the orchestral music 
 should accompany the play as thought follows upon 
 speech and blooms into words or is the inspiration of 
 them. Thus the music may be compared to a dia- 
 logue, where each part has an individual character, 
 and all combined tell the story in musical num- 
 bers. 
 
 MBCaflMBtaaaeb- 
 
THE DEAR SAINT ELIZABETH 13 
 Dramatis Personae 
 
 Louis. Landgrave of Thuringla (20 years old). 
 
 Henry. His brother. 
 
 Conrad of Marburg, Palmer & Ap. Delegate, later 
 
 Confessor to Elizabeth. 
 
 Count Stephan i rp • j r j 
 
 ^ ^ TT rriends of Louis. 
 
 Count Hugo I 
 
 Walter of Varila (Seneschal). 
 
 The Bishop of Bamberg (Uncle to Elizabeth). 
 
 Thibault of Champagne | 
 
 (King of Navarre) | Court Minstrels. 
 
 Henry Von Ofterdingen | 
 
 Kurt, A Young Page. 
 
 A Sacristan. 
 
 1st Beggar. 
 
 2nd Beggar. 
 
 Two small children, the eldest a boy of 6 years. 
 
 A Paralytic. 
 
 The Princess Elizabeth, Queen of Hungary and 
 Duchess of Thuringia (when married to Louis, 15 
 years old). 
 
 The Princess Agnes, sister to Louis. 
 
 Sophie, Mother to Louis. 
 
 Guta I 
 
 Isentrude | Friends of Elizabeth. 
 
 Maida j 
 
 A Gypsy. 
 
 Ladies of Honor, Beggars, Lepers, Courtiers, 
 Hunters, Acolytes, Children and Crusading Army. 
 
 (Many small parts may be duplicated). 
 
14 THE DEAR SAINT ELIZABETH 
 
 Scene i. 
 
 Scene 2. 
 
 Scene 3. 
 
 Scene 4. 
 
 Scene 5. 
 Scenes 6, 7, 8. 
 place. 
 
 Eisenach, Thurlngia, (with distant 
 
 view of Warburg Castle). 
 The Valley of Lilies. 
 Great Hall In the Castle of Warburg. 
 Eisenach, etc., as before. 
 
 Marburg, Street and Market- 
 
THE DEAR SAINT ELIZABETH 15 
 THE DEAR SAINT ELIZABETH 
 
 Act I. Scene I 
 
 A woodland approach to Eisenach, the Castle of 
 Warburg above on the heights, reached by cir- 
 cuitous mountain paths. At the foot of the hill on 
 the left are indicated a peasant's hut and a monas- 
 tery, embowered in trees. To the right a church facade 
 with steps. Midway a large wayside crucifix, hung 
 with grapes and ears of corn. Festoons and decora- 
 tions everywhere. Peasants strolling and dancing a 
 national dance in the background. Hugo, in gala 
 attire talking covertly with a peasant girl. Conrad, 
 in pilgrim's dress, leaning on his staff looking on. 
 He is watching Hugo with some curiosity. Prepar- 
 ations for the marriage are being made and the 
 church bells chime softly at intervals. 
 
 Conrad — Pardon, Sir! I'm but a stranger in 
 the city. What means this festivity? These gar- 
 lands? Surely some event more than common! 
 'Tis a goodly sight! Much has chanced, no doubt, 
 since last I passed this way, some years now gone. 
 
 Hugo — A stranger surely, not to have heard 
 of happenings like these. 'Tis an old story. The 
 Princess Elizabeth of Hungary, who hath been 
 brought up at this Court since she was but a little 
 maid, is about to marry our Sovereign, the Land- 
 grave Louis. For a whole week has the city made 
 holiday. Some said that the marriage would 
 never take place. The maid would rather chant 
 hymns and fast, they said, than yield herself to her 
 lover's arms. (Bells chime gaily). Yet it has come 
 to pass. Hark to the marriage bells! 
 
 Conrad — How times passes! It all cometh back 
 to mind! I remember the child at her father's 
 
1 6 THE DEAR SAINT ELIZABETH 
 
 Court in Hungary years since. A tiny maid, 
 with promise of great beauty. Gay as a sunbeam, 
 yet with a pitiful heart for suffering; and always 
 at her prayers. They said she talked with the 
 angels ! 
 
 Hugo — True. A saintly maid. But for my 
 part, I do not admire prudery! 'Twill be a sorry 
 day for us when she is mistress of the land. Long 
 faces; prayers; fasting and minding one's manners! 
 Not for me! (He dances about and cries gaily) ; 
 Life was made to enjoy say I ! I love good wine, 
 and merry maids, and feasting and sweet delights! 
 Why are we given our senses but to delight them 
 with pleasure? 
 
 Conrad — (Seriously, laying his hand on Hu- 
 go's arm). You do not then lay claim to a higher 
 life than that of the senses? So lives the cur! Yet 
 he owns one virtue that men sometimes lack. Fidel- 
 ity to a Master! You, it seems, know no will but 
 your own ! 
 
 Hugo— (Shaking off Conrad). Save your max- 
 ims for the pulpit! Am I not a man? My own 
 master! Knowing well what I want, and with a 
 mind to choose and have my way? That hath not 
 your cur. 
 
 Conrad — Nay, man! The body is mated to 
 the Soul ! An unequal union, if the body, too kindly 
 comforted, doth drag it down from noble flights. 
 (Approches him again, reasoning kindly). You 
 are not Master, but Slave! He is the man who 
 can say to the body: I am Master, not you! What 
 I will, I shall deny you. The Soul is King within 
 me, and the Body is but its Thrall ! 
 
 Hugo — (Impatiently shaking him off; laughing 
 in a good natured way) . Gro to ! You grow weari- 
 some. Keep your homilies till I can better stomach 
 
THE DEAR SAINT ELIZABETH 17 
 
 them. Lent is coming! Nay, I will play my life 
 against yours, but I have the best of it. Time will 
 tell! (Approaches C. and whispers). A word in 
 your ear. Secure your place in good season. There 
 will be goodly feasting and you look hungry. Ha! 
 Ha! Ha! (Laughs and exit). 
 
 Conrad — Farewell, Sir! Tis ever thus with 
 youth, that seeketh Self alway, instead of God! 
 (With dignity, shaking his head, and looking back. 
 He enters the church reverently). 
 
 (Orchestra plays a low running Prelude as peas- 
 ants arrange carpet and flowers for the bridal and 
 the music grows fainter until lost.) 
 
 Enter Louis, dressed as a bridegroom, with Hugo 
 and other courtiers. 
 
 Louis — Faith! Ye spent so much time in rob- 
 ing me, my Lords, I greatly feared my bride would 
 think I did lack ardor! 
 
 Hugo — ^Would that thou did'st lack ardor in 
 her cause! 
 
 (The others press forward and stand with him, 
 facing Louis). 
 
 Stephan — My Lord, he thinks as we; who 
 dared not speak. The bride's a saint ! But men and 
 Kingdoms need a woman who's something more of 
 earth and less of Heaven! 
 
 (Louis is amazed). 
 
 Hugo — (Excitedly pacing up and down) — Such 
 virtue's out of place in times like these! We are not 
 monks; to fast and chant out prayers! Would 
 thou had'st found a mate (ashamed to speak) — 
 less holy then! who'd queen it here. Is it too late 
 to mar this marriage? 
 
 Louis — (With energy) — That I ne'er shall do! 
 (lifts his cap). Mine own sweet little sister! How 
 
i8 THE DEAR SAINT ELIZABETH 
 
 can men speak so! (Looks in amazement and dis- 
 gust at courtiers). 
 
 Hugo — (Resignedly). Well! Pious wives note 
 not, for prayers, when husbands' hearts do stray. 
 
 Louis — (Turning in anger and drawing 
 sword). Hugo! thou art my friend, or with this 
 steel I'd smite those prating lips, that speak a heart 
 of guile. (Putting back sword). Nay friends; 
 (overcomes himself) forgive such heat upon this 
 holy day. (Turns and faces them). Come, gen- 
 tlemen, I swear! If beauteous dames from lands 
 afar were brought to this my court, I'd choose but 
 her. Her virtue do I prize more than my King- 
 dom! Virtue's more rare than Beauty; far! If ye 
 do love me, speak no more like this. Elizabeth's 
 my bride. Or none. Come let's within; the 
 trumpet sounds her coming. (They enter the 
 church). The bells chime softly at intervals, and 
 a fanfare of distant trumpets is heard. Also distant 
 bridal march is sung. A crowd gathers, peasants 
 are pushed back to make room. The bridal proces- 
 sion enters, preceded by the cross bearers, incense, 
 etc; a prelate in cardinal's robe; choir boys in 
 quaint monastic dress, singing two verses of the Bri- 
 dal hymn. They are followed by a number of 
 young girls in white, holding lamps high in their 
 hands and with baskets of roses which they strew, 
 singing alternately with the boy choir two verses of 
 their song. 
 
 Bridal Hymn 
 
 Hail to the Bride, upon whose raven tresses 
 The sunlight falls, a crown of mystic gold! 
 Hail to the maid, whose union Heaven blesses. 
 Hasten to praise her while the hours are tolled ! 
 Hail to the Bride. Hail to the Bride! 
 
THE DEAR SAINT ELIZABETH 19 
 
 Joy and delight shall wait upon her footsteps. 
 Hail to the Bride whose troth is pledged to-day! 
 Glory to God and joy unto His handmaid; 
 Hail to the Bride! oh sing along the way! 
 Hail to the Bride! Hail to the Bride! 
 
 Song of the Maidens 
 
 Their song is more solemn (with organ) forming 
 a contrast in harmony to the boys' joyous hymn, 
 which is light and graceful in cadence. They sing 
 the chorus together in contrasting time. 
 
 Maiden's Song 
 
 The Bridegroom cometh! Go ye forth to meet 
 
 Him, 
 Oh ! Virgins pure ! Your lamps with love alight ! 
 Be ye found worthy at the joyous summons, 
 Quickly to follow in your garments white! 
 
 (Repeat last words). 
 See! o'er the hills the radiant dawn is breaking! 
 There! mid the lilies He doth wait for thee; 
 Rise, love and come, the shadows flee before Him! 
 With thy Beloved, evermore thou'lt be. 
 
 (They enter the church while the rest of the 
 bridal party follows; the Landgravine Sophie pre- 
 cedes the Princesses Elizabeth and Agnes, who walk 
 together. Elizabeth is in bridal dress and is at- 
 tended by Walter of Varila and Kurt who is in white 
 and carries her prayerbook. Courtiers, ladies of 
 honor, etc. The princesses wear jewelled crowns. 
 While the procession is taking time to enter 
 the church the bridal party stops a moment and 
 separates — Walter of Varila attending at the church 
 door). 
 
20 THE DEAR SAINT ELIZABETH 
 
 Agnes — (Turns to admire her dress; whispers 
 to Elizabeth) Sister, there are many gallants at 
 court today. The Emperor of Germany, it is 
 whispered, may aspire to my hand ! (Aloud) Doth 
 my robe become me? My tire woman hath wrought 
 it bravely, think you not? The train of lace, is 
 from far Venice! And the diamond sparklets shine 
 in the sun like frost jewels. Tell me, do I look 
 well? 
 
 Elizabeth — Sister, thou art always beautiful to 
 me! And thy dress becometh thee rarely. Yet for- 
 give me if today, I cannot dwell on trivialities. 
 (Clasps her hands joyously). The heart of the 
 Bride must dwell in Heaven on her marriage morn- 
 ing! The maid who giveth herself in marriage 
 crosseth the threshold of a new world. An Eden! 
 it may be! but the serpent lieth hidden among the 
 roses to delude her if she be unwary! Not like Eve 
 I'd be to lure my love to ruin. A helpmate rather; 
 to set my feet and his upon a ladder, that leadeth 
 to the stars! 
 
 (So Sophie). Madame! Let me kneel but a 
 moment at the shrine where I have oft found com- 
 fort; I have need of wisdom! 
 
 Orchestra. (The running joyous accompaniment 
 pianissimo. Characteristic motive of Elizabeth). 
 
 Sophie — (Reluctantly). Go then. But delay 
 not more than a moment child. Remember, thou 
 hast a realm to govern and must be more worldly 
 wise! 
 
 (Elizabeth kneels before the crucifix. She prays 
 simply as a child, but becomes inspired). 
 
 Elizabeth's Prayer 
 
 O Lord Divine, when but a little child, I laid 
 my flowers here. Now these my joys I bring to 
 
THE DEAR SAINT ELIZABETH 21 
 
 gain thy blessing. (Musing). 'Tis pitiful and 
 true! Earth's glories fade in one brief moment. 
 Lord, give what is best; what Thou, O God! 
 would'st find most precious. (She is silent a mo- 
 ment then looks up). Lord, this earth of thine 
 crowned Thee with sorrows. (Startled). I am 
 crowned with gems! Oh, thoughtless maid, to 
 flaunt thy jewels here! I'll cast them hence with 
 tears. (Takes off her crown and lays it at the 
 foot of the crucifix). And ask but only this; to 
 comfort Thee, O Christ! Who weepest men's sins, 
 with my poor sympathy. (Prostrates herself a few 
 moments, with a fold of her mantle held before her 
 face. (Courtiers talk in groups, laughing covertly 
 about Elizabeth. Hugo and Stephan approach 
 Agnes who coquets with them). 
 
 (When E. speaks the music is pianissimo. When 
 she is silent, the music is heard more loudly in a 
 tender cadence). 
 
 Agnes — (Angrily). Trivalities indeed! (more 
 sadly — to herself). Yet she is right! The beauty 
 of the King's daughter is within! (Resuming her 
 frivolous manner). Nay, we must live joyously as 
 all the world. (Laughing merrily). The roses 
 of youth bloom but once ! 
 
 (Hugo and Stephan join with her in talking and 
 laughing in low tones). 
 
 Sophie — (Walking up and down angrily). 
 Come Madam! Enough! We are not saints like 
 you! Parading our singular piety to the world. 
 Why are you not like all the rest? You pray like 
 an old nun who has nothing else to do. Put on 
 your crown and let us end this nonsense! 
 
 Agnes — (Pettishly). Sister, you forget your 
 station and us! I wonder that my brother should 
 have consented to marry you; your tastes are those 
 
22 THE DEAR SAINT ELIZABETH 
 
 of the peasant and you shame us. I am quite 
 sure that you were changed in the cradle! 
 
 (Trumpet sounds within church). All start and 
 prepare to take places. 
 
 Elizabeth — (Coming forward ashamed). Ma- 
 dam, Agnes, I beg you to pardon me! 'Tis my 
 wedding day! And wrapt in prayer, I forgot all 
 else. (With an ecstatic look — eyes raised to 
 Heaven). The Bridegroom cometh! Let us go to 
 meet him ! ( Bells chime and march taken up as they 
 enter the church. Walter of Varila enforces sil- 
 ence on the Courtiers pressing about him). 
 
 Courtiers — (To Walter). 'Tis not yet too 
 late. Break up this marriage! (All enter and 
 choral music is heard in the church and the bell 
 chimes for the elevation of the Host. The peas- 
 ants kneel reverently, crowding towards the door 
 to peep within. The choir takes up the bridal hymn 
 in bright and joyous measure. The Courtiers come 
 out in procession, the Ladies of Honor, etc. The 
 maidens holding lamps high in their hands stand, 
 scattering roses in the path of the Bride. They di- 
 vide, grouping themselves on either side of the 
 church steps and swaying in a graceful rhythmic 
 dance. The boys sing the last verse just before the 
 bride appears, as the maidens scatter the roses. Con- 
 certed harmony, the joyous notes of the bridal march 
 overpowering for the moment the mystical cadences. 
 
 Bridal Hymn 
 
 Scatter your roses on the royal highway ; 
 Charm with sweet music every care away! 
 Tread but on flowers while the hours are flying, 
 Hail to the Bride and to her Spouse for aye! 
 Hail to the Bride, 
 
 Hail to the Bride! 
 
THE DEAR SAINT ELIZABETH 23 
 
 (The Bride and Bridegroom stand on the church 
 steps, with prelate behind, holding his hands over 
 them in blessing. The chimes peal out ; the orches- 
 tra takes up the theme in a burst of joyous music. 
 The people go wild, throwing their caps in the air 
 and shoutinng **Huzza! Heaven bless them!" etc. 
 The Courtiers come out behind the bridal party 
 making a tableau.) 
 
 (Curtain.) 
 
24 THE DEAR SAINT ELIZABETH 
 
 Act II. Scene I 
 
 (5 Years Later) 
 
 (Woodland and hunting musical theme, rip- 
 pling of brooks. The horns of the Hunters are 
 heard, and the baying of dogs. Hunters and Fal- 
 coners rush past with spears and cross-bows, one of 
 them holding back by the leash two greyhounds). 
 
 First Hunter — Which way went the quarry? 
 
 Second Hunter — ^We will scare him from his 
 lair by our numbers. (Takes the leash). Stay 
 here, some of you, until we call. 
 
 First Hunter — Sound two blasts then, upon 
 the horn, for we would be in at the death. (They 
 throw themselves down on the turf to rest and throw 
 dice or mend their hunting gear in the background. 
 Enter Louis and Conrad of Marburg in conversa- 
 tion. They sit on a rustic seat, talking). 
 
 (In this scene the orchestral music is light and 
 graceful, but sad and tender at times. A motive of 
 Elizabeth at the rose miracle. The music should 
 accompany the scenes with an occasional interlude). 
 
 Louis — Conrad, I have long felt restless in the 
 luxury of Court life. It unmans me. I would do 
 braver service for Heaven before I die. Say ! What 
 news cometh of late from Jerusalem? 
 
 Conrad — The infidels are in possession of the 
 Holy Sepulchre, and the sacred ground hallowed by 
 the footsteps of the Saviour. Little need to ask if 
 there be want of men like thee! Of late the Eng- 
 lish King hath wars at home and hath withdrawn 
 his army. Louis, thou must be our leader! Yet 
 have I held my peace, knowing the ties that bind 
 thee. Jerusalem! 'Tis the clarion call to every 
 true heart! What nobler service than to battle for 
 
THE DEAR SAINT ELIZABETH 25 
 
 honor of the Most High? 
 
 Louis — (Struggles with himself; walking up and 
 down in agitation). Thou hast indeed taken me at 
 my word. Love's ties are strong, my friend ! ( Strug- 
 gles with himself). My wife, my little ones; my 
 people! Yet if God call they must e'en be broken. 
 (Takes off cap). 
 
 Conrad — Courage! Walter of Varila will act 
 as Seneschal in thy absence. 'Tis a trusty heart. 
 
 Louis — (Bravely). Then must it be done; nay, 
 it shall be done! (Debating with himself). To 
 fight for the Church! To wrest from pagan hands 
 the sacred Christian shrines; it sets my soul on 
 fire! I were less than a man to remain behind! 
 How can Christians spend whole lives in pleasure 
 and dallying? To die perchance for the faith; 
 'tis worth a kingdom! (Musingly). 
 
 Conrad — Thou hast the spirit of Kings! Yet 
 remember, the Crusader faces hard service, cold, 
 hunger, wounds. He renounceth comfort for the 
 body, and findeth death, too often in the end. 
 
 Louis — (Humbly). I am, I trust, a true Chris- 
 tian, and have ever denied myself. 'Tis not so hard 
 a fate! A soldier must needs fare roughly. God 
 will strengthen him in the true cause. (Proudly). 
 The Crusader weareth the Cross upon his bosom, 
 which carried with love turneth bitter waters to 
 sweet. 
 
 Conrad — Take then at my hand the Vow of the 
 Crusader. Wilt thou seek first The Kingdom of 
 God and His Glory, and fight to defend the cause 
 of Christ? (Louis kneels and kisses Conrad's ring, 
 saying, "I will!") 
 
 Conrad — ^Take then His emblem as a symbol. 
 In this Sign shalt thou conquer! (Makes the Sign of 
 the Cross over him and gives him a small cross). 
 
26 THE DEAR SAINT ELIZABETH 
 
 Louis — (Kissing the cross and rising). Faith 
 groweth in me; and hope and love! God giveth 
 strength! (Agonized). Yet must I pay the price, 
 Elizabeth! (He struggles with himself). 
 
 (Soft music, with harps, the motive accentuated). 
 
 (While they speak, Elizabeth descends the path 
 from the Castle, attended by Kurt, a young page. 
 She carries something in her robe. She is confused 
 at seeing them and would pass. But Louis turns 
 and sees her.) 
 
 Louis — (Whispers to Conrad). I cannot tell 
 her yet. Not yet! (He hides the Cross in his 
 hunting pocket). (They watch her coming). 
 
 Conrad — Courage, son! I will leave thee for a 
 little; to say mine office in these shady dells. 
 (Exit). 
 
 Louis — (Calls to Elizabeth). Come hither, loved 
 one! 
 
 Elizabeth — (Reluctant and confused, she 
 would pass and tries to conceal her burden). For- 
 give me, Louis; I cannot stop today! The poor 
 await me. 
 
 Louis — (Annoyed). Have I not told thee that 
 I like not to see thee tread so often unattended, 
 these rough mountain paths? Thou art still deli- 
 cate and tender; and there are rough characters 
 abroad at times. Where are thy maids? Let them 
 be thy messengers. 
 
 Elizabeth — (Approaches him and pleads ten- 
 derly and coaxingly). Be not angry, husband! The 
 poor love not to be thus served. Their lot is hard 
 and they yearn for pity, more even than for food. 
 The crust we cast to them they devour like dogs; 
 but blessed, and given by a pitying hand, it gaineth 
 Sacramental grace, and lifteth them to humanity. 
 Who would rob oneself of such honorable service? 
 
THE DEAR SAINT ELIZABETH 27 
 
 Louis — (Still annoyed). Thou art always right, 
 Elizabeth. Yet this is too much! What is here? 
 carried like a peasant, in thy robe? (She is con- 
 fused and lifts her eyes to heaven). 
 
 Elizabeth — Nay, Louis, love, the poor — 'tis 
 bread and wine. 
 
 Louis — (Seizing her robe roughly, there falls 
 from it a shower of red and white roses). What is 
 this? 'Tis not the time for roses. Where culled ye 
 them? 
 
 Elizabeth — (Confused). Oh Louis! Ask me 
 not! 
 
 Louis — Why, what strange thing is this! no 
 bread or wine, and roses! — whence are they? (Eliz- 
 abeth prays). 
 
 Kurt — (Running up). Roses! Roses from 
 Heaven ! My Lord ; she carried bread and wine ! I 
 saw her take it from the Castle and begged to share 
 her burden. She prayed ; and God has changed it 
 to roses! Oh Master, I think my Lady is an angel; 
 don't you? I shall be like her when I grow up! 
 Perhaps I may work miracles too; if only I have 
 faith enough! 
 
 Hunters — A miracle! (They crowd around 
 blessing themselves. Louis kisses the hem of Eliz- 
 abeth's robe.) 
 
 Louis — Beloved ! I am not worthy of thee. 
 
 Elizabeth — (Confused). Kneel not to me, but 
 to Heaven! (Joyously). It hath justified my ser- 
 vice to the poor! Oh, Louis, praise not me; to 
 God the glory! 'Tis no virtue of mine that work- 
 eth grace. 'Tis God's power, that in a heart wholly 
 given to him, soundeth sweet music, as a wind- 
 harp attuned to the fluttering breeze answers its 
 fluttering caress. 
 
 Kurt — (Gathering the roses with delight). 
 Madame! May I gather these roses from Heaven, 
 
28 THE DEAR SAINT ELIZABETH 
 
 and place them at the feet of Our Lady in the 
 Chapel? Roses from Heaven! (At a gesture from 
 Elizabeth he gathers them.) 
 
 Louis — Stay, Kurt. Give me one of Heaven's 
 roses to guard upon my heart as the emblem of 
 one as innocent and fair. May it keep my soul pure 
 when I am far away! (Sadly. Kurt gives him 
 the rose and runs to the castle, stopping ever and 
 anon to look at and kiss the roses). 
 
 Elizabeth — (Startled). What meanest thou? 
 Art thou going on a journey? 
 
 Louis — (Confused). Leave the poor but once 
 for thy poor husband, and let us talk together. Sit 
 here. (Two blasts are heard on the horn in the 
 distance; all listen; the signal sounds again; the 
 hunters start up, assume their hunting gear and run 
 out). 
 
 Louis — The hunters have run down their quar- 
 ry. (Interested). What luck today I wonder? 
 
 (Louis and Elizabeth alone. She leans her head 
 on his breast and he puts his arm around her). 
 
 Elizabeth — (Conscience stricken). Is it true, 
 Louis; do I neglect thee, dear heart? That 
 must not be. The husband must come first! (Coax- 
 ingly). How little are we together in the weary 
 routine of Court life! The poor envy us the empty 
 sparkle of our jewels, and we in return envy 
 them for what they do not prize. They never hear 
 aught but the truth, no flattery nor honeyed speeches 
 full of insincerity. And when they love (smiles up 
 at him), none come between to make mischief. 
 Dost know, Louis, I wish thou wert not Land- 
 grave at all, but just a poor simple shepherd with 
 a flock of sheep and tender little lambs! 
 
 Louis — ^And what of thee? 
 
 Elizabeth — (Gaily). Just thy little wife! Sing- 
 ing beside thee all day on the fragrant hillside! and 
 
THE DEAR SAINT ELIZABETH 29 
 
 at night I'd keep the fireside corner bright and 
 joyous when the storm raged without. None should 
 trouble our peace. Alas, 'tis but a dream! 
 
 Louis — Yet, beloved, there would be still those 
 who envied our happy lot, and counted our poverty 
 riches. 'Tis but a dream, and we must wake! 
 (Sadly). 
 
 Elizabeth — Yet the happy years have flown, 
 even here! Dost know, Louis, the secret of happi- 
 ness is love and content! With thee I am always 
 happy, and want nothing but Heaven. But wilt 
 thou always love me? 
 
 Louis — Surely. (He kisses her hand). 
 
 Elizabeth — ^Yet beauty fades and is gone ! See ! 
 (Takes the rose in her hand). 'Tis like this white 
 rose! Coming but now from Heaven, its snowy 
 petals droop already for the crystal water which is 
 its life. (Kisses the rose and gives it back to him). 
 
 Louis — I swear to thee, Elizabeth, that my heart 
 is a shrine where thou alone art enthroned. 'Tis a 
 mirror that reflects no image but thine own, nor 
 ever shall. (Takes a ring from his finger). See, 
 Elizabeth! Upon this golden band are graven three 
 short words that circle forever my affections. Read 
 them. 
 
 Elizabeth — ( Reading) . God ! Thuringia ! 
 Elizabeth! How beautiful! (Clasps her arms 
 around his neck). 
 
 Louis — Give it me again, and let us once more 
 plight that troth that scarce needs such renewal. I 
 promise thee to wear this little token always, and 
 should I be thought dead, believe no messenger, un- 
 less he bear again to thee this golden circlet. When 
 it leaves my hand, I shall breathe no more! (Eliza- 
 beth puts the ring on his finger. She looks sad 
 and agitated at his solemn words). 
 
30 THE DEAR SAINT ELIZABETH 
 
 Elizabeth — Oh, Louis, speak not of parting. 
 Yet should the token come thus again to my hand, 
 I should vow my life to Heaven! (Rises with 
 ardor). Yea, Louis! The husband and wife are 
 not twain, but one flesh ! The void made in my 
 heart by thy death shall be filled with God alone! 
 (Seats herself wearily and leans on his breast). 
 Clouds and an occasional distant peal of thunder. 
 The air is growing chill. Speak no more of death ; 
 it fills me with strange alarms. Let's talk of lighter 
 things. (Takes up his hunting pocket. He 
 snatches it from her in alarm). Why Louis, secrets, 
 after such vows of fidelity? Hide nothing from 
 me! I am curious now. Give it me! (Laughs 
 gaily. He allows her to take it but hides his face 
 in his hands; she is not looking at him, but opens 
 the pouch). Food for the falcon! He has gone 
 hungry today! A scourge! (Takes out a disci- 
 pline). Ah! Thou hidest thy devotions from me 
 least I augment mine own. (Laughs merrily). 
 
 Louis — (Ashamed). 'Tis but to discipline mine 
 too unruly nature, prone to evil. Alas! One must 
 bear arms against the foes within, as well as with- 
 out! 
 
 Elizabeth — (Takes out the Cross). What's 
 this? Stay! there is a word graven upon it! (Rises 
 in agitation). Jerusalem! The Holy Wars! Oh, 
 husband, leave me not! (She falls back fainting). 
 (Clouds gather and one or two distant peals of 
 thunder are heard. It passes). 
 
 Louis — (Reasoning with her). Beloved! I leave 
 thee only for a higher worship. Listen, Elizabeth! 
 I have sworn to defend the Holy Shrine; but my 
 vow binds me not without thy consent! This life 
 is thine, sworn to thy service at the holy altar. 
 'Tis thou, little maid, that hast taught me to 
 
THE DEAR SAINT ELIZABETH 31 
 
 live for noble things, and thine example hath led 
 ever higher. Remember! We have set our feet 
 upon a ladder that leadeth to the stars! Shall I 
 turn back? (Struggles with himself). Oh, strength- 
 en me! Mine own weak nature playeth me traitor! 
 
 Elizabeth — Oh Heaven; the day oi joy is 
 brief; 'tis already clouded! (In an agony she 
 conquers herself). Go! Louis! I were but a weak 
 wonian, an unworthy wife, to hold thee back. God 
 wills it! Oh, what is Faith if not a light in our 
 dark hours! God dwelleth still beyond the stars! 
 Love is not love if it chant not the royal hymn of 
 Sacrifice. (Suddenly fainting as if at a new 
 thought). But if thou art to fall upon the field. 
 (Shrieks and then kneels, sobbing at Louis' knees). 
 Oh, God, give me strength; courage! O, 
 thou of little faith! (Bravely, standing). 
 Louis, fear not! The storm has passed! If thou 
 shouldst fall upon the field, 'tis a noble death. And 
 if it be, I will live as the angels till we meet again 
 in the land where shadows come no more. Faith 
 lights the way! Let us be strong! 
 
 (Louis rises and puts his arm about her). 
 
 Louis — My saint! Thy words, like strengthen- 
 ing cordial, animate my soul. Come! Let us talk 
 of the little ones. We will return together. The 
 day wanes, and we can talk as we go. (They go 
 up together along the rough paths of the Castle, 
 talking, his arm around her. The horns sound again 
 joyously. The Huntsmen return with a boar over 
 their shoulder, and game, etc. The storm has 
 passed and the sunset is golden and bright). 
 
 First Hunter — 'Twas fine sport! Yet we lost 
 the better beast ! Pest ! That my hand should have 
 chanced such a careless shot. 
 
 Second Hunter — 'Twas my fault, I suppose. I 
 
32 THE DEAR SAINT ELIZABETH 
 
 nudged thee too soon. 'Tis strange, the quarry that 
 escapes is always the bigger animal! (Laughs bois- 
 terously). 'Tis luck! Pest! I am hungry as a 
 Hunter. I could eat a haunch of venison! 
 
 First Hunter — In good time then! See! The 
 white flag flieth from the Castle. Let us hasten, 
 'tis close upon the hour. (They go up to- 
 wards the Castle as the Angelus chimes out from 
 the tower. They take off their hats and remain 
 motionless). 
 
 (Curtain). 
 
THE DEAR SAINT ELIZABETH 33 
 Act II. Scene 2 
 
 The Valley of Lilies (beyond the city). 
 
 Three months later. 
 
 A large cross stands at the parting of the ways. 
 In the distance snowy peaks along the horizon. The 
 foreground is at first in sunlight. Later the light 
 shifts until the foreground is in twilight, while the 
 setting sun shines on the hills beyond. 
 
 Conrad with Louis stands on an eminence review- 
 mg the troops. Elizabeth is praying at the foot of 
 the cross with her little children. The Crusaders 
 pass in relays with banners flying, singing at inter- 
 vals the Crusader's hymn. As one detachment pass- 
 es, singing, the refrain comes faintly back from 
 those who have gone before. The manliness, pur- 
 pose and simplicity of the Crusaders is contrasted 
 with the effeminate luxury of the Court. A crowd 
 of Courtiers, ladies and peasants all mingle togeth- 
 er. Pathetic partings from wives, children and 
 sweethearts, scarfs and banners waving. 
 
 The orchestra supplies the music, martial and 
 strong, interpreting the motives of the Act. 
 
 Crusader's Hymn 
 
 On ! to the Holy Wars ! 
 
 Our hearts are sighing. 
 
 See on the heights afar. 
 
 Our banners flying! 
 
 The Pagan's hordes we'll slay. 
 
 And none shall bar our way! 
 
 God wills it! He wills it! 
 
 (Minor key) 
 The Cross shall go before, 
 'Tis brightly shining! 
 
34 THE DEAR SAINT ELIZABETH 
 
 The Cross be all our store, 
 In death repining! 
 We'll guard it to the end, 
 And Heaven its aid will lend. 
 God wills it! He wills it! 
 
 Conrad — (To Hugo, who stands hesitating). 
 Come, my son ! Redeem thy careless youth with 
 noble service. 'Tis not yet too late! 
 
 Hugo — Almost I am persuaded! This great 
 army, so full of purpose, shameth weakness! (Re- 
 luctantly). And yet! To break all ties, to fare so 
 hardly 
 
 Agnes — Go, Hugo! I bid thee, and will myself 
 gird on thy sword! (She takes a sword from a by- 
 stander, and gives it to Hugo. He kisses her hand, 
 kneeling, and rising waves it valiantly). 
 
 Hugo — For such a cause and such a winsome 
 maid, a man might face the world ! 
 
 Maida — Stay, Hugo. Think! Who so would 
 choose the cross, must war with nature and 
 deny himself. To fast and faint; to sleep on stony 
 ground ! 'Tis sorry comfort to a man like thee, 
 who sleep'st on roses! (Laughs). 
 
 Agnes — (Coming forward). Hugo, believe her 
 not! The soldier of the cross is armed with grace 
 to fight the foes within, and laughs at hardships! 
 
 Hugo — (He lets the sword fall with its point 
 to the ground and leans upon it). I fain would go, 
 yet still a thousand ties do bind me here; a web of 
 silken threads, yet forged like steel. (Excusing 
 himself to Agnes). Sweet Maid! I go! (irreso- 
 lutely). But, stay! There is no haste. I'll join 
 them later, what's my way is clear. My health, 
 alas, is weak; and business sore doth press. — 
 
 Gypsy — (Coming forward and interrupting him. 
 
THE DEAR SAINT ELIZABETH 35 
 
 She takes hold of his cloak and tries to turn his 
 gaze away from Agnes and the Crusaders). Nay, 
 Hugo, not like this, thou'lt scape the lure of beauty! 
 Thou art young. And all youth's current, in swift 
 crimson tide doth surge to pleasure! Lead the 
 dance with me. (She dances a few graceful steps). 
 (Impatiently). The music waits; sweet perfumes 
 sway the sense. Come silly fool! The things of 
 sense are real! Not so the joys above, that lure 
 thee on with visions! (Laughs contemptuously, 
 and draws him gradually with her aside to the 
 rear. He looks, pitifully back, but by degrees turns 
 with her, and drops the sword, which falls clatter- 
 ing to the ground). 
 
 Agnes — (Turning scornfully). Shame on thy 
 craven soul! Thou servest not God, but Caesar! 
 (Hugo is jeered by the crowd and pushed to the 
 rear). 
 
 Conrad — Said I not so? He that is governed 
 by sense is ever a weakling when he would conquer 
 it! 
 
 (To Louis) — Delay not! The shadows gather! 
 (As Louis descends and approaches Elizabeth, 
 the Crusaders pass again singing.) 
 
 Crusaders — Then come ye Christians here 
 When duty calleth ! 
 And know no craven fear 
 Whate'er befalleth! 
 For Christ will be our stay ; 
 He leadeth all the way! 
 God wills it! He wills it! 
 (Refrain comes back faintly 
 God wills it! He wills it! 
 Louis — (To Elizabeth, who rises and stands 
 with her little children clinging to her skirts). 
 Dearest, farewell! Be brave! Be strong! And 
 
36 THE DEAR SAINT ELIZABETH 
 
 lead my people! God wills it! 
 
 (Elizabeth lays her head on his breast, weeping. 
 His children embrace him.) 
 
 Elizabeth — (Clinging to him). I cannot let 
 thee go! Let me walk but a little farther on the 
 way. 
 
 (They walk a little farther and there is another 
 agonized parting. He disengages her arms). 
 
 Louis — Dearest, I cannot stay! And thou hast 
 already come a long day's journey. 
 
 Elizabeth — Beloved! How shall I live with- 
 out thee! And my little ones! Without a father's 
 love! 
 
 Louis — 'Tis not forever! And if it were, death 
 cannot quench a love so true, so steadfast. (Points 
 to the heights beyond, as if inspired). See, beloved. 
 How the sun doth light the hills beyond with glory! 
 Oh ! let me go ! 'Tis God we serve. Remember. 
 (Tears himself from her and mounts his horse 
 which Walter of Varila has been holding. The 
 Crusaders sing the last verse, in minor key). 
 
 Crusaders — Oh! look above and see 
 The city holy! 
 Jerusalem, for thee 
 We combat solely! 
 From heavenly ramparts there, 
 Shall float our banners fair! 
 God wills it ! He wills it ! 
 
 (The sunset becomes brilliant. Conrad descends 
 and joins Louis, mounting his horse. Elizabeth, 
 who has been kneeling, rises and stands by the cross. 
 Louis addresses his people). 
 
 Louis — My people, swear to me fidelity to her I 
 love! 
 
 People — We swear it! 
 
 Louis — (To Walter). My tried friend, I leave all 
 
THE DEAR SAINT ELIZABETH 37 
 
 powers in thy hand. (Whispering). Guard my in- 
 terests and hers. I cannot trust my brothers, should 
 I be long away. Alas ! The thirst for gold ! 
 
 Walter — (Walter kneels and kisses his hand 
 and swears). I will guard them with my life. 
 
 Louis — (To Elizabeth). Farewell, we meet in 
 prayer ! 
 
 Elizabeth — (Standing majestically and point- 
 ing to the glory beyond). Go! my husband, think 
 not of me! God wills it! 
 
 (They ride away as the Crusaders' last verse 
 comes faintly back repeated. The people sink on 
 their knees weeping and praying). 
 
 Orchestra martial music. 
 
 ( Curtain ) . 
 
38 THE DEAR SAINT ELIZABETH 
 Act III. Scene i 
 A Year Later 
 
 The orchestral prelude to this act introduces the 
 atmosphere of the court life, 
 
 Great Hall in the Castle. Dais and canopy at 
 one end. Open gates leading into Park. Elizabeth 
 spinning. Ladies of Honor busily occupied in fold- 
 ing and making clothes for the poor and arranging 
 food on a long table. Her little children assisting 
 and waiting on the poor in imitation of their mother. 
 
 Elizabeth — Ladies! What joy to see ye all 
 so busy, and with such tasks! Believe me, friends, 
 the lives of worldings leave no trace. Footprints on 
 sand, which Time's resistless wave, in one brief 
 moment, blotteth out forever! Let us live better! 
 While ye yet live, build for yourselves in sufifering 
 hearts a shrine. Then memory'U do ye honor. This 
 our brief day a golden age we'll make, and lift our 
 men, and women too, to nobler service! 
 
 GuTA — Lady ! Thou hast conquered me such as 
 I am! Henceforth I'd rather garner souls than 
 jewels! 
 
 Agnes — (Enters gaily attired for a fete). Sis- 
 ter, sister! Always at tiresome service! Can I not 
 lure thee to some little pleasure? Other wives 
 mourn not as thee, when husbands play the truant. 
 An hour spent in pleasant dalliance would pass with- 
 out much harm. Be dull in reason ! 
 
 Elizabeth — Agnes, the primrose path of dal- 
 liance skirteth the void of Hell ! Such women haz- 
 ard virtue as men do gold at play, little by little, 
 and hunger in time for innocence. The true wife 
 owneth but one mate and like the dove, doth mourn 
 him ever 1 
 
THE DEAR SAINT ELIZABETH 39 
 
 (Elizabeth leaves her spinning to embrace Agnes. 
 Takes her face in her hands and looks into her 
 eyes). But whither now? And whom dost fancy? 
 Of lovers many? 
 
 Agnes — (Ashamed, turns her face away sad- 
 ly). None perhaps! Oft have I heard within a 
 still, small voice that speakth louder now: *'My 
 child, give Me thy heart!" I fain would live like 
 thee, a holy life. And still I dare not, so outface the 
 world! 'Twould waken blushes. To set myself 
 upon a pedestal for men to scoff at ! 
 
 Elizabeth — Dare to do right! So place thy- 
 self, upon the pedestal of honor, whence Virtue once 
 held sway! 'Tis woman's place — Creation's mas- 
 terpiece ! And if men scoff, remain. In time they'll 
 worship. Is Virtue then so rare that men do scofi 
 at it? 
 
 (Agnes hides her face. Some of the ladies have 
 quietly withdrawn, tossing their heads, others 
 ashamed ) . 
 
 GuTA — Chance arrows these! Yet do they hit 
 the mark! 
 
 Walter — (Entering, crosses himself). What's 
 this? A queen spinning? Madame, you surprise 
 me! 
 
 Elizabeth — (Laughing gaily). Chide not, 
 good Walter. Idleness is out of fashion! 'Tis a 
 pretty task, so fair and graceful ! ( She spins a 
 thread). We but restore lost arts, like mine good 
 husband whose minstrels charm us. Nay, I'll tell 
 to thee, a precious secret. (Whispers to him). In- 
 dustry was guardian angel once of woman's honor! 
 (Aloud). The hours are uncut jewels! valueless 
 until our labor sets to work and cuts them. Then 
 do they shine to Heaven! 
 
 (Clamor at the gate): Oh give us bread! 
 
40 THE DEAR SAINT ELIZABETH 
 
 Bread! We hunger sore! 
 
 (The poor troop in. They are pale and ex- 
 hausted. Hugo is among them dressed in rags. His 
 pockets hang out, empty, and he has been drink- 
 ing. The ladies go about giving out clothing and 
 food. The little children run to Elizabeth and 
 cling fondly to her skirts. She takes them in her 
 arms) . 
 
 Elizabeth — Poor little lambs! Your eyes are 
 full of tears. 'Tis a bitter thing, the tears of child- 
 hood! Isentrude, give them warm milk and clothe 
 them prettily, and send them joyous home! 
 
 (Isentrude feeds them. They seat themselves 
 on the ground, gnawing hungrily at the bread). 
 
 First Beggar — (At the board). The broth's 
 not salted! 
 
 Elizabeth — I'll salt it then, and thee, with wis- 
 dom! (Laughs and salts broth). 
 
 Second Beggar — (Rising). I hate thee! And 
 thine! And all the rich! that dwell mid plenty, 
 while we starve on their dole. 
 
 GuTA — Rather, thou would'st have starved with- 
 out it! (All cry "Shame! Out with him!") 
 
 Elizabeth — 'Tis nothing new! to reap ingrati- 
 tude where one hath kindness shown. How oft 
 we grumble when God favors us! Yet God doth 
 pardon. Let him be! And I'll turn hate to love! 
 
 Elizabeth — (She puts a warm cloak about 
 him). See! A queen doth wait upon thee! Art 
 content? (Smiles upon him). 
 
 Beggar — (Wrapping it about him, kneels and 
 kisses her hand ashamed) : Pardon, lady! 'Twas 
 not hate that spoke, but misery! 
 
 GuTA — The secret's found ! 'Tis love that con- 
 quers hate. 
 
 Agnes — (To Hugo). Hast come to this? Oh! 
 
THE DEAR SAINT ELIZABETH 41 
 
 let my pity move thee to do better. Eat, and be 
 strengthened! Be once more a man, and master 
 of thyself! 
 
 Hugo — (Shivers and bursts into tears). So 
 Conrad spoke ! Oh ! to have heeded him ! But 
 now, — too late! Too late! 
 
 Agnes — 'Tis not too late indeed, try but again! 
 I'll help thee! 
 
 Hugo — (Rises, but sinks down once more, puts 
 his head on his arms and sleeps noisily). 
 
 Agnes — (Weeping, shakes her head and turns 
 away). It is indeed too late! Oh! sorry fate, of 
 one I might have loved ! 
 
 Beggar Woman — (To Elizabeth). Oh! Ma- 
 dame! I am weary of life, cursed as I am with 
 children. No food, and many mouths to feed ! And 
 still another babe! 
 
 Elizabeth — Friend, speak not thus wickedly! 
 Children a curse! Oh no. A precious blessing! 
 God will provide, e'en though his rod chastise. 
 Motherhood! (With an exalted look, as if raised 
 to ecstasy, then rapturously). Woman! the dear 
 God doth need thee. His creature! to people 
 Heaven with angels! And every woman that doth 
 generate becomes, with God, creator of a soul ! How 
 marvellous a mission! Worth some pain! And 
 then the children's prattle, 'tis so sweet; their 
 little clinging arms, their soft caresses, do stifle mis- 
 ery and hinder tears! 
 
 (Prophecies). The babe that thou dost curse 
 will be a man, and keep thee when thou art old! 
 Oh! praise God, then, and trust Him! 
 
 Beggar — (Smiling). Thou makest the sun to 
 shine, sweet lady! I'll heed thee! 
 
 Walter — Hence now, ye beggars, since ye're sat- 
 isfied; until to-morrow! (They curtesy and go 
 
42 THE DEAR SAINT ELIZABETH 
 
 out. Night falls and gates are closed). 
 
 (All exit but Walter and Elizabeth). 
 
 Walter — My dearest lady, thou'rt too gen- 
 erous! There is murmuring among thy ministers 
 and even threats. Thou wilt, I fear, in times like 
 these, impoverish us with charity. And 'tis even 
 said they'll turn against thee! Have a care, I say! 
 
 Elizabeth — My Louis said: "Let her give 
 what she will, if she leave me but Warburg and 
 Eisenach!" I'll not forget (laughing). Nay, never 
 fear ! Give with both hands, and God will still fling 
 back unto thee fuller measure! 
 
 Walter — Two minstrels of renown — whom 
 well ye know, Thibault and Henry, — have but late- 
 ly come! Shall I not bid them here, to charm our 
 ears, with music? 
 
 Elizabeth — (Clapping her hands with delight). 
 What! the great Thibault of Champagne here? 
 And Henry Van Ofterdingen? Oh! call the la- 
 dies! Haste! and Courtiers all! We'll cultivate 
 the arts my husband loved, and have a tournament, 
 with bards and minstrels. Call me when 'tis time. 
 (Exit). 
 
 Walter — (Sadly). Would that I dared to tell 
 thee all the news! The storm is gathering, in a 
 moment more, 'twill burst upon thy head. (Goes 
 out shaking his head). Servants remove tables, 
 spread rugs, bring in musical instruments, etc. 
 Courtiers and ladies of honor enter and group them- 
 selves. Guta and Isentrude together. (All in fes- 
 tive dress). 
 
 Guta — (To Isentrude). Have ye heard the 
 news? Heaven grant it be a rumor and not true! 
 The landgrave's dead! 
 
 Isentrude — Oh! No! It cannot be! Who 
 saith it? 
 
THE DEAR SAINT ELIZABETH 43 
 
 GuTA — Some wandering pilgrims. Yet it is not 
 all! They say as well that Henry, Louis' brother, 
 doth haste to claim his throne ! 
 
 IsENTRUDE — Say nothing yet to spoil the feast. 
 I can't believe such tales! They can't be true. 
 
 (Enter Walter and Elizabeth. He escorts her 
 to her throne. Agnes and Guta sit beside her. 
 Minstrels enter and take places opposite each other. 
 They kneel to Elizabeth). 
 
 Elizabeth — Make us good music, merry gen- 
 tlemen, and poetry! Sweet sister arts! 
 
 Thibault — Madame, Fm not so young as when 
 we sang in Landgrave Herman's time! Father of 
 your good husband. 'Tis twenty years, it seems! 
 Why, minstrels gathered here from every part, and 
 sang in unison. A contest 'twas and there the Hang- 
 man stood (points), in robe of scarlet, the rope upon 
 his arm. (Laughs). To hang the culprit who sang 
 not with art, or naughtily. (Laughs). A goodly 
 fashion! 'Twere well they did so now! Come, 
 Henry, sing thou first. Thou had'st the prize. 
 
 Henry — (Bows to Agnes who is surrounded 
 by courtiers). I sing of love, a fashion ever pleas- 
 ant! (Sings to harp and violin a chanson. Ap- 
 plause). 
 
 Henry's Song 
 
 Quand le rossignol joli 
 Chante sur le fleur d'ete; 
 Que nait le rose et le lys, 
 Et la rosee dee vert pre. 
 Pleine de bonne voloute 
 Chanterai comme fins amis. 
 Mais autant, suis ebahie 
 Que j'ai si haut pensee. 
 
44 THE DEAR SAINT ELIZABETH 
 
 Q'ua peine iert accompli 
 Le service dout j 'attends gre 
 
 (Chatelain de Coucy, 1200). 
 (Echos du Temps Pass), J. B. Wekerlin, Vol. 3. 
 
 (A chanson by Thibault of Champagne **Ni 
 bon temps, ni la gelee;" to the same metre, words and 
 music to be found in Vol. i, of the same collection). 
 
 Thibault — And I of love more true, the love 
 of Heaven! An ancient ballad full of sweetness. 
 
 (Sings). 
 
 Endorme est la perillee 
 Mais notre Dame est eveillee. 
 Oncques ne fut la glorieuse 
 Ni sommeillant, ni pareceuse. 
 Et nuit et joz 'la Virge monde, 
 En esveil est por tot li monde 
 S'ele dormait une seule hore 
 Toz li monz ce desous desore 
 Trebucherait pos les meffetz 
 Que non fezons on avons fez. 
 
 Translation 
 
 A child sleeps on, though danger's near, 
 But Mary watches, have no fear ! 
 No sleep, no rest, that Mother takes 
 Till, danger gone, the child awakes ! 
 Thus, night and day, the Virgin pure 
 O'er all the world keeps guard secure 
 For should that blessed vigil fail 
 Then naught on earth could e'er prevail, 
 To stem the woes that would ensue. 
 For wrongs weVe done, for wrongs we do ! 
 
THE DEAR SAINT ELIZABETH 45 
 
 Elizabeth — Thibault! Thine is the palm, 
 though thou art the elder! For Heaven's love is 
 greater still than man's. 
 
 (There is a stir about the door and people lis- 
 tening, look alarmed as Sophie rushes in, speaking 
 hysterically). 
 
 Sophie — Oh! Woe upon us all! The land- 
 grave's dead ! My son, my son ! 
 
 Elizabeth — Rising and turning pale). My 
 Louis! (She says no more, but wavers while Guta 
 and Agnes sustain her). Nay, Mother, 'tis not 
 true! I'll not believe it. They bring no token! 
 
 (To the minstrels. Go, bards! Until a happier 
 day, since rumors are abroad. 
 
 (They go out shaking their heads. Sophie faints. 
 Conrad of Marburg enters dressed as a pilgrim. 
 Elizabeth leaves her throne and rushes to his feet 
 kneeling). Oh tell me! (in an agony). Is he 
 dead? 
 
 Conrad — Alas, 'tis true! He sent thee this to 
 prove it ! 
 
 (Gives the ring. Elizabeth takes it with a vacant 
 look, puts it on her finger and suddenly, as one 
 mad, rushes about and throws herself about the 
 wall, clinging to it. Sophie revives, Agnes sustain- 
 ing her). 
 
 Agnes — (To Guta). Go to her (looking to- 
 wards Elizabeth). Her grief is more than ours. 
 Oh! comfort her. Else she'll go mad! (Ladies 
 approach Elizabeth and loosen her grasp. She puts 
 her arm around Guta and weeps). 
 
 Guta — See! At last she weeps! Oh, saving 
 shower! Her reason's safe! 
 
 Conrad — (Approaching). Lady, God wills it! 
 See, she's calmer now! (She approaches, silently 
 wringing her hands, and looking pitifully to 
 
46 THE DEAR SAINT ELIZABETH 
 
 Heaven). 
 
 Conrad — Come, let me tell thee of his last hours ! 
 
 Elizabeth — Oh! tell me, e'er I die!* The world 
 and all its joys is dead to me! (She sinks to her 
 knees as he lays his hand on her head and looks up 
 into Conrad's face). 
 
 Conrad — Thou must not die, but live! Poor 
 child! Thy husband sank with fever, e'er he did 
 reach the goal. But oh, so patient. So content! 
 with gaze so steadfast fixed upon the glowing hills! 
 He did forget all things but those of Heaven. E'en 
 thee whom most he loved! "Oh! see!" he said, "A 
 flight of doves, like angels! swift speeding towards 
 the East." He turned and smiled. ''They wait," 
 he said, "for me, and I must follow!" And so he 
 slept and woke not. (The wind rises outside min- 
 gled with soft harps cadences, which are heard at 
 intervals. 
 
 Elizabeth — (Elizabeth rises, full of ardor). 
 Then take my solemn vow, a pact with Heaven! 
 I'll love no mortal more! But as the angels, live 
 ever unto Christ, and Him alone! (Looking up 
 in an ecstasy). 
 
 Conrad — (Blessing her). 'Tiswell! And yet! 
 Thou'rt young and fair! Be not too hasty. Thou 
 may'st love again. And queens must live for 
 those about them. 
 
 Elizabeth — Oh! be not traitor to him! I 
 swear, I'll love but God! and that until I die! 
 (Conrad blesses her again). 
 
 Conrad — The peace of God shall comfort. 
 (Listening; sounds of a mob outside the gates with 
 loud knocking). Hark! What's that? 
 
 Henry — Open! Open! I say! 
 
 *Her own words. 
 
THE DEAR SAINT ELIZABETH 47 
 
 Walter — Who's here? (In amazement). 'Tis 
 as I feared! Henry! (Opens gate). 
 
 Henry — The rightful master of all here! I 
 claim my brother's throne ! (Courtiers resist. Wal- 
 ter faces him). 
 
 Walter — Would'st force us? 'Tis false! I 
 guard my lady and her son! who here doth rule! 
 
 Henry — The child is yet too young! And she's 
 too pious. The people murmur. She ruineth the 
 land with lavish favors. They'll side with me, as 
 doth my mother here. (Sophie stands beside him 
 Elizabeth stands transfixed with sorrow, her ladies 
 and Agnes supporting her. The people rush in and 
 cry) : 
 
 People — Long live the landgrave Henry! 
 
 Walter — (Approaching with courtiers who fight 
 and are overcome). I'll give my life to guard 
 them! 
 
 Henry — Seize him and take him hence. (They 
 bind him struggling and take him out. Storm rises. 
 Turns to Elizabeth). 
 
 Now Madame, get thee gone! At once! To- 
 night! 
 
 Elizabeth — (In amazement). Oh speak not 
 thus to me, a queen in sorrow! Thou art a 
 man! And I a poor weak woman! Work then 
 thy will; but let me have my children! 'Tis all 
 I ask of all the wealth I own. 
 
 Henry — I'll guard them here in safety! Get 
 thee gone! 
 
 Elizabeth — Oh, God! (Pleads with him). 
 But let me stay tonight! The storm is raging! Let 
 me but rest, until its course is spent. 
 
 Henry — (Conferring with his friends). Day- 
 light brings changes and a force doth gather! 
 
 (To Elizabeth). Go now! At once, and with 
 
48 THE DEAR SAINT ELIZABETH 
 
 one single woman. 
 
 Agnes — ^Uncle, have pity! Hark! The storm 
 doth rage! There's death upon its wings! 
 
 Henry — (To Agnes). Silence! 
 
 Agnes — Oh, sister then, I'll join thee! (She 
 clings to Elizabeth and stands before her as if to 
 protect her). 
 
 Henry — (To Agnes). Thou shalt not. (Pushes 
 her aside). 
 
 (Storm of wind and snow outside. Winds howl 
 around). 
 
 Elizabeth — (Proudly). I am a princess! And 
 my blood is royal! What if thou wrest my lands 
 and kill the body! My Soul, thou shalt not crush! 
 Oh! cruel brother! And mother! Who abets him! 
 (Turning to Sophie and pleading with tears). 
 (Proudly). Ye have not conquered! I am still 
 a queen ! 
 
 (Her ladies put a cloak around her). 
 
 GuTA — Come Lady! (To Henry). Stay! her 
 jewels! 
 
 Henry — They are Sophie's! (Pushes back So- 
 phie who relents). Nay woman — get thee gone 
 without delay. 
 
 Elizabeth — Come Guta. (Standing in the 
 doorway with hands crossed on her bosom). Oh 
 guardians blest, God's angels, pity us! And guide 
 our steps to shelter! 
 
 (Harps sound again in the intervals of the stormy 
 wind). 
 
 (To Henry and Sophie). Heaven is pitiful, if ye 
 are stone! To Heaven do I commend me! (A 
 light shines around her head. They are pushed out 
 into the snowstorm and doors are closed, Henr)' 
 standing with his back against the door). 
 
 Henry — Now are we rid of her. 
 
THE DEAR SAINT ELIZABETH 49 
 
 Conrad — Alas! what piteous grief! The sculp- 
 tor's hand doth free with ruthless blows the pri- 
 soned angel. Kind Heaven, with hurts like these, 
 doth shape a saint! 
 
 Curtain. 
 
50 THE DEAR SAINT ELIZABETH 
 
 Acts III. Scene 2 
 
 No Musical Prelude 
 
 Scene same as in Act 2, Scene i. (Lights in 
 the Castle). Elizabeth descending path with Guta 
 in a storm of wind and snow. A light shines about 
 her head, and between the sighing wind is heard 
 soft harp and violin music and angel voices. 
 
 Elizabeth — Oh! Guta! Friend, was ever sor- 
 row like to mine? Heaven guide our steps to shel- 
 ter! Hark! I hear a sound like harps of angels! 
 Dost thou not? 
 
 Guta — (Listens and shakes her head). My 
 lady! 'tis I fear, the sobbing wind alone! Naught 
 else! Alas, 'tis bitter cold! Oh! madame, I am 
 wroth at those who treat ye so. 
 
 Elizabeth — (Nobly). Yet still we must for- 
 give! as we would be forgiven! 
 
 (They approach a convent and knock several 
 times). 
 
 Guta — They are at prayers, no doubt! (A 
 Brother opens the door). 
 
 Brother — Who's there? 
 
 Elizabeth — She who was once thy Queen. 
 
 Brother — Alas! madam! 'Tis Henry rules, and 
 he hath given strict orders that none shall shelter 
 thee! So we must needs obey. Good-night! (The 
 De Profundis is intoned in the convent: 
 
 "De Profundis clamavi ad te Domine 
 Domine exaude vocem meum. 
 Si Iniquitates observaveris Domine 
 Domine, quis sustinebit?") 
 
 Elizabeth — Oh, let us in, good soul! In tru- 
 
THE DEAR SAINT ELIZABETH 51 
 
 est pity! The Hospital I built? Is there no room? 
 No pallet rude of straw, where we may rest us ? 
 
 Brother — 'Tis full to-night of sick and suffer- 
 ing. Try further on! And now, good-night once 
 more. 
 
 (Singing within. He closes door). 
 
 Sustinuit anima mea In verbo ejus; 
 Speravit anima in Domino 
 A custodia matutlna usque ad noctem — 
 Speret Israel in Domino. 
 
 Elizabeth — Oh! blessed words — they sink Into 
 my soul! Lord! I'll not fail thee, though faith sore 
 be tried ! 
 
 (They knock at a poor hut. A light appears 
 within. A testy peasant woman puts her head out 
 of the window). 
 
 Peasant — Ye woke me from my sleep! Go on 
 your way ! I have no room ! Begone into the night ! 
 (Slams down the window and light goes out). 
 
 Elizabeth — Once I did feed her! Now she 
 knows me not! (To Guta). There's one sweet 
 refuge left that's ne'er denied. 
 
 Guta — ^The Church! why yes! At least 'twill 
 ope at dawn. 
 
 (They seat themselves on the steps of the church 
 as a lady and courtiers pass returning from a ball). 
 
 Courtier — (Recognizing Elizabeth. To the 
 lady). 'Tis the sorry end of prayers and visions. 
 Castles in the air, built upon gossamer, that like 
 a bubble vanish! (Laughs). 
 
 Lady — Serves her right! To dare to preach to 
 us! We who love pleasure show the better sense. 
 The rest is moonshine! (Laughs merrily). 
 
52 THE DEAR SAINT ELIZABETH 
 
 Elizabeth — (To Guta). These were once my 
 friends ! 
 
 Guta — Then the saying's true, — Put not your 
 trust in Princes. (Bitterly). Nor in friends! 
 
 Elizabeth — Oh, Guta dear! When troubles 
 were but small, I thought them great and mur- 
 mured! Now my grief's a sea, that drowneth 
 words. How many a little maid with years like 
 mine doth call herself a child! I'm only twenty! 
 Springtime of life! Yet see! In one brief hour, 
 the seasons four have passed. (Weeps silently). 
 
 Guta — (Aside). Alas! how true! 
 
 Elizabeth — 'Twas at this very altar! in sun- 
 shine and in song, I plighted troth! And here I 
 weep alone. Despoiled of all at once, husband, 
 and lands, and children ! O! but 'tis bitter! (Mus- 
 ing). Perchance when all is gone, there cometh 
 peace ! 
 
 Guta — Did'st never hear, my lady, of that good 
 merchant who went, seeking pearls? And when he 
 found a gem more radiant far than all the rest, he 
 sold his all to buy it? 
 
 Elizabeth — Oh ! Guta, 'tis my story ! The love 
 of God's a Pearl of rainbow beauty! Born of 
 precious tears! 'Twas He who gave, and now His 
 gracious hand hath taken back to give a better gift. 
 One worth them all ! Our earthly loves are fetters, 
 that in a fowler's net the soul do prison. 'Tis God 
 doth set us free. Let us then thank Him. Oh, 
 soar to Heaven, my soul, thine All is there I 
 
 Guta — (Shivers). 'Tis bitter cold! And dawn 
 is yet far! Dost think the Church will open? 
 
 Elizabeth — (Sheltering her). Poor Sister! 
 Let me warm thee ! with love at least. 
 
 Guta — Lady! Thy very touch doth set my 
 veins on fire! 'Tis charity. 
 
THE DEAR SAINT ELIZABETH 53 
 
 Elizabeth — My little ones at least are safe and 
 warm! 'Tis some small comfort. Guta! long ago 
 I prayed, a joyous maid, at that poor shrine (points 
 to shrine) to share Christ's sorrows. Now I know 
 them all and find, in Him, a Friend! Hark, 'tis 
 the sound again of Angel voices! (Soft music and 
 voices). (Angels sing: "Oh! Happy soul! To 
 mourn with Christ! for He shall comfort Thee!") 
 
 Guta — See! At last the flush of dawn! Oh 
 what a piteous day! (Weeps. Lights go out in 
 the castle, and the dawn comes slowly. Matins are 
 sung in the monastery). 
 
 (The Church within is lighted dimly. Eliza- 
 beth rises and knocks. They listen. The Sacris- 
 tan opens the door a little). 
 
 Sacristan — ^What's this? My lady! Here! 
 
 Elizabeth — Oh, man! let me go in and lay my 
 burden down at Jesus' feet. His heart alone doth 
 wake and pity, though the world be stone! Oh, 
 Vestal Light, thou keepest watch within! where 
 dwells the Love that sleeps not! (Ardently to Sa- 
 cristan). Let me in! 
 
 Sacristan — Surely, surely, poor soul! (Opens 
 the door fully). (Weeps). My old heart pities 
 thee. I'll get thee food. Rest here by day, and 
 when night comes once more, I'll shelter find. I'll 
 lodge me somewhere else, and give thee mine. 'Tis 
 but a sorry hut, a bed of straw! Yet One above 
 such shelter owned. (Lifts his cap). *Twas all 
 the vile earth gave Him. 
 
 Elizabeth — There shall I then find ample com- 
 fort! (Gives money). Thanks, poor man! God 
 will requite thee if my purse be small. 
 
 (Enters church which is suddenly lighted up 
 brightly. The Sacristan stands in wonder. Soft 
 harp music). 
 
54 THE DEAR SAINT ELIZABETH 
 
 Sacristan — (Falls on his knees). 'Twas an 
 Angel passed! (Looking in while angels chant: 
 in a burst of celestial music that seems to come from 
 above). 
 
THE DEAR SAINT ELIZABETH 55 
 Act IV. Scene i 
 Three Years Later 
 
 (Orchestral prelude is a contrast to the pathos of 
 the last scence. Begins gaily with old classical 
 airs, grows tender and sweet as curtain rises). 
 
 A street in Marburg with open square at back. 
 Elizabeth's poor house at left. Enter a Beggar, 
 with Hugo, dressed also in beggar's garb. 
 
 Beggar — 'Tis almost the hour, when she doth 
 pass. The Lady Elizabeth! Would'st though see 
 her? It will do thee good. (Slaps him on the 
 back). For she doth scatter blessings along the 
 way, as rich men gold. A queen she was, just think! 
 And yet so humble ! Far more than we, who spring 
 from nothing. She giveth to the poor her very rai- 
 ment, and doth fast herself when food is scarce for 
 both. There's magic in her touch, and they do tell 
 of cures worked by her presence! Little wonder! 
 for her smile is joy, and cheers like sunshine. 
 
 Hugo — I'd fain see her! Not to beg food, 
 nor coin. The hurt's within me! Can she, think 
 you, cure hurts like those of sin? 
 
 Beggar — I doubt not! Ask her prayers, for true 
 repentance. (Reverently). Were there Saints on 
 earth, then were they such as she! 
 
 Hugo — I knew her at the Court, a beauteous 
 lady; whose virtue men did laugh to scorn! 
 
 Beggar — ^You! at the Court. (Laughs). Oh, 
 Man! You make me merry. Tell not such a 
 tale! It lacks too much of wisdom. Wast thou 
 cook perhaps, or scullion? (Laughs). At court, 
 Ha, ha, ha! 
 
 Hugo — (Angrily). Silence, knave! A better 
 man than thee! though I'm an outcast now I (Sighs 
 
56 THE DEAR SAINT ELIZABETH 
 
 despairingly). 
 
 Beggar — Well, man, let It go! Only you don't 
 look like It! (Laughs seriously). But she, my 
 lady here, hath little comfort. Good master Con- 
 rad, whose penitent she is, doth long direct her. 
 And since she hath no sins, or very few, to conquer, 
 he tries her with denials, with penances, and dearth 
 of comfort. All to make a saint! 
 
 Hugo — Her ladles, Guta and Isentrude, are with 
 her still ? 
 
 Beggar — Indeed, not so! Conrad did send them 
 back. Because she loved them, and did comfort 
 find In them at least. ''Her heart," he said, "should 
 cling to nothing earthly! On the cross alone its 
 tendrils twine, and bloom in Heaven!" And then! 
 She joyed in giving. Even this, the last delight! 
 he did forbid. "She must give up her will! The 
 more of Self," he said, In what we do, "the less of 
 Heaven." 
 
 Hugo — And It is true! Oh, had I learned the 
 lesson, that Conrad taught in years long past! To 
 curb my will! I were not now like this! 
 
 Beggar — And poverty! She sold her robes to 
 clothe us and for herself keeps nothing, sleeps on 
 straw, and recks not comfort. So poor she is that 
 Brother Francis of Asslsl there, hath sent to her his 
 mantle. Though but a sorry cloak, all patched and 
 worn, it warmed a heart that knows a Seraph's fire! 
 A precious gift! Thus did he esteem this little 
 lady! Hush, here she comes In prayer. 
 
 (Elizabeth approaches in simple dress, praying; a 
 light around her head; and a joyous uplifted 
 look). 
 
 Beggar — (To Hugo). Speak to her! 
 
 Hugo — 'Twere a sin, to mar such peace with 
 words. And words like mine! 
 
THE DEAR SAINT ELIZABETH 57 
 
 Beggar — Hasten, or she'll be gone. Don't lose 
 the chance! 
 
 Hugo — Lady, your prayers. (Sobs pitifully). 
 To raise a soul to life! 
 
 Elizabeth — (Recognizing him). Hugo! For 
 years I've prayed for thy conversion. Has it come 
 at last? Thou wert my husband's friend! 
 
 Hugo — Oh, lady! teach me to serve God once 
 more! I've long denied Him! I've served my years 
 to Satan, and reaped alas! but tares. The husks 
 of swine have fed me. Oh ! to be pure of heart, and 
 clean once more! To hold myself erect as doth a 
 man, and know myself for what I was, or still may 
 hope to be! 
 
 Elizabeth — Hugo! The angels joy, when sin- 
 ners weep; more than for many just. Go, seek the 
 Priest! and at his kindly feet weep out thy shame, 
 thy sin. Open thy soul's dark gates, to a pure flood of 
 contrite tears ! They'll wash away thy stains. The 
 land shall smile again and bring forth flowers! 
 (Joyously. He sobs, she persuades tenderly). And 
 yet! 'Tis not enough to weep for sin, because it 
 brought ye shame. God is your Father and a ten- 
 der one. And ye have paid His love, alas! with 
 hate. Prove your regret! Do worthy deeds, and 
 be a man once more! Have ye the courage? 
 
 Hugo — Lady, want and pain are cruel masters, 
 yet they teach us well! I'm stronger now! 
 
 Elizabeth — Then Hugo, list! Thy body once 
 was God's fair temple, and there dwelt within His 
 Holy Spirit. And thy hand has raised shrines to 
 base idols, in the Holy place. Oh cast them out 
 and set thou up within a Holy altar! with a living 
 flame of love that dieth not! 
 
 Hugo — Thy words are like a song! And 
 through my veins run fire! I'll hasten to the Priest! 
 
58 THE DEAR SAINT ELIZABETH 
 
 Lady, oh! never fear! (Runs out). 
 
 Elizabeth — Thank God! (She raises her 
 hands to Heaven and resumes her prayer, entering 
 the house. The beggar sits down with his hat be- 
 fore him to beg and watch). 
 
 (Enter Walter of Varila, Master Conrad, 
 Bishop and cleric attendants). 
 
 Walter — 'Tis here she lives! At least they told 
 us so! Oh! what a wretched hole for queens to 
 stomach! Yet she is a Saint! And we, thank 
 Heaven, are not! 
 
 Bishop of Bamburg — (Rebuking him). Pov- 
 erty's not shame. And happiness dwells not in 
 kingdoms only! 
 
 Conrad — (Knocking). Lady! Come forth! 
 Here's friends would speak with thee! 
 
 Elizabeth — (Coming out on her balcony). 
 Yes! Master Conrad! Walter? Art thou here? 
 And mine good uncle too! Your blessing then! 
 (Kneels a moment for it as he gives it). It 
 doth me good to see some well known face dawn 
 on my vision. Oh! give me good news! Of my 
 dear children! (Her face lights up). Have they 
 grown? Is Herman strong? And what of Ger- 
 trude? Sweet! Oft I feel in dreams those cling- 
 ing arms and tender childish kisses! My maids? 
 Are they quite well? Oh! tell me all. (Impatient- 
 ly). At once! (Tries to calm herself). 
 
 Walter — All are well! And send thee greet- 
 ing. But not this, is yet our message. Sophie doth re- 
 pent she used thee hardly, and at her request the 
 Landgrave Henry will disgorge thy lands. They're 
 thine to own again. Lands, gold and jewels! 
 Stretch but out thy hand and reign a queen once 
 more! 
 
 Elizabeth — (Agitated, looks to Heaven). No, 
 
THE DEAR SAINT ELIZABETH 59 
 
 no! Good Walter! Speak no more of gold, nor 
 yet of kingdoms. Heaven's all my store! And 'tis 
 enough. (To Bishop). Oh! uncle, bid me not 
 again to reign. (Agitated). To wake the ashes 
 of this broken heart, to fresher flame. 'Twill flicker 
 and go out with one unkindly word ! ( Shakes her 
 head). I've laid my riches up, where moth doth 
 not corrupt, nor robber steal! 
 
 Conrad — Take care, my lady! Keep thy dower 
 rights to give to Herman. 
 
 Elizabeth — To Herman do I give them. He 
 shall reign ! And Walter'll be his tutor ! 
 
 Bishop — (Calmly). Niece, I understand the 
 theme is painful. But I've other news. Frederick 
 of Germany doth seek thy hand. Thou'rt young 
 and lovely still. Oh ! give it then. And reign an em- 
 press. All that heart can wish shall bloom around 
 thee, — children, love and gold! Ambition's heights 
 thou'lt scale! Command and conquer! 
 
 Elizabeth — Uncle, I hear thee! Yet I heed 
 thee not! Such words as these to me; who once 
 loved Louis? (Exaltedly). Marriage is a bond so 
 true, so holy, that if broken once, the hurt endures 
 alway! (Calmly). Ye come too late! My love is 
 Heaven's. (Nobly). Who dwells in heart on God 
 doth blind become to things of lesser beauty ! Good 
 Uncle, tell him No! (Emphatically). 
 
 Bishop — (Angrily). Niece! You dwell on vi- 
 sions. I speak sober sense! To waste a lengthy 
 life, on sturdy beggars, and with lep-rous brats! 
 You! who wert born to rule! And what if I com- 
 mand? 
 
 Elizabeth — (Proudly). Dare to command, 
 and thou shalt rue the day! I've made my vow to 
 Heaven. And naught shall turn me thence. To 
 Christ I'll live, and Christ I'll love, forever! And 
 
6o THE DEAR SAINT ELIZABETH 
 
 if by force ye tried, to turn my will, I'd mar this 
 youthful face with knives, until ye fled in terror! 
 
 Conrad — (Protesting with a smile). Heaven 
 forbid! Tell them, at least, you're happy! 
 
 Elizabeth — To live to God! With conscience 
 pure and clean from sin's intention! Yea, 'tis hap- 
 piness! Uncle, I'm a queen! and count in hearts 
 my subjects. 'Twas not always so! The people love, 
 and bless me, as I pass, because I've helped them! 
 (Laughs). I've no time to waste, on idle courtiers! 
 (Joyously). Oh, 'tis a wondrous thing, to ease 
 with one cool touch the fevered brow, or, waken 
 souls that sleep from sin to virtue! I'm happy! and 
 I'm free! I nothing own, and nothing fetters me! 
 If night be cold or food be scarce, I pray, and heed 
 it not ! And if my bed be hard, the weary sleep and 
 note not comforts. Once I served the body. Now, 
 my Soul's alive! The body's nothing! Made of 
 vilest dust, and soon to feed the worms. The Soul ! 
 A beauteous thing! It buds in life, but Heaven's 
 its blossoming! (Looks up radiantly). 
 
 Bishop — (To Walter discontentedly). All very 
 fine! But we can't follow her in flights like these! 
 A little mad! perhaps! (taps his forehead signifi- 
 cantly) with pious fancies! 
 
 Conrad — ^Would that all were mad, with fancies 
 like to these! 
 
 Walter — ^Well, let it go! Farewell good mis- 
 tress. (Exit with Bishop). 
 
 Elizabeth — Fare ye well, good friends. (Kisses 
 her hand. Sighs, turning to Conrad). Oh, Master 
 Conrad, I have angered them! They cannot grasp 
 my thoughts. I climb to heights where angels dwell, 
 perhaps, (sadly sighs) but men can't follow! 
 (Weeps a moment). 
 
 Conrad — Poor simple folk! Like fowls, they 
 
THE DEAR SAINT ELIZABETH 6i 
 
 build their nests of muddy earth. Thine is the 
 eagle's flight, on princely wings, to cleave the ether 
 blue! Thy soul's a ship that breasts a chartless 
 main. But One doth guide, to a celestial haven. 
 (Lifts his biretta). How poorly is God served by 
 many men ! They give Him crumbs from Mam- 
 mon's table! Drink to the dregs of Pleasure's cup, 
 and fling the lees to Him! Thou would'st give 
 thy King more royal service. In youth's brimming 
 cup would mingle sparkling wine for his libation! 
 Tell me? Is it so? 
 
 Elizabeth — Yea Father! (calming herself). 
 Nature did speak ! But grace has conquered ! I 
 would joyous quaff the cup of sacrifice! E'en 
 though 'tis bitter. (Joyously). 'Tis our God we 
 serve! Good night. And thanks. 
 
 Conrad — Dream then of Heaven. It will come 
 at last! And the angels guard thee. (He speaks 
 to her with great reverence with his eyes on the 
 ground, being alone with her, save for the beggar 
 — who is fast asleep). 
 
 (Soft lullabies with a pathetic ending as curtain 
 rises, when music grows more faint and ceases). 
 Curtain. 
 
 Falls a moment to indicate lapse of time. 
 
62 THE DEAR SAINT ELIZABETH 
 Act IV. Scene 2 
 
 One month later. 
 
 The same, — towards dawn. Chill grey light be- 
 fore the morning breaks. 
 
 A dim light in Elizabeth's house. Beggars 
 crowding about, watching. The sound of a tink- 
 ling bell outside and the Miserere chanted by the 
 two boys with cross and censer and lights who ac- 
 company Conrad who is clad in white vestments 
 and humeral, carrying the Blessed Sacrament. He 
 enters the house. The beggars all kneel as they 
 hear the procession approach. The sound of the 
 bell is heard three times within, and the murmer 
 of voices. Conrad and boys come out and cross the 
 stage to exit. Silence until they have gone out. 
 
 Chant 
 
 Miserere mei, Deus, secundum 
 Magnam misericordium tuum. 
 
 First Beggar — Twelve days it is we've watched 
 her come and go, tottering from weakness. Now, 
 she dies, they say! And we can only weep. 
 
 Beggar Woman — She's well prepared for the 
 last journey. The holy sacraments will ease the 
 way, good deeds have gone before! 
 
 First Beggar — ^What's her illness? 
 
 Beggar Woman — Some say 'tis fever. Others 
 that 'tis not. None know! 
 
 Conrad — (Entering in cassock and surplice). 
 A broken heart! That garnered closely up in 
 one small crimson cup Life's wealth of love! 
 Until it burst and spilled its fragrant store at Jesus* 
 feet. (He opens his breviary and reads, walking up 
 
THE DEAR SAINT ELIZABETH 63 
 
 and down, by the curtained window, and occasion- 
 ally quoting aloud) : "Though I walk in the valley 
 of shadows, no evil shall I fear, for Thou art with 
 me!" 
 
 Beggars — (Whispering behind Conrad's back). 
 He loved her! 
 
 Conrad — (Turning calmly). Nay, 'twas never 
 so! Ye carnal minds, too vile to grasp the thing 
 called holiness! I did guard her soul as a white lily 
 in Heaven's garden fair, a breath might tarnish! 
 A Master, I to guide her steps in virtue, — harsh- 
 ly did I rule, as duty bade. The sculptor's hand 
 strikes hard! Yet secret wept, in pity for the child, 
 so hardly used by fate. (Wipes his eyes). 
 
 Beggar — Hush, 'tis Guta! See! 
 
 GuTA — (Coming to door, weeping, but with an 
 exalted look). Oh! what wondrous words! She 
 sees the dawn of day on everlasting hills! And all 
 the angel hosts do gather there! Her Louis too, 
 so young and lovely! 
 
 Above and Unseen — (Soft music of violins 
 and harps with the minor motive of the Crusader's 
 Hymn. Guta hastily retires as if to sounds 
 within). 
 
 Conrad — (Reading). I recommend thee, dear 
 Sister, to thy Maker, who formed thee from the 
 dust. May the radiant company of angels meet thy 
 soul, may the Apostles receive thee, the glorious 
 martyrs await thee, the blessed virgins conduct thee. 
 May the living God place thee in His garden of 
 Paradise. 
 
 (Attendants bring in a pallet with a young lad 
 paralyzed from birth). 
 
 Beggar — (Explaining to Conrad). 'Tis the 
 poor lad she cherished, who dies without her care. 
 
64 THE DEAR SAINT ELIZABETH 
 
 He ne'er heard of God until she taught him. 
 
 Conrad — (Motioning to bearers). There let 
 him lie, perhaps her prayers will help him. (They 
 place the cot, the boy lies as one dead). 
 
 GuTA — (Returning). Hark! she speaks again 
 in wondrous music! She loveth but God alone, 
 and loving Him finds all she loved in life! "The 
 precious Pearl!" she cries, '*is mine, forever !"( Goes 
 in again). (Soft music continues). 
 
 Conrad — (Prays). As pants the heart for cool- 
 ing streams, so doth my heart pant for thee. Foun- 
 tain of living waters! Depart, Christian soul! 
 And may'st thou behold thy Redeemer face to face 
 in the Vision of eternal truth which is the joy 
 of the Blessed! 
 
 (Angel voices are heard softly chanting to harps, 
 followed by an exquisite bird song) . The pale blue 
 of light early dawn grows more intense and brightly 
 luminous. 
 
 All — What's that? 
 
 Beggar Woman — Her body sings while her 
 soul's passing! 
 
 (A fragrance of roses floats on the air). 
 
 Conrad — Oh, what odors sweet float to the 
 sense ! 
 
 (They kneel reverently. The song again. Un- 
 noticed the paralytic slowly rises, lifting his arms 
 wonderingly. He does not know the feeling of 
 life. He rises from the waist up). 
 
 Paralytic — Is this what men call life? 
 
 (They rise amazed and look at him, clinging to- 
 gether and speechless). 
 
 Paralytic — What's this? (Flinging of? the 
 covering, he rises and crouches against the wall). 
 I'm cured, I think! 
 
 All — A miracle! The saint has cured him! 
 
THE DEAR SAINT ELIZABETH 65 
 
 (The light still pale blue increases with a glow 
 about the hut). 
 
 Conrad — (Coming forward and repressing 
 them). Nay! wait till Holy church confirms the 
 sentence. It will come in time. Note down his 
 words. And bear ye witness all. 
 
 (While they look at the paralytic and Conrad, 
 the hut becomes luminous — the curtain slowly rises 
 showing Elizabeth dead on her straw pallet, in the 
 dress of a Franciscan tertiary, with bare feet. 
 There is a heavenly smile on her face, which is half 
 turned to the audience. Above the hut are visible 
 the snowy wings of an angelic host. 
 
 There is a burst of soft music that gradually dies 
 away. The people turn hastily and kneel in won- 
 der — the paralytic stands erect joyously with hands 
 raised to Heaven. The orchestra with organ plays 
 the Magnificat). 
 
 The dawn comes in a burst of rosy light. As 
 the faith of the people is more evident in their 
 action the vision fades away, showing Elizabeth 
 dead amid her natural surrounding. The Mag- 
 nificat can be sung outside, as a fine effect would 
 be produced if the whole orchestral accompaniment 
 could appear to be celestial. 
 
66 THE DEAR SAINT ELIZABETH 
 
 Act. IV. Scene 3 
 
 Six Years Later — Musical Tableau 
 
 Before the curtain rises a choir of nuns is heard 
 singing as if in procession the ''Office of Elizabeth." 
 They are seen walking away as curtain rises: 
 
 Ave gemma speciosa 
 Mulicrum sidus rosa 
 Ex regale stirpe nata 
 Nunc in coelis coronata. 
 Salve! rosa pietatis 
 Salve! Flor Hungariae. 
 Salve! fulgens Margarita 
 In coelesti sede sita. 
 Rosa re gem Majestatis 
 Ut nos salvet hodie. 
 Lumen mittens caritatis 
 Ac coelesis gratiae! 
 
 (Translation) 
 
 Hail sparkling gem so rare, 
 
 Hail ruddy planet fair! 
 
 Mid'st starry womankind so brightly shining, 
 
 Born of a regal race 
 
 Now crowned in heavenly place: — 
 
 Hail, rose of grace in beauty twining! 
 
 Hail, Hungary's flower! 
 
 Hail, lustrous pearl, her dower ! 
 
 Set close in Heaven's bright throne above! 
 
 Pray then our Heavenly King 
 
 To-day! to thee we sing. 
 
 And send us down His grace and heavenly love. 
 
THE DEAR SAINT ELIZABETH 67 
 
 Marburg as before. Elizabeth has been canonized 
 at Perugia, but the Apostolic Delegate is announc- 
 ing the decree to the people. The procession with 
 cross and lights, etc., is passing under an arch deco- 
 rated with flowers. Walter of Verila, guards the 
 young King Herman w^ho sits on a throne (left) 
 with Sophie seated near him. There is a rich carpet- 
 on the ground and a catafalque royally draped at 
 centre. Back of stage is a crimson velvet curtain 
 which is drawn at close of scene by two pages dressed 
 in blue and white. 
 
 The Apostolic Delegate stands on the right under 
 a canopy with the decree which he has been reading 
 in his hand. The Bishop of Bamburg and other 
 distinguished clerics are beside him in rich robes of 
 office. There is much movement as the curtain rises, 
 the procession going and coming, prelates kneeling 
 to kiss the ring of the Delegate in allegiance to the 
 Church, before taking their seats. Agnes, Guta and 
 Isentrude dressed in white approach the Bishop of 
 Bamburg. Agnes kneels and he places a white veil 
 on her head, the others receiving the veil in turn. 
 A beggar woman stands in front holding the hand of 
 a young boy and points out the picture to him. 
 Hugo in Crusader's dress stands bravely on guard at 
 the bier. Henry, in sackcloth and with bare feet 
 stands with bowed head on the other side. The 
 Emperor Frederick, in rich robes, is kneeling on 
 one knee and laying his crow^n upon the bier. A 
 cleric frees a number of white doves from a cage, 
 and as the incense rises from censers swung by the 
 Acolytes all are looking up as if bidden to "lift up 
 their hearts" to Heaven. The delegate intones 
 "Sancta Elizabeth, ora pro nobis" ! and the clergy 
 and populace cry "alleluia!" The bells chime mer- 
 rily, and trumpets sound. There is a slight hush 
 
68 THE DEAR SAINT ELIZABETH 
 
 as the delegate intones the Te Deum Laudamus." 
 
 Then the cries burst out again, the orchestra or- 
 gan and grand choir joining in the hymn, the bells 
 and trumpets mingling harmoniously. As the verse 
 is sung the two pages draw aside the curtain, re- 
 vealing the living picture of the "Miracle of the 
 Roses." 
 
 Te Deum laudamus; te Dominum Confitemur 
 Te aeternum Patrem vumis terra veneratur. 
 Tibi omnes Angeli ! tibi coeli et universae potestates 
 Tibi cherubim et seraphim; incessabili voce procla- 
 
 mant 
 Sanctus, Sanctus, Sanctus, 
 Domine Deus Sabaoth. 
 
 The life of the Christian is hid in God; 
 Posterity its wreaths shall twine, 
 Of bay and laurel. 
 
 Finis. 
 
 H17 89 1 
 
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