Jacques Sar— Fly fast now, Noel.
Father Benedict— (Rapt, looking off at the sky, right.)
Why should the storm move that way, if the chase—
(Turning left.)
Lies yon way? We will wait.
(Aloud.)
God seems to call
Up yonder where the lightning cracks the sky.
(After a silence, with his eyes upon the heavens.)
Like golden links your names shall hang to mine
And dangle down the ages. Men shall say:
"This man and that man were with Benedict
Up in the glory of the Lord that day
When heathendom went tumbling down to hell."
Oh, you shall live forever envied men!
(He walks about buried in his thought. Occasionally he stops for a moment in meditation, then resumes his pace. Old Jacques, hesitatingly and stopping whenever the priest stops, follows him about as though he wished to communicate something, but was uncertain whether to break his revery. The men watch them in silence.)
Father Benedict—