Oh, you must, for God’s own sake,
His Majesty—He cannot strive and fail;
His heart is set on you and He must have you,
If but to bind in hell. Repent the past,
Repent, repent!
CARLOMAN.
Not anything—the whole
Strange journey and its perils that have brought me
Here to the brink of Death: and all will come
And touch that wonder, all will enter in,
And rest and be revived. Why should one trouble?
Death comes to all, you cannot banish him,
And Death has all we seek for!
ZACHARIAS.
These are words
For men the Church has blessed: but if you die
Without the holy Sacraments, unshriven,
And unabsolved, you will be flung away
To yonder stream, shroudless and like a dog.
Thus heretics are judged.
CARLOMAN.
[excitedly] Be borne along,
Borne with the current. Is that possible?
Borne dead—well, each man takes his full desert—
Mine ... is it possible? And further on
Past towns and cities ... then at last the sea.
ZACHARIAS.
Vain hope! You are God’s prisoner. No escape,
No waves to hide you and no help of man;
For prayer itself like hope is quenched before
The everlasting Prison-house. Farewell!
[Exit with the Monks.]