Fifty Contemporary One-Act Plays
Chapter 272 : Don't, dear--don't think it too strange. Everything is strange, after all.AT

Don't, dear--don't think it too strange. Everything is strange, after all.

ATALANTA. Your face was like hers, then.

BENVENUTA. Please don't say that, dear. It's--it's foolish--isn't it?

But I told you once I was waiting for something--all my life waiting.

And now--and now!

[_She touches Atalanta's head, lightly, and goes off upstairs toward her cell. Atalanta is left looking after her. Grimana comes in._]

GRIMANA. Well, mistress. Prideful over not sitting with the novices this night, eh? The lute-playing comes in well at last, does it?

ATALANTA. Oh, Sister Grimana, I--

[_She stops, confused._]

GRIMANA. What is it, child?

ATALANTA. It's Benvenuta. Have you seen her? Have you?--

GRIMANA. Yes, dear, I've seen. She's young. These times come to all of us, I suppose. But they pa.s.s. Calm, child. Count your b.u.t.tons.

ATALANTA. I was frightened, Sister Grimana.

GRIMANA. Aye, you'll frighten the novices just so in your turn. But just the same, I wish she wouldn't--

[_The Abbess reenters, as a bell strikes from the chapel. Rosalba comes on from the left, with two or three sisters._]

ABBESS. It is time. Let us all proceed to the chapel.

[_The Sister Sacristan carrying the lute and some music, enters from the chapel._]

Are all the sisters a.s.sembled?

SISTER SACRISTAN. All save those who are here, and Sister Benvenuta.

ABBESS. Please you, Sister Grimana, go for Benvenuta.

[_Grimana goes up the stairs._]

SISTER SACRISTAN. Here is the lute, Atalanta Badoer. The notes are clear, and the times you are to play them are written there.

ATALANTA. My hands tremble so. I'm afraid I shall fail in it.

ABBESS. Courage, child. I know it is the first time, but you will do well--I am sure you will do well. Come, let us take our places.

[_Grimana enters on the steps, in great trouble of mind. She carries in her hand the puppet of the Beelzebubb, twisted and shattered and singed with fire._]

GRIMANA. Reverend Mother, forgive me. I have seen--I have seen--

[_She clasps and unclasps her hands, unable to speak._]

ABBESS. What was it, Grimana?

GRIMANA. I scarcely know, Mother. Mary be my s.h.i.+eld!

ABBESS. Speak, Sister.

GRIMANA. There was a great light through every crevice of the door of her cell. And music in the air--like harps and viols d'amour. And on the floor outside I found this--shattered and half burnt--this puppet. And from within, sounds--

ABBESS. Tell me all, Sister.

GRIMANA [_her fingers on the b.u.t.tons of her cape_]. Sounds as of a mother and her babe, cooing and kissing and caressing each other.

ABBESS. Call the Father Confessor.

[_The Sister Sacristan goes out toward the chapel._]

We must look to this. If her mind have broken under some penance--

ATALANTA. Let me go--

ABBESS. No. She was so pale--

[_The Sister Sacristan returns with the Abbe Filosi._]

Reverend Father, the little sister of the house of Loredan--

[_Then, the upper corridor is filled with a growing light--the same radiant gold that streamed from the Sacristy closet. The sisters bless themselves and most of them fall on their knees. In the light Benvenuta appears walking erect, her lameness gone, and holding before her the Christ Child, in a wondrous robe of carmine silk damask. She laughs softly with the babe as she pa.s.ses, and when she has pa.s.sed off toward the chapel, whence the organ is again heard, the light fades._]

ABBE FILOSI [_in a hushed voice_]. A miracle!

ABBESS. She is healed! A miracle of the Holy Child. Blessed Mother--thy Holy Child in our house.

[_Atalanta goes swiftly up the steps and off after Benvenuta._]

ABBE FILOSI. Let there be a special service of thanksgiving.

ABBESS. Let all hearts be uplifted!

[_Atalanta returns, trailing her lute behind her, and sinks down at the head of the stairway, sobbing._]

[_Curtain._]

THREE TRAVELERS WATCH A SUNRISE