Scenes-22-24 The Corridor Outside the
Guest Chamber of the Convent.
Hugo pacing up and down. Orion leaning
against the wall.
Hugo, Eric and Thurston have met with
the robbers, Osric, Rudolph and Dagobert at a farm house not far from 
the convent.
Both sides,at the insistance of Hugo, reluctantly sign a pact
to give the women (and thus Agatha) safe passage from the Convent before it is sacked.
Hugo has about 20 riders with him at the farm not far from the Convent
to act as escorts for the women from the Convent gate.
After telling the Abbot that he (The Abbot) and his Monks will be left to fight
the robbers. The Abbot says he has despatched two riders to summon 
Prince Otto for help, one has been killed by Dagoberts men but the other
Hugo laments not having made an effort to save the whole Convent.


My day of grace with theirs is past,
I might have saved them; 'tis too late-
Too late for both. The die is cast,
And I resign me to my fate.
God's vengeance I await.

The boundary twixt right and wrong
Is not so easy to discern;
And man is weak and fate is strong,
And destiny man's hopes will spurn,
Man's schemes will overturn.

Thou liest, thou fiend! Not unawares
The sinner swallows Satan's bait,
Nor pits conceal'd nor hidden snares
Seeks blindly; wherefore dost thou prate
Of destiny and fate?

Who first named fate? But never mind,
Let that pass by-- to Adam's fall
And Adam's curse look back, and find
Iniquity the lot of all,
And sin original.

But I have sinn'd, repented, sinn'd,
Till seven times that sin may be
By seventy multiplied; the wind
Is constant when compared with me,
And stable is the sea!

My hopes are sacrificed, for what?
For days of folly, less or more,
For years to see those dead hopes rot,
Like dead weeds scatter'd on the shore,
Beyond the surfs that roar!
The wiles of Eve are swift to smite;
Aye, swift to smite and not to spare--
Red lips and round limbs sweet and white,
Dark eyes, and sunny, silken hair,
Thy betters may ensnare.

Not so; the strife 'twixt hell and heaven
I felt last night, and well I knew
The crisis; but my aid was given
To hell. Thou'st known the crisis too, 
For once thou'st spoken true.

Having foretold it, there remains
For grace no time, for hope no room;
Even now I seem to feel the pains
Of hell, that wait beyond the gloom
Of my dishonour'd tomb.

Thou who hast lived and died to save
Us sinners, Christ of Galilee!
Thy great love pardon'd and forgave
The dying thief upon the tree,
Thou canst not pardon me!
Dear Lord! hear Thou my latest prayer,
For prayer must die since hope is dead;
Thy Father's vengeance let me bear,
Nor let my guilt be visited
Upon a guiltless head!

Are! God is just! Full sure I am
He never did predestinate
Our souls to hell. Ourselves we damn--

To Orion with sudden passion.
Serpent! I know thee now,  too late;
Curse thee! Work out thy hate!

I hate thee not; thy grievous plight
Would move my pity, but I bear
A curse to which thy curse seems light;
Thy wrong is better than my right,
My day is darker than thy night;
Beside the whitest hope I share   
How white is thy despair!
                 Adam Lindsay Gordon