Deliver us from Evil (16 page)

At once, there were shouted protestations from around the green.

'Let us be perfectly clear,' said Faustus, raising his voice so that the cries were stilled at once. 'You must surrender yourselves to the mercy of Sir Charles. You must give yourselves over to him, freely, to serve him as he desires.
In
return, the wealth
I
have shown you - and more - will all be yours.'

Again, cries of agreement rose around the green.

Faustus lifted up his hand.

'You agree, then? All of you? Without reserve?'

The answer now was deafening.

'And yet . . .' Faustus frowned; and for the first time he stared at Mrs Foxe and Mr Webbe. 'And yet - there are those,
I
fear, who do not agree to the terms.'

'
I
pray the Lord have mercy upon us all,' replied Mr Webbe, his expression as impenetrable as it had ever been. He scanned the faces of the villagers. '
I
confess it,' he acknowledged, '
I
shall never barter my soul away for gold.'

A low, angry murmur answered him.

'Please!' he cried suddenly. '
I
beseech you all - do not destroy yourselves like this! Have you not learned yet, that however sweet the Devil's tongue may sound, his gifts lead only to wretchedness and the flames of that Hell which is known as Despair? You are good people, all of you - or once you were. It is not too late for you to be so again.'

Silence answered his appeal; and then a stone hit him on the shoulder. Mr Webbe raised a hand to protect himself, but a second stone struck him on the back of the head and he toppled from his saddle like a heavy sack of grain. Faustus laughed immoderately at the sight; and, still laughing, rode across to where his enemy lay half-dazed in the dust.

'You have always been a troublemaker,' he sneered. 'You, and this sorry woman's husband together.' He turned to Mrs Foxe and cuffed her across the face, very hard, so that she too was knocked down from her horse. 'No!' cried Robert, riding forward, but Faustus ducked him easily; seizing him by the neck, he wrestled Robert from his saddle, and thrust him on to his own. Robert struggled to break free; but Faustus' nails dug deep into his arms and he could not escape. Meanwhile, Mrs Foxe was rising slowly to her feet; but she was kicked in the face and collapsed again, to lie by Mr Webbe's side. Faustus wheeled his horse round to address the crowd. 'It is necessary, sometimes,' he cried, 'to lop off rotten branches, that the tree itself be saved. Have not these> two -grovelling before us now - always been compounded of rottenness? It was this man, fifteen years ago, who helped expel from Woodton its master, Sir Charles. And it was this woman who was rescued by that crime from the fate she richly merited - to be burnt as a notorious whore, and a witch.'

Cries of agreement answered him, mingled with cheers, and then, as the crowd stared at Mrs Foxe and Mr Webbe, they began to hiss and chant. Some men broke forward, intending to seize the prisoners; but although Faustus smiled at the sight, he shook his head and waved them back.

'Not yet,' he murmured, 'not yet, loyal friends. For there is no crime so terrible that it cannot be forgiven - if only it first be confessed.' He turned to his soldiers, and beckoned with his arm. 'Bring forward the other prisoners.'

Two of the soldiers broke from their line. One led Sir Henry, who had been tethered round his neck; the second was pulling on Emily. 'No!' cried Robert, struggling to escape again, but Faustus' grip was implacable, and still he could not slip it. He stared despairingly at Emily. She had not heard him, and her eyes seemed blind with terror.

'This man too,' proclaimed Faustus, gesturing towards Sir Henry, 'has been a most arrant traitor. Come, sir - confess it.'

'
I
confess
...'
said Sir Henry. He swallowed. '
I
did betray my commanding officer. Sir Charles Wolverton, to the rebel, Captain Foxe.'

'Are you sorry?'

'
I
am sorry.'

'Are you punished?'

'
I
am punished.'

Faustus curled his lips into a smile. 'How?' he whispered. Sir Henry swallowed again; he glanced at his daughter, at her pale, frightened face. 'My wife . . .' he said at last. 'Yes?' prompted Faustus. 'My wife was slain.'

'Yes,' said Faustus. 'Exterminated - lest her womb produce further traitors.' He nodded to the soldier holding Emily. The man twisted her hair violently, so that the girl was forced on to her knees; then he silenced her by placing a knife against her throat.

'You promised!' cried Sir Henry, running forward until throttled by the rope around his neck. 'Please!' he choked. 'Please, not my daughter, no!'

Faustus shrugged. '
I
must have proof of your repentance.' 'Yes,' gasped Sir Henry, 'yes, of course!'

'You see these traitors?' Faustus gestured down at Mrs Foxe and Mr Webbe. 'How do you think they should be punished for their crimes?'

Sir Henry stared at them dumbly; he tried to speak, then choked and shook his head.

Faustus turned to the ring of villagers. 'Decide!' he shrieked suddenly. 'How should they be punished? This heretic - and this witch! The judgment must be yours - and their blood upon your heads!'

There was silence; then a woman stepped forward, her face twisted with hatred. 'Hang them!' she shrieked. 'Hang them both!'

'No!' answered a man from the far side of the green. 'Hanging is too good for them!'

'Stone them!' screamed a third villager.

'Burn them!' answered a fourth.

'There,' said Faustus, turning to Sir Henry. He lolled in his saddle, then bared his teeth in a smile. 'You have heard the sentence of the court.' He waved with his hand. 'See that it is done.'

Sir Henry stood paralysed, and still could not say a word. But there was no need for him to order the execution, for the villagers were already surging across the green, and although Mr Webbe tried to fend them away, he was submerged beneath their fists, and then Mrs Foxe as well. As he saw his mother being seized and dragged along the ground, Robert began to scream. 'Father!' he cried, 'Father, Father, where are you? Mother! No, Mother!' But he was silenced by a laughing Faustus, who ordered him gagged and bound, so that there was now not the faintest chance of his escape. Then Faustus spurred his horse forward, following the crowd to the edge of the green. He glanced down into his prisoner's face, and smiled. Robert's eyes were bulging; he was screaming wordlessly from behind his gag. For on the edge of the green, two stakes had been erected; and around the stakes were great bundles of wood.

Mr Webbe and Mrs Foxe were each secured in turn. The crowd was now baying for their deaths - screaming, spitting, hurling stones. Each prisoner was repeatedly hit; but neither protested, nor even cried out. Then gradually the tumult began to fade, until silence had fallen right across the crowd, for Sir Henry was now standing beneath the stakes; and all were waiting for the fire to be lit.

A torch of burning pitch was passed through the crowd. Sir Henry stared at it with numb horror, until at last it was handed to him, and he began to shake. '
I
cannot do it,' he cried; and at once, at Faustus' command, Emily was dragged through the crowd and hauled across the bundles of wood towards the stakes.

'No!' shrieked Sir Henry. He clambered after his daughter and took her in his arms; then he lit the very corner of the pyre. He gazed up at Mrs Foxe. '
I
am sorry,' he said.

'Do not be,' she answered. She smiled, despite her tears and the bruising to her face. '
I
see behind the multitude a chariot waiting for me, and it will soon take me up through the clouds, with the sound of trumpets, to the Celestial Gate. Do not be sorry, Sir Henry - for
I
am not.' But even as she said so, she began to weep. 'Farewell, my darling boy!' she cried. 'Robert! In the mansions of the Almighty, we shall be reunited once again - your father - you - and
I
. Let your life be as a progress to meet with us there
...'
She tried to say more; but she had swallowed smoke and began to cough. The crowd was falling back now, as the heat began to build, and Robert noticed how the soldiers had vanished into the dark. For a moment, his head was filled with wild schemes of wrestling himself free and putting out the flames; but even as he struggled, he felt the knots begin to bite, and he slumped despairingly forward once again. Of his father, he realised, there was still not a trace.

The heat of the flames was soon burning against his cheeks as he stared into the heart of the inferno. His mother and Mr Webbe seemed nothing now, just two streaks of black amidst the oranges and reds, as their blood, and flesh, and bone became smoke. High the clouds billowed, high above the village, so that the brightness of the very stars seemed blotted out, and the dust was scattered on the breeze into the night. Dimly, through his tears, Robert followed its flight.

'It is done,' said Faustus at last. He stared about him at the throng of villagers gathered around the fire. 'All is prepared,' he murmured, 'and all shall be fulfilled.' Then he wheeled his horse round, and left the cheering crowds behind.

'Now,
body, turn to air, Or Lucifer will bear thee quick to Hell! O soul, be chanc'd into little water-drops, And fall into the ocean, ne'er be found!'

Christopher Marlowe,
Doctor Faustus

A

s Faustus rode towards the darkness into which the soldiers had vanished, Robert saw Emily crouched beneath a tree, her head in her hands. Sir Henry was kneeling beside her, attempting to make her face him, but she remained hunched in her grief and would not look up. As Faustus' horse rode by, Sir Henry glanced round and he saw Robert. Guilt twisted his face; but although Robert knew that Sir Henry was staring into his eyes for some mark of forgiveness, he had nothing to offer, nothing but his hate. Sir Henry shuddered; and as he did so, Emily looked up. She stared at her father, then followed his gaze and at once leapt to her feet. She would have run after Robert; but she was seized by her father, and held prisoner in his arms. Robert struggled to shout back to her; but the gag was tight in his mouth, and he could make no sound.

'There are finer joys in life than women.' Faustus laughed shortly. 'But you seem very young to require that lesson.'

Robert twisted round in his bonds; tried to believe that his eyes could kill.

Faustus, though, only laughed a second time. 'Of course, you do not thank me now for what
I
have done, but in time you will.' He glanced back at the pyre. 'It is best to be without love. If you are to voyage where
I
will lead you, if you are to learn what
I
shall teach you, then love is nothing, no better than pitch upon an eagle's wings, clogging its flight, dooming its ambition to soar above the clouds. You are your father's son, Robert - and he was strong, and courageous, and full of resolve. But he had the canker of morality in his soul, which debases even the best into mud. He, and your mother, and Lady Vaughan, and Mr Webbe - all would have stopped me, and so all had to go. But you are clever, Robert, cleverer than them - and although you may hate me now, and curse me, in the end you will be mine.'

'So my father, then,' Robert wanted to scream, 'my father too is dead?' He had imagined he was so abandoned upon an ocean of horrors that nothing could have persuaded him to feel any more lost; but he knew now that the ocean was infinite. Tears blinded him; but he could not wipe them away. Instead, they trickled down his cheek, and moistened his gag, and fell on to the ropes which were bound around his chest. He tried to stop crying; but still the hot tears flowed.

'Mewl on,' whispered Faustus suddenly, 'but understand what it is
I
am offering you.' They had been passing along the track which led through the wood; now they left the trees, and emerged on to the plain. Stonehenge was before them, silhouetted against the blaze of a full moon; and around it, some on horseback, some on foot, was a circle of the dead. 'See this ancient place,' Faustus whispered. 'All its secrets, all its powers will soon be mine. How hard
I
have laboured -how long
I
have prepared. Would you not share in my wisdom. Robert? Even if you had as many souls as there are stars in this sky -would you not surrender every last one for just a taste, just a glimpse, of what
I
offer you for free?' He began to pull at Robert's gag, his fingers shaking with his eagerness. He tugged at the knot violently; and the gag was undone.

Robert stared round. He narrowed his eyes, as though the gleam in Faustus' stare were too bright for him, but he did not look away. For a long time, he said nothing. 'What are you? he whispered at last. 'What nature of thing?'