Act III scene 1

ACT III

 Scene 1  “Clare and the Second Order”

Setting:  the home of Favorone family in Assisi;the church; forest near San Damiano.  Set the home on the left side of the set, the forest in the centre, and the Benedictine monastery on the right side of the set.

(CURTAIN REMAINS CLOSED)

(WOLF & FRANCIS STAND TOGETHER AT THE SIDE OF THE STAGE)

WOLF: So far yours has been a story with only men in it.  Aren’t there any women in your villages and towns?  All right.  There was Pica, your mother, who rescued you from the cellar.  But weren’t there any women who followed you?  I mean, you aren’t all that ugly.  A bit ragged and not very clean.  But when you were cleaned up and in your fancy clothes, I’m sure you had lots of girlfriends.  Did they all drop you when you weren’t rich anymore?

FRANCIS: That’s not very fair to the lovely ladies of Assisi.  The fact of the matter is that when I was young and rich and well-dressed and, as you point out, clean, the young women of Assisi were kept indoors and away from young rebels like me.  They would stay in with their mothers and sisters and aunts, away from all men, young and old.  Especially young single men.  They were guarded against even meeting us.  The only time we saw these beautiful girls was in church.  There, they were surrounded by fathers and brothers.  We might smile at each other, and nod.  But that was all.  We could learn one another’s names and maybe some gossip, but only from married men who knew the fathers and brothers.  The girls, I suppose, learned about us from married sisters and aunts.  

WOLF: That’s all very well, protecting the women and girls.  After all, human girls don’t look very strong.  Certainly not like girl wolves.  I can fight every bit as well as my brothers.  Your girls don’t look like they could hold their own in a battle.

FRANCIS: Not like wolves, perhaps, but the women aren’t all that weak.  You should have seen my mother when she got angry.  I stayed out of her way then.  But remember, there are lots of differences between wolves and people.  We don’t fight the same way.  And we don’t live the same way.   The women of Assisi  are expected to become wives and mothers, not warriors. 

WOLF: But if you never meet, how can you marry?

FRANCIS: Our parents arrange that.  Of course, they have to be of the same social level and both families have to have enough money to make an agreeable arrangement.

WOLF: Oh!  That sounds terrible!  That’s business, not romance.

FRANCIS: Who said anything about romance?  We’re talking about marriage.  These days, in the modern thirteenth century in the Christian country of Italy, marriage is all about business.  At least, that’s true of the upper classes like my family and friends.  That’s one reason I fell in love with Lady Poverty.  I don’t like commerce, remember?  I’m no good at business.  Besides, these days in this country, romance is left to peasants and shepherds. 

WOLF: So, there are no women among your followers?  It’s a men’s club?

FRANCIS: I didn’t say that.  There is one very special woman.

WOLF: I know.  Lady Poverty.  You’ve told me about her.  I mean real people-type women.

FRANCIS: Haven’t you heard about Clare?

WOLF: Oh, yes, but I’ve never seen her.

FRANCIS: You won’t.  She’s secluded, along with her followers.

WOLF: Can’t she come out here and introduce herself like your other followers.  I mean, if she came with her followers, too, wouldn’t that be all right?

FRANCIS: It might be all right.  But she won’t do it.  She and her followers live in San Damiano now, and they stay there all the time.

WOLF: I guess her parents don’t care if she goes out alone.  Or is she a peasant?

FRANCIS: Her family is very rich and influential.  She had heard me speak outside the church, I think.  And had heard from her married girlfriends what my teachings were all about.  She was as devout as she was beautiful and rich.  So, when she learned that her father had found a husband for her, she escaped from the house and came with a lady friend to our house.  Did I tell you the Benedictines gave us a house to live in?  Anyway, we had it all planned, how we would greet Clare.

WOLF: Planned?  You knew she was coming?

(OPEN CURTAIN TO REVEAL ONLY THE CHURCH)

FRANCIS: Someone told me that she wanted to join our little group.  Of course, she couldn’t possibly live among us.  It wouldn’t be proper.  So, we approached the Benedictines who had given us the house for our community.  They agreed to be prepared to receive Clare.  *It started on Palm Sunday.  Clare had wanted to just come to us, but I sent her a message to go to the Palm Sunday service to get her holy palm.  So she did.  She and the other women of her household dressed in their finest clothes and entered the church joyfully.  But when the moment came for them to approach the altar to receive their blessed olive palm, Clare was suddenly seized with shyness and held back.  So, the bishop actually came down the steps and put the palm in her hand.   When I saw that, I knew that the Bishop was on our side.

WOLF: How was that?

FRANCIS: It was the way he looked her, and then glanced at me. 

WOLF: When did she leave her home, though?

FRANCIS: It was the next night, when the family was all in bed, Clare and her lady companion slipped out the side door.

(CLOSE CURTAIN ON CHURCH; OPEN CURTAIN ON FAVORONE HOME TO SHOW SIDE DOOR AND THE FOREST WITH SANTA MARIA DEGLI ANGELI AND THE MONASTERY; MOVE CHURCH TO THE OTHER SIDE OF THE SET.)

WOLF: The side door?  I thought no one ever used the side doors in the big houses.

FRANCIS: That’s almost true.  The side door was kept barred and bolted and was opened only when there was a death in the family.  The death door, you might call it.  It was dark out, of course.  So some of the friars were there to help her through the difficult path from the house and down to Santa Maria degli Angeli.  The friars were all there waiting for her, singing hymns of praise and thanksgiving.  She stood in front of the altar of the Porziuncula and made her holy vow.  She said, “I want only Jesus Christ, and to live by the Gospel, owning nothing, and in chastity.”  Then I cut off her hair.  We had some simple clothes for her to change into, replacing the fine silks with coarse wool.  Her lady companion removed Clare’s lovely white veil of chastity that all unmarried girls wear.  Clare put on the coarse black veil of penance we had for her.  The Benedictine convent at Bastia was ready to welcome her immediately, until we could prepare San Damiano for her.

(Clare removes white veil, and put on black veil)

WOLF: Very exciting, very dramatic, very beautiful...

FRANCIS: Yes.  All of that, and very frightening, too.  Her family was not pleased about this, you know.  In fact, they were furious.  As soon as they learned that she was missing from home, all the men of the family set out to look for her.  It didn’t take them long to figure out that she had come to join me.  Somehow, they found out that she was at the Benedictine convent.  

(men enter with swords)

MEN’S VOICES (off stage, very loud and very angry): Clare!  Come out!  Francis!  What have you done with our daughter?  Clare!  How can you shame us like this?  Come home right now!  How dare you disgrace your family!

FRANCIS:  They went with swords drawn against the nuns of the convent.  Can you imagine?  Shouting at them, demanding she be returned to her home and family.  They said it was a disgrace.  She had shamed the family.  Can you imagine?  How can you be a disgrace when you are giving your life to Jesus Christ?  How can this level of devotion be shaming your family?  Their behaviour was outrageous.  And very frightening.

WOLF: What did you do?  Do you have swords?  Could you fight them off?

FRANCIS: Swords?  What would we do with swords?  I’d had enough of that sort of thing when I was a youth.  We tried to form a barrier between Clare’s relatives and the entrance to the convent, but it was no use.  I think they would have killed us.  We couldn’t fight them.  They forced their way inside.  Clare was brave.  She ran to the altar and clung to it, screaming that she would never go back home.  She was promised to Jesus.  Of course, her family couldn’t understand it.  Or if they understood, they couldn’t accept it.

WOLF: Wait a minute.  I thought they were Christians.  Didn’t they go to the church on Palm Sunday with Clare and the others?

FRANCIS: Yes.  Well, you know, there are Christians and then there are Christians.  Some Christians just like to go to church, maybe because their friends go there.   I’m not saying that’s what the Favorone family was like, but maybe their idea of Christianity did not include such deep devotion as their daughter showed.  And, I understand that Clare’s father had selected a very eligible man to be her husband.  A rich man of a noble family, who would bring more honour and more wealth to the family.  Leaving such a prospect for a life of poverty in the church isn’t a good choice when you have worldly ambitions. 

WOLF: What convinced them to go away?

FRANCIS: Clare’s clinging to the altar wasn’t enough, apparently.  That is, not until she pulled off her black veil of penance and revealed her shorn head.

WOLF: Shorn?  You mean like a sheep?  I know all about sheep, you know.  Shorn!  That’s cut really short.

FRANCIS: Well, I would have given her the tonsure, only I didn’t think that would go over so well in the convent.   You know, this bald circle we friars have?  Clare could be a sister, a nun, but she could never be a brother.  You agree?

WOLF: I suppose so.  It’s obvious why she had to wear that veil.  Shorn!  Really!   Did her family leave her alone after that? 

FRANCIS: Yes.  But we couldn’t be sure that they wouldn’t come back when no one was ready for them, so we moved Clare to another Benedictine convent in another town.  I didn’t like having to do that, but we had no choice.  Her safety was most important.  Still, it was not good having her so far away.

(Clare moves to stage right, to the Benedictine monastery altar.)

WOLF: All right.  So you have one woman follower.  But she’s with the Benedictines.  How can she be a Franciscan?

FRANCIS: Oh, she’s a Franciscan all right.  And she isn’t the only female Franciscan.  Would you believe it?  Soon after Clare joined us, right behind her came her younger sister, Agnes. 

(enter Agnes)

(FRANCIS continues): And again we had the invasion by her relatives, screaming to have the girls returned home.  This time, the men knew that her head would have been shorn, so that wouldn’t shock them into flight.  And Agnes didn’t think to cling to the altar.  But after all, that hadn’t helped Clare last time.

WOLF: Did they take Agnes home with them?  Or, did something else stop them this time.

FRANCIS: This time it was prayer that stopped them.  You’d think that a few strong men would have no trouble lifting up a fifteen-year-old girl and carrying her off.  But Agnes was on her knees praying fervently that God would intervene, if it was his will.  And, I suppose it must have been God’s will to keep the girls, because the men soon gave up trying to lift Agnes.  They just went home empty-handed again.  By this time, San Damiano was ready to house Clare and her sister, so we moved them there right away.  And the others came, too.  San Damiano soon became a lively place, full of devout women.

(enter several nuns)

WOLF: The Benedictine nuns?

FRANCIS: No.  Didn’t I tell you?  Clare’s mother came and joined her, and then several other ladies of Assisi came along, too.  I believe Clare will someday have her rule approved by the pope, but I might not live to see that.  The pope doesn’t like the idea of women living in poverty.  Clare loves Lady Poverty almost as much as I do.  The rule of living in poverty and chastity suits her very well.  In fact, they love poverty so much that they took it in their name.  You’ve never heard of the Poor Clares?

WOLF: Oh!  She’s THAT Clare!  Of course!  I’ve heard of the Poor Clares.  They are very holy women.  So, they are also Franciscans?

FRANCIS: Yes.  They are the Second Order of Franciscans.

WOLF: So, you have two orders.

FRANCIS: Three, actually.

WOLF: I can see there’s more to this story.

CURTAINS CLOSE

Act II scene 3

ACT II

Scene 3  “Franciscan Friars”

Setting:  the road from Assisi to San Damiano. 

CURTAIN OPENS

(Wolf and Francis strolling along the road, occasionally stopping to chat by the side of the road.)

WOLF: Good morning, Brother Francis!  I’m glad you remembered our meeting.  I’m anxious to hear about your freedom.  You said you’d tell me about it.

FRANCIS: Good morning, Sister Wolf.  Yes, I want to continue with my story.  We’re coming to the most important part, I think.  I felt free, but I didn’t know what would come next in my life.  I just gave it all over to God.  I was happy about that, but sad to have said a final good-bye to my family and my former life.  I’d had it pretty good, you know.  I never had to go hungry.  I could play the beggar to see what it was like.  But now it was for real.  If no one gave me food, I’d go hungry.  I could have starved.  But I had left the world once and for all.

WOLF: And your friends?  Didn’t they go with you?  Didn’t they help you?

FRANCIS: No.  Ever since I’d returned from Rome, I’d grown  apart from my friends.  I still love to have fun.  I love singing and dancing, and I still do those things.  But I also spend a lot of time in prayer.  And my favourite companions are the lepers down the hill. 

WOLF: So you went to live in the leper colony?

FRANCIS: Not immediately.  Eventually, though, I spent many hours every day bathing them and tending their sores.

WOLF: Yuck!  How could you bear to do that?

FRANCIS: It took me a while to do it.  I struggled with the horror and repulsion, until I began to find them beautiful.

WOLF: You’re strange. You love poverty and you find ugly sores and deformities beautiful.

FRANCIS (laughing): I suppose you’re right.  But it’s a matter of seeing Christ whenever you look at someone.  What if you saw Jesus begging for food on the streets, dressed in rags?  Wouldn’t you want to feed him and give him decent clothes to wear?  And if you saw him with weeping sores and deformed hands and faces, wouldn’t you want to go to him and comfort him with kisses?

WOLF: Um.  I would probably feed the beggar, but I don’t know about kissing a leper.

FRANCIS: It surprised me, when I actually did kiss a leper.  It surprised him too! (laughs)  But the food people gave me.  That was probably the worst.  I gagged when I tried to eat the scraps of rotten meat and soggy vegetables I was given.  Soon, though, I learned to eat around the worst parts.  Now I hardly notice what’s good and what isn’t.  Of course, I do get sick once in a while.  But it’s better than being rich.

WOLF: Really?  I’ll take your word for it.  But you still haven’t told me where you went to live?  So what, exactly,  did you do when you left Assisi?

FRANCIS: I was on my way to your village, Gubbio.  I was singing.  You know how I love French songs.  I was debating about whether or not to stay at San Damiano and continue working.  But suddenly some robbers jumped me.  I don’t know what they thought they were going to get from me.  I had nothing but an old tunic the Bishop’s gardener had given me as I left Assisi.  The silly fellows asked me who I was.  I was feeling as light as a bird.  So I answered that I was God’s Herald.  Well, they didn’t understand and they had no sense of humour.  So, well, it wasn’t a very good result. 

WOLF: What happened next?

FRANCIS: They beat me up after I gave them everything I had.  That experience helped me make up my mind.  I stayed at San Damiano and continued to beg for stones to build the church.  So, my whole life was praying, begging, building, and tending lepers. 

WOLF: San Damiano looks quite fine now. 

FRANCIS: Yes. Thanks.   I had lots of help, and then I worked on San Pietro and several other ruined churches.  I kept myself very busy for a long time.  Of course, I also attended church services.  The Eucharist is most important to me.  The Gospel messages that meant the most to me were about poverty.  The most important sermon I heard was on February 24^th, the feast of St. Matthias.  The priest read the Gospel and it said something about going to preach that the kingdom of God is at hand, and that we should not have gold or silver or money, not even an extra coat or shoes.  I had a few friends who shared my enthusiasm.  Let me introduce them to you:

(enter Bernard of Quintavalle)

BERNARD: Hello.  My name is Bernard of Quintavalle.  I was very very rich.  I always wondered if Francis was as good as he seemed to be.  You know how people are.  Sometimes they’re good while people are watching.  But as soon as they think no one can see them, it’s a different story.  Well, I decided to test Francis.  I invited him to stay at my house for a few days.  I have a nice big house, but I wanted to watch him.  So, instead of giving him his own bedroom, I had a second bed made up in my own room for him.  At night, he went to bed and pretended to go to sleep.  But I watched, and do you know what he was really doing?

WOLF: I have no idea.  Why don’t you tell me?

BERNARD: He was praying.  Almost all night.  Maybe all night, for all I know, because I fell asleep watching him.  I was so impressed by his honesty and his piety that I wanted to be like him.  I told him that, and that I’d been rich so long that I didn’t know if I could give it away.  It took me a while, but eventually because I was with Brother Francis so much, I had to get rid of the things that were holding me back from being as free and happy as he was.

WOLF: So, then it was just you and Brother Francis.  What did the two of you do together?

BERNARD: There were three of us, really.  I suppose I was the first to join the holy man.  But soon Peter came along.

WOLF: Who’s Peter?

(enter Peter Cattaneo)

PETER : That would be me.  Let me introduce myself.  I’m Peter Cattaneo.  I was never as rich as Bernard here, but I had too much of a good thing, too, you might say.  I had a very good position as canon of the cathedral.  I had all the right education, you see.  I’m a doctor of law.  But for all that, I was never as holy as Brother Francis.  It was clear to me that he was the one to follow if I wanted to learn to be a true Christian. 

WOLF: What did the three of you do, then?

PETER: First we went together to St. Nicholas Church.   Brother Francis went directly to the altar and knelt in prayer.  He never did anything without praying about it first.  I could hear him praying for God’s guidance.  Then he opened the Bible and read a passage from the Gospel of Matthew. 

WOLF: Sorry.  But wolves rarely read the Gospels.  Or anything else for that matter.  Most teachers don’t like us to come into their schools, you see....

PETER: No.  I suppose they don’t.  Can you blame them?

WOLF: I think we were talking about you.

PETER: The Gospel of Matthew, actually.

WOLF: Right.  Was it important?

PETER: The gospels are always important.  This one confirmed what the gospels always said to Brother Francis.  It was another message about poverty—his favourite topic, the love of his life, other than Jesus, that is.  It said that if you want to be perfect, sell whatever you have and give it to the poor.  And to follow Jesus.  Then in the Gospel of Luke, Brother Francis read that we should take nothing for our journey, not even money or food or extra clothes.  I think he’d read that before.  But again in Matthew, we read that followers of Jesus should deny themselves and take up their cross. 

WOLF: I haven’t seen him carry a cross.

PETER: There are many ways we all carry crosses, Sister Wolf.  You have your cross, you know.

WOLF: I do?

PETER: Yes.  Your cross is anything that is difficult to do, or that makes it difficult for you to live the way God wants you to live.  For example, it’s very hard for you to be kind to the people of Gubbio.  To leave their sheep and farms alone. 

WOLF: I see.  What cross did you and Brother Francis have?

PETER: Well, that was the wonderful thing about the first part of the command—to give away our worldly goods.  Once we had done that, our load of worries were gone.   We just had to find people to give us food for ourselves and the lepers, and building stones for the churches.  We could carry Christ’s cross, you might say.

BERNARD: It’s true.  When I was rich, I had so many things that I had to take care of.  I was always worried about being robbed, or losing something valuable.  And I always needed more money to buy more stuff that would show the world how rich I was.  Once I’d given all that stuff away, I didn’t have any of those worries anymore.  I was free to pray with an easy conscience.  It was wonderful.  After all, who needs a lot of useless stuff.  I was free to take on the cross of caring for the lepers—doing God’s work.

WOLF: So the three of you were poor as the lepers you were helping.  How could you help if you were just like them?

BERNARD: We still had our health.  And people weren’t afraid to come near us.  So we could beg for them and look after them.

WOLF: That’s a lot of work for three men.  But there are more of you now, aren’t there?

PETER: Sylvester joined us next.  And for a while we were known as Brother Francis and his Three Companions.

(enter Brother Sylvester)

WOLF: Is this Brother Sylvester?

SYLVESTER: Yes.  I’m Sylvester.  I have to say I’m not proud about the way I came to join the Friars Minor.  That’s what we’re called now, you know.  It means the Little Brothers.  I wasn’t rich or educated like Bernard and Peter here.  My burden was that I was proud and greedy.  And, to make matters worse, I should have known better because I was a priest.

WOLF: What made you change?  Did Brother Francis preach to you?

SYLVESTER: You might say that!  He always says we should preach the Gospel, but use words only when necessary.  Often the most effective preaching is done by example.  And that’s what he did in my case.  You see, it started when I sold him some stones to use in church building.  He had begged the money, of course, but I didn’t give any thought to that.  All I could think of was getting what I thought was a fair price for the stones.  I looked at the money he gave me, and, to my shame, I complained that it wasn’t enough.

WOLF: Oh.  He didn’t like that, I bet.  What did he say?

SYLVESTER: That was just it.  He didn’t say anything.  His silence made me feel embarrassed.  But what he did was even worse—or better, maybe.  Certainly it was more effective.  Rather than preach at me, he simply opened out his money bag and emptied it into my open hands, spilling all the coins he had collected from generous people.  I felt horrible.  I realized how selfish I was.  And how generous he was, and the people who had donated their hard-earned cash to the building of churches. When I finally came and apologized,  Brother Francis kindly accepted me as the third companion. 

FRANCIS: They were the best and most generous friends I could possibly have.  Next came Brother Giles.  He was able to give his cloak to a poor beggar woman. 

(enter Giles)

GILES: It isn’t a bad life, you know.  We have a lot of fun.  We laugh and sing.  People even had a name for us.  They called us God’s Jesters. 

FRANCIS: It was surprising how fast our numbers grew.  The men came from all over.  Come here, men!  Introduce yourselves.

(enter ANGELO, RUFFINO, MASSEO, ILLUMINATO, SABBATINO, JUNIPER, PACIFICO, PHILIP, LEO, JOHN, ELIAS: each comes in and says his name and leaves the stage.)

FRANCIS: Then I realized that we had twelve men and more, and that meant I had something very important to do.  I went to see my friend the bishop in Assisi.  He warned me about our lifestyle.  How dangerous it was to depend on the generosity of people to continue forever.  And, as our numbers were growing, and responsible citizens were giving away their belongings to become homeless beggars, many people were becoming alarmed.  How many would be left who could support us all.  They said it was irresponsible.  I suppose it was.  But what could we do?  We were following the Gospels of Christ. 

WOLF: What did the bishop advise?

FRANCIS: Well, he agreed with me that if we had possessions, we’d have to defend them.  So, that wasn’t the answer.  I decided  to go to Rome and get the Pope’s blessing on our rule of life.  But it wasn’t easy to get to see the pope, you know.   You can’t just go and knock on the door of the Vatican and ask to chat with him.  I saw him on the street one day, and I tried to talk to him.  But he had many people around him to protect him.  It was impossible.  But it was so important.  I couldn’t just go home.

WOLF: If it was impossible, then how did you manage it?  I assume you did get to see the pope?

FRANCIS: You could call it luck, or a coincidence. But I prefer to call it God’s intervention.  It just happened that my old friend, Bishop Guido, was in Rome and had connections.  Because, I just sat outside the Vatican and waited.  And suddenly, one of the guards came and told me that the pope wanted to see me.  Imagine!  The pope actually asked to see me.

WOLF: How had he heard of you?

FRANCIS: I don’t know if Bishop Guido told him about me, or if he had seen me from his window.  But I later learned that he had had a bad dream about me.  He dreamt that the beautiful big church, the Lateran, was falling down around him, and I was a pillar holding the roof up.  That’s when he called me in to speak to him.

WOLF: I don’t get it.  Were you the cause of the building falling down?

FRANCIS: No. I was the pillar holding it up.  Me.  A beggar at his door.  So he sent for me.

WOLF: Did you get dressed up in fine clothes to go and speak to him.  He’s a pretty important fellow, I hear.

FRANCIS: Very important!  And I went, as I was,  to see him in his court, with all the cardinals around him.  There he was, Pope Innocent, sitting on his throne, waiting for me to tell him what I had on my mind.  I could hardly speak for trembling.    Then, God gave me the strength and voice to tell the pope about what my friends and I had been doing at San Damiano and the other churches around Assisi.  I told him about our giving up all wealth and exchanging our fine clothes for beggars’ clothes.  I told him about our begging for food for ourselves and for the lepers we care for.  I asked him to bless our work, and to allow us to have this lifestyle as our rule of life.  I even dared to remind His Holiness that we were living life as Jesus commanded us in the Gospels.

WOLF: If you call him “His Holiness”, he could hardly refuse.  It was a done deal.  I guess you just said thank you very much and went home.

FRANCIS: You might have thought so.  But it wasn’t that easy.  Most of the cardinals were against what I was doing.  They agreed with the citizens of Assisi that our way of life was irresponsible.  One of the cardinals spoke up for us, though.  He pointed out that if the Pope rejected us because our lifestyle was too difficult, then that would mean that the church was saying that it was impossible to follow Jesus.  That would be blasphemy against Christ.  In the end, Pope Innocent dismissed me saying, “Go my brother, and as the Lord inspires you, preach repentance to everyone.  When God has multiplied you in numbers and grace, come to me again rejoicing and I will grant you more than this.”  I was thrilled.  I hurried out of the Vatican afraid he might call me back and change his mind.  As I left the great hall, I heard him say to his cardinals, “Truly this is the pious and holy man who shall restore the Church of God.”  I came home the happiest man alive, with my beloved bride Lady Poverty and her beautiful sisters, Obedience, Simplicity and Trust.   

CURTAIN CLOSES

End of Act II

Act II scene 2

ACT II

Scene 2 “Lady Poverty”

The forest near Assisi

CURTAIN REMAINS CLOSED

WOLF & FRANCIS standing centre-stage

WOLF: I suppose your year in prison was what changed you into the holy man you are now.

FRANCIS: I wasn’t that wise.  No, as soon as I was well, I wanted to go back to war again.  I wanted to wear armour and wield a sword and ride a fast horse.  As I told you before, it was not easy for me to change my ways.  And my father still gave me everything I wanted.  There was another war starting up, this time in Rome.  The pope was calling for volunteers to fight for his cause.  Again, my father came through with wonderful clothes, armour and a sword, and a great horse.  Oh, I was sure I was an impressive sight, and I made sure everyone knew I was off to become a war hero.  Instead, I came home in disgrace.

WOLF: You ran away from the fighting?

FRANCIS : Well, yes and no.  But that’s how my friends and family saw it.

WOLF: Oh dear!

FRANCIS: It was the best thing that ever happened to me—almost. 

WOLF: I don’t understand.  What happened?

FRANCIS: It’s hard to explain, because people sometimes don’t understand.  But I think it won’t be a problem for you.

WOLF: Why should I be any different?

FRANCIS: Because you aren’t a human being.  No offence!  In this case, I mean it is an advantage.  It’s simply that I heard a voice.  Not an out loud voice.  It’s a bit like the conversation you and I are having.  Not many people would believe that a man and a wolf could chat the way we do. 

WOLF: True.  I hardly believe it myself.  So where did this voice come from?

FRANCIS: I heard the voice of Jesus, but I heard it more in my heart than in my head.

WOLF: Oh.  Yes.  I think I do understand.

FRANCIS: You see, I was heading for Rome to serve the Pope.  As pope, like any other priest, he’s a servant of God.  So, my ambition was to be a servant of a servant.  Jesus pointed this out.  He asked me which was better, to serve the lord or the servant of the lord.  Of course, I answered that it was better to serve the lord.  So, Jesus asked me why I was going to serve the servant. 

WOLF: Good question.  What did you answer?

FRANCIS: I had no answer.  So, I asked Jesus what he wanted me to do.  It was really hard, because he told me to go home.  I knew how it would be.  Everyone would call me a coward.  They would think, just as you did, that I was running away from the fighting.  Really, though, I think it took more courage for me to go home like that than it would have done for me to face the most ferocious warriors.  So, I exchanged clothes with a soldier who didn’t have any armour, and I gave him my horse, and walked back to Assisi.

WOLF: Uh-oh!  You gave away your horse? 

FRANCIS: I know.  I would be in trouble for that, no doubt. At first, though, I was more worried about the disgrace of coming home.

WOLF: But your friends and family would believe you, wouldn’t they?  You just had to tell them that Jesus was talking to you, and...

FRANCIS: Oh sure!  Like they’d believe that!  No, all my friends laughed at me, and called me a coward.  That was my first lesson in humility.  That’s one of the most important lessons I’ve ever learned. I’ve had refresher lessons, frequently.  I always look forward to learning more about humility.  I love it almost as much as poverty.  I love poverty so much that I married her.

WOLF: You did WHAT???  Did I hear you right?  Did you say that you’re married?  I didn’t know that.  Who’s Lady Poverty? 

FRANCIS: My bride.  I can’t imagine living without her.  She’s my life.  My friends noticed my distraction.  They asked me if I was in love, so I told them I was.  I said I was planning to take a bride, and that she was the most noble and beautiful bride in the world.  They didn’t understand.

WOLF: Okay.  I don’t understand either, but I’ll bite.

FRANCIS : You’ll what?  Sister Wolf, did you say you’ll bite?

WOLF: I didn’t mean that.  I’d never bite you, Brother Francis!  I meant, I’ll go along with you, even if I don’t get it.  So, all right.  Where did you meet this, um, bride called Lady Poverty?

FRANCIS: I’d seen her many times in my life.  You know, beggars and lepers.  But when I got back from my attempt to go to Rome to be a knight, I continued to hang around with my friends.  We continued our pranks and partying.  But, one day I was helping my father at the cloth stall.  Remember, I did that before.  But I always had my father with me.  This time, he had gone on one of those business trips, and I was in charge.  Just me, all by myself, in charge of all his merchandise and all the money.  Other than that, it was just the same as the last time.  You know, when I sent away the beggar who asked me in the name of Christ for alms. 

WOLF: Did the beggar come back?

FRANCIS: I don’t know if he was the same one, but that didn’t matter.  It was Lady Poverty I recognized.  I knew her immediately and fell in love.  At first, I sent the beggar away the way I did the first time.  Then, as he was walking away, I was determined not to lose him in the crowd again.  I got on my new horse and followed him, taking the money box with me.  I gave him all the money and I even gave him my horse, the one my father had just given me to replace the last one, and exchanged clothes with beggar.  Then to make it worse, if that’s possible, I went back to the stall and gave away all the cloth to everyone who asked for it.  It was so freeing, so liberating, an amazing feeling that I’d never felt before.  It changed me.

WOLF: It changed you?  But I thought you went back to your old ways.

FRANCIS: Well, I told my friends that I was going to marry Lady Poverty.  They really laughed at me.  My father wasn’t laughing, though. He was sure I was going to drive him into Poverty.  So, when I was giving all the money and things to the beggars, especially when I gave away the horse and my wonderful clothes, then that was the last straw.

WOLF: I bet your father was furious!  What did he do?  Did he beat you?

FRANCIS: Yes.  Eventually.  And worse than that. 

WOLF: What did you do?

FRANCIS: Well, at first, I was so scared that I ran away.  I hid in the woods for several days, hoping he would go away again on one of his business trips.  It was really hard.  It isn’t easy to stay for days at a time in the woods, you know.

WOLF: It’s not so bad.  I’ve done it.  Most of my friends do it all the time.

FRANCIS: I’m not a wolf.

WOLF: Oh. Right.  I guess that makes a difference.  So how long did you stay in the woods?

FRANCIS: A short time only.  I knew about a little church.  Do you know San Damiano?  It’s about a twenty-minute walk from Assisi, on the way to Gubbio. 

WOLF: I know the place. 

FRANCIS: Well,  I had found that little church some months before.  The first time I went in, I knelt in front of the altar and prayed.  There wasn’t much there, you know.  It was just pile of stones, really.  There was a priest in charge, but everything was a mess.  So, I knelt in front of the crucifix that was above the stone altar.  I was alone and scared, wondering what my father would do to me when he got home.  So I had a lot to pray about.  But then, I found myself saying  something like this:   “Great and glorious God, and you my Lord Jesus Christ, I ask you to illuminate the darkness of my heart, and give me pure faith, firm hope and perfect charity, that I may know you and always act according to your holy will.” 

WOLF: Very nice prayer.  Do you think God will answer your prayer? 

FRANCIS: Jesus answered right away.

WOLF: More voices in your heart?

FRANCIS: This time Jesus spoke from the Crucifix above the altar, and I heard his voice.  He said very plainly that he wanted me to repair his church because it’s in ruins.

WOLF: And you did that.  I remember hearing all about that.  You used to beg for stones, didn’t you?

FRANCIS: Um.  Yes.  But in the beginning, I just used my father’s money.

WOLF: He gave you money for repairing the church?

FRANCIS: Um. Not exactly.  Remember, I told you that I am a sinner like everyone else.  I confess that I stole that money from my father.  I didn’t think of it as stealing because I believed that the money really belonged to God and so it was all right to use it to repair God’s house.  Now, of course, I realize that I should have asked my father for that money.  He always gave me everything I wanted.  I’m sure he would have given it to me if I had asked.  Maybe everything would have been different if I had asked him.

WOLF : Everything?  Why is that?

FRANCIS: Well, if he had given me all the money I needed to repair the church, then I wouldn’t have stolen it, and he wouldn’t have been angry with me, and maybe I wouldn’t have taken the road I’m on.  I might just be a cloth merchant like my father.

WOLF: Possibly.  Do you really think you could have done that?  Would you be as successful as he is?

FRANCIS: Probably not.  I think I just would have given everything away.  Maybe I’d have married Lady Poverty anyway. (laughs)  That would be fine with me.

WOLF: No, I can’t see you as a successful businessman.  But you say you went back home?  What happened then?

FRANCIS: I didn’t exactly go home willingly.  I went into Assisi to beg for more building stones, thinking my father was out of town.  What a mistake that was!  *He was in Assisi and he saw me begging.  I don’t know what made him angrier, my having stolen from him or my begging in the streets.  He’s a proud man, you know.  He always treated me like a prince.  And there I was begging.  He grabbed me by the neck and dragged me home.  There’s a cellar under the house, and he locked me in there.

WOLF: You mean for an hour or two.  That must have been boring.

FRANCIS: An hour or two?  Try a week or two!  It was exactly like being in prison again.  I don’t know how long he thought he could keep me locked up.  It’s a good thing he had to go away on business again, because my mother let me out as soon as he was out of town.  I ran away again, back to San Damiano and went back to begging for stones so I could repair the church.  Only now, I had to beg for my food, too.  I couldn’t risk going back home for anything.

WOLF: You never went home again?

FRANCIS: That’s how it turned out.  I saw my father only once again.  I saw him watching me while I was begging.  What I didn’t see was that he had sent a few of his men to catch me.  This time it was really serious.

WOLF: More serious than being locked away in a cellar?

(CURTAIN OPENS onto Assisi town square; Bishop, Pietro & Pica Bernadone, villagers and teenage Francis in rich clothes [removable])

FRANCIS: Yes.  More serious than that.  My father took me to court.  He knew he couldn’t win a civil suit against me, so he took me to the ecclesiastical court.

WOLF: The what?

FRANCIS: Ecclesiastical...um, church court.

WOLF: I didn’t know the church had a court.

FRANCIS: Oh yes. Trying me in the church court meant that instead of being tried by a judge or magistrate, I was to be judged by the bishop.

WOLF: Were you found guilty?

FRANCIS: Well, of course.  I was guilty.  My father didn’t want me punished.  He was suing me for the return of his money, the merchandise I’d given away, and the horse I’d given to that beggar.  The bishop had no choice but to agree that I should pay it all back.  And, to be honest, I had to agree.

WOLF: What did you do?

FRANCIS: When my father was declared the winner, I promised I would make good everything I owed him.  Then  I went one step further, and surprised everyone.

WOLF: Everyone?  Who was there?

FRANCIS: We were in the main plaza of the town. Everyone was there. My friends and their families, my parents’ friends, my father’s customers, everyone.  So, you can see my father was thoroughly embarrassed.  At first, when I was called before the court everyone was against me.  People were jeering at me.  But when it was over, my poor father was the one being jeered.

WOLF: If he won the court case, why did people jeer him?  Were they really on your side?

FRANCIS: It seems they approved of my actions.  They were very dramatic, I suppose.  Shocking, in fact.

WOLF: What did the bishop think of all this?  What did he say?

FRANCIS: I don’t remember that he said anything at all.  But the bishop was a little disturbed that I’d taken off all my clothes, because he quickly wrapped me up in something and told my father that I was now answerable only to the church.  And it’s been that way ever since.

(CURTAIN CLOSES)

WOLF: What about you and your father and your family?

FRANCIS: That’s the sad part.  I haven’t had any contact with any of them.  I miss them, but that’s the sacrifice I had to make.  You see, I couldn’t promise not to give money to beggars.  I didn’t want to have anything to do with making money and more money just for the purpose of making money.  Money is fine if it’s to help other people.  But money really isn’t worth anything at all.

WOLF: I can’t say I’ve ever had any use for it.  But what did you do?  Where did you live?  Did you go and live with the bishop?

FRANCIS: No.  The bishop understood that I didn’t want to live in a bishop’s palace.  I left Assisi.  I walked away, down the hill and into the field to San Damiano.  I slept there in the rubble.  It wasn’t very comfortable, but I was free.

WOLF: Free to do what?

FRANCIS: (yawn)  It’s getting late.  Why don’t I tell you about that in the morning? I promised you dinner, didn’t I?  You’ll find something behind the church.  See you tomorrow, Sister Wolf.

(Wolf & Francis leave the stage on opposite sides.)

Act II scene i

ACT II

Scene 1: Troubadours, Knights & Prisoners

Setting: Assisi town square

FRANCIS (standing off stage or on one side of the stage): Was that one of your friends from Gubbio?  Or does he live here in Assisi?  He looks a little familiar.

WOLF (standing beside FRANCIS): He lives around here.  He’s a peasant, a shepherd I suppose.

FRANCIS: Really?  A shepherd?  And he’s a friend of yours?

WOLF: Not a friend, exactly.  He caught me looking at his sheep, and..., well, ...

FRANCIS: I see.  You weren’t..., I mean, you didn’t...?

WOLF: Oh no!  I wasn’t!  I didn’t!  I wouldn’t!

FRANCIS: Well, I hope not.  But, he’s not from Gubbio, is he?

WOLF: No.  I quite like the arrangement we have at Gubbio.  It would be nice to have the same situation here in Assisi.  But the people don’t know me here.  I’ve changed, you know.

FRANCIS: I hope so.  It is possible to change.  A lot of people don’t believe that, but it’s true.  People—and wolves, even—can change their behaviour, if they really want to.

WOLF: It’s easier with some help, though.

FRANCIS: Yes.  Everything is easier with help from others.  That’s what is meant by “love thy neighbour”, it means help one another to be good.

WOLF: You were going to tell me about how you changed from bad to good.  I can’t imagine you being bad!  Who helped you? 

FRANCIS: I had a lot of help, but at first I didn’t see it as help.  My father helped me, but I’m sure he didn’t see it that way.  And at the time, neither did I.  The church helped me a lot, too.  But most of all I’d have to say that God helped me change.  It wasn’t easy, though.  I had a lot to learn, before I could see any changes in myself.

WOLF: How did it happen, then?  What did you do?

CURTAIN RISES: Richly dressed, rowdy teenagers on stage, noisy, laughing, dancing, singing loudly: the loudest one is young Francis.

FRANCIS (watching the scene on the stage): I suppose it all started when I was a young lad in my teens.  I was quite a handful.  My parents spoiled me.  I could have anything I wanted.  My father was rich.  He was a cloth merchant, you know.  He traveled a lot on business, and my mother adored me.  She let me do anything I wanted.   So that’s what I did.  Anything I wanted!

WOLF (watching the activity on the stage): What did you do that was so bad?

FRANCIS: Nothing really bad.  I had lots of friends, and we partied a lot.  We strolled the streets, making lots of noise.  Maybe some of us were rude to some people.   And maybe we had too much wine.  When people saw us on the streets at night, some of them would cross over to the other side, or maybe take another road home.  But lots of people enjoyed our music and our jokes.  We wouldn’t have hurt anyone, you understand.  We played pranks, but we weren’t bandits, or anything like that.  Just noisy teenagers, having fun.

WOLF: Hmm.  Rowdy kids, eh?

FRANCIS: Maybe.  But harmless.  Not bad kids.  And, you know what?  I was the ringleader.  That’s right!  Me!  I was the one who thought of ringing the church bells an hour early on some Sundays, getting all the priests in a tizzy, thinking they’d slept in. 

WOLF: Now, I certainly can imagine you doing that.  Mischievous but not bad. 

FRANCIS: And you should have seen my clothes!  I had all the best of everything.  Some folks said I was dressed like a prince.  And I suppose I was. 

WOLF: I can’t imagine that.  You always wear that, well that thing.  Just an old tunic.

FRANCIS: That’s true.  But I’ve changed, remember.  When I was younger, I wore what my family supplied for me.  My father was really rich.  Still is, I suppose.  I haven’t seen him in many years.  But I hear he’s still doing very well. 

WOLF: Didn’t your father want you to go into the same business he was in? 

FRANCIS: Certainly.  I had to go to school to learn to read and write and do numbers so I could work in the shop.  And when I got into my teens, I often had to man the shop while my father was away on business.  That was a disaster!

WOLF: A disaster?  Couldn’t you do it?  I’ve been around when the merchants were selling things in their stalls and shops.  Selling cloth in a shop doesn’t look hard.  Did you make mistakes giving change?  Couldn’t do your numbers very well?

FRANCIS: I could do my numbers.  In fact, you might say I could do them too well.  I could see how much profit my father was making and how rich he was getting day after day.

WOLF: That’s all right, isn’t it?  He was making the money honestly, wasn’t he?  He wasn’t a thief like me.

FRANCIS: Like you used to be, you mean.  He was an honest man.  He was a good man, but there were lots of people who didn’t have enough money to buy food or find a place to live.  One day, I was helping my father.  It was a very busy time.  Lots of customers were pushing and shoving, trying to get to the best bolts of material.  And a beggar chose that very moment to come and ask for money.

ENTER: BEGGAR, begging for money at Francis’ stall.  

Young Francis shoos him away.

WOLF: So what did you do?

FRANCIS: I’m so ashamed.  My father was very busy with two customers, trying to get a better price for their cloth.  I was helping with another couple of customers.  Without even thinking, I just told the beggar to go away.  I wasn’t even nice about it.  I almost chased him away.

WOLF: Did he go?

FRANCIS: Oh, yes!  He went away.  I’ll never forget that bent over sad-looking old man, shuffling along the street.  I watched him for a moment, then I left the stall and ran after him, but lost him in the crowd.  I promised myself I’d never let that happen again.

(CURTAIN CLOSES)

WOLF (still standing with Francis, off to one side of the stage): Oh, but you’re so good.  So I bet it never happened again.

FRANCIS (still standing with Sister Wolf): I wasn’t good, though.  That’s the point.  And it did happen again.  But that time, my father wasn’t home.  He was away at one of those European trade fairs he liked to go to.  That’s where he made most of his money.  But that didn’t stop him from being really angry at what I did.  It was a few years later, and I was really old enough to know better.  But there had been some changes in my life.  In everyone’s lives, in fact.

WOLF: What happened?

FRANCIS: We had a war again, and I still wanted the glory of being a heroic knight.

WOLF: Really? 

(CURTAIN OPENS: Same teenagers with armour and swords engage other teens in a battle at bridge near Perugia)

FRANCIS: When I was a young man, I saw war as very glamorous.  I imagined myself dressed in armour, riding a horse and wielding my sword.  My father supplied all the things I needed to fulfill my dream.  So, all dressed up like a knight in shining armour, I galloped through the gate out of Assisi and headed towards our enemy, the town of Perugia.  I found out quickly that it wasn’t really so glamorous.  In fact, it was terrible.  You see, Assisi had declared war on Perugia, and we thought we had the element of surprise.  It was only about thirty kilometres from here to there, but the land is so hilly that it’s not possible to go in a straight line.  We were really excited and noisy and by the time we came to the bridge at the foot of the hill that leads up to Perugia, we were already tired.  And the soldiers of Perugia had heard we were coming and they had only a short trot down the hill to the bridge.  That’s where it all ended.

(Teenaged knights battle [Assisi vs Perugia].  Perugians win, take Assisians as prisoners. 

All exit the stage.)

(CURTAIN CLOSES)

WOLF: What do you mean?

FRANCIS: We were taken captive.

WOLF: Was it really terrible? 

FRANCIS: It was bad.  But, you know, I always felt that it wasn’t as bad for me as it was for the others.  You know how I love singing and acting the clown.  I was able to make some of the guys laugh.  But for some people it was really miserable.  I tried to make it better for them.   It wasn’t easy to keep it up for a whole year, though.  That’s how long we were there.  There wasn’t much in the way of food.  And there was no medical help if we got sick.  And I did get sick, really sick.  By the time I got out, I needed a stick to help me walk.

WOLF: I bet you were glad to get out of there, though.  How did that happen?

FRANCIS: The war ended, so the Perugians let us all go home. 

WOLF: You must have been really happy, even if you were sick.  Did you ride home in your wonderful clothes? 

FRANCIS: After a year of sleeping in them?  We didn’t have beds, you know.  And they kept my horse.  No, going home was a much quieter affair.  It was a long walk.  And, for the first time in my life, I found no joy in the beauty of nature.  I found no joy at all. 

(CURTAIN OPENS: teenaged knights now in tatters, bowed down, miserable faces, cross the stage and exit slowly.) 

(CURTAIN CLOSES.)