Death of Robert of Molesme
The monks of Molesme Abbey gather around the deathbed of their revered founder, Robert of Molesme, as he breathes his last. The infirmary is filled with whispered prayers and the scent of incense, mar
Setting
Molesme Abbey, a Benedictine monastery in rural France. The scene is set in the abbey's infirmary, a small, austere room with stone walls and a high, vaulted ceiling. The room is dimly lit, with a single narrow window allowing a sliver of daylight to enter. The air is thick with the scent of herbs and incense.
Characters
Robert of Molesme
primary
An elderly man in his late 70s with a gaunt, weathered face framed by a wispy white beard. His sunken eyes still hold a sharp, spiritual intensity despite his weakened state. His hands, resting on the rough woolen blanket, are thin with prominent veins and calloused from decades of manual labor.
Prior
primary
A middle-aged man with a gaunt, ascetic face marked by deep-set eyes and a prominent nose, his receding hairline revealing a tonsured crown. His hands are calloused from years of manual labor, yet his fingers are long and delicate, accustomed to turning the pages of sacred texts. His posture is erect, yet slightly hunched from years of bowing in prayer.
Infirmarian
secondary
A middle-aged monk with a gaunt face and deep-set eyes, framed by a closely shaved tonsure. His hands are rough and calloused from years of tending to the sick, yet they move with practiced gentleness.
Novice Monk
secondary
A young man in his late teens, slender and of average height, with a clean-shaven face and short, dark hair cropped in the monastic tonsure. His wide, expressive eyes betray his youth and inexperience. His hands are pale and delicate, unused to hard labor.
Dialog
Robert of Molesme
Filii... the vines must be pruned hard if they are to bear good fruit... as our Rule commands...
Prior
Pater noster, we are listening. The vineyard you planted shall be tended as you taught us. 'Memento Domine...'
Robert of Molesme
Non Cluniacum... not the old ways... the true poverty...
Prior
Sic, Domine Robertus. We shall keep the strict observance. 'Sicut cervus...' as the deer pants for water...
Robert of Molesme
Deus... in manus tuas... the sheep... who will tend my sheep...?
Prior
Dominus providebit. The good shepherd provides. We shall not fail you, holy father.