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Act IV
The Palace in Antioch. Before the hills.
Cleopatra's chamber. Cleopatra, Zoyla.
CLEOPATRA Will he not come this morning? How my head aches! Zoyla, smooth the pain out of it, my girl, With your deft fingers. Oh, he lingers, lingers! Cleone keeps him still, the rosy harlot Who rules him now. She is grown a queen and reigns Insulting me in my own palace. Yes, He's happy in her arms; why should he care for me Who am only his mother? ¨ ZOYLA Is the pain less at all?
CLEOPATRA O, it goes deeper, deeper. Ever new revels, While still the clang of fratricidal war Treads nearer to his palace. Zoyla, You saw him with Cleone in the groves That night of revel?
ZOYLA So I told you, madam. It is long since Daphne's groves have gleamed so bright
Page – 271 Or trembled to such music.
CLEOPATRA They were together?
ZOYLA Oh, constantly. One does not see such lovers.
CLEOPATRA (shaking her off ) Go! ¨ ZOYLA Madam?
CLEOPATRA Thy touch is not like Rodogune's Nor did her gentle voice offend me. Eunice, Zoyla retires. Why hast thou left me, cruel cold Eunice? She walks to the window and returns swiftly. God's spaces frighten me. I am so lonely In this great crowded palace. Timocles enters the room reading a despatch. TIMOCLES He rushes onward like a god of war. Mountains and streams and deserts waterless Are grown our foes, his helpers. The gods give ground Before his horse-hooves. Millions of men arrayed in complete steel Cannot restrain him. Almost we hear in Antioch His trumpets now. Only Nicanor and the hills Hardly protect my crown, my brittle crown!
CLEOPATRA Antiochus comes!
Page – 272 TIMOCLES The Macedonian legions Linger somewhere upon the wide Aegean. Sea And land contend against my monarchy. Your brother sends no certain word.
CLEOPATRA It will come. Could not the Armenian helpers stay his course? They came like locusts.
TIMOCLES But are swept away As with a wind. O mother, fatal mother, Why did you keep me from the battle then? My presence might have spurred men's courage on And turned this swallowing fate. It is alone Your fault if I lose crown and life.
CLEOPATRA My son!
TIMOCLES There, mother, I have made you weep. I love you, Dear mother, though I make you often weep.
CLEOPATRA I have not blamed you, my sweet Timocles. I did the wrong. Go to the field, dear son, And show yourself to Syria. Timocles, I mean no hurt, but now, only just now, Would not a worthier presence at your side Assist you? My royal brother of Macedon Would give his child to you at my desire, Or you might have your fair Egyptian cousin Berenice. Syria would honour you, my son.
Page – 273 TIMOCLES I know your meaning. You are so jealous, mother. Why do you hate Cleone, grudging me The solace of her love? I shall lose Syria And I have lost already Rodogune: Cleone clings to me. Nor is her heart Like yours, selfish and jealous.
CLEOPATRA Timocles!
TIMOCLES (walking to the window) O Rodogune, where hast thou taken those eyes, My moonlit midnight, where that wondrous hair In which I thought to live as in a cloud Of secret sweetness? Under the Syrian stars Somewhere thou liest in my brother's arms, Thy pale sweet happy face upon his breast Smiling up to be kissed. O, it is hell, The thought is hell! At midnight in the silence I wake in warm Cleone's rosy clasp To think of thee embraced; then in my blood A fratricidal horror works. Let it not be, You gods! Let me die first, let him be king. O mother, do not let us quarrel any more: Forgive me and forget.
CLEOPATRA You go from me?
TIMOCLES My heart is heavy. I will drink awhile And hear sweet harmonies.
CLEOPATRA There in the hall And with Cleone?
Page – 274 TIMOCLES Let it not anger you. Yes, with Cleone. He goes. CLEOPATRA I am alone, so terribly alone! Page – 275 A hall in the Palace. Phayllus, Theras.
THERAS His fortune holds.
PHAYLLUS He has won great victories And stridden exultant like a god of death Over Grecian, Syrian and Armenian slain; But being mortal at each step has lost A little blood. His veins are empty now. Where will he get new armies? His small force May beat Nicanor's large one, even reach Antioch, To find the Macedonian there. They have landed. He is ours, Theras, this great god of tempest, Our captive whom he threatens, doomed to death While he yet conquers. Timocles enters with Cleone, then the musicians and dancing-girls. TIMOCLES Bring in the wine and flowers; sit down, sit down. Call in the dancers. Through the Coan robes Let their bright flashing limbs assault my eyes Capturing the hours, imprisoning my heart In a white whirl of movement. Sit, Cleone. Here on my breast, against my shoulder! You rose Petalled and armed, you burden of white limbs Made to be kissed and handled, you Cleone! Yes, let the world be flowers and flowers our crown
Page – 276 With rosy linkings red as our own hearts Of passion. O wasp soft-settling, poignant, sting, Sting me with bliss until I die of it.
PHAYLLUS I do not like this violence. Theras, go. Theras leaves the hall. TIMOCLES Drink, brother Phayllus. Your webs will glitter more brightly, You male Arachne. More wine! I'll float my heart out in the wine And pour all on the ground to naked Eros As a libation. I will hide my heart In roses, I will smother thought with jonquils. Sing, someone to me! sing of flowers, sing mere Delight to me far from this troubled world. Song Will you bring cold gems to crown me, Child of light? Rather quick from breathing closes Bring me sunlight, myrtles, roses, Robe me in delight. Give me rapture for my dress, For its girdle happiness.
TIMOCLES Closer, Cleone; pack honey into a kiss. Another song! you dark-browed Syrian there! Song Wilt thou snare Love with rosy brightness To make him stay with thee? The petulant child of a fair, cruel mother, He flees from me to crown another. O misery! Love cannot be snared, love cannot be shared; Light love ends wretchedly.
Page – 277 TIMOCLES Remove these wine-cups! tear these roses down! Who snared me with these bonds? Take hence, thou harlot, Thy rose-faced beauty! Thou art not Rodogune.
CLEONE What is this madness?
TIMOCLES Hence! leave me! I am sick Of thy gold and roses.
PHAYLLUS Go, women, from the room; The King is ill. Go, girl, leave him to me. All go, Cleone reluctantly, leaving Phayllus with Timocles. TIMOCLES I will not bear it any more. Give me my love Or let me die.
PHAYLLUS In a few nights from this Thou shalt embrace her.
TIMOCLES Silence! It was not I. What have I said? It was the wine that spoke. Look not upon me with those eyes of thine.
PHAYLLUS The wine or some more deep insurgent spirit Burns in thy blood. Thou shalt clasp Rodogune.
TIMOCLES Thy words, thy looks appal me. She's my brother's wife Sacred to me.
Page – 278 PHAYLLUS His wife? Who wedded them? For not in camps and deserts Syria's kings Accomplish wedlock. She's his concubine. Slave-girl she is and bed-mate of thy brother And may be thine. Or if she were his soul-close wife, Death rends all ties.
TIMOCLES I will not shed his blood. Silence, thou tempter! he is sacred to me.
PHAYLLUS Thou needst not stain thy hands, King Timocles. Be he live flesh or carrion, she is thine.
TIMOCLES Yet has she lain between my brother's arms.
PHAYLLUS What if she were thy sister, should that bar thee From satisfaction of thy heart and body?
TIMOCLES Do you not tremble when you say such things?
PHAYLLUS We have outgrown these thoughts of children, king: Nor gods nor ghosts can frighten us. You shake At phantoms of opinion or you feign To start at such, forgetting what you are. The royal house of Egypt heeds them not, Where you were nursed. Your mother sprang from incest. If in this life you lose your Rodogune, Are others left where you may have her bliss? Your brother thought not so, but took her here.
Page – 279 TIMOCLES I'll not be tempted by thee.
PHAYLLUS No, by thyself Be tempted and the thought of Rodogune. Or shall we leave her to her present joys? Perhaps she sleeps yet by Antiochus Or held by him to sweeter vigilance —
TIMOCLES (furiously)
Accursed ruffian, give her to my arms. Use fair means or use foul, use steel, use poison, But free me from these inner torments.
PHAYLLUS From more Than passion's injuries. Trust thy fate to me Who am its guardian. He goes out. TIMOCLES I am afraid, afraid! What furies out of hell have I aroused Within, without me? Let them do their will. For I must have her once between my arms, Though Heaven leap down in lightnings.
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Before the Syrian hills. Antiochus' tent. Antiochus, Thoas, Leosthenes, Philoctetes.
PHILOCTETES This is Phayllus' work, the Syrian mongrel. Who could have thought he'ld raise against us Greece And half this Asia?
ANTIOCHUS He has a brain.
THOAS We feel it. This fight's our latest and one desperate chance Still smiles upon our fate.
ANTIOCHUS Nicanor yields it us Scattering his armies; for if we can seize Before he gathers in his distant strengths This middle pass, Antioch comes with it. So I find it best and think the gods do well Who put before us one decisive choice Not lingering out their vote in balanced urns, Not tediously delaying strenuous fate, — Either to conquer with one lion leap Or end in glorious battle.
THOAS We ask no better; With you to triumph or die beside you taking
Page – 281 The din of joyous battle in our ears, Following your steps into whatever world.
PHILOCTETES Have we not strength enough to enforce retreat Like our forefathers through the Asian vasts To Susa or the desert or the sea Or Ptolemy in Egypt, — thence returning With force of foreign levies, if Phayllus Draw even the distant Roman over here, Dispute with him the world?
ANTIOCHUS No, Philoctetes. With native swords I sought my native crown, Which if I win not upon Syria's hills A hero's death is mine. Make battle ready. Our bodies are the dice we throw again On the gods' table. Page – 282 The same. Antiochus, Eunice, Rodogune.
ANTIOCHUS I put my hand on Antioch. Thou hast done well, O admirable quick Theramenes. This fight was lionlike.
EUNICE And like the lion Thou art, my warrior, thou canst now descend Upon Seleucus' city. How new 'twill seem After the mountains and the starlit skies To sleep once more in Antioch!
RODOGUNE I trust the stars And mountains better. They were kind to me. My blood within me chills when I look forward And think of Antioch.
ANTIOCHUS These are the shadows from a clouded past Which shall not be repeated, Rodogune. This is not Antioch that thou knewst, the prison Of thy captivity, thou enterest now, Not Antioch of thy foes, but a new city And thy own kingdom.
RODOGUNE Are the gods so good?
Page – 283 ANTIOCHUS The gods are strong; they love to test our strength Like armourers hammering steel. Therefore 'twas said That they are jealous. No, but high and stern Demanding greatness from the great; they strike At every fault they see, perfect themselves Labour at our perfection. What rumour increases Approaching from the mountains? Thoas, thou? Thoas enters. Thy brow is dark. Is it Theramenes? Returns our fortune broken?
THOAS Broken and fallen. We who are left bring back Theramenes Upon whose body twenty glorious wounds Smile at defeat.
ANTIOCHUS Theramenes before me! How have you kept me lying in my tent! I thought our road was clear of foemen.
THOAS The gods Had other resources that we knew not of. Within the passes, on the summit couch The spears of Macedon. They have arrived From the sea, from Antioch.
ANTIOCHUS The Macedonians! Then Our day is ended; we must think of night. We reach our limit, Thoas.
THOAS That's if we choose;
Page – 284 For there are other tidings.
ANTIOCHUS They should be welcome.
THOAS Phraates, thy imperial father, comes With myriad hosts behind him thunder-hooved, Not for invasion armed as Syria's foe, But for the husband of his Rodogune. Shall we recoil upon these helpers? Death Can always wait.
ANTIOCHUS Perhaps. Leave me awhile, Thoas; for we must sit alone tonight, My soul and I together. Rodogune, Thoas goes. Wouldst thou go back to Parthia, to thy country?
RODOGUNE I have no country, I have only thee. I shall be where thou art; it is all I know And all I wish for.
ANTIOCHUS Eunice, wilt thou go To Antioch safe? My mother loves thee well.
EUNICE I follow her and thee. What talk is this? I shall grow angry.
ANTIOCHUS Am I other, Eunice, Than once I was? Is there a change in me Since first I came into your lives from Egypt?
Page – 285 EUNICE You are my god, my warrior and the same You ever were.
ANTIOCHUS To her and thee I am. Sleep well, my Rodogune, for thou and I, Not sure of Fate, are of each other sure. To thee what else can matter?
RODOGUNE Nothing else. Rodogune and Eunice enter the interior of the tent. ANTIOCHUS A god! Yes, I have godlike stirrings in me. Shall they be bounded by this petty world The sea can span? If Rome, Greece, Africa, Asia and all the undiscovered globe Were given me for my garden, all glory mine, All men my friends, all women's hearts my own, Would there not still be bounds, still continents Unvanquished? O thou glorious Macedonian, Thou too must seek at last more worlds to conquer. Hast thou discovered them? This earth is but a hillock when all's said, The sea an azure puddle. All tonight Seems strange to me; my wars, ambition, fate And what I am and what I might have been, Float round me vaguely and withdraw from me Like grandiose phantoms in a mist. Who am I? Whence come I? Whither go, or wherefore now? Who gave me these gigantic appetites That make a banquet of the world? who set These narrow, scornful and exiguous bounds To my achievement? O, to die, to pass,
Page – 286 Nothing achieved but this, "He tried great things, Accomplished small ones." If this life alone Be given us to fail or to succeed, Then 'tis worth keeping. The Parthian treads our land! Phraates' hooves dig Grecian soil once more! The subtle Parthian! He has smiled and waited Till we were weak with mutual wounds and now Stretches his foot towards Syria. Have I then Achieved this only, my country's servitude? Shall that be said of me? It galls, it stabs. My fame! "Destroyer of Syria, he undid The great Seleucus' work." Whatever else O'ertake me, in this the strong gods shall not win. I will give up my body and sword to Timocles, Repel the Parthian, save from this new death, These dangerous allies from Macedon Syria, then die. But wherefore die? Should I not rather go With my sole sword into the changeful world, Create an empire, not inherit one? Are there not other realms? has not the East Great spaces? In huge torrid Africa Beyond the mystic sources of the Nile There must be empires. Or if with a ship One sailed for ever through the infinite West, Through Ocean and still Ocean for three years, Might not one find the old Atlantic realms No fable? Thy narrow lovely littoral, O blue Mediterranean, India, Parthia, Is this the world? I thirst for mightier things Than earth has. But for what I dreamed, to bound Upon Nicanor through the deep-bellied passes Or fall upon the Macedonian spears, It were glorious, yet a glorious cowardice, Too like self-slaughter. Is it not more heroic
Page – 287 To battle with than to accept calamity? Unless indeed all thinking-out is vain And Fate our only mover. Seek it out, my soul, And make no error here; for on this hour The future of the man Antiochus, What future he may have upon the earth In name or body lies. Reveal it to me, Zeus! In Antioch or upon the Grecian spears, Where lies my fate? While he is speaking, the Eremite enters. EREMITE Before thee always.
ANTIOCHUS How Cam'st thou or whence? I know thy ominous look.
EREMITE The how inquire not nor the whence, but learn The end is near which I then promised thee.
ANTIOCHUS So then, defeat and death were from the first My portion! Wherefore were these thoughts gigantical With which I came into my mother ready-shaped If they must end in the inglorious tomb?
EREMITE Despise not proud defeat, scorn not high death. The gods accept them sternly.
ANTIOCHUS Yes, as I shall, But not submissively.
Page – 288 EREMITE Break then, thou hill Unsatisfied with thy own height. The gods Care not if thou resist or if thou yield; They do their work with mortals. To the Vast Whence thou, O ravening, strong and hungry lion, Overleaping cam'st the iron bars of Time, Return! thou hast thy tamers. God of battles! Son of Nicanor! strong Antiochus! Depart and be as if thou wert not born. The gods await thee in Antioch. He departs. ANTIOCHUS I will meet them there. Break me. I see you can, O gods. But you break A body, not this soul; for that belongs, I feel, To other masters. It is settled then. Tomorrow sets in Antioch.
Page – 289 The same. Philoctetes, Thoas, Leosthenes, Eunice.
LEOSTHENES Surely this is the change that comes on men Who are to die.
PHILOCTETES O me! it is, it is.
THOAS Princess Eunice, what think you of it?
EUNICE Thoas, what matters what we think? We follow Our king; it is his to choose our paths for us. Lead they to death? Then we can die with him.
THOAS That's nobly spoken.
PHILOCTETES But too like a woman. Antiochus enters with Rodogune. ANTIOCHUS To Antioch! Is all ready for our march?
PHILOCTETES Antiochus, my king, I think in Egypt We loved each other. Page – 290 ANTIOCHUS Less here, my Philoctetes?
PHILOCTETES Then by that love, dear friend, go not to Antioch. Let us await the Parthian in his march. What do you seek at Antioch? A mother angry? A jealous brother at whose ear a fatal knave Sits always whispering? lords inimical? What can you hope from these? Go not to Antioch. I see Death smiling, waving you to go, But do not.
ANTIOCHUS Dearest comrade, Philoctetes, Fate calls to me and shall I shrink from her? I know my little brother Timocles, I feel his clasp already, see his smile. But there's Phayllus! Shall I fall so low As to fear him? Forgive me, friend; I go to Antioch.
PHILOCTETES It was decreed!
ANTIOCHUS But you, my friends, who have no love To shield you and perhaps great enemies, Will you fall back until I make your peace, To Egypt or Phraates?
THOAS Not a man Will leave your side who followed your victorious sword. We follow always.
ANTIOCHUS Beat then the drums and march.
Page – 291 But let an envoy ride in front to Timocles And tell him that Antiochus comes to lay His victor sword between a brother's knees And fight for him with Parthia. Let us march. All go except Philoctetes. PHILOCTETES (looking after him) O sun, thou goest rushing to the night Which shall engulf thee!
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