Collected Plays and Stories

 

CONTENTS

 

Pre-content

 

PLAYS

THE VIZIERS OF BASSORA

 

Rodogune

Act One

Act Two

Act Three

Act Four

Act Five

SCENE I

SCENE II

SCENE III

SCENE I

SCENE II  

SCENE III

SCENE IV

SCENE V

SCENE I

SCENE II

SCENE III

 

SCENE I

SCENE II

SCENE III

SCENE IV

SCENE V

SCENE I

SCENE II

SCENE III

SCENE IV

 

 

Perseus the Deliverer

Act One

Act Two

Act Three

Act Four

Act Five

SCENE I

SCENE II

SCENE III

SCENE I

SCENE II

SCENE III

SCENE I

SCENE II

SCENE III

SCENE I

SCENE II

SCENE III

SCENE IV

SCENE V

SCENE I

SCENE II

SCENE III

 

Eric

Act One

Act Two

Act Three

Act Four

Act Five

SCENE I

SCENE II

SCENE III

SCENE IV

SCENE I

SCENE II

SCENE I

SCENE II

SCENE I

SCENE II

SCENE I

 

Vasavadutta

 

Incomplete and Fragmentary Plays

The Witch of Ilni

Act One

 

Act Two

 

Act Three

SCENE I

SCENE II

 

SCENE I

 

 SCENE I

SCENE II

 

The House of Brut

Act  twO

 

SCENE I

 

The Maid in the Mill

Act One

 

 

 

Act Two

SCENE I

SCENE II

SCENE Iii

SCENE Iv

SCENE v

 

 

 

SCENE I

 

The Prince of Edur

The Prince of Mathura

Act  One

SCENE I

 

The Birth of Sin

Act ONE

 

Fragment of a Play

Act  One

SCENE I

 

STORIES

Occult Idylls

The Phantom Hour

 The Door at Abelard

 

Incomplete and Fragmentary Stories

Fictional Jottings

Fragment of a Story

The Devil's Mastiff

The Golden Bird

 

 

Act II

 

The Palace in Antioch.

 

Scene 1

 

A hall in the Palace.

Cleone, Phayllus.

 

PHAYLLUS

Worry the conscience of the Queen to death

Like the good bitch thou art. If this goes well,

I may sit unobserved on Syria's throne.

 

CLEONE

Do not forget me.

 

PHAYLLUS

Do not forget thyself,

Then how shall I forget thee?

 

CLEONE

I shall remember.

 

PHAYLLUS

If for a game you were the queen, Cleone,

And I your minister, how would you start

Your play of reigning?

 

CLEONE

I would have many perfect tortures made

To hurt the Parthian with, for every nerve

 

Page – 219


A torture. I would lie in flowers the while

Drinking sweet Cyprian wine and hear her moan.

 

PHAYLLUS

I do not like your thought; have better ones.

 

CLEONE

Shall I not satisfy my love, my hate?

Then just as well I might not reign at all.

 

PHAYLLUS

O hatred, love and wrath, you instruments

By which we are driven! Cleone, the gods use these

For their own purposes, not we for ours.

CLEONE

I'll do my will, Phayllus; you do yours.

 

PHAYLLUS

Our kingdom being won! It is not, yet.

(turning away)

She's too violent for my calmer ends;

Lust drives her, not ambition. I wait on you,

You gods who choose. If Fate intends my rise,

She will provide the instruments and cause.

Timocles enters from the inner palace.

TIMOCLES

I think I am afraid to speak to her.

I never felt so with the Egyptian girls

In Thebes or Alexandria. Are you not

Phayllus?

 

PHAYLLUS

You remember faces well

And have the trick for names, the monarch's trick.

 

Page – 220


TIMOCLES

Antiochus, all say, will be the king.

 

PHAYLLUS

But I say otherwise and what I say

Has a strange gift of happening.

 

TIMOCLES

You're my friend!

 

PHAYLLUS

My own and therefore yours.

 

TIMOCLES

This is your sister?

 

PHAYLLUS

Cleone.

 

TIMOCLES

A name that in its sound agrees

With Syria's roses. Are you too my friend,

Cleone?

 

CLEONE

Your subject, prince.

 

TIMOCLES

And why not both?

 

CLEONE

To serve is better.

 

TIMOCLES

Shall I try your will?

(embracing her)

Thou art warm fire against the lips, thou rose

Cleone.

 

Page – 221


CLEONE

May I test in turn?

 

TIMOCLES

Oh, do!

 

CLEONE

A rose examines by her thorns, —  as thus.

She strikes him lightly on the cheek and goes out.

 

TIMOCLES (looking uncertainly at Phayllus who is stroking his chin)

It was a courtesy, —  our Egyptian way.

 

PHAYLLUS

Hers was the Syrian. Do not excuse yourself;

I am her brother.

 

TIMOCLES ((turns as if to go, hesitates, then comes back)

Oh, have you met, Phayllus,

A Parthian lady here named Rodogune?

 

PHAYLLUS

Blows the wind east? But if it brings me good,

Let it blow where it will. I know the child.

She's fair. You'ld have her?

 

TIMOCLES

Fie on you, Phayllus!

 

PHAYLLUS

Prince, I have a plain tongue which, when I hunger,

Owns that there is a belly. Speak in your language!

I understand men's phrases though I use them not.

 

TIMOCLES

Think not that evil! She is not like those,

The common flowers which have a fair outside

 

Page – 222


Of beauty, but the common hand can pluck.

We wear such lightly, smell and throw away.

She is not like them.

 

PHAYLLUS

No? Yet were they all

Born from one mother Nature. What if she wears

The quick barbarian's robe called modesty?

There is a woman always in the end

Behind that shimmering. Pluck the robe, 'twill fall;

Then is she Nature's still.

 

TIMOCLES

I have seen her eyes; they are a liquid purity.

 

PHAYLLUS

And yet a fish swims there which men call love,

But truth names lust or passion. Fear not, prince;

The fish will rise to such an angler's cast.

 

TIMOCLES

Mistake me not, nor her. These things are done,

But not with such as she; she is heaven-pure

And must like heaven be by worship won.

 

PHAYLLUS

What is it then that you desire of her

Or ask of me? I can do always much.

 

TIMOCLES

O nothing else but this, only to kneel,

Look up at her and touch the little hand

That fluttered like a moonlit butterfly

Above my mother's hair. If she consenting smiled

A little, I might even dare so much.

 

Page – 223


PHAYLLUS

Why, she's your slave-girl!

 

TIMOCLES

I shall kneel to her

Some day and feel her hand upon my brow.

 

PHAYLLUS

What animal this is, I hardly know,

But know it is the animal for me:

My genius tells me. Prince, I need a bribe

Before I'll stir in this.

 

TIMOCLES

What bribe, Phayllus?

 

PHAYLLUS

A name, —  your friend.

 

TIMOCLES

O more than merely friend!

Bring me into the temple dim and pure

Whence my own hopes and fears now bar me out,

Then I am yours, Phayllus, you myself

For all things.

 

PHAYLLUS

Remember me when you have any need.

He goes out.

TIMOCLES

I have a friend! He is the very first

Who was not conquered by Antiochus.

How has this love like lightning leaped at me!

 

Page – 224


Scene 2

The same.

Eunice, Rodogune.

 

RODOGUNE

Heaven had a purpose in my servitude!

I will believe it.

 

EUNICE

One sees not now such men.

What a calm royalty his glances wield!

We are their subjects. And he treads the earth

As if it were already his.

 

RODOGUNE

All must be.

I have lived a slave, yet always held myself

A nobler spirit than my Grecian lords;

But when he spoke, O, when he looked at me,

I felt indeed the touch of servitude

And this time loved it.

 

EUNICE

O, you too, Rodogune!

 

RODOGUNE

I too! What do you mean? Are you, Eunice —

 

EUNICE

I mean, our thorny rose Cleone too

Has fallen in love with pretty Timocles.

 

Page – 225


RODOGUNE

You slanderer! But I thought a nearer thing

That ran like terror through my heart.

 

EUNICE

And so

You love him?

 

RODOGUNE

What have I said, Eunice? what have I said?

I did not say it.

 

EUNICE

You did not say it, no!

You lovely fool, hide love with blushes then

And lower over your liquid love-filled eyes

Their frightened lashes! Quake, my antelope!

I'll have revenge at least. O sweet, sweet heart,

My delicate Parthian! I shall never have

Another love, but only Rodogune,

My beautiful barbarian Rodogune

With the tall dainty grace and the large eyes

And vague faint pallor just like twilit ivory.

 

RODOGUNE

My own Eunice!

They embrace. Phayllus enters.

 

PHAYLLUS ((stroking his chin)

I always hated waste.

 

EUNICE

Your steps too steal, Phayllus?

 

PHAYLLUS

I have a message.

 

Page – 226


EUNICE

I do not like the envoy. Find another

And I will hear it.

 

PHAYLLUS

Come, you put me out.

 

EUNICE

Of your accounts? They say there is too much

You have put out already for your credit.

 

PHAYLLUS

You're called. The Queen's in haste, Cleone said.

Eunice goes.

Parthian, will you be Syria's queen or no?

I startle you. The royal Timocles

By your beauty strives ensnared. Don not your mask

Of modesty, keep that for Timocles.

I offer you a treaty. By my help

You can advance your foot to Syria's throne:

His bed's the staircase and you shall ascend,

Nor will I rest till you are seated there.

Come, have I helped you? Shall we be allies?

 

RODOGUNE

You speak a language that I will not hear.

 

PHAYLLUS

Oh, language! you're for language, all of you.

Are you not Parthia's daughter? do you not wish

To sit upon a throne?

 

RODOGUNE

Not by your help,

Nor as the bride of Syrian Timocles.

What are these things you speak?

 

Page – 227


PHAYLLUS

Weigh not my speech,

But only my sincerity. I have a tongue

Displeasing to all women. Heed not that!

My heart is good, my meaning better still.

 

RODOGUNE

Perhaps! But know I yearn not for a throne.

And if I did, Antiochus is king

And not this younger radiance.

 

PHAYLLUS

That's your reason?

You are deceived. Besides he loves you not

Nor ever will put on a female yoke.

Prefer this woman's clay, this Timocles

And by my help you shall have empire, joy,

All the heart needs, the pleasures bodies use.

 

RODOGUNE

I need no empire save my high-throned heart,

I seek no power save that of sceptred love,

I ask no help beyond what Ormuzd gives.

Enough. I thank you.

 

PHAYLLUS

You're subtler than these Greeks.

Must he then pine? Shall he not plead his cause?

 

RODOGUNE

I would not have him waste his heart in pain

If what you say is true. Let him then know

This cannot be.

 

PHAYLLUS

He will not take from me

An answer you yourself alone can give.

 

Page – 228


I think you parry to be more attacked.

 

RODOGUNE

Think what you will, but leave me.

 

PHAYLLUS

If you mean that,

The way to show it is to let him come.

You feign and do not mean this, or else you would

Deny him to his face.

 

RODOGUNE (flushing angrily)

I will; tell him to come.

 

PHAYLLUS

I thought so. Come he shall. Remember me.

He goes out.

RODOGUNE

I did not well to bid him come to me.

It is some passing fancy of the blood.

I do not hear that he was ever hurt

But danced a radiant and inconstant moth

Above the Egyptian blossoms.

Timocles enters hastily, hesitates, then rushes and

throws himself at the feet of Rodogune.

TIMOCLES

Rodogune!

I love thee, princess; thou hast made me mad.

I know not what I do nor what I speak.

What dreadful god has seized upon my heart?

I am not Timocles and not my own,

But am a fire and am a raging wind

To seize on thee and am a driven leaf.

O Rodogune, turn not away from me.

Forgive me, O, forgive me. I cannot help it

 

Page – 229


If thou hast made me love thee. Tremble not,

Nor grow so pale and look with panic glances

As if a fire had clutched thee by the robe.

I am thy menial, thy poor trembling slave

And thou canst slay me with a passing frown.

 

RODOGUNE

Touch not my hand! 'tis sacred from thy touch!

 

TIMOCLES

It is most sacred; even the roseate nail

Of thee, O thou pale goddess, is a mystery

And a strange holiness. Scorched be his hand

Who dares with lightest sacrilegious touch

Profane thee, O deep-hearted miracle,

Unless thy glorious eyes condone the fault

By growing tender. O thou wondrous Parthian,

Fear not my love; it grows a cloistered worship.

See, I can leave thee! see, I can retire.

Look once on me, one look is food enough

For many twelvemonths.

Eunice returns.

EUNICE

You wrong your mother, cousin.

Her moments linger when you are not there;

Always she asks for you.

 

TIMOCLES

My mother! You gods,

Forbid it, lest I weary of her love.

He goes.

EUNICE

What was this? Speak.

Page – 230


RODOGUNE

Was Fate not satisfied

With my captivity? Waits worse behind?

It was a grey and clouded sky before

And bleak enough but quiet. Now I see

Fresh clouds come stored with thunder toiling up

From a black-piled horizon.

 

EUNICE

Tell me all.

What said Phayllus to you, the dire knave

Who speaks to poison?

 

RODOGUNE

He spoke of love and thrones and Timocles;

He spoke as selfish cunning men may speak

Who mean some evil they call good.

 

EUNICE

And how

Came Timocles behind him?

 

RODOGUNE

Called by him,

With such wild passion burning under his lids

I never thought to see in human eyes.

What are these movements?

 

EUNICE

We move as we must,

Not as we choose, whatever we may think.

Your beauty is a torch you needs must carry

About the world with you. You cannot help it

If it burns kingdoms.

 

RODOGUNE

I pray it may not. God who only rulest,

 

Page – 231


Let not the evil spirit use my love

To bring misfortune on Antiochus.

Mentho enters.

MENTHO

Which is the Parthian?

 

EUNICE

She.

 

MENTHO

Antiochus

Desires you in his chamber with a bowl

Of Lesbian vintage.

 

EUNICE

Does he desire? The gods then choose their hour

For intervention. Move, you Parthian piece.

 

RODOGUNE

Send someone else. I cannot go.

 

EUNICE

I think

You have forgotten that you are a slave.

You are my piece and I will have you move.

Move quickly.

 

RODOGUNE

Surely he did not speak my name?

 

MENTHO

Why do you fear, my child? He's good and noble

And kind in speech and gentle to his servants.

 

RODOGUNE (low, to herself )

It is not him I fear, it is myself.

 

Page – 232


EUNICE

Fear me instead. You shall be cruelly whipped

Unless you move this instant.

 

RODOGUNE

Oh, Eunice!

 

EUNICE

Whipped savagely! I'll sacrifice so much

For a shy pawn who will not move? Go, go,

And come not back unkissed if you are wise.

She pushes Rodogune to the door and

she goes, followed by Mentho.

His heart's not free, nor hers, or else I'ld try

My hand at reigning. As the gods choose. Through her

I may rule Syria.

 

Page – 233


Scene 3

 

Antiochus' chamber.

Antiochus, with a map before him.

 

ANTIOCHUS

Ecbatana, Susa and Sogdiana,

The Aryan country which the Indus bounds,

Euphrates' stream and Tigris' golden sands,

The Oxus and Jaxartes and these mountains

Vague and enormous shouldering the moon

With all their dim beyond of nations huge;

This were an empire! What are Syria, Greece

And the blue littoral to Gades? They are

Too narrow to contain my soul, too petty

To satisfy its hunger and its vastness.

O pale, sweet Parthian face with liquid eyes

Mid darkest masses and O gracious limbs

Obscuring this epitome of earth,

You will not let me fix my eyes on Susa.

I never yearned for any woman yet.

While Timocles with the light Theban dames

Amused his careless heart, I walked aside;

Parthia and Greece became my mistresses.

But now my heart is filled with one pale girl.

Exult not, archer. I will quiet thee

With sudden and assured possession first,

Then keep thee beating an eternal strain.

I have loved her through past lives and many ages.

The Parthian princess, lovely Rodogune!

O name of sweetness! Renowned Phraates' daughter,

A bud of kings, —  my glorious prisoner

With those beseeching eyes. O high Antiochus,

 

Page – 234


Who snatched her from among her guardian spears,

Thou hast gone past but left this prophecy

Of beautiful conquered Persia grown my slave

To love me. It is thou, my Rodogune!

Rodogune enters.

RODOGUNE (with lowered eyes)

I have brought the wine.

 

ANTIOCHUS

Thou art the only wine,

O Parthian! Wine to flush Olympian souls

Is in this glorious flask. Set down the bowl.

Lift up instead thy long and liquid eyes;

I grudge them to the marble, Rodogune.

Thou knowest well why I have sent for thee.

Have we not gazed into each other's eyes

And thine confessed their knowledge?

 

RODOGUNE

Prince, I am

Thy mother's slave.

 

ANTIOCHUS

Mine, mine, O Rodogune,

For I am Syria.

 

RODOGUNE

Thine.

 

ANTIOCHUS

O, thou hast spoken!

 

RODOGUNE

Touch me not, touch me not, Antiochus!

Son of Nicanor, spare me, spare thyself.

O me! I know the gods prepare some death;

 

Page – 235


I am a living misfortune.

 

ANTIOCHUS

Wert thou my fate

Of death itself, delightful Rodogune,

Not, as thou art, heaven's pledge of bliss, I'ld not abstain

From thy delight, but have my joy of thee

The short while it is possible on earth.

O, play not with the hours, my Rodogune.

Why should brief man defer his joys and wait

As if life were eternal? Time does not pause,

Death does not tarry.

 

RODOGUNE

Alas!

 

ANTIOCHUS

Thou lingerest yet.

Wilt thou deny the beating of our hearts

That call to us to bridge these sundering paces?

O, then I will command thee as a slave.

Thou wouldst not let me draw thee, come thyself

Into my arms, O perfect Rodogune,

My Parthian captive!

 

RODOGUNE

Antiochus, my king!

 

ANTIOCHUS

So heave against me like a wave for ever.

Melt warmly into my bosom like the Spring,

O honied breathing tumult!

 

RODOGUNE

O release me!

 

Page – 236


ANTIOCHUS

Thou sudden sorceress, die upon my breast!

My arms are cords to bind thee to this stake,

Slowly to burn away in crimson fire.

 

RODOGUNE

Release me, O release me!

 

ANTIOCHUS

Not till our lips have joined

Eternal wedlock. With this stamp and this

And many more I'll seal thee to myself.

Eternal Time's too short for all the kisses

I yearn for from thee, O pale loveliness,

Dim mystery! Press thy lips to mine. Obey.

Again! and so again and even for ever

Chant love, O marvel, let thy lips' wild music

Come faltering from thy heart into my bosom.

Rodogune sinks at his feet and

embraces his knees.

RODOGUNE

I am thine, thine, thine, thine for ever.

She rises and hides her face in her hands.

 

ANTIOCHUS (uncovering her face)

Beloved,

Hide not thy face from love. The gods in heaven

Look down on us; let us look up at them

With fearless eyes of candid joy and tell them

Not Time nor any of their dooms can move us now.

The passion of oneness two hearts are this moment

Denies the steps of death for ever.

 

RODOGUNE

My heart

Stops in me. I can bear no more of bliss.

 

Page – 237


Oh, leave me now that I may live for thee.

 

ANTIOCHUS

Stay where thou art. Or go, for thou art mine

And I can send thee from me when I will

And call thee when I will. Go, Rodogune

Who yet remain with me.

Rodogune leaves the chamber with

faltering steps.

O Love, thou art

Diviner in the enjoying. Can I now

Unblinded scan this map? No, she is there;

It is her eyes I see and not Ecbatana.

 

Page – 238


Scene 4

 

The hall in the Palace.

Timocles, Phayllus.

 

TIMOCLES

O, all the sweetness and the glory gathered

Into one smiling life, the other's left

Barren, unbearable, bleak, desolate,

A hell of silence and of emptiness

Impossible for mortal souls to imagine,

Much less to suffer. My mother does this wrong to me!

Why should not we, kind brothers all our lives, —

O, how we loved each other there in Egypt! —

Divide this prize? Let his be Syria's crown, —

Oh, let him take it! I have Rodogune.

 

PHAYLLUS

He will consent?

 

TIMOCLES

Oh, yes, and with a smile.

He is all loftiness and warlike thoughts.

My high Antiochus! how could I dream

Of taking from him what he'ld wear so well?

Let me have love and joy and Rodogune.

The sunlight is enough for me.

 

PHAYLLUS

It may be,

Yet not enough for both. Look! there he comes

Carrying himself as if he were the sun

Brilliant alone in heaven. Oh, that to darken!

Antiochus enters.

 

Page – 239


TIMOCLES

Brother, it is the kind gods send you here.

 

ANTIOCHUS

Dear Timocles, we meet not all the day.

It was not so in Egypt. Tell me now,

What were you doing all these busy hours?

How many laughing girls of this fair land

Have you lured on to love you?

 

TIMOCLES

Have you not heard?

 

ANTIOCHUS

What, Timocles?

 

TIMOCLES

Our mother gives the crown

And with the crown apportions Rodogune.

 

ANTIOCHUS

Our royal mother? Are they hers to give?

I do not marry by another's will.

 

TIMOCLES

O brother, no; our hearts at least are ours.

You have not marked, I think, Antiochus,

This pale sweet Parthian Rodogune?

 

ANTIOCHUS (smiling)

No, brother?

I have not marked, you say?

 

TIMOCLES

You are so blind

To woman's beauty. You only woo great deeds

And arms imperial. It is well for me

You rather chose to wed the grandiose earth.

 

Page – 240


I am ashamed to tell you, dear Antiochus,

I grudged the noble crown that soon will rest

So gloriously upon you. Take it, brother,

But leave me my dim goddess Rodogune.

 

ANTIOCHUS

Thy goddess! thine!

 

TIMOCLES

It is not possible

That you too love her!

 

ANTIOCHUS

What is it to thee whom or what I love?

Say that I love her not?

 

TIMOCLES

Then is my offer

Just, brotherly, not like this causeless wrath.

 

ANTIOCHUS

Thy wondrous offer! Of two things that are mine

To fling me one with "There! I want it not,

I'll take the other"!

 

TIMOCLES (in a suffocated voice)

Has she made thee king?

 

ANTIOCHUS

I need no human voice to make me anything

Who am king by birth and nature. Who else should reign

In Syria? Thoughtst thou thy light and shallow head

Was meant to wear a crown?

 

TIMOCLES

In Egypt you were not like this, Antiochus.

 

Page – 241


ANTIOCHUS

See not the Parthian even in dreams at night!

Remember not her name!

 

TIMOCLES

She is my mother's slave:

I'll ask for her and have her.

 

ANTIOCHUS

Thou shalt have

My sword across thy heart-strings first. She is

The kingdom's prize and with the kingdom mine.

 

TIMOCLES

My dream, my goddess with those wondrous eyes!

My sweet veiled star cloistered in her own charm!

I will not yield her to thee, nor the crown,

Not wert thou twenty times my brother.

 

PHAYLLUS

Capital!

Delightful! O my fortune! my kind fortune!

 

TIMOCLES

Thou lov'st her not who dar'st to think of her

As if she were a prize for any arms,

Thy slave, thy chattel.

 

ANTIOCHUS

Speak not another word.

 

PHAYLLUS

More! more! My star, thou risest o'er this storm.

 

ANTIOCHUS

I pardon thee, my brother Timocles;

Thy light passions are thy excuse. Henceforth

 

Page – 242


Offend not. For the Parthian, she is mine

And I would keep her though a god desired.

Exalt not thy presumptuous eyes henceforth

Higher than are her sandals.

He goes out.

PHAYLLUS

This is your brother!

Shall he not have the crown?

 

TIMOCLES

Nor her, nor Syria.

Rodogune and Eunice enter

passing through the hall.

Timocles rushes to her.

My Rodogune, my star! Thou knowest the trade

Which others seek to make of thee. Resist it,

Prevent the insult of this cold award!

Say that thou lov'st me.

 

RODOGUNE

Prince, I pity thee,

But cannot love.

She passes out.

EUNICE

My cousin Timocles,

All flowers are not for your plucking. Roses

Enough that crave to satisfy your want,

Are grown in Syria; take them. Here be wise;

Touch not my Parthian blossom.

She passes out.

TIMOCLES

How am I smitten as with a thunderbolt!

 

Page – 243


PHAYLLUS

Will you be dashed by this? They make her think

Antiochus will reign in Syria.

 

TIMOCLES

No,

She loves him.

 

PHAYLLUS

Is love so quickly born? Oh, then,

It will as quickly die. Eunice works here

To thwart you; she is for Antiochus.

 

TIMOCLES

All, all are for Antiochus, the crown,

And Syria and men's homage, women's hearts

And life and sweetness and my love.

 

PHAYLLUS

Young prince,

Be more a man. Besiege the girl with gifts

And graces; woo her like a queen or force her

Like what she is, a slave. Be strong, be sudden,

Forestalling this proud brother.

 

TIMOCLES

I would not wrong her pure and shrouded soul

Though all the gods in heaven should give me leave.

 

PHAYLLUS

The graceful, handsome fool! Then from your mother

Demand her as a gift.

 

TIMOCLES (going)

My soul once more

Is hunted by the tempest.

 

Page – 244


Scene 5

 

Cleopatra's chamber.

Cleopatra, Cleone.

 

CLEOPATRA

I am resolved; but Mentho the Egyptian knows

The true precedence of the twins. Send her to me.

Cleone goes out.

O you, high-seated cold divinities,

You sleep sometimes, they say you sleep. Sleep now!

I only loosen what your careless wills

Have tangled.

Mentho enters.

Mentho, sit by me. Mentho,

You have not breathed our secret? Keep it, Mentho,

Dead in your bosom, buy a queen for slave.

 

MENTHO

Dead! Can truth die?

 

CLEOPATRA

Ah, Mentho, truth! But truth

Is often terrible. Justice! but was ever

Justice yet seen upon the earth? Man lives

Because he is not just and real right

Dwells not with law and custom but for him

It grows by whose arriving our brief happiness

Is best assured and grief prohibited

For a while to mortals.

 

MENTHO

This is the thing I feared.

 

Page – 245


O wickedness! Well, Queen, I understand.

 

CLEOPATRA

Not less than you I love Antiochus;

But Timocles seeks Parthian Rodogune.

O, if these brother-loves should turn to hate

And slay us all! Then rather let thy nursling stand, —

Will he not rule whoever fills the throne? —

Approved of heaven and earth, indeed a king,

Protector of the weaker Timocles,

His right hand in his wars, his pillar, guard

And sword of action, grand in loyalty,

Kingly in great subjection, famed for love.

Then there shall be no grief for anyone

And everything consent to our desires.

 

MENTHO

Queen Cleopatra, shall I speak? shall I

Forget respect? The god demands my voice.

I tell thee then that thy rash brain has hatched

A wickedness beyond all parallel,

A cold, unmotherly and cruel plot

Thou striv'st in vain to alter with thy words.

O nature self-deceived! O blinded heart!

It is the husband of thy boasted love,

Woman, thou wrongest in thy son.

 

CLEOPATRA

Alas,

Mentho, my nurse, thou knowest not the cause.

 

MENTHO

I do not need to know. Art thou Olympian Zeus?

Has he given thee his sceptre and his charge

To guide the tangled world? Wilt thou upset

His rulings? wilt thou improve his providence?

Are thy light woman's brain and shallow love

 

Page – 246


A better guide than his all-seeing eye?

O wondrous arrogance of finite men

Who would know better than omniscient God!

Beware his thunders and observe his will.

What he has made, strive not to unmake, but shun

The tragical responsibility

Of such dire error. If from thy act spring death

And horror, are thy human shoulders fit

To bear that heavy load? Observe his will,

Do right and leave the rest to God above.

 

CLEOPATRA

Thy words have moved me.

 

MENTHO

Let thy husband move thee.

How wilt thou meet him in the solemn shades?

Will he not turn his royal face from thee

Saying, "Murderess of my children, come not near me!"

 

CLEOPATRA

O Mentho, curse me not. My husband's eyes

Shall meet me with a smile. Mentho, my nurse,

You will not tell this to Antiochus?

 

MENTHO

I am not mad nor wicked. Remain fixed

In this resolve. Dream not that happiness

Can spring from wicked roots. God overrules

And Right denied is mighty.

 

Page – 247