Chapter 13

Scene:A room in the castle. Brentio alone.Bren.By Hector, we've had a night of it. I must stop now and count my fingers and toes, for I'm sure there's some of me missing. First, my gold![Counts gold]All here. But poor mistress Theano that I promised to carry through fire and flood for this same sweet gold was burnt up last night. Well, my lord Ocrastes is dead too, so I'll not be called to account. Had it been flood now I might have kept my promise, but fire—I never could abide a singed beard.[Enter Tichus]Ho, Tichus! These are wars, sir! These are wars! Have you killed your man this night?Tich.A score, I hope.Bren.Well, I've naught to say. Let deeds talk. A bragging tongue is Fame's best grave-digger, though it wag i' the mouth of Hercules. But I spared some, I'll say that. They cried so for mercy, poor fellows! Not a man of 'em was ready to die, by his own count.Tich.If you wait for that you'll die swearing blood is green for all you'll even draw of it. When the gods promised that no man should die till he was ready old Charon sold his boat.Bren.There's a stick-penny for you. What was his bargain?Tich.A feather bed, that he might sleep off idleness.Bren.Ah, but you should have seen me when a villainpitted at me with three pikes. A murderous three-handed deformity, by the truth o' my eyes he was!Tich.Then you shook your sword, I warrant!Bren.No, bless me, I shook my feet.Tich.Man, you didn't run?Bren.No, I flew. I wore Mercury's feathers, I tell you.Tich.Shame, Brentio! A coward's leg will never overtake Fame.Bren.Ay, but when a man must leap the grave to catch her, let take her who will! I'm done. Have you been through the castle?Tich.No.Bren.Come then. There are sights to be seen. Mostly in the cellars, where every soldier gets a bottle for his song.[Sings]

Scene:A room in the castle. Brentio alone.

Bren.By Hector, we've had a night of it. I must stop now and count my fingers and toes, for I'm sure there's some of me missing. First, my gold![Counts gold]All here. But poor mistress Theano that I promised to carry through fire and flood for this same sweet gold was burnt up last night. Well, my lord Ocrastes is dead too, so I'll not be called to account. Had it been flood now I might have kept my promise, but fire—I never could abide a singed beard.

[Enter Tichus]

Ho, Tichus! These are wars, sir! These are wars! Have you killed your man this night?

Tich.A score, I hope.

Bren.Well, I've naught to say. Let deeds talk. A bragging tongue is Fame's best grave-digger, though it wag i' the mouth of Hercules. But I spared some, I'll say that. They cried so for mercy, poor fellows! Not a man of 'em was ready to die, by his own count.

Tich.If you wait for that you'll die swearing blood is green for all you'll even draw of it. When the gods promised that no man should die till he was ready old Charon sold his boat.

Bren.There's a stick-penny for you. What was his bargain?

Tich.A feather bed, that he might sleep off idleness.

Bren.Ah, but you should have seen me when a villainpitted at me with three pikes. A murderous three-handed deformity, by the truth o' my eyes he was!

Tich.Then you shook your sword, I warrant!

Bren.No, bless me, I shook my feet.

Tich.Man, you didn't run?

Bren.No, I flew. I wore Mercury's feathers, I tell you.

Tich.Shame, Brentio! A coward's leg will never overtake Fame.

Bren.Ay, but when a man must leap the grave to catch her, let take her who will! I'm done. Have you been through the castle?

Tich.No.

Bren.Come then. There are sights to be seen. Mostly in the cellars, where every soldier gets a bottle for his song.

[Sings]

Who will not be merry then let him go drown,Let him go drown,In as rosy a bumper as ever went down,As ever went down,And he'll bob up, he'll bob up, by Bacchus, he will,As hail a good fellow as ever wet gill!

Who will not be merry then let him go drown,

Let him go drown,

In as rosy a bumper as ever went down,

As ever went down,

And he'll bob up, he'll bob up, by Bacchus, he will,

As hail a good fellow as ever wet gill!

Here are our masters! I'm gone. A hero may drink, but work—never![Exit]Tich.There's more trouble ahead than the claw o' my wit can scratch. Ocrastes' death makes one less in the pother, but I've eyes in my head, and there's no doubt my master is in love with the lady Aratea, and one lover can make more trouble than a score of extra husbands. Well, well, when thy cares bewilder thee take time and wine for thy counsellors. So let it work out.[Exit. Aristocles and Dion appear in hall partly visible through wide open doors, rear. Aristocles enters and comes front. Dion remains without, gazing down, moody and meditative]

Here are our masters! I'm gone. A hero may drink, but work—never![Exit]

Tich.There's more trouble ahead than the claw o' my wit can scratch. Ocrastes' death makes one less in the pother, but I've eyes in my head, and there's no doubt my master is in love with the lady Aratea, and one lover can make more trouble than a score of extra husbands. Well, well, when thy cares bewilder thee take time and wine for thy counsellors. So let it work out.[Exit. Aristocles and Dion appear in hall partly visible through wide open doors, rear. Aristocles enters and comes front. Dion remains without, gazing down, moody and meditative]

Aris.Deep, deep, my thoughts, dive to some bed of deathIn my wide-regioned self, nor come againLike sea-return�d corpse, with livid grinAnd foul, accreted horror, to beg anewFor burial.[Dion comes in and walks slowly across to Aristocles]You'll see her now?Dion.See whom?Aris.Your wife.Dion.My wife? Have I a wife?Aris.She waitsYour summons by Diana's altar.Dion.Ah!So near?Aris.Theano waits with her.Dion.My niece?She's safe?Aris.By miracle. The unknown knightBore her from out Phillistus' burning house.Dion.Still swells our debt to him.Aris.You'll see her now?Dion.See whom, my friend?Aris.Your wife, sir,—Aratea.Dion.When you repeat the name I half believeI have a wife. Your voice was ever true,Nor fed me with the rifled husks of speech.... Was she not fair?Aris.My lord?Dion.How fair, think you?Aris.Who, sir, could say? Such beauty scorns all wordsAnd writes itself but in the wondering eye.Dion.You shift. You shift. Your tongue is beauty's pencil.Did heaven lack a goddess you might limnA fairer than a Venus for the place.Speak on. Tell me her sum to the last doit.The balance of a hair—a smile unborn—I'd not strike off.Aris.[Coldly]You know her worth, my lord.Dion.Nay, the appraising eye when fixed too nearThe thing it loves distorts the sweet proportion.You can adjust your gaze, take stand to bringHer beauty to perfection's single-point.Aris.What matter? All is yours.Dion.Ah, if 'twere mineI'd care not, happy then to know 'twas mine.But when we've lost we're moved to question, sir,Else are we crippled twice in our estate,Once in the loss, again to know it not.Aris.Strange speech, my lord. I hardly know your tongue.Dion.You can not understand, for you've no wife.No more have I. But once.... Yes, yes, I'll see her.Wilt bring her here?Aris.I bring her? Here? To you?Dion.If 'tis too sad a service——Aris.Nay, I go.[Exit]Dion.I am forgot in his great pity of her.[Enter Calippus]Cal.Lord Dion, Heraclides begs to see you.Dion.Is he alone?Cal.�gisthus comes with him.Dion.Bid them into the banquet hall.Cal.My lord,You will not see them?Dion.Ay, there's naught to fear.Tell them I'll join them soon.[Exit Calippus]Now riven heart,Close firm as mountain bulwark that beats offThe Thracian wind.[Enter Aristocles with Theano and Aratea]Dion.[To Theano]Good welcome, niece.[He embraces Theano, and looks silently at Aratea]Ara.[Falteringly]My lord——Dion.Your friend, your lover—ay, your slave,—but notYour lord, sweet Aratea.Ara.O! Condemned!Dion.Not that—but——Ara.Then you'll hear me?Dion.No! Your voiceRenews in me the battle that I thoughtWas fought to end.Ara.But I could say, my lord——Dion.Ay, you could say what would revoke the sun,Turn back into his heart his golden spears,And from the sapphire battlements make pourSurpris�d night! How easy then to shakeThe scarce-sworn vow from my unfended breastTo melt like snowflake caught in lap of June!Ara.O, sir——Dion.You've that in you defeats resolve,And casts in broil the mind's high chancery.I will not hear a word! 'Tis my defence,Not cruelty. All honor shall be thineApart from me.Ara.What honor may be mineApart from thee?Dion.Nay, question not my justice!Ara.You think me vile, my lord?Dion.Mayhap I do!Were there no poisons left in Sicily?No rank, night-sweating herbs whose bane might workProud honor's choice? Were daggers grown too bluntTo pierce fair flesh? What, not a rope—nor cord?No garters—strips of silken robes——Aris.O, spareTo accuse a soul who erred that she might stillBe true to Heaven.Dion.True? By Pallas! True?Aris.Sir, she obeyed the gods who bid us waitAnd work on earth our destiny.Dion.The godsSometimes write in our fates that to seek deathIs what will solely please them.Aris.Must I seeThe sun of justice in you set?Dion.Ah, friend,Do you not see 'tis my desire that criesTo keep her still? 'Tis passion weighing doubts,Hoping to find them light as rising vapors.Aris.Though she had struck at life within her heart,Swart Atropos had dropped her shears for pity,Nor helped so fair a woe to death. Yet you——Dion.O, she is pure, but not to me! 'Tis stampedUpon my soul that she is dark to meThough fair to Heaven!The.Hear her, sir. She tookNo vows. Her lips were dumb——Dion.O, vows! You speakOf words?The.But——Dion.Silence, niece!Aris.Receive her, sir.Dion.Never, my friend! What can you know of this?Aris.I know she is Pandora without taint!The secret pattern lost in mourning heavenWhen rapt Hephaistos shaped the perfect clayBy Pallas' breath made vital! Sir, receive her!Let me implore it by our years of love.Dion.Thou'rt dear to me as man may be to man,But wert thou dear as god may be to god,I could not grant thy wish.Aris.Then she is mine!And, could I snatch a tear from Dian's cheekWhen bowed at secret altar she renewsHer vestal sanctity, 'twould not be lessUnspotted to my love! O, Aratea,Wilt come? My wife? Say not thou lov'st, but clingUnto my breast as trusting bud to bough,Or but uplook with eyes whose shaken seaIs calmed in mine.Dion.Ye powers that rule my being,Stop every conscious note but wonder!Aris.Ah,I've heard it said Apollo loved my mother,And I could wish it true, that god-descendedI might embrace thyself, who surely artOf high Olympus born—whose mortal partWears beauty as the night her stars.Dion.BeholdMe desolate, ye gods! Is this my friend?Nay, thou hast given friendship such a blowShe dies from earth, nor in eternal grovesMay she be healed.Aris.Not mine, but yours, the blow.Dion.Ocrastes struck me, and I rose again.My wife was taken, and I lived to sigh.But you—O, now the quick of life is seizedWith mortal ill. Now shakes my earth to centre,And on me falling bow her peak�d tops.Even here and now I die. All fellowshipForego with gallant breath, and lay me downLike forest trunk that pours its wasting heartFrom every lopp�d limb.[Theano attempts to comfort him]Go from me, girl.My wounded senses shrink away from lifeTill gentlest touches are as brands of pain.Dumb be my lips. I'll speak no more on earth.Ara.Keep you that word! Thy silence is my speech!Know, Dion, though the knowing now is naught,Ocrastes left me ere his marriage vowWas cold in air, nor took one bridal kiss.Nor have these eyes beheld him since that hour,Nor will the eye of mortal see him more.The sea now holds him to her buried heart.Some shelly couch washed with a Nereid's tearsIs his last bed.Dion.And you untouched ... untouched.Ara.I grieve you did not know me better, sir.You too, my lord Aristocles. Those cords—Those daggers—poisons—had been quickly found——Dion.Untouched! No bridal kiss! My blindness goes.But Heaven, in pity, shut me dark again,For I have wronged Ocrastes—who is dead.How could your woman heart not know the truth—That he thus saved you from a baser touchTo be restored all perfect, pure to me?And he is dead. Give me your pity, gods!Now we will mourn, Theano. Here, my daughter.Our griefs let marry in our kissing tears.[Embraces Theano]But there's a brightness yet in this dark woe.[Advances to Aratea]Once more, my love, my wife, you are all mine.[Aristocles steps before Aratea]What mean you now?Aris.To guard my own. For youThe pearl of opportunity is lost.Briareus' hands could not now snatch it backWhere 't pales on time's retreating wave.Dion.By Mars,I'll pass you, sir!The.Let Aratea speak.Is 't not for her to choose?Dion.A wedded womanCan have no choice.The.O, Dion, be a god,Not man, and grant it.Aris.Choose thine own. As freeAs new created star, fix where thou wilt.Diem.Ay, choose! Thou art my wife. Thy holy truthWill fail thee not. Speak! End this bitter follyFrom which the gods would turn shame-burning face!The.Not if all tale be true.Dion.You speak too much!Ara.First swear, my lords, however I may choose,You'll still be friends, as honored and as trueAs though this face I loathe had never comeBetween your loves.Aris.I swear to you my friendShall be my friend.Ara.You, sir?Dion.I will forgive him,For love has made him mad.Ara.Swear it by Heaven.Dion.By Heaven. Now wilt speak?Ara.Such sacred oathsNeed sacrificial rite, and here I giveMy blood.[Suddenly draws a dagger and attempts to stab herself. Aristocles, watching eagerly, seizes dagger, and supporting her speaks wildly]Aris.Think not that you can fly me now!Though thou wert dead still wouldst thou live for meIn such dear semblance of remembered showThat I would seek to woo thy houseless spiritE'er give thee o'er unclasped to Heaven!Ara.Ah![Releases herself]Dion.But now she lives, and living she is mine.Aris.Her lips, not yours, shall say!Dion.Lost man, thou'rt crazed.I pity thee. Speak, wife.Ara.O, blow me, winds,To some unpeopled sphere, and find me peaceAs sweet as his who cropped the first day fruitsOf green unharrowed earth!Dion.This is no answer.Ara.My lord, if 't be my prayers can save my soul,In some far fane I'll serve the priestess' cupTill Death is kind and calls me.Dion.[Seizing her arm]Answer me!Art mine, or his?Ara.Till truth no more is truthThou art my lord.[Aristocles turns and moves apart, covering his face with his mantle. Aratea sinks feebly and Theano supports her]Dion.[To Aristocles]Now you've your answer! Niece,Lead out my wife.[Theano takes Aratea from the room, through curtained entrance, left]Aristocles—my friend—I pity and forgive thee. When Love drives,His chariot reins are veins of mortal men,Who fain must course the bright god's destinyNor reck the road. 'Tis strange—not that you loved her—But that I did not dream it must be so,She being the top and bloom of all her sex,As you, my lord, of yours. A mortal judgeWould grant you her, but God gave her to me,And I doubt not He blundered to a purposeBeyond our dream. Ah me, the night's red eyesLooked fatal on the sail that bore you hither.Cursed be my prayers that drew you from your Athens!Farewell! For you must go. Small SicilyNo more may hold us both.[Re-enter Theano]The.She's better, sir.Dion.That's well.[Enter Calippus, through hall, rear]Your news?Cal.Our saviour of the nightNow waits to see you.Dion.The warrior? Ask him in![Exit Calippus]The.I'll speak the thanks he waited not to hear,Although my heart gives none for this poor life.[Enter warrior, rear, still in arms and helmeted]Dion.Thou'rt welcome as the gods. As lightning makesThe world now bright, now dark, you fill and voidThe circle of our sense, but, here or there,'Tis ours to grant you what you will if powerBe in us.Warrior.[Kneeling]For one thing I sue—forgiveness.[Removes helmet]Dion.Ocrastes!Oc.Ay.Dion.How couldst be hid from meThough veiled in seven-fold steel?The.Not dead—not dead——Oc.[Embracing Theano]My heart, look up. The long tale of my sinsWill be as virtue's song when in love's ear'Tis whispered. Nay, weep not. Those woes are sealed.The.O, canst forgive me?Oc.It is I must sue.Nay, nay, my sweet, no liquid gem drop nowOn misery's broken altar, too long richWith these eyes' jewels.The.Ah, thou'rt mine ... still mine.Oc.Ere I have done your constancy shall hearSuch music of true love you'll think those birdsThat move the gentle concords of the nightIn these bright locks make bower continual.[Kisses her hair]For every hour of your ungracious star,With the full circuit of a smiling moonI'll pension you, till covetous of timeYou'll wish your sorrows had been more, not less.Dion.Not one embrace for me?Oc.Before I makeMy plea for pardon?Dion.That may wait, my son,For empty hours. This is too full of joy.Oc.I did not go to Italy, my lord,But to the Leontines——Dion.O, go not backTo read the bloodprints of bewildered feet.Now as the soft life-wooing breath that movesSo swift upon the track of orient stormsThat ere the woeful people dry their tearsEarth is new-clad in garments of the sunAnd balm is in the air like blessings winged,Fanning delight in every lifted cheek,So treads this hour at heel of flying woe.[Enter Brentio, rear]

Aris.Deep, deep, my thoughts, dive to some bed of death

In my wide-regioned self, nor come again

Like sea-return�d corpse, with livid grin

And foul, accreted horror, to beg anew

For burial.

[Dion comes in and walks slowly across to Aristocles]

You'll see her now?

Dion.See whom?

Aris.Your wife.

Dion.My wife? Have I a wife?

Aris.She waitsYour summons by Diana's altar.

Aris.She waits

Your summons by Diana's altar.

Dion.Ah!So near?

Dion.Ah!

So near?

Aris.Theano waits with her.

Dion.My niece?She's safe?

Dion.My niece?

She's safe?

Aris.By miracle. The unknown knightBore her from out Phillistus' burning house.

Aris.By miracle. The unknown knight

Bore her from out Phillistus' burning house.

Dion.Still swells our debt to him.

Aris.You'll see her now?

Dion.See whom, my friend?

Aris.Your wife, sir,—Aratea.

Dion.When you repeat the name I half believeI have a wife. Your voice was ever true,Nor fed me with the rifled husks of speech.... Was she not fair?

Dion.When you repeat the name I half believe

I have a wife. Your voice was ever true,

Nor fed me with the rifled husks of speech.

... Was she not fair?

Aris.My lord?

Dion.How fair, think you?

Aris.Who, sir, could say? Such beauty scorns all wordsAnd writes itself but in the wondering eye.

Aris.Who, sir, could say? Such beauty scorns all words

And writes itself but in the wondering eye.

Dion.You shift. You shift. Your tongue is beauty's pencil.Did heaven lack a goddess you might limnA fairer than a Venus for the place.Speak on. Tell me her sum to the last doit.The balance of a hair—a smile unborn—I'd not strike off.

Dion.You shift. You shift. Your tongue is beauty's pencil.

Did heaven lack a goddess you might limn

A fairer than a Venus for the place.

Speak on. Tell me her sum to the last doit.

The balance of a hair—a smile unborn—

I'd not strike off.

Aris.[Coldly]You know her worth, my lord.

Dion.Nay, the appraising eye when fixed too nearThe thing it loves distorts the sweet proportion.You can adjust your gaze, take stand to bringHer beauty to perfection's single-point.

Dion.Nay, the appraising eye when fixed too near

The thing it loves distorts the sweet proportion.

You can adjust your gaze, take stand to bring

Her beauty to perfection's single-point.

Aris.What matter? All is yours.

Dion.Ah, if 'twere mineI'd care not, happy then to know 'twas mine.But when we've lost we're moved to question, sir,Else are we crippled twice in our estate,Once in the loss, again to know it not.

Dion.Ah, if 'twere mine

I'd care not, happy then to know 'twas mine.

But when we've lost we're moved to question, sir,

Else are we crippled twice in our estate,

Once in the loss, again to know it not.

Aris.Strange speech, my lord. I hardly know your tongue.

Dion.You can not understand, for you've no wife.No more have I. But once.... Yes, yes, I'll see her.Wilt bring her here?

Dion.You can not understand, for you've no wife.

No more have I. But once.... Yes, yes, I'll see her.

Wilt bring her here?

Aris.I bring her? Here? To you?

Dion.If 'tis too sad a service——

Aris.Nay, I go.[Exit]

Dion.I am forgot in his great pity of her.

[Enter Calippus]

Cal.Lord Dion, Heraclides begs to see you.

Dion.Is he alone?

Cal.�gisthus comes with him.

Dion.Bid them into the banquet hall.

Cal.My lord,You will not see them?

Cal.My lord,

You will not see them?

Dion.Ay, there's naught to fear.Tell them I'll join them soon.[Exit Calippus]

Dion.Ay, there's naught to fear.

Tell them I'll join them soon.

[Exit Calippus]

Now riven heart,Close firm as mountain bulwark that beats offThe Thracian wind.

Now riven heart,

Close firm as mountain bulwark that beats off

The Thracian wind.

[Enter Aristocles with Theano and Aratea]

Dion.[To Theano]Good welcome, niece.[He embraces Theano, and looks silently at Aratea]

Dion.[To Theano]Good welcome, niece.

[He embraces Theano, and looks silently at Aratea]

Ara.[Falteringly]My lord——

Dion.Your friend, your lover—ay, your slave,—but notYour lord, sweet Aratea.

Dion.Your friend, your lover—ay, your slave,—but not

Your lord, sweet Aratea.

Ara.O! Condemned!

Dion.Not that—but——

Ara.Then you'll hear me?

Dion.No! Your voiceRenews in me the battle that I thoughtWas fought to end.

Dion.No! Your voice

Renews in me the battle that I thought

Was fought to end.

Ara.But I could say, my lord——

Dion.Ay, you could say what would revoke the sun,Turn back into his heart his golden spears,And from the sapphire battlements make pourSurpris�d night! How easy then to shakeThe scarce-sworn vow from my unfended breastTo melt like snowflake caught in lap of June!

Dion.Ay, you could say what would revoke the sun,

Turn back into his heart his golden spears,

And from the sapphire battlements make pour

Surpris�d night! How easy then to shake

The scarce-sworn vow from my unfended breast

To melt like snowflake caught in lap of June!

Ara.O, sir——

Dion.You've that in you defeats resolve,And casts in broil the mind's high chancery.I will not hear a word! 'Tis my defence,Not cruelty. All honor shall be thineApart from me.

Dion.You've that in you defeats resolve,

And casts in broil the mind's high chancery.

I will not hear a word! 'Tis my defence,

Not cruelty. All honor shall be thine

Apart from me.

Ara.What honor may be mineApart from thee?

Ara.What honor may be mine

Apart from thee?

Dion.Nay, question not my justice!

Ara.You think me vile, my lord?

Dion.Mayhap I do!Were there no poisons left in Sicily?No rank, night-sweating herbs whose bane might workProud honor's choice? Were daggers grown too bluntTo pierce fair flesh? What, not a rope—nor cord?No garters—strips of silken robes——

Dion.Mayhap I do!

Were there no poisons left in Sicily?

No rank, night-sweating herbs whose bane might work

Proud honor's choice? Were daggers grown too blunt

To pierce fair flesh? What, not a rope—nor cord?

No garters—strips of silken robes——

Aris.O, spareTo accuse a soul who erred that she might stillBe true to Heaven.

Aris.O, spare

To accuse a soul who erred that she might still

Be true to Heaven.

Dion.True? By Pallas! True?

Aris.Sir, she obeyed the gods who bid us waitAnd work on earth our destiny.

Aris.Sir, she obeyed the gods who bid us wait

And work on earth our destiny.

Dion.The godsSometimes write in our fates that to seek deathIs what will solely please them.

Dion.The gods

Sometimes write in our fates that to seek death

Is what will solely please them.

Aris.Must I seeThe sun of justice in you set?

Aris.Must I see

The sun of justice in you set?

Dion.Ah, friend,Do you not see 'tis my desire that criesTo keep her still? 'Tis passion weighing doubts,Hoping to find them light as rising vapors.

Dion.Ah, friend,

Do you not see 'tis my desire that cries

To keep her still? 'Tis passion weighing doubts,

Hoping to find them light as rising vapors.

Aris.Though she had struck at life within her heart,Swart Atropos had dropped her shears for pity,Nor helped so fair a woe to death. Yet you——

Aris.Though she had struck at life within her heart,

Swart Atropos had dropped her shears for pity,

Nor helped so fair a woe to death. Yet you——

Dion.O, she is pure, but not to me! 'Tis stampedUpon my soul that she is dark to meThough fair to Heaven!

Dion.O, she is pure, but not to me! 'Tis stamped

Upon my soul that she is dark to me

Though fair to Heaven!

The.Hear her, sir. She tookNo vows. Her lips were dumb——

The.Hear her, sir. She took

No vows. Her lips were dumb——

Dion.O, vows! You speakOf words?

Dion.O, vows! You speak

Of words?

The.But——

Dion.Silence, niece!

Aris.Receive her, sir.

Dion.Never, my friend! What can you know of this?

Aris.I know she is Pandora without taint!The secret pattern lost in mourning heavenWhen rapt Hephaistos shaped the perfect clayBy Pallas' breath made vital! Sir, receive her!Let me implore it by our years of love.

Aris.I know she is Pandora without taint!

The secret pattern lost in mourning heaven

When rapt Hephaistos shaped the perfect clay

By Pallas' breath made vital! Sir, receive her!

Let me implore it by our years of love.

Dion.Thou'rt dear to me as man may be to man,But wert thou dear as god may be to god,I could not grant thy wish.

Dion.Thou'rt dear to me as man may be to man,

But wert thou dear as god may be to god,

I could not grant thy wish.

Aris.Then she is mine!And, could I snatch a tear from Dian's cheekWhen bowed at secret altar she renewsHer vestal sanctity, 'twould not be lessUnspotted to my love! O, Aratea,Wilt come? My wife? Say not thou lov'st, but clingUnto my breast as trusting bud to bough,Or but uplook with eyes whose shaken seaIs calmed in mine.

Aris.Then she is mine!

And, could I snatch a tear from Dian's cheek

When bowed at secret altar she renews

Her vestal sanctity, 'twould not be less

Unspotted to my love! O, Aratea,

Wilt come? My wife? Say not thou lov'st, but cling

Unto my breast as trusting bud to bough,

Or but uplook with eyes whose shaken sea

Is calmed in mine.

Dion.Ye powers that rule my being,Stop every conscious note but wonder!

Dion.Ye powers that rule my being,

Stop every conscious note but wonder!

Aris.Ah,I've heard it said Apollo loved my mother,And I could wish it true, that god-descendedI might embrace thyself, who surely artOf high Olympus born—whose mortal partWears beauty as the night her stars.

Aris.Ah,

I've heard it said Apollo loved my mother,

And I could wish it true, that god-descended

I might embrace thyself, who surely art

Of high Olympus born—whose mortal part

Wears beauty as the night her stars.

Dion.BeholdMe desolate, ye gods! Is this my friend?Nay, thou hast given friendship such a blowShe dies from earth, nor in eternal grovesMay she be healed.

Dion.Behold

Me desolate, ye gods! Is this my friend?

Nay, thou hast given friendship such a blow

She dies from earth, nor in eternal groves

May she be healed.

Aris.Not mine, but yours, the blow.

Dion.Ocrastes struck me, and I rose again.My wife was taken, and I lived to sigh.But you—O, now the quick of life is seizedWith mortal ill. Now shakes my earth to centre,And on me falling bow her peak�d tops.Even here and now I die. All fellowshipForego with gallant breath, and lay me downLike forest trunk that pours its wasting heartFrom every lopp�d limb.[Theano attempts to comfort him]Go from me, girl.My wounded senses shrink away from lifeTill gentlest touches are as brands of pain.Dumb be my lips. I'll speak no more on earth.

Dion.Ocrastes struck me, and I rose again.

My wife was taken, and I lived to sigh.

But you—O, now the quick of life is seized

With mortal ill. Now shakes my earth to centre,

And on me falling bow her peak�d tops.

Even here and now I die. All fellowship

Forego with gallant breath, and lay me down

Like forest trunk that pours its wasting heart

From every lopp�d limb.

[Theano attempts to comfort him]

Go from me, girl.

My wounded senses shrink away from life

Till gentlest touches are as brands of pain.

Dumb be my lips. I'll speak no more on earth.

Ara.Keep you that word! Thy silence is my speech!Know, Dion, though the knowing now is naught,Ocrastes left me ere his marriage vowWas cold in air, nor took one bridal kiss.Nor have these eyes beheld him since that hour,Nor will the eye of mortal see him more.The sea now holds him to her buried heart.Some shelly couch washed with a Nereid's tearsIs his last bed.

Ara.Keep you that word! Thy silence is my speech!

Know, Dion, though the knowing now is naught,

Ocrastes left me ere his marriage vow

Was cold in air, nor took one bridal kiss.

Nor have these eyes beheld him since that hour,

Nor will the eye of mortal see him more.

The sea now holds him to her buried heart.

Some shelly couch washed with a Nereid's tears

Is his last bed.

Dion.And you untouched ... untouched.

Ara.I grieve you did not know me better, sir.You too, my lord Aristocles. Those cords—Those daggers—poisons—had been quickly found——

Ara.I grieve you did not know me better, sir.

You too, my lord Aristocles. Those cords—

Those daggers—poisons—had been quickly found——

Dion.Untouched! No bridal kiss! My blindness goes.But Heaven, in pity, shut me dark again,For I have wronged Ocrastes—who is dead.How could your woman heart not know the truth—That he thus saved you from a baser touchTo be restored all perfect, pure to me?And he is dead. Give me your pity, gods!Now we will mourn, Theano. Here, my daughter.Our griefs let marry in our kissing tears.[Embraces Theano]But there's a brightness yet in this dark woe.[Advances to Aratea]Once more, my love, my wife, you are all mine.[Aristocles steps before Aratea]What mean you now?

Dion.Untouched! No bridal kiss! My blindness goes.

But Heaven, in pity, shut me dark again,

For I have wronged Ocrastes—who is dead.

How could your woman heart not know the truth—

That he thus saved you from a baser touch

To be restored all perfect, pure to me?

And he is dead. Give me your pity, gods!

Now we will mourn, Theano. Here, my daughter.

Our griefs let marry in our kissing tears.

[Embraces Theano]

But there's a brightness yet in this dark woe.

[Advances to Aratea]

Once more, my love, my wife, you are all mine.

[Aristocles steps before Aratea]

What mean you now?

Aris.To guard my own. For youThe pearl of opportunity is lost.Briareus' hands could not now snatch it backWhere 't pales on time's retreating wave.

Aris.To guard my own. For you

The pearl of opportunity is lost.

Briareus' hands could not now snatch it back

Where 't pales on time's retreating wave.

Dion.By Mars,I'll pass you, sir!

Dion.By Mars,

I'll pass you, sir!

The.Let Aratea speak.Is 't not for her to choose?

The.Let Aratea speak.

Is 't not for her to choose?

Dion.A wedded womanCan have no choice.

Dion.A wedded woman

Can have no choice.

The.O, Dion, be a god,Not man, and grant it.

The.O, Dion, be a god,

Not man, and grant it.

Aris.Choose thine own. As freeAs new created star, fix where thou wilt.

Aris.Choose thine own. As free

As new created star, fix where thou wilt.

Diem.Ay, choose! Thou art my wife. Thy holy truthWill fail thee not. Speak! End this bitter follyFrom which the gods would turn shame-burning face!

Diem.Ay, choose! Thou art my wife. Thy holy truth

Will fail thee not. Speak! End this bitter folly

From which the gods would turn shame-burning face!

The.Not if all tale be true.

Dion.You speak too much!

Ara.First swear, my lords, however I may choose,You'll still be friends, as honored and as trueAs though this face I loathe had never comeBetween your loves.

Ara.First swear, my lords, however I may choose,

You'll still be friends, as honored and as true

As though this face I loathe had never come

Between your loves.

Aris.I swear to you my friendShall be my friend.

Aris.I swear to you my friend

Shall be my friend.

Ara.You, sir?

Dion.I will forgive him,For love has made him mad.

Dion.I will forgive him,

For love has made him mad.

Ara.Swear it by Heaven.

Dion.By Heaven. Now wilt speak?

Ara.Such sacred oathsNeed sacrificial rite, and here I giveMy blood.

Ara.Such sacred oaths

Need sacrificial rite, and here I give

My blood.

[Suddenly draws a dagger and attempts to stab herself. Aristocles, watching eagerly, seizes dagger, and supporting her speaks wildly]

Aris.Think not that you can fly me now!Though thou wert dead still wouldst thou live for meIn such dear semblance of remembered showThat I would seek to woo thy houseless spiritE'er give thee o'er unclasped to Heaven!

Aris.Think not that you can fly me now!

Though thou wert dead still wouldst thou live for me

In such dear semblance of remembered show

That I would seek to woo thy houseless spirit

E'er give thee o'er unclasped to Heaven!

Ara.Ah![Releases herself]

Dion.But now she lives, and living she is mine.

Aris.Her lips, not yours, shall say!

Dion.Lost man, thou'rt crazed.I pity thee. Speak, wife.

Dion.Lost man, thou'rt crazed.

I pity thee. Speak, wife.

Ara.O, blow me, winds,To some unpeopled sphere, and find me peaceAs sweet as his who cropped the first day fruitsOf green unharrowed earth!

Ara.O, blow me, winds,

To some unpeopled sphere, and find me peace

As sweet as his who cropped the first day fruits

Of green unharrowed earth!

Dion.This is no answer.

Ara.My lord, if 't be my prayers can save my soul,In some far fane I'll serve the priestess' cupTill Death is kind and calls me.

Ara.My lord, if 't be my prayers can save my soul,

In some far fane I'll serve the priestess' cup

Till Death is kind and calls me.

Dion.[Seizing her arm]Answer me!Art mine, or his?

Dion.[Seizing her arm]Answer me!

Art mine, or his?

Ara.Till truth no more is truthThou art my lord.

Ara.Till truth no more is truth

Thou art my lord.

[Aristocles turns and moves apart, covering his face with his mantle. Aratea sinks feebly and Theano supports her]

Dion.[To Aristocles]Now you've your answer! Niece,Lead out my wife.

Dion.[To Aristocles]Now you've your answer! Niece,

Lead out my wife.

[Theano takes Aratea from the room, through curtained entrance, left]

Aristocles—my friend—I pity and forgive thee. When Love drives,His chariot reins are veins of mortal men,Who fain must course the bright god's destinyNor reck the road. 'Tis strange—not that you loved her—But that I did not dream it must be so,She being the top and bloom of all her sex,As you, my lord, of yours. A mortal judgeWould grant you her, but God gave her to me,And I doubt not He blundered to a purposeBeyond our dream. Ah me, the night's red eyesLooked fatal on the sail that bore you hither.Cursed be my prayers that drew you from your Athens!Farewell! For you must go. Small SicilyNo more may hold us both.

Aristocles—my friend—

I pity and forgive thee. When Love drives,

His chariot reins are veins of mortal men,

Who fain must course the bright god's destiny

Nor reck the road. 'Tis strange—not that you loved her—

But that I did not dream it must be so,

She being the top and bloom of all her sex,

As you, my lord, of yours. A mortal judge

Would grant you her, but God gave her to me,

And I doubt not He blundered to a purpose

Beyond our dream. Ah me, the night's red eyes

Looked fatal on the sail that bore you hither.

Cursed be my prayers that drew you from your Athens!

Farewell! For you must go. Small Sicily

No more may hold us both.

[Re-enter Theano]

The.She's better, sir.

Dion.That's well.

[Enter Calippus, through hall, rear]

Your news?

Cal.Our saviour of the nightNow waits to see you.

Cal.Our saviour of the night

Now waits to see you.

Dion.The warrior? Ask him in![Exit Calippus]

Dion.The warrior? Ask him in!

[Exit Calippus]

The.I'll speak the thanks he waited not to hear,Although my heart gives none for this poor life.

The.I'll speak the thanks he waited not to hear,

Although my heart gives none for this poor life.

[Enter warrior, rear, still in arms and helmeted]

Dion.Thou'rt welcome as the gods. As lightning makesThe world now bright, now dark, you fill and voidThe circle of our sense, but, here or there,'Tis ours to grant you what you will if powerBe in us.

Dion.Thou'rt welcome as the gods. As lightning makes

The world now bright, now dark, you fill and void

The circle of our sense, but, here or there,

'Tis ours to grant you what you will if power

Be in us.

Warrior.[Kneeling]For one thing I sue—forgiveness.[Removes helmet]

Warrior.[Kneeling]For one thing I sue—forgiveness.

[Removes helmet]

Dion.Ocrastes!

Oc.Ay.

Dion.How couldst be hid from meThough veiled in seven-fold steel?

Dion.How couldst be hid from me

Though veiled in seven-fold steel?

The.Not dead—not dead——

Oc.[Embracing Theano]My heart, look up. The long tale of my sinsWill be as virtue's song when in love's ear'Tis whispered. Nay, weep not. Those woes are sealed.

Oc.[Embracing Theano]My heart, look up. The long tale of my sins

Will be as virtue's song when in love's ear

'Tis whispered. Nay, weep not. Those woes are sealed.

The.O, canst forgive me?

Oc.It is I must sue.Nay, nay, my sweet, no liquid gem drop nowOn misery's broken altar, too long richWith these eyes' jewels.

Oc.It is I must sue.

Nay, nay, my sweet, no liquid gem drop now

On misery's broken altar, too long rich

With these eyes' jewels.

The.Ah, thou'rt mine ... still mine.

Oc.Ere I have done your constancy shall hearSuch music of true love you'll think those birdsThat move the gentle concords of the nightIn these bright locks make bower continual.[Kisses her hair]For every hour of your ungracious star,With the full circuit of a smiling moonI'll pension you, till covetous of timeYou'll wish your sorrows had been more, not less.

Oc.Ere I have done your constancy shall hear

Such music of true love you'll think those birds

That move the gentle concords of the night

In these bright locks make bower continual.

[Kisses her hair]

For every hour of your ungracious star,

With the full circuit of a smiling moon

I'll pension you, till covetous of time

You'll wish your sorrows had been more, not less.

Dion.Not one embrace for me?

Oc.Before I makeMy plea for pardon?

Oc.Before I make

My plea for pardon?

Dion.That may wait, my son,For empty hours. This is too full of joy.

Dion.That may wait, my son,

For empty hours. This is too full of joy.

Oc.I did not go to Italy, my lord,But to the Leontines——

Oc.I did not go to Italy, my lord,

But to the Leontines——

Dion.O, go not backTo read the bloodprints of bewildered feet.Now as the soft life-wooing breath that movesSo swift upon the track of orient stormsThat ere the woeful people dry their tearsEarth is new-clad in garments of the sunAnd balm is in the air like blessings winged,Fanning delight in every lifted cheek,So treads this hour at heel of flying woe.

Dion.O, go not back

To read the bloodprints of bewildered feet.

Now as the soft life-wooing breath that moves

So swift upon the track of orient storms

That ere the woeful people dry their tears

Earth is new-clad in garments of the sun

And balm is in the air like blessings winged,

Fanning delight in every lifted cheek,

So treads this hour at heel of flying woe.

[Enter Brentio, rear]

Bren.My lord, the people in the banquet hall are drinking all the cellars dry. You'd weep to see it, sir.[Sees Theano and Ocrastes. Looks in bewilderment from one to the other, claps hand to his purse and runs out]Dion.The slave's beset.Oc.He's drunk, my lord.Dion.I had forgot Heraclides.[Going]Ocrastes, come. We'll not so soon be parted. You to my wife, Theano.[Exeunt Dion and Ocrastes, rear; Theano through curtains, left]

Dion.The slave's beset.

Oc.He's drunk, my lord.

Dion.I had forgot Heraclides.[Going]Ocrastes, come. We'll not so soon be parted. You to my wife, Theano.[Exeunt Dion and Ocrastes, rear; Theano through curtains, left]

Aris.[Alone]Dion, how oft hast sworn I was thy dearest,Yet go to happiness while I droop hereAs to my grave. Nor dost thou need me moreThan quickest life its century-buried dead.Yet one is yon, behind those curtains close,Who starves even as you feed. Her love is mine.By Heaven, I know 'tis mine! Yet I must go—Leave her to perish. Ay, her flower soulNot long will bear the weight of unloved love.[Soldiers enter hall, rear, drinking and singing]O, Helen had a rosy lip,And only one might kiss it,But all of mistress wine may sipAnd she will never miss it.Ho, brothers all are we,Brothers all are we!We've sworn to the last red drop,Be it found in a heart or found in a cup,And brothers all we be!A soldier's trade it is to die,And what poor fools are theyWho for a soldier's death will sigh—'Tis all in a business way.Ho, brothers all are we, &c.[Exeunt drunkenly]Aris.O, I am wounded in the characterI sought to build so giant-like that asA figure on the skies all men would seeAnd longing upward scorn their baser state!Now am I grown deform�d with a scarThat all eternity can not make fair.... To go ... nor say farewell. To go ... to go,And see no more her face ... that face which isImagination sighing in a word.That face where Beauty with her mysteriesSits listening to Magi of the air,Or ocean lapping on eternal sands.'Tis as a star should to a flower turn,And yet remember heaven.[Approaches curtains and kneels]Fare thee well!O thou whose body is a living urnFull of distill�d sweets from every meadWhere Love hath set a flower! Whose soul compactsAll earth's divinity, and leaves profaneAll space where it is not![Arises and starts out slowly. At the door he looks back. Aratea appears at curtains, but does not see him]O, I must fly ...Must fly ... nor hear again her voice that luresAs it would draw the fallen golden worldO'er desert ages to man's memory.Ara.[Sees him and advances]You here, Aristocles?Aris.Wilt say farewell?Ara.[Going back]Farewell.Aris.No word but that?Ara.That is too much.Aris.[Approaching]Too much?Ara.I—faint again. Nay, touch me not!Aris.Am I so perilous to thee? My handHas had no commerce yet with cruelty.Ara.The moon with silver foot steps not more softAmong the tears of night than falls thy touchOn me, who, poorer than the night, must goUncomforted. Thou'lt leave this place at onceIf thou hast pity.Aris.Ah, had I a heartGreat-swelling as the sad Molurian mount,Or pil�d peaks that wreck the sailing moon,'Twere not enough to melt upon this woe!Ara.Wretched, O wretched me! To be the curseOf what is best on earth!Aris.Peace, unjust lips!Thou art a rose that, rooted in Elysium,Leans sorrowing to the world that it may seeWhat beauty is and know then how to dream.O, close those other worlds, your eyes, that IMay live in this![She moves back]Stay, I must speak!Ara.No, no!Aris.And you must hear me.Ara.Silence, sir, is best.In her deep bosom let our woes be buried,As Night doth shepherd all the cares of dayTill Heaven think the world asleep, though 'neathThe dark are hot and staring eyes.Aris.Nay, nay,Put courage in thy heart to gender wingsThat we may dart as swallows to the sunAnd tread the rosy air where love may breathe!Ara.My lord——Aris.Come! come! Greece is our home of light.There you, my wife, shall rule a lesser heavenAnd tutor souls for God's.[She turns to go]One moment hear me!You love me, Aratea.Ara.Fare you well.Aris.[Against the curtains]First say thou lovest me!Dost thou not hearA voice at night when calm Eirene leadsSleep to all eyes but thine?Ara.Have mercy, sir!Aris.What leap of soul or dream of sense hast thouThat is not sweeter for you hold me dear?When Theia's daughter, priestess gray, unhoodsHer morning face, and all her clouds of roseWith flying petals light the waking world,Does not your ecstasy swim on the floodOf my remembered eyes, and their delightRe-jewel beauty's diadem?Ara.I beg——Aris.When throbbing wonders of a dying sunTrail off their glories like escaping souls,And Night with lustred heaven round her neckLures up immensities, whose spirit longsThrough all your longings till it leads your ownTo crowned and still content?Ara.Will you not go?Aris.And when thy gaze is on the sibyl sea,Striving to read her ancient wave-writ script,And break the seal a differing language setsUpon her mighty tongue, whence cometh peaceLike full and silent answer to your heart?Ara.If this be love, then let it be mine still.For it may be without a touch of hands.Ay, though in Athens you must live and moveStill are you mine in mysteries and joys.I thank you, sir, for having taught me loveThat is forever holy, wronging none.Aris.Nay, Aratea, man can not be GodAnd pipe all Heaven through a mortal reed!Come to my arms, O life and soul of me!As chaste verbenas on an altar kiss,As streamlets join in soft approving shade,As clouds immingle in the glancing sun,So shall our loves unchided of the skies.Not leafy choirs that anthem Flora in,Or those sweet songs that in day's virgin hourTheir hymeneal pour from feathery pipesThat stale Apollo's lute, shall win more smilesFrom the consenting gods!Ara.O, music, breathOf sin!Aris.Not so! To love thee not were sin!The adoration of so fair a soulWould save me were I damned! And thou art mine.By stars that knit their motions with our fates,The season-childing sun, great Heaven itself——Ara.O, not by Heaven!Aris.And Heaven's all-greater Lord,Who gives us souls that we may love all beauty,And gives us beauty that our souls may love it,I swear thee mine!Ara.Your oath—your oath to Dion!Aris.Thou 'rt mine above all vows! Thou canst not letAris.Thou 'rt mine above all vows! Thou canst not letA mock-enthron�d custom speak to God?An atom fettered with nice consequenceBar up the gates of love that are as wideAs His earth-belting arms?Ara.No pity, none.Aris.My heart, say thou wilt come.Ara.'Tis death.Aris.'Tis life!Come now, O now, else are we cast apartFar as the dismal Night heaves her vast sigh,Far as the laboring Chaos breathing blows,—Perchance to hurl eternally aboutThe farthest stars that from oppos�d heavensDart fiery scouts that die ere they have met,So long their journey is. Or, gloomier fate,Condemn�d sit like stones that once could weepForever in the cave of ended thingsThat deep in some immortal Lemnos liesNor ever opens its dank gates to day!O, come ere we are lost! Be thy fair armsThe rainbow girdle to this longing stormAnd its rude breast will pillow thee as softAs Leda when, cool-rocked on lily couch,The great down-bosomed god swam to her love!Come, Aratea, heart of life! O nowThis pulse speaks back to mine—this bosom throbsLike heaven's Artemis unto her own![Kisses her]O kiss that holds the mornings of all time,And dewy seasons of the ungathered rose,Plant once again thy summer on my lips!Ara.How dear is death that kisses with such breath!Thine eyes are seas where sighing ardors blowLove's argosies from island bowers of dreamInto my heart. Save me, Aristocles!O me, I'm netted in these golden curlsWith web as sure as that the crafty godOnce wove round Aphrodite's blushing bedAnd trapped great Ares, sport for gazing heaven!O, I am lost![Casts him off]Away! away! Nor mayMy lips move more on earth but in a prayerTo cleanse this moment's madness from our souls!Aris.Wouldst leave me now to death?Ara.Ay, unto death,Lest Truth and Honor die! Thy way's not mine.My aspen soul would shake its house of fear,Imagine thunder in the bee's soft hum,And mountain-rocking winds in harmless airThat would not move the purple down of clouds.To so great compass now my horror growsThat I myself seem Chaos. 'Tis as I stood'Mong heaps of ruined destinies with lifeStill mourning in them. I am still for fearAnother world will crumble as I stir.Aris.Move, Aratea! Speak!Ara.Dost hear that sound?It is the rustle of tear-dropping godsWho gather all the golden virtues upVouchsafed to earth and trampled low by man.See how they rise with their immortal store,A moving radiance like the march of light,And leave us dark for want of what they bear?Far, far till stars must upward look to see—A sapphire trail through the ethereal rose!Now—earth and darkness—and you call it love![Sinks down]Aris.[Lifting her]Fair soul, be mortal yet!Ara.[Going from him]Who leaps for starsMust fall a million leagues too short, or elseMust fall a million leagues too short, or elseTake vantage not of earth.[Goes to curtains]Farewell—till death.Aris.'Twill not be long to wait. Thou canst not liveIn Dion's arms.Ara.Nor thine. As well to hopeThe air-winged seed will root in vacancy,And high mid-nothing hang with lob�d bloom,As that the rose of love will flower fromThe wreck of men and gods.[He kneels and kisses her robe. She goes out]Aris.Before I dieI've touched divinity.[As he rises a slave rushes in, rear, and kneels]Slave.My lord!Aris.You serveLord Heraclides, do you not?Slave.I do,And know his heart—his traitor heart.Aris.Speak, man.Slave.You love the noble Dion?Aris.[Starts]Dion? Ay,I love him well.Slave.Sir, Heraclides comesTo slay him. Dion, the good! But you will save him!�gisthus and Callorus aid my master.They're bringing Dion here.Aris.Here? Haste! Bring youOcrastes and Calippus! Freedom! Go![Slave runs out. Aristocles steps back unseen as Dion, Heraclides, �gisthus and Callorus enter. The slave running out meets them]Her.What do you, sirrah?[The slave runs by without answer]Go! You'll not outrunThe hangman![�gisthus and Callorus keep in rear of Heraclides, who walks with Dion]�g.[To Callorus]We're betrayed.Callo.[To Heraclides]Do not delayThe blow.Her.[To Dion]You like our plan, my lord?�g.[To Heraclides]Strike now.Dion.'Tis balm to Syracuse. Your hand upon it,And pardon me my left.Her.With all my heart!

Aris.[Alone]Dion, how oft hast sworn I was thy dearest,

Yet go to happiness while I droop here

As to my grave. Nor dost thou need me more

Than quickest life its century-buried dead.

Yet one is yon, behind those curtains close,

Who starves even as you feed. Her love is mine.

By Heaven, I know 'tis mine! Yet I must go—

Leave her to perish. Ay, her flower soul

Not long will bear the weight of unloved love.

[Soldiers enter hall, rear, drinking and singing]

O, Helen had a rosy lip,And only one might kiss it,But all of mistress wine may sipAnd she will never miss it.

O, Helen had a rosy lip,

And only one might kiss it,

But all of mistress wine may sip

And she will never miss it.

Ho, brothers all are we,Brothers all are we!We've sworn to the last red drop,Be it found in a heart or found in a cup,And brothers all we be!

Ho, brothers all are we,

Brothers all are we!

We've sworn to the last red drop,

Be it found in a heart or found in a cup,

And brothers all we be!

A soldier's trade it is to die,And what poor fools are theyWho for a soldier's death will sigh—'Tis all in a business way.

A soldier's trade it is to die,

And what poor fools are they

Who for a soldier's death will sigh—

'Tis all in a business way.

Ho, brothers all are we, &c.[Exeunt drunkenly]

Ho, brothers all are we, &c.

[Exeunt drunkenly]

Aris.O, I am wounded in the characterI sought to build so giant-like that asA figure on the skies all men would seeAnd longing upward scorn their baser state!Now am I grown deform�d with a scarThat all eternity can not make fair.... To go ... nor say farewell. To go ... to go,And see no more her face ... that face which isImagination sighing in a word.That face where Beauty with her mysteriesSits listening to Magi of the air,Or ocean lapping on eternal sands.'Tis as a star should to a flower turn,And yet remember heaven.[Approaches curtains and kneels]Fare thee well!O thou whose body is a living urnFull of distill�d sweets from every meadWhere Love hath set a flower! Whose soul compactsAll earth's divinity, and leaves profaneAll space where it is not![Arises and starts out slowly. At the door he looks back. Aratea appears at curtains, but does not see him]O, I must fly ...Must fly ... nor hear again her voice that luresAs it would draw the fallen golden worldO'er desert ages to man's memory.

Aris.O, I am wounded in the character

I sought to build so giant-like that as

A figure on the skies all men would see

And longing upward scorn their baser state!

Now am I grown deform�d with a scar

That all eternity can not make fair.

... To go ... nor say farewell. To go ... to go,

And see no more her face ... that face which is

Imagination sighing in a word.

That face where Beauty with her mysteries

Sits listening to Magi of the air,

Or ocean lapping on eternal sands.

'Tis as a star should to a flower turn,

And yet remember heaven.

[Approaches curtains and kneels]

Fare thee well!

O thou whose body is a living urn

Full of distill�d sweets from every mead

Where Love hath set a flower! Whose soul compacts

All earth's divinity, and leaves profane

All space where it is not!

[Arises and starts out slowly. At the door he looks back. Aratea appears at curtains, but does not see him]

O, I must fly ...

Must fly ... nor hear again her voice that lures

As it would draw the fallen golden world

O'er desert ages to man's memory.

Ara.[Sees him and advances]You here, Aristocles?

Aris.Wilt say farewell?

Ara.[Going back]Farewell.

Aris.No word but that?

Ara.That is too much.

Aris.[Approaching]Too much?

Ara.I—faint again. Nay, touch me not!

Aris.Am I so perilous to thee? My handHas had no commerce yet with cruelty.

Aris.Am I so perilous to thee? My hand

Has had no commerce yet with cruelty.

Ara.The moon with silver foot steps not more softAmong the tears of night than falls thy touchOn me, who, poorer than the night, must goUncomforted. Thou'lt leave this place at onceIf thou hast pity.

Ara.The moon with silver foot steps not more soft

Among the tears of night than falls thy touch

On me, who, poorer than the night, must go

Uncomforted. Thou'lt leave this place at once

If thou hast pity.

Aris.Ah, had I a heartGreat-swelling as the sad Molurian mount,Or pil�d peaks that wreck the sailing moon,'Twere not enough to melt upon this woe!

Aris.Ah, had I a heart

Great-swelling as the sad Molurian mount,

Or pil�d peaks that wreck the sailing moon,

'Twere not enough to melt upon this woe!

Ara.Wretched, O wretched me! To be the curseOf what is best on earth!

Ara.Wretched, O wretched me! To be the curse

Of what is best on earth!

Aris.Peace, unjust lips!Thou art a rose that, rooted in Elysium,Leans sorrowing to the world that it may seeWhat beauty is and know then how to dream.O, close those other worlds, your eyes, that IMay live in this![She moves back]Stay, I must speak!

Aris.Peace, unjust lips!

Thou art a rose that, rooted in Elysium,

Leans sorrowing to the world that it may see

What beauty is and know then how to dream.

O, close those other worlds, your eyes, that I

May live in this![She moves back]

Stay, I must speak!

Ara.No, no!

Aris.And you must hear me.

Ara.Silence, sir, is best.In her deep bosom let our woes be buried,As Night doth shepherd all the cares of dayTill Heaven think the world asleep, though 'neathThe dark are hot and staring eyes.

Ara.Silence, sir, is best.

In her deep bosom let our woes be buried,

As Night doth shepherd all the cares of day

Till Heaven think the world asleep, though 'neath

The dark are hot and staring eyes.

Aris.Nay, nay,Put courage in thy heart to gender wingsThat we may dart as swallows to the sunAnd tread the rosy air where love may breathe!

Aris.Nay, nay,

Put courage in thy heart to gender wings

That we may dart as swallows to the sun

And tread the rosy air where love may breathe!

Ara.My lord——

Aris.Come! come! Greece is our home of light.There you, my wife, shall rule a lesser heavenAnd tutor souls for God's.[She turns to go]One moment hear me!You love me, Aratea.

Aris.Come! come! Greece is our home of light.

There you, my wife, shall rule a lesser heaven

And tutor souls for God's.[She turns to go]

One moment hear me!

You love me, Aratea.

Ara.Fare you well.

Aris.[Against the curtains]First say thou lovest me!Dost thou not hearA voice at night when calm Eirene leadsSleep to all eyes but thine?

Aris.[Against the curtains]First say thou lovest me!

Dost thou not hear

A voice at night when calm Eirene leads

Sleep to all eyes but thine?

Ara.Have mercy, sir!

Aris.What leap of soul or dream of sense hast thouThat is not sweeter for you hold me dear?When Theia's daughter, priestess gray, unhoodsHer morning face, and all her clouds of roseWith flying petals light the waking world,Does not your ecstasy swim on the floodOf my remembered eyes, and their delightRe-jewel beauty's diadem?

Aris.What leap of soul or dream of sense hast thou

That is not sweeter for you hold me dear?

When Theia's daughter, priestess gray, unhoods

Her morning face, and all her clouds of rose

With flying petals light the waking world,

Does not your ecstasy swim on the flood

Of my remembered eyes, and their delight

Re-jewel beauty's diadem?

Ara.I beg——

Aris.When throbbing wonders of a dying sunTrail off their glories like escaping souls,And Night with lustred heaven round her neckLures up immensities, whose spirit longsThrough all your longings till it leads your ownTo crowned and still content?

Aris.When throbbing wonders of a dying sun

Trail off their glories like escaping souls,

And Night with lustred heaven round her neck

Lures up immensities, whose spirit longs

Through all your longings till it leads your own

To crowned and still content?

Ara.Will you not go?

Aris.And when thy gaze is on the sibyl sea,Striving to read her ancient wave-writ script,And break the seal a differing language setsUpon her mighty tongue, whence cometh peaceLike full and silent answer to your heart?

Aris.And when thy gaze is on the sibyl sea,

Striving to read her ancient wave-writ script,

And break the seal a differing language sets

Upon her mighty tongue, whence cometh peace

Like full and silent answer to your heart?

Ara.If this be love, then let it be mine still.For it may be without a touch of hands.Ay, though in Athens you must live and moveStill are you mine in mysteries and joys.I thank you, sir, for having taught me loveThat is forever holy, wronging none.

Ara.If this be love, then let it be mine still.

For it may be without a touch of hands.

Ay, though in Athens you must live and move

Still are you mine in mysteries and joys.

I thank you, sir, for having taught me love

That is forever holy, wronging none.

Aris.Nay, Aratea, man can not be GodAnd pipe all Heaven through a mortal reed!Come to my arms, O life and soul of me!As chaste verbenas on an altar kiss,As streamlets join in soft approving shade,As clouds immingle in the glancing sun,So shall our loves unchided of the skies.Not leafy choirs that anthem Flora in,Or those sweet songs that in day's virgin hourTheir hymeneal pour from feathery pipesThat stale Apollo's lute, shall win more smilesFrom the consenting gods!

Aris.Nay, Aratea, man can not be God

And pipe all Heaven through a mortal reed!

Come to my arms, O life and soul of me!

As chaste verbenas on an altar kiss,

As streamlets join in soft approving shade,

As clouds immingle in the glancing sun,

So shall our loves unchided of the skies.

Not leafy choirs that anthem Flora in,

Or those sweet songs that in day's virgin hour

Their hymeneal pour from feathery pipes

That stale Apollo's lute, shall win more smiles

From the consenting gods!

Ara.O, music, breathOf sin!

Ara.O, music, breath

Of sin!

Aris.Not so! To love thee not were sin!The adoration of so fair a soulWould save me were I damned! And thou art mine.By stars that knit their motions with our fates,The season-childing sun, great Heaven itself——

Aris.Not so! To love thee not were sin!

The adoration of so fair a soul

Would save me were I damned! And thou art mine.

By stars that knit their motions with our fates,

The season-childing sun, great Heaven itself——

Ara.O, not by Heaven!

Aris.And Heaven's all-greater Lord,Who gives us souls that we may love all beauty,And gives us beauty that our souls may love it,I swear thee mine!

Aris.And Heaven's all-greater Lord,

Who gives us souls that we may love all beauty,

And gives us beauty that our souls may love it,

I swear thee mine!

Ara.Your oath—your oath to Dion!

Aris.Thou 'rt mine above all vows! Thou canst not let

Aris.Thou 'rt mine above all vows! Thou canst not letA mock-enthron�d custom speak to God?An atom fettered with nice consequenceBar up the gates of love that are as wideAs His earth-belting arms?

Aris.Thou 'rt mine above all vows! Thou canst not let

A mock-enthron�d custom speak to God?

An atom fettered with nice consequence

Bar up the gates of love that are as wide

As His earth-belting arms?

Ara.No pity, none.

Aris.My heart, say thou wilt come.

Ara.'Tis death.

Aris.'Tis life!Come now, O now, else are we cast apartFar as the dismal Night heaves her vast sigh,Far as the laboring Chaos breathing blows,—Perchance to hurl eternally aboutThe farthest stars that from oppos�d heavensDart fiery scouts that die ere they have met,So long their journey is. Or, gloomier fate,Condemn�d sit like stones that once could weepForever in the cave of ended thingsThat deep in some immortal Lemnos liesNor ever opens its dank gates to day!O, come ere we are lost! Be thy fair armsThe rainbow girdle to this longing stormAnd its rude breast will pillow thee as softAs Leda when, cool-rocked on lily couch,The great down-bosomed god swam to her love!Come, Aratea, heart of life! O nowThis pulse speaks back to mine—this bosom throbsLike heaven's Artemis unto her own![Kisses her]O kiss that holds the mornings of all time,And dewy seasons of the ungathered rose,Plant once again thy summer on my lips!

Aris.'Tis life!

Come now, O now, else are we cast apart

Far as the dismal Night heaves her vast sigh,

Far as the laboring Chaos breathing blows,—

Perchance to hurl eternally about

The farthest stars that from oppos�d heavens

Dart fiery scouts that die ere they have met,

So long their journey is. Or, gloomier fate,

Condemn�d sit like stones that once could weep

Forever in the cave of ended things

That deep in some immortal Lemnos lies

Nor ever opens its dank gates to day!

O, come ere we are lost! Be thy fair arms

The rainbow girdle to this longing storm

And its rude breast will pillow thee as soft

As Leda when, cool-rocked on lily couch,

The great down-bosomed god swam to her love!

Come, Aratea, heart of life! O now

This pulse speaks back to mine—this bosom throbs

Like heaven's Artemis unto her own!

[Kisses her]

O kiss that holds the mornings of all time,

And dewy seasons of the ungathered rose,

Plant once again thy summer on my lips!

Ara.How dear is death that kisses with such breath!Thine eyes are seas where sighing ardors blowLove's argosies from island bowers of dreamInto my heart. Save me, Aristocles!O me, I'm netted in these golden curlsWith web as sure as that the crafty godOnce wove round Aphrodite's blushing bedAnd trapped great Ares, sport for gazing heaven!O, I am lost![Casts him off]Away! away! Nor mayMy lips move more on earth but in a prayerTo cleanse this moment's madness from our souls!

Ara.How dear is death that kisses with such breath!

Thine eyes are seas where sighing ardors blow

Love's argosies from island bowers of dream

Into my heart. Save me, Aristocles!

O me, I'm netted in these golden curls

With web as sure as that the crafty god

Once wove round Aphrodite's blushing bed

And trapped great Ares, sport for gazing heaven!

O, I am lost![Casts him off]

Away! away! Nor may

My lips move more on earth but in a prayer

To cleanse this moment's madness from our souls!

Aris.Wouldst leave me now to death?

Ara.Ay, unto death,Lest Truth and Honor die! Thy way's not mine.My aspen soul would shake its house of fear,Imagine thunder in the bee's soft hum,And mountain-rocking winds in harmless airThat would not move the purple down of clouds.To so great compass now my horror growsThat I myself seem Chaos. 'Tis as I stood'Mong heaps of ruined destinies with lifeStill mourning in them. I am still for fearAnother world will crumble as I stir.

Ara.Ay, unto death,

Lest Truth and Honor die! Thy way's not mine.

My aspen soul would shake its house of fear,

Imagine thunder in the bee's soft hum,

And mountain-rocking winds in harmless air

That would not move the purple down of clouds.

To so great compass now my horror grows

That I myself seem Chaos. 'Tis as I stood

'Mong heaps of ruined destinies with life

Still mourning in them. I am still for fear

Another world will crumble as I stir.

Aris.Move, Aratea! Speak!

Ara.Dost hear that sound?It is the rustle of tear-dropping godsWho gather all the golden virtues upVouchsafed to earth and trampled low by man.See how they rise with their immortal store,A moving radiance like the march of light,And leave us dark for want of what they bear?Far, far till stars must upward look to see—A sapphire trail through the ethereal rose!Now—earth and darkness—and you call it love![Sinks down]

Ara.Dost hear that sound?

It is the rustle of tear-dropping gods

Who gather all the golden virtues up

Vouchsafed to earth and trampled low by man.

See how they rise with their immortal store,

A moving radiance like the march of light,

And leave us dark for want of what they bear?

Far, far till stars must upward look to see—

A sapphire trail through the ethereal rose!

Now—earth and darkness—and you call it love!

[Sinks down]

Aris.[Lifting her]Fair soul, be mortal yet!

Ara.[Going from him]Who leaps for starsMust fall a million leagues too short, or else

Ara.[Going from him]Who leaps for stars

Must fall a million leagues too short, or else

Must fall a million leagues too short, or elseTake vantage not of earth.[Goes to curtains]Farewell—till death.

Must fall a million leagues too short, or else

Take vantage not of earth.[Goes to curtains]

Farewell—till death.

Aris.'Twill not be long to wait. Thou canst not liveIn Dion's arms.

Aris.'Twill not be long to wait. Thou canst not live

In Dion's arms.

Ara.Nor thine. As well to hopeThe air-winged seed will root in vacancy,And high mid-nothing hang with lob�d bloom,As that the rose of love will flower fromThe wreck of men and gods.[He kneels and kisses her robe. She goes out]

Ara.Nor thine. As well to hope

The air-winged seed will root in vacancy,

And high mid-nothing hang with lob�d bloom,

As that the rose of love will flower from

The wreck of men and gods.

[He kneels and kisses her robe. She goes out]

Aris.Before I dieI've touched divinity.[As he rises a slave rushes in, rear, and kneels]

Aris.Before I die

I've touched divinity.

[As he rises a slave rushes in, rear, and kneels]

Slave.My lord!

Aris.You serveLord Heraclides, do you not?

Aris.You serve

Lord Heraclides, do you not?

Slave.I do,And know his heart—his traitor heart.

Slave.I do,

And know his heart—his traitor heart.

Aris.Speak, man.

Slave.You love the noble Dion?

Aris.[Starts]Dion? Ay,I love him well.

Aris.[Starts]Dion? Ay,

I love him well.

Slave.Sir, Heraclides comesTo slay him. Dion, the good! But you will save him!�gisthus and Callorus aid my master.They're bringing Dion here.

Slave.Sir, Heraclides comes

To slay him. Dion, the good! But you will save him!

�gisthus and Callorus aid my master.

They're bringing Dion here.

Aris.Here? Haste! Bring youOcrastes and Calippus! Freedom! Go!

Aris.Here? Haste! Bring you

Ocrastes and Calippus! Freedom! Go!

[Slave runs out. Aristocles steps back unseen as Dion, Heraclides, �gisthus and Callorus enter. The slave running out meets them]

Her.What do you, sirrah?[The slave runs by without answer]Go! You'll not outrunThe hangman!

Her.What do you, sirrah?

[The slave runs by without answer]

Go! You'll not outrun

The hangman!

[�gisthus and Callorus keep in rear of Heraclides, who walks with Dion]

�g.[To Callorus]We're betrayed.

Callo.[To Heraclides]Do not delayThe blow.

Callo.[To Heraclides]Do not delay

The blow.

Her.[To Dion]You like our plan, my lord?

�g.[To Heraclides]Strike now.

Dion.'Tis balm to Syracuse. Your hand upon it,And pardon me my left.

Dion.'Tis balm to Syracuse. Your hand upon it,

And pardon me my left.

Her.With all my heart!

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