Chapter 9

Bren.True, but— Peace! Yonder comes the mistress. I must be off. "Entertainment," quoth my lord. Which means a gentle sally of honest nymphs, and a sort of mild, virtuous music at hide-and-seek in the vineyard. You must to court if you would know how wenches can trip in Sicily. Come, brother stranger. I'll take care o' your enjoyments. You shall see us with both eyes, I promise you.[Exeunt Brentio and Tichus.Enter,left,Aratea,Theano,Nauresta,Ocrastes and Phillistus]

[Exeunt Brentio and Tichus.Enter,left,Aratea,Theano,Nauresta,Ocrastes and Phillistus]

Ara.I'm not convinced, Phillistus. Who may searchThe wreckage 'neath a smile, or count the tearsDeep in a stoic eye? Let us believeAristocles is not in nature coldAs his philosophy.Oc.I'll freeze my swordA winter night, then warm his heart by 't. Cold!The.You've seen him?Oc.At the landing.The.Now we hear!What is this marvel like?Oc.A frozen god.Apollo cast in snow.Phil.Sicilian sunsAre warm.Oc.He's proof 'gainst sun. Why, he doth coolHis liver with his blood,—hath not a stirOf whetted sense, be 't anger, love or pain,To prick him mortal.Ara.He is young to beSo true a sage.The.They come. Prepare, O eyes,To wonder![Re-enter Dion and Aristocles]Ara.[Advancing]Welcome, noble Athenian.Your fame has oft made voyage to our shore,And we rejoice that now you follow it.Please know my friends.Dion.[To Aratea, as Aristocles greets the others]Why is Phillistus here?Are we so poor, my dame, the enemyMust sauce our feast? Nay, nay!Ara.I hope, my lord,My brother's subjects are not enemies.

Ara.I'm not convinced, Phillistus. Who may searchThe wreckage 'neath a smile, or count the tearsDeep in a stoic eye? Let us believeAristocles is not in nature coldAs his philosophy.

Ara.I'm not convinced, Phillistus. Who may search

The wreckage 'neath a smile, or count the tears

Deep in a stoic eye? Let us believe

Aristocles is not in nature cold

As his philosophy.

Oc.I'll freeze my swordA winter night, then warm his heart by 't. Cold!

Oc.I'll freeze my sword

A winter night, then warm his heart by 't. Cold!

The.You've seen him?

Oc.At the landing.

The.Now we hear!What is this marvel like?

The.Now we hear!

What is this marvel like?

Oc.A frozen god.Apollo cast in snow.

Oc.A frozen god.

Apollo cast in snow.

Phil.Sicilian sunsAre warm.

Phil.Sicilian suns

Are warm.

Oc.He's proof 'gainst sun. Why, he doth coolHis liver with his blood,—hath not a stirOf whetted sense, be 't anger, love or pain,To prick him mortal.

Oc.He's proof 'gainst sun. Why, he doth cool

His liver with his blood,—hath not a stir

Of whetted sense, be 't anger, love or pain,

To prick him mortal.

Ara.He is young to beSo true a sage.

Ara.He is young to be

So true a sage.

The.They come. Prepare, O eyes,To wonder!

The.They come. Prepare, O eyes,

To wonder!

[Re-enter Dion and Aristocles]

Ara.[Advancing]Welcome, noble Athenian.Your fame has oft made voyage to our shore,And we rejoice that now you follow it.Please know my friends.

Ara.[Advancing]Welcome, noble Athenian.

Your fame has oft made voyage to our shore,

And we rejoice that now you follow it.

Please know my friends.

Dion.[To Aratea, as Aristocles greets the others]Why is Phillistus here?Are we so poor, my dame, the enemyMust sauce our feast? Nay, nay!

Dion.[To Aratea, as Aristocles greets the others]

Why is Phillistus here?

Are we so poor, my dame, the enemy

Must sauce our feast? Nay, nay!

Ara.I hope, my lord,My brother's subjects are not enemies.

Ara.I hope, my lord,

My brother's subjects are not enemies.

Phil.[Who has stood apart, approaches Aristocles]Welcome to Sicily, although your breath is somewhat frosty for our warmer pleasures.Ara.[As Dion frowns]The frost that draws the poison, saves the flower, you mean, my good Phillistus.Aris.A fair interpreter!Phil.Ay, when we know not our meaning, let a woman find it.Oc.Which she will do the more readily if we mean nothing.The.True, her wit is generous. She'll always bait a hook that angles painfully.Oc.Though she, good soul, must hang herself upon it.[Theano and Ocrastes move aside, bantering. Aratea turns to Phillistus and Nauresta]

Phil.[Who has stood apart, approaches Aristocles]Welcome to Sicily, although your breath is somewhat frosty for our warmer pleasures.

Ara.[As Dion frowns]The frost that draws the poison, saves the flower, you mean, my good Phillistus.

Aris.A fair interpreter!

Phil.Ay, when we know not our meaning, let a woman find it.

Oc.Which she will do the more readily if we mean nothing.

The.True, her wit is generous. She'll always bait a hook that angles painfully.

Oc.Though she, good soul, must hang herself upon it.

[Theano and Ocrastes move aside, bantering. Aratea turns to Phillistus and Nauresta]

Dion.[To Aristocles]Ocrastes is a youth full dear to me.Orphaned at birth, I've bred him from a babe.He is of bravest heart, and must leap highAlthough he fall o'er heaven.Aris.And the maid?Dion.The daughter of my brother some years dead.Her bloom might make e'en priestly blood forgetTo pace with vows, but she is true, and kneelsTo wisdom's star. Hast yet no eye for woman?Aris.For all things fair. That is my staff 'gainst age.We're young so long as we love beauty.[Aratea moves to Dion and Aristocles, leaving Nauresta and Phillistus together]Nau.SeeThis feathered snuggery?Phil.A vine-lark's nest.Nau.Touch 't not. We'll lose a song by you. 'Tis strangeThese dare-wings build about our heads, when theySo fear us.Phil.Farther. Birds are not my study.[They move aside]Nau.Frowning again, my lord?Phil.And reason for it.I like not yonder pairing.[Looks at Theano and Ocrastes]Nau.Would that your plansMight leave them happy!Phil.False? I'll not believe itOf thee, Nauresta. I've given thee confidenceAs open as the ungated dawn; unlockedMy secrets; fixed within your breast, as inMy own, my darling purpose!Nau.'Twas my counselIn Aratea's ear that brought you hither.And why these dark reproaches where I hopedTo see the color of your gratitude?Phil.What's done, though ne'er so well, but makes a wayFor what's to do, Nauresta.Nau.Ah, my lord,I know not how to please you.Phil.Learn. To meBe wax, and adamant to all touch else.Mad Dionysius is in revels lost;Dion is far too stern for common love;Between the two my hope makes fair ascentAbove the clouds of state. 'Tis I must reign.Then we, my queen, must see our daughter wedTo some strong noble who will prop our power.Ocrastes' love is bound inseverablyTo Dion. Keep him from Theano, sweet.Look on them now. See how she bends to him?Nau.Nay, she is modest, sir.Phil.But mark! He speaks,And crimson runs her cheek, as though his voiceDid paint it magically, which bids him fair,For know you not that love on blushes feedsAs plundering bees on roses? He is sure!'Twill task you hard to ward from port who bearsSo bold a sail.Nau.But I will do it. Ay!Phil.Again you are all mine![Nauresta moves to Theano and Ocrastes]Thus do I wooThe mother, with the daughter in my eye.Ara.[To Aristocles]Ah, yes, I know you'll cast fondsighs toward Athens,And in the night look through the dark to her—A myrtle-crown�d bride without her lord—But yet our land, too poor in Ceres' smileTo outwoo Acad�me, may show some charmTo ease your banishment.Aris.O, 'tis an isleThat 'neath the eye of Zeus might bloom nor blushSave at his praise; yet holds within itselfTreasure that ornaments its cruder worthAs gems make eyes in stone,—a friend whose handLeads Virtue's own, and woman's beauty crownedBy starry mind as I ne'er hoped to seeTill at the port of the immortal worldMy eyes should meet my dreams.Dion.What now? So soon,Aristocles?Ara.My lord?Dion.I knew she'd findThe gate to your forgiveness.Phil.[Aside]My tongue creaksAmid this piping.Dion.True, she's fair enoughFor praise, but I'm a plain prose lover, friend,Nor, like a doting osier o'er a brook,Pore on her features, wasting oil of timeThat should burn high in task of gods and state.Phil.[Aside]I'll cast a pebble in this summer pool.[To Aristocles]Sir, you will find our Dionysius worthy,The proud descendant of a prouder sire,Upholding well his shining heritage.Aris.Worthy I hope he is, but even kings,My lord, may wrap them in humility,Nor boast descent, when demigods of earthBut bastards are in heaven.Dion.Ay, some of usShould curvet not so high, bethinking ofOur audience in the clouds; for this brave worldIs but a theatre whereto the godsFor pastime look, and whoso makes most showOf plumes careering and proud-lifting strideIs but the greatest anticker of allTo their high eyes. A little music, friends.Phil.And in good time! A sermon then a song.[Enter dancers, the two in advance bearing urns which they place on a small altar, singing]Bring cedar dark,And ruby-wood,Bring honeyed-bark,The Naiad's food,Till altar flameAnd incense riseIn friendship's nameTo seek the skies.[Chorus by maidens bearing wreaths of olive and laurel]Myrtle leave on Venus' tree,Nor the Bacchic ivy see;Olive bring, and laurel bough.And may hours that gather nowOf his years fair token be![They bow before Aristocles and continue dancing]Aris.[Watching Aratea]The sun has made a shrine of her bright hairWhere eyes would worship, but her fairer faceLures their devotion ere they gaze one prayer.Phil.[Crossing to Aristocles]Aristocles, I swear yon dancer's foot,Curving the air, marks beauty of more worthThan all the fantasies of dream you writeOn heavens conjectural.Dion.[Angrily to Phillistus]It suits you wellTo treat the theme deific with bold tongue.No thought so high but you would trick it outIn shrugging sophistry!Phil.[Going]Farewell. The courtHas always welcome for me.Dion.Farewell, my lord.And Ceres send you grace!Phil.[Turning]Beware, proud Dion!The topmost limb makes an uneasy seat.Who perches there must take account of winds,Lest dignity go forfeit to surprise.By Jaso, sir, your cause is fallen sick,Nor Athens emptying all her wits may heal it![Exit]Ara.My lord, a little patience——Dion.Patience, madam!Would words were meat for swords! I'd had his crop![Enter a royal messenger]Mess.Most noble Dion, greeting from the king.He begs you'll bring the Athenian sage to banquet,And see some shows within the royal gardens.Dion.More revels! More? This cracks the very glassOf our fair prospect, wherein we saw him sitWith listening ear to wisdom.[To messenger]No!Ara.My lord——Dion.Say to the tyrant I'll not feast with him.[Exit messenger]Ara.May I be bold to say this is not well?I fear, my lord, your stern, imperious portIs much against you in our easeful city.If on occasion you would smooth your browTo patient lenience you in time would winAll hearts to wear the livery of your purpose,That now shows cold and sober for their mood.Dion.Not so! The bending tree ne'er kissed the clouds.I will not stoop! What? Flaunt his sport beforeA sage's eye, who comes at his own suitTo teach him truth?Aris.Yet we must not forgetDiscourteous truth is hated; vehemence,The whip of argument, but frights conviction.Pardon so stale a word.Ara.But 'tis so true!The winding zephyr, not the hurrying gale,Finds out the hidden rose. My brother's heartHas yet a grain of good, which gentlenessMay find and touch to life.Dion.It was the slight,The unseemly slight to you, Aristocles,So chafed me.Aris.Think but of our charge, my friend,Fair Syracuse.Dion.So, so! I say no more.Your wisdom be to me Athene's shieldWhereby I'll see to strike this head of wrongNor be devoured. Come, we will walk abroad.But not to court.Aris.[To Aratea]My wishes wait on thee.May Fortune dress thee for a second selfTill eyes mistaking seek thy face for hers.Ara.Nay, let her wed thee, and like loving wifeGive all her portion, then empty-handed pluckNew grace from heaven to adorn thee still.[Exeunt Dion and Aristocles]

Dion.[To Aristocles]Ocrastes is a youth full dear to me.Orphaned at birth, I've bred him from a babe.He is of bravest heart, and must leap highAlthough he fall o'er heaven.

Dion.[To Aristocles]Ocrastes is a youth full dear to me.

Orphaned at birth, I've bred him from a babe.

He is of bravest heart, and must leap high

Although he fall o'er heaven.

Aris.And the maid?

Dion.The daughter of my brother some years dead.Her bloom might make e'en priestly blood forgetTo pace with vows, but she is true, and kneelsTo wisdom's star. Hast yet no eye for woman?

Dion.The daughter of my brother some years dead.

Her bloom might make e'en priestly blood forget

To pace with vows, but she is true, and kneels

To wisdom's star. Hast yet no eye for woman?

Aris.For all things fair. That is my staff 'gainst age.We're young so long as we love beauty.

Aris.For all things fair. That is my staff 'gainst age.

We're young so long as we love beauty.

[Aratea moves to Dion and Aristocles, leaving Nauresta and Phillistus together]

Nau.SeeThis feathered snuggery?

Nau.See

This feathered snuggery?

Phil.A vine-lark's nest.

Nau.Touch 't not. We'll lose a song by you. 'Tis strangeThese dare-wings build about our heads, when theySo fear us.

Nau.Touch 't not. We'll lose a song by you. 'Tis strange

These dare-wings build about our heads, when they

So fear us.

Phil.Farther. Birds are not my study.

[They move aside]

Nau.Frowning again, my lord?

Phil.And reason for it.I like not yonder pairing.

Phil.And reason for it.

I like not yonder pairing.

[Looks at Theano and Ocrastes]

Nau.Would that your plansMight leave them happy!

Nau.Would that your plans

Might leave them happy!

Phil.False? I'll not believe itOf thee, Nauresta. I've given thee confidenceAs open as the ungated dawn; unlockedMy secrets; fixed within your breast, as inMy own, my darling purpose!

Phil.False? I'll not believe it

Of thee, Nauresta. I've given thee confidence

As open as the ungated dawn; unlocked

My secrets; fixed within your breast, as in

My own, my darling purpose!

Nau.'Twas my counselIn Aratea's ear that brought you hither.And why these dark reproaches where I hopedTo see the color of your gratitude?

Nau.'Twas my counsel

In Aratea's ear that brought you hither.

And why these dark reproaches where I hoped

To see the color of your gratitude?

Phil.What's done, though ne'er so well, but makes a wayFor what's to do, Nauresta.

Phil.What's done, though ne'er so well, but makes a way

For what's to do, Nauresta.

Nau.Ah, my lord,I know not how to please you.

Nau.Ah, my lord,

I know not how to please you.

Phil.Learn. To meBe wax, and adamant to all touch else.Mad Dionysius is in revels lost;Dion is far too stern for common love;Between the two my hope makes fair ascentAbove the clouds of state. 'Tis I must reign.Then we, my queen, must see our daughter wedTo some strong noble who will prop our power.Ocrastes' love is bound inseverablyTo Dion. Keep him from Theano, sweet.Look on them now. See how she bends to him?

Phil.Learn. To me

Be wax, and adamant to all touch else.

Mad Dionysius is in revels lost;

Dion is far too stern for common love;

Between the two my hope makes fair ascent

Above the clouds of state. 'Tis I must reign.

Then we, my queen, must see our daughter wed

To some strong noble who will prop our power.

Ocrastes' love is bound inseverably

To Dion. Keep him from Theano, sweet.

Look on them now. See how she bends to him?

Nau.Nay, she is modest, sir.

Phil.But mark! He speaks,And crimson runs her cheek, as though his voiceDid paint it magically, which bids him fair,For know you not that love on blushes feedsAs plundering bees on roses? He is sure!'Twill task you hard to ward from port who bearsSo bold a sail.

Phil.But mark! He speaks,

And crimson runs her cheek, as though his voice

Did paint it magically, which bids him fair,

For know you not that love on blushes feeds

As plundering bees on roses? He is sure!

'Twill task you hard to ward from port who bears

So bold a sail.

Nau.But I will do it. Ay!

Phil.Again you are all mine![Nauresta moves to Theano and Ocrastes]Thus do I wooThe mother, with the daughter in my eye.

Phil.Again you are all mine![Nauresta moves to Theano and Ocrastes]

Thus do I woo

The mother, with the daughter in my eye.

Ara.[To Aristocles]Ah, yes, I know you'll cast fondsighs toward Athens,And in the night look through the dark to her—A myrtle-crown�d bride without her lord—But yet our land, too poor in Ceres' smileTo outwoo Acad�me, may show some charmTo ease your banishment.

Ara.[To Aristocles]Ah, yes, I know you'll cast fond

sighs toward Athens,

And in the night look through the dark to her—

A myrtle-crown�d bride without her lord—

But yet our land, too poor in Ceres' smile

To outwoo Acad�me, may show some charm

To ease your banishment.

Aris.O, 'tis an isleThat 'neath the eye of Zeus might bloom nor blushSave at his praise; yet holds within itselfTreasure that ornaments its cruder worthAs gems make eyes in stone,—a friend whose handLeads Virtue's own, and woman's beauty crownedBy starry mind as I ne'er hoped to seeTill at the port of the immortal worldMy eyes should meet my dreams.

Aris.O, 'tis an isle

That 'neath the eye of Zeus might bloom nor blush

Save at his praise; yet holds within itself

Treasure that ornaments its cruder worth

As gems make eyes in stone,—a friend whose hand

Leads Virtue's own, and woman's beauty crowned

By starry mind as I ne'er hoped to see

Till at the port of the immortal world

My eyes should meet my dreams.

Dion.What now? So soon,Aristocles?

Dion.What now? So soon,

Aristocles?

Ara.My lord?

Dion.I knew she'd findThe gate to your forgiveness.

Dion.I knew she'd find

The gate to your forgiveness.

Phil.[Aside]My tongue creaksAmid this piping.

Phil.[Aside]My tongue creaks

Amid this piping.

Dion.True, she's fair enoughFor praise, but I'm a plain prose lover, friend,Nor, like a doting osier o'er a brook,Pore on her features, wasting oil of timeThat should burn high in task of gods and state.

Dion.True, she's fair enough

For praise, but I'm a plain prose lover, friend,

Nor, like a doting osier o'er a brook,

Pore on her features, wasting oil of time

That should burn high in task of gods and state.

Phil.[Aside]I'll cast a pebble in this summer pool.[To Aristocles]Sir, you will find our Dionysius worthy,The proud descendant of a prouder sire,Upholding well his shining heritage.

Phil.[Aside]I'll cast a pebble in this summer pool.

[To Aristocles]Sir, you will find our Dionysius worthy,

The proud descendant of a prouder sire,

Upholding well his shining heritage.

Aris.Worthy I hope he is, but even kings,My lord, may wrap them in humility,Nor boast descent, when demigods of earthBut bastards are in heaven.

Aris.Worthy I hope he is, but even kings,

My lord, may wrap them in humility,

Nor boast descent, when demigods of earth

But bastards are in heaven.

Dion.Ay, some of usShould curvet not so high, bethinking ofOur audience in the clouds; for this brave worldIs but a theatre whereto the godsFor pastime look, and whoso makes most showOf plumes careering and proud-lifting strideIs but the greatest anticker of allTo their high eyes. A little music, friends.

Dion.Ay, some of us

Should curvet not so high, bethinking of

Our audience in the clouds; for this brave world

Is but a theatre whereto the gods

For pastime look, and whoso makes most show

Of plumes careering and proud-lifting stride

Is but the greatest anticker of all

To their high eyes. A little music, friends.

Phil.And in good time! A sermon then a song.

[Enter dancers, the two in advance bearing urns which they place on a small altar, singing]

Bring cedar dark,And ruby-wood,Bring honeyed-bark,The Naiad's food,Till altar flameAnd incense riseIn friendship's nameTo seek the skies.

Bring cedar dark,

And ruby-wood,

Bring honeyed-bark,

The Naiad's food,

Till altar flame

And incense rise

In friendship's name

To seek the skies.

[Chorus by maidens bearing wreaths of olive and laurel]

Myrtle leave on Venus' tree,Nor the Bacchic ivy see;Olive bring, and laurel bough.And may hours that gather nowOf his years fair token be!

Myrtle leave on Venus' tree,

Nor the Bacchic ivy see;

Olive bring, and laurel bough.

And may hours that gather now

Of his years fair token be!

[They bow before Aristocles and continue dancing]

Aris.[Watching Aratea]The sun has made a shrine of her bright hairWhere eyes would worship, but her fairer faceLures their devotion ere they gaze one prayer.

Aris.[Watching Aratea]The sun has made a shrine of her bright hair

Where eyes would worship, but her fairer face

Lures their devotion ere they gaze one prayer.

Phil.[Crossing to Aristocles]Aristocles, I swear yon dancer's foot,Curving the air, marks beauty of more worthThan all the fantasies of dream you writeOn heavens conjectural.

Phil.[Crossing to Aristocles]Aristocles, I swear yon dancer's foot,

Curving the air, marks beauty of more worth

Than all the fantasies of dream you write

On heavens conjectural.

Dion.[Angrily to Phillistus]It suits you wellTo treat the theme deific with bold tongue.No thought so high but you would trick it outIn shrugging sophistry!

Dion.[Angrily to Phillistus]It suits you well

To treat the theme deific with bold tongue.

No thought so high but you would trick it out

In shrugging sophistry!

Phil.[Going]Farewell. The courtHas always welcome for me.

Phil.[Going]Farewell. The court

Has always welcome for me.

Dion.Farewell, my lord.And Ceres send you grace!

Dion.Farewell, my lord.

And Ceres send you grace!

Phil.[Turning]Beware, proud Dion!The topmost limb makes an uneasy seat.Who perches there must take account of winds,Lest dignity go forfeit to surprise.By Jaso, sir, your cause is fallen sick,Nor Athens emptying all her wits may heal it![Exit]

Phil.[Turning]Beware, proud Dion!

The topmost limb makes an uneasy seat.

Who perches there must take account of winds,

Lest dignity go forfeit to surprise.

By Jaso, sir, your cause is fallen sick,

Nor Athens emptying all her wits may heal it![Exit]

Ara.My lord, a little patience——

Dion.Patience, madam!Would words were meat for swords! I'd had his crop!

Dion.Patience, madam!

Would words were meat for swords! I'd had his crop!

[Enter a royal messenger]

Mess.Most noble Dion, greeting from the king.He begs you'll bring the Athenian sage to banquet,And see some shows within the royal gardens.

Mess.Most noble Dion, greeting from the king.

He begs you'll bring the Athenian sage to banquet,

And see some shows within the royal gardens.

Dion.More revels! More? This cracks the very glassOf our fair prospect, wherein we saw him sitWith listening ear to wisdom.[To messenger]No!

Dion.More revels! More? This cracks the very glass

Of our fair prospect, wherein we saw him sit

With listening ear to wisdom.

[To messenger]No!

Ara.My lord——

Dion.Say to the tyrant I'll not feast with him.[Exit messenger]

Ara.May I be bold to say this is not well?I fear, my lord, your stern, imperious portIs much against you in our easeful city.If on occasion you would smooth your browTo patient lenience you in time would winAll hearts to wear the livery of your purpose,That now shows cold and sober for their mood.

Ara.May I be bold to say this is not well?

I fear, my lord, your stern, imperious port

Is much against you in our easeful city.

If on occasion you would smooth your brow

To patient lenience you in time would win

All hearts to wear the livery of your purpose,

That now shows cold and sober for their mood.

Dion.Not so! The bending tree ne'er kissed the clouds.I will not stoop! What? Flaunt his sport beforeA sage's eye, who comes at his own suitTo teach him truth?

Dion.Not so! The bending tree ne'er kissed the clouds.

I will not stoop! What? Flaunt his sport before

A sage's eye, who comes at his own suit

To teach him truth?

Aris.Yet we must not forgetDiscourteous truth is hated; vehemence,The whip of argument, but frights conviction.Pardon so stale a word.

Aris.Yet we must not forget

Discourteous truth is hated; vehemence,

The whip of argument, but frights conviction.

Pardon so stale a word.

Ara.But 'tis so true!The winding zephyr, not the hurrying gale,Finds out the hidden rose. My brother's heartHas yet a grain of good, which gentlenessMay find and touch to life.

Ara.But 'tis so true!

The winding zephyr, not the hurrying gale,

Finds out the hidden rose. My brother's heart

Has yet a grain of good, which gentleness

May find and touch to life.

Dion.It was the slight,The unseemly slight to you, Aristocles,So chafed me.

Dion.It was the slight,

The unseemly slight to you, Aristocles,

So chafed me.

Aris.Think but of our charge, my friend,Fair Syracuse.

Aris.Think but of our charge, my friend,

Fair Syracuse.

Dion.So, so! I say no more.Your wisdom be to me Athene's shieldWhereby I'll see to strike this head of wrongNor be devoured. Come, we will walk abroad.But not to court.

Dion.So, so! I say no more.

Your wisdom be to me Athene's shield

Whereby I'll see to strike this head of wrong

Nor be devoured. Come, we will walk abroad.

But not to court.

Aris.[To Aratea]My wishes wait on thee.May Fortune dress thee for a second selfTill eyes mistaking seek thy face for hers.

Aris.[To Aratea]My wishes wait on thee.

May Fortune dress thee for a second self

Till eyes mistaking seek thy face for hers.

Ara.Nay, let her wed thee, and like loving wifeGive all her portion, then empty-handed pluckNew grace from heaven to adorn thee still.

Ara.Nay, let her wed thee, and like loving wife

Give all her portion, then empty-handed pluck

New grace from heaven to adorn thee still.

[Exeunt Dion and Aristocles]

Nau.Now, Aratea, the song of praise! Which of the gods is he most like?Ara.Like none of them. Jove is long-bearded, Neptune has forgot to walk, Mercury is boyish, Apollo like a woman, and Mars so heavy-footed he would stumble mocking the grace of Aristocles!Nau.'Tis plain a curious eye will never take you to Olympus, since you've seen the Athenian.Ara.I own I have a sudden comfort from this gentle sage.Nau.What is it?Ara.You know my Dion has one only fault.Nau.O, all but perfect man!Ara.He is so true that he is stern as truth.Nau.That's truth indeed!Ara.So just that he is harsh as Justice' self.Nau.Another truth!Ara.So good that——Nau.What! More of this singular fault?

Nau.Now, Aratea, the song of praise! Which of the gods is he most like?

Ara.Like none of them. Jove is long-bearded, Neptune has forgot to walk, Mercury is boyish, Apollo like a woman, and Mars so heavy-footed he would stumble mocking the grace of Aristocles!

Nau.'Tis plain a curious eye will never take you to Olympus, since you've seen the Athenian.

Ara.I own I have a sudden comfort from this gentle sage.

Nau.What is it?

Ara.You know my Dion has one only fault.

Nau.O, all but perfect man!

Ara.He is so true that he is stern as truth.

Nau.That's truth indeed!

Ara.So just that he is harsh as Justice' self.

Nau.Another truth!

Ara.So good that——

Nau.What! More of this singular fault?

Ara.This Athens' tongue, so sweetly mediate,Will lead the people's love unto my lord,Who now upholds the state in thankless sort.They honor and admire, but keep their heartsFor those who woo them! Ah, I blame them not.Oc.Dion need borrow no Athenian tongueTo speak for him.Nau.You'll hear no voice deniesHim perfect praise.Oc.Who would deny it?The.None,Ocrastes, none. How like a gem unpricedHis rich simplicity doth shine amidThe purpled show of lords! It is as thoughThe sovereign alkahest, weary of law,Had given the scorn�d pebble leave to glowThe fairest eye of all the pearl�d shore.Ara.They'll sing us deaf, Nauresta, on this theme.But come.[Draws Nauresta away]Come, madam, come! We must prepareSome good-wife pleasure for my lord's return.[Exeunt Aratea and Nauresta, left]Oc.[Embracing Theano]My love! At last! O goddess Patience, howThou muffledst me! Time crept on thousand legsAnd each one crippled.The.Ay, so slow the hourMoved to this golden now I thought each momentTurned back to seek some loss and spent itselfA second time.Oc.Now all the world's at morn.How young we are, Theano! O, 'tis trueLife is at tick of dawn when love begins.The.I'm older then than you, for I 'gan loveThe day you won the laurel from proud Carthage.In the wild race how like a shooting starYou made a heaven of earth's grosser air!And 'twas that day I heard old warriors sayYour lance would dare prick ope the clouds till MarsLooked forth to combat. Ah, I scarce believeOur island's easy lap did bear you, and thankThe gods that wealth, whose poison-pampered toothLikes best the marrow-sweet of youth, has leftYou still a man.Oc.Truth weeps when lovers talk,But where is sound more sweet? All that I amI owe to Dion. Give to him the praise,If praise is due, and you would please me best.The.Thy approbation is my glass of merit,And there alone am I array�d fair,Yet for his sake, not yours, I love lord Dion.'Tis wonder's hour in wonder's day he shouldSo fit his life, despite the careless time,To please the gods.Oc.When shall we tell him, love,Of this new joy of ours?The.My mother first.Oc.Didst note her frown?What has so changed her, sweet?The.I find her troubled late, as she would sootheHer breast above some panting mystery.Oc.She must disclose the cause, and show if 't hasAn honest face. I'll have no mincing doubtsAnd ghostly secrets peering on our love.The.She is our gentle mother. Wait, my heart!Oc.Phillistus is too often at her ear.Have guard against him. In his smoothest wordsHe'll subtly seat a devil to confound you.'Tis pity. Eloquence is the flute o' the soul,Which virtue alone should play, for good or badIt has immortal consequence.The.He wasMy father's friend, and well may be my mother's.Oc.Ah, but he coos too near her widowed nest.The.Ocrastes! Can you dare? My noble mother!Whose sorrows sit like shadows in her eye?Whose loyal breast asks no embrace less chillThan the cold tomb where my dear father lies?Oc.'Twas but a word.The.Unsay it, O, unsay it!Oc.Ay, by our island's god, 'twas never spoken!The.I've scarce a breath, Ocrastes.Oc.And that breathThis kiss must drink. You will forgive? Speak not.These clinging lips have told me. A kiss, Theano,Unseals all secrets but to be their grave.Then we know all, and all we know's forgot.'Tis saying true, a kiss is worth the world,When, having it, there's no world but a kiss.[Re-enter Nauresta and Aratea, left]Nau.[Crossing to Theano]Still here, my daughter?[Enter Brentio, right]Bren.O, mistress, the master is coming with Dionysius.Since he would not take the Athenian to court, the courtis coming hither.Oc.Here? 'Tis a strange declension of his pride.Ara.I fear 'tis cover for a thrust 'gainst Dion.Oc.No! Virtue such as his is heavened aboveThe reach of sceptres.Ara.But he was too boldIn his refusal to attend the feast.They come! And Dionysius' brow is likeA new, unclouded sun. No eyes for us![Enter Dionysius,Aristocles,Dion,and lords]Diony.[To Aristocles]Speak on, nor cease t' enchant my rous�d ear,Although thy words, like honey from the isleWhere Ate fell, are something mixed with bitter.But give me not to virtue suddenly,Lest she disdain the greening, unripe fruit,And from her sun I do forever fall.Dion.Heed then his counsel, Dionysius.A ruler is the state's bountificer,—High warden at the gates of happy good,—And when he turns unto himself the streamThat should make fair his country, he is damnedAs oft a robber as his subjects count.Each man he meets may claim his golden coat!Diony.What's your rough meaning, sir?Aris.'Tis this, my lord.Here is a land born in a dream of Nature,And given to man to please her waking eyesUntil she thinks that yet she dreams. His taskTo build the adorning temple, turn groves retiredTo happy shades where wisdom meets with youth,And with triumphant art set statued thoughtTo gleam abroad from every favored spotTill e'en the flattered gods be tempted hereIn marble fair to wait on mortal eyes,And genius roam in generation free,Breathing the constant good of mind aspiring,Till not a clod, be it or earth or human,But knows a smile to make itself more fair.How should it grieve thee then to see the pompOf one, sole, only man heave with the weightOf all the state, and wear in barren prideThe fertile beauty of his golden isle?Diony.Divine Athenian, if I be that man,Be thou the master of my realm till IHave learned what 'tis to be one. Teach me hereMy first new duty.Dion.Check debauching riotThat sluices now the palace! Cease these feastsThat fume to heaven like Hecate's brewing-vats!Nay, sir, those scowls unwrite your waterish vow.Aris.Our Dion means, my lord, that virtue wanesAs revels wax; and yet an hour of restThe gods allow us. I myself have trainedYoung figures for the dance that wreathes with graceThe needful, idle hour.Diony.You leave us music?Aris.Ay, 'tis the angel 'tween the sense and soul,A hand on each, that one may feel the touchOf purest heaven mid rosy revelling,The other catch sweet trembles of a waveThat shake her calm till white cheek meets the rose.Diony.And feasting, sir?Aris.Nay, there's the soul's expenseFor what o'erdims her fair, majestic visions;But fruits of sheltered vales grow lush for man,And awny grasses droop with sugared grains,And wine, tempered to reason's flow, oft lightsThe questing mind.Diony.Enough! No groaning boardThat shifts its burden to the spirit! No revelTo pleasure Pleasure! Naught but what is meetFor fair philosophy's relaxive hour!Adrastus, see 'tis done. Go instantly![Exit Adrastus]Dion, you're for the harbor?DionWith your leave.Diony.Which we must grant. Your business is our own.Oc.With you, my lord?Dion.Most welcome son. Adieu.[Exeunt Dion and Ocrastes]Ara.Brother, 'tis long since you have visited me.I hold a magnet now in our new friendWill draw you to my house.Diony.Nay, I must rob you.The palace is his home.Ara.O, not to-day!Diony.I'll yield to-day, but not an hour beyondTo-morrow's sun. Adieu, Aristocles.Give me thy love; I'll give thee Syracuse.[Exeunt Dionysius and lords]Ara.[To Aristocles]We have some statues in the garden, sir,May please an eye from Athens. Will you come?[Exeunt Aratea and Aristocles]The.Mother, why look so darkly on Ocrastes?Nau.Darkly, my daughter?The.Has he not a soulAs truly virtuous as his face is fair?Nau.True, but he's not for you. Believe it.The.Ah!Nau.Nor grieve my heart with pleading to know more.Some day I'll speak, but now my bosom's lockedWith key not in my hands.The.Mother, I prayYou'll give no more a flattered, willing earTo lord Phillistus' tongue.Nau.What do you mean?The.I do not know. I am disturbed by him.I scarce can tell you how.Nau.To call him friendBut proves my loyalty to the loved dead.The.I do not doubt my mother! No, no, no!But him I fear. His eye speaks muddily,And echoes not his words.Nau.No more of this!You prattle, child. Say that he loves me——The.Ah,Not that!Nau.Yet were he villain, is not loveThe soul's sweet cleanser and redeeming incense?The.The serpent and the bee make food and venomOf the same flower's sweetness; so fair mindsIn love enlarge with merit, while villainy,Sucking such sweet, swells rank and poisonous.Nau.No more, my daughter![Enter courtiers, right]

Ara.This Athens' tongue, so sweetly mediate,

Will lead the people's love unto my lord,

Who now upholds the state in thankless sort.

They honor and admire, but keep their hearts

For those who woo them! Ah, I blame them not.

Oc.Dion need borrow no Athenian tongueTo speak for him.

Oc.Dion need borrow no Athenian tongue

To speak for him.

Nau.You'll hear no voice deniesHim perfect praise.

Nau.You'll hear no voice denies

Him perfect praise.

Oc.Who would deny it?

The.None,Ocrastes, none. How like a gem unpricedHis rich simplicity doth shine amidThe purpled show of lords! It is as thoughThe sovereign alkahest, weary of law,Had given the scorn�d pebble leave to glowThe fairest eye of all the pearl�d shore.

The.None,

Ocrastes, none. How like a gem unpriced

His rich simplicity doth shine amid

The purpled show of lords! It is as though

The sovereign alkahest, weary of law,

Had given the scorn�d pebble leave to glow

The fairest eye of all the pearl�d shore.

Ara.They'll sing us deaf, Nauresta, on this theme.But come.[Draws Nauresta away]Come, madam, come! We must prepareSome good-wife pleasure for my lord's return.

Ara.They'll sing us deaf, Nauresta, on this theme.

But come.[Draws Nauresta away]Come, madam, come! We must prepare

Some good-wife pleasure for my lord's return.

[Exeunt Aratea and Nauresta, left]

Oc.[Embracing Theano]My love! At last! O goddess Patience, howThou muffledst me! Time crept on thousand legsAnd each one crippled.

Oc.[Embracing Theano]My love! At last! O goddess Patience, how

Thou muffledst me! Time crept on thousand legs

And each one crippled.

The.Ay, so slow the hourMoved to this golden now I thought each momentTurned back to seek some loss and spent itselfA second time.

The.Ay, so slow the hour

Moved to this golden now I thought each moment

Turned back to seek some loss and spent itself

A second time.

Oc.Now all the world's at morn.How young we are, Theano! O, 'tis trueLife is at tick of dawn when love begins.

Oc.Now all the world's at morn.

How young we are, Theano! O, 'tis true

Life is at tick of dawn when love begins.

The.I'm older then than you, for I 'gan loveThe day you won the laurel from proud Carthage.In the wild race how like a shooting starYou made a heaven of earth's grosser air!And 'twas that day I heard old warriors sayYour lance would dare prick ope the clouds till MarsLooked forth to combat. Ah, I scarce believeOur island's easy lap did bear you, and thankThe gods that wealth, whose poison-pampered toothLikes best the marrow-sweet of youth, has leftYou still a man.

The.I'm older then than you, for I 'gan love

The day you won the laurel from proud Carthage.

In the wild race how like a shooting star

You made a heaven of earth's grosser air!

And 'twas that day I heard old warriors say

Your lance would dare prick ope the clouds till Mars

Looked forth to combat. Ah, I scarce believe

Our island's easy lap did bear you, and thank

The gods that wealth, whose poison-pampered tooth

Likes best the marrow-sweet of youth, has left

You still a man.

Oc.Truth weeps when lovers talk,But where is sound more sweet? All that I amI owe to Dion. Give to him the praise,If praise is due, and you would please me best.

Oc.Truth weeps when lovers talk,

But where is sound more sweet? All that I am

I owe to Dion. Give to him the praise,

If praise is due, and you would please me best.

The.Thy approbation is my glass of merit,And there alone am I array�d fair,Yet for his sake, not yours, I love lord Dion.'Tis wonder's hour in wonder's day he shouldSo fit his life, despite the careless time,To please the gods.

The.Thy approbation is my glass of merit,

And there alone am I array�d fair,

Yet for his sake, not yours, I love lord Dion.

'Tis wonder's hour in wonder's day he should

So fit his life, despite the careless time,

To please the gods.

Oc.When shall we tell him, love,Of this new joy of ours?

Oc.When shall we tell him, love,

Of this new joy of ours?

The.My mother first.

Oc.Didst note her frown?What has so changed her, sweet?

Oc.Didst note her frown?

What has so changed her, sweet?

The.I find her troubled late, as she would sootheHer breast above some panting mystery.

The.I find her troubled late, as she would soothe

Her breast above some panting mystery.

Oc.She must disclose the cause, and show if 't hasAn honest face. I'll have no mincing doubtsAnd ghostly secrets peering on our love.

Oc.She must disclose the cause, and show if 't has

An honest face. I'll have no mincing doubts

And ghostly secrets peering on our love.

The.She is our gentle mother. Wait, my heart!

Oc.Phillistus is too often at her ear.Have guard against him. In his smoothest wordsHe'll subtly seat a devil to confound you.'Tis pity. Eloquence is the flute o' the soul,Which virtue alone should play, for good or badIt has immortal consequence.

Oc.Phillistus is too often at her ear.

Have guard against him. In his smoothest words

He'll subtly seat a devil to confound you.

'Tis pity. Eloquence is the flute o' the soul,

Which virtue alone should play, for good or bad

It has immortal consequence.

The.He wasMy father's friend, and well may be my mother's.

The.He was

My father's friend, and well may be my mother's.

Oc.Ah, but he coos too near her widowed nest.

The.Ocrastes! Can you dare? My noble mother!Whose sorrows sit like shadows in her eye?Whose loyal breast asks no embrace less chillThan the cold tomb where my dear father lies?

The.Ocrastes! Can you dare? My noble mother!

Whose sorrows sit like shadows in her eye?

Whose loyal breast asks no embrace less chill

Than the cold tomb where my dear father lies?

Oc.'Twas but a word.

The.Unsay it, O, unsay it!

Oc.Ay, by our island's god, 'twas never spoken!

The.I've scarce a breath, Ocrastes.

Oc.And that breathThis kiss must drink. You will forgive? Speak not.These clinging lips have told me. A kiss, Theano,Unseals all secrets but to be their grave.Then we know all, and all we know's forgot.'Tis saying true, a kiss is worth the world,When, having it, there's no world but a kiss.

Oc.And that breath

This kiss must drink. You will forgive? Speak not.

These clinging lips have told me. A kiss, Theano,

Unseals all secrets but to be their grave.

Then we know all, and all we know's forgot.

'Tis saying true, a kiss is worth the world,

When, having it, there's no world but a kiss.

[Re-enter Nauresta and Aratea, left]

Nau.[Crossing to Theano]Still here, my daughter?

[Enter Brentio, right]

Bren.O, mistress, the master is coming with Dionysius.Since he would not take the Athenian to court, the courtis coming hither.

Bren.O, mistress, the master is coming with Dionysius.

Since he would not take the Athenian to court, the court

is coming hither.

Oc.Here? 'Tis a strange declension of his pride.

Ara.I fear 'tis cover for a thrust 'gainst Dion.

Oc.No! Virtue such as his is heavened aboveThe reach of sceptres.

Oc.No! Virtue such as his is heavened above

The reach of sceptres.

Ara.But he was too boldIn his refusal to attend the feast.They come! And Dionysius' brow is likeA new, unclouded sun. No eyes for us!

Ara.But he was too bold

In his refusal to attend the feast.

They come! And Dionysius' brow is like

A new, unclouded sun. No eyes for us!

[Enter Dionysius,Aristocles,Dion,and lords]

Diony.[To Aristocles]Speak on, nor cease t' enchant my rous�d ear,Although thy words, like honey from the isleWhere Ate fell, are something mixed with bitter.But give me not to virtue suddenly,Lest she disdain the greening, unripe fruit,And from her sun I do forever fall.

Diony.[To Aristocles]Speak on, nor cease t' enchant my rous�d ear,

Although thy words, like honey from the isle

Where Ate fell, are something mixed with bitter.

But give me not to virtue suddenly,

Lest she disdain the greening, unripe fruit,

And from her sun I do forever fall.

Dion.Heed then his counsel, Dionysius.A ruler is the state's bountificer,—High warden at the gates of happy good,—And when he turns unto himself the streamThat should make fair his country, he is damnedAs oft a robber as his subjects count.Each man he meets may claim his golden coat!

Dion.Heed then his counsel, Dionysius.

A ruler is the state's bountificer,—

High warden at the gates of happy good,—

And when he turns unto himself the stream

That should make fair his country, he is damned

As oft a robber as his subjects count.

Each man he meets may claim his golden coat!

Diony.What's your rough meaning, sir?

Aris.'Tis this, my lord.Here is a land born in a dream of Nature,And given to man to please her waking eyesUntil she thinks that yet she dreams. His taskTo build the adorning temple, turn groves retiredTo happy shades where wisdom meets with youth,And with triumphant art set statued thoughtTo gleam abroad from every favored spotTill e'en the flattered gods be tempted hereIn marble fair to wait on mortal eyes,And genius roam in generation free,Breathing the constant good of mind aspiring,Till not a clod, be it or earth or human,But knows a smile to make itself more fair.How should it grieve thee then to see the pompOf one, sole, only man heave with the weightOf all the state, and wear in barren prideThe fertile beauty of his golden isle?

Aris.'Tis this, my lord.

Here is a land born in a dream of Nature,

And given to man to please her waking eyes

Until she thinks that yet she dreams. His task

To build the adorning temple, turn groves retired

To happy shades where wisdom meets with youth,

And with triumphant art set statued thought

To gleam abroad from every favored spot

Till e'en the flattered gods be tempted here

In marble fair to wait on mortal eyes,

And genius roam in generation free,

Breathing the constant good of mind aspiring,

Till not a clod, be it or earth or human,

But knows a smile to make itself more fair.

How should it grieve thee then to see the pomp

Of one, sole, only man heave with the weight

Of all the state, and wear in barren pride

The fertile beauty of his golden isle?

Diony.Divine Athenian, if I be that man,Be thou the master of my realm till IHave learned what 'tis to be one. Teach me hereMy first new duty.

Diony.Divine Athenian, if I be that man,

Be thou the master of my realm till I

Have learned what 'tis to be one. Teach me here

My first new duty.

Dion.Check debauching riotThat sluices now the palace! Cease these feastsThat fume to heaven like Hecate's brewing-vats!Nay, sir, those scowls unwrite your waterish vow.

Dion.Check debauching riot

That sluices now the palace! Cease these feasts

That fume to heaven like Hecate's brewing-vats!

Nay, sir, those scowls unwrite your waterish vow.

Aris.Our Dion means, my lord, that virtue wanesAs revels wax; and yet an hour of restThe gods allow us. I myself have trainedYoung figures for the dance that wreathes with graceThe needful, idle hour.

Aris.Our Dion means, my lord, that virtue wanes

As revels wax; and yet an hour of rest

The gods allow us. I myself have trained

Young figures for the dance that wreathes with grace

The needful, idle hour.

Diony.You leave us music?

Aris.Ay, 'tis the angel 'tween the sense and soul,A hand on each, that one may feel the touchOf purest heaven mid rosy revelling,The other catch sweet trembles of a waveThat shake her calm till white cheek meets the rose.

Aris.Ay, 'tis the angel 'tween the sense and soul,

A hand on each, that one may feel the touch

Of purest heaven mid rosy revelling,

The other catch sweet trembles of a wave

That shake her calm till white cheek meets the rose.

Diony.And feasting, sir?

Aris.Nay, there's the soul's expenseFor what o'erdims her fair, majestic visions;But fruits of sheltered vales grow lush for man,And awny grasses droop with sugared grains,And wine, tempered to reason's flow, oft lightsThe questing mind.

Aris.Nay, there's the soul's expense

For what o'erdims her fair, majestic visions;

But fruits of sheltered vales grow lush for man,

And awny grasses droop with sugared grains,

And wine, tempered to reason's flow, oft lights

The questing mind.

Diony.Enough! No groaning boardThat shifts its burden to the spirit! No revelTo pleasure Pleasure! Naught but what is meetFor fair philosophy's relaxive hour!Adrastus, see 'tis done. Go instantly![Exit Adrastus]Dion, you're for the harbor?

Diony.Enough! No groaning board

That shifts its burden to the spirit! No revel

To pleasure Pleasure! Naught but what is meet

For fair philosophy's relaxive hour!

Adrastus, see 'tis done. Go instantly![Exit Adrastus]

Dion, you're for the harbor?

DionWith your leave.

Diony.Which we must grant. Your business is our own.

Oc.With you, my lord?

Dion.Most welcome son. Adieu.[Exeunt Dion and Ocrastes]

Ara.Brother, 'tis long since you have visited me.I hold a magnet now in our new friendWill draw you to my house.

Ara.Brother, 'tis long since you have visited me.

I hold a magnet now in our new friend

Will draw you to my house.

Diony.Nay, I must rob you.The palace is his home.

Diony.Nay, I must rob you.

The palace is his home.

Ara.O, not to-day!

Diony.I'll yield to-day, but not an hour beyondTo-morrow's sun. Adieu, Aristocles.Give me thy love; I'll give thee Syracuse.[Exeunt Dionysius and lords]

Diony.I'll yield to-day, but not an hour beyond

To-morrow's sun. Adieu, Aristocles.

Give me thy love; I'll give thee Syracuse.[Exeunt Dionysius and lords]

Ara.[To Aristocles]We have some statues in the garden, sir,May please an eye from Athens. Will you come?[Exeunt Aratea and Aristocles]

Ara.[To Aristocles]We have some statues in the garden, sir,

May please an eye from Athens. Will you come?[Exeunt Aratea and Aristocles]

The.Mother, why look so darkly on Ocrastes?

Nau.Darkly, my daughter?

The.Has he not a soulAs truly virtuous as his face is fair?

The.Has he not a soul

As truly virtuous as his face is fair?

Nau.True, but he's not for you. Believe it.

The.Ah!

Nau.Nor grieve my heart with pleading to know more.Some day I'll speak, but now my bosom's lockedWith key not in my hands.

Nau.Nor grieve my heart with pleading to know more.

Some day I'll speak, but now my bosom's locked

With key not in my hands.

The.Mother, I prayYou'll give no more a flattered, willing earTo lord Phillistus' tongue.

The.Mother, I pray

You'll give no more a flattered, willing ear

To lord Phillistus' tongue.

Nau.What do you mean?

The.I do not know. I am disturbed by him.I scarce can tell you how.

The.I do not know. I am disturbed by him.

I scarce can tell you how.

Nau.To call him friendBut proves my loyalty to the loved dead.

Nau.To call him friend

But proves my loyalty to the loved dead.

The.I do not doubt my mother! No, no, no!But him I fear. His eye speaks muddily,And echoes not his words.

The.I do not doubt my mother! No, no, no!

But him I fear. His eye speaks muddily,

And echoes not his words.

Nau.No more of this!You prattle, child. Say that he loves me——

Nau.No more of this!

You prattle, child. Say that he loves me——

The.Ah,Not that!

The.Ah,

Not that!

Nau.Yet were he villain, is not loveThe soul's sweet cleanser and redeeming incense?

Nau.Yet were he villain, is not love

The soul's sweet cleanser and redeeming incense?

The.The serpent and the bee make food and venomOf the same flower's sweetness; so fair mindsIn love enlarge with merit, while villainy,Sucking such sweet, swells rank and poisonous.

The.The serpent and the bee make food and venom

Of the same flower's sweetness; so fair minds

In love enlarge with merit, while villainy,

Sucking such sweet, swells rank and poisonous.

Nau.No more, my daughter!

[Enter courtiers, right]

Nau.Good-day, my lords! You are early from the play. Did it not please you?First courtier.Tame, tame. I'd not have left my couch at the bath for such. And Dracon's tongue was middle of a pretty tale.Nau.But the banquet—why stayed you not for that?Second courtier.Have you not heard? The seven evil winds have struck the feast, and left but fruit and wine. My wife's as good a cook. Can serve a plate of figs!Nau.What's this?First courtier.As we say. Our delectable gardens are smit with sudden prudent frost. The mullein and the plantain shortly will grow where we have plucked luxuriance' rose.[Enter Aratea and Aristocles]Nau.What do you mean, my lord?First courtier.[Looking at Aristocles] The wind is all too near that wrought this havoc.Aris.Nay, have no fear for Dion. You wrong this hour of promise. Your brother yields us much.Ara.Indeed too much! These sudden born desires are to be feared in him. Ah, here's Ocrastes.Nau.He's much disturbed. I know that brow.[Re-enter Ocrastes, right]The.Ocrastes?

Nau.Good-day, my lords! You are early from the play. Did it not please you?

First courtier.Tame, tame. I'd not have left my couch at the bath for such. And Dracon's tongue was middle of a pretty tale.

Nau.But the banquet—why stayed you not for that?

Second courtier.Have you not heard? The seven evil winds have struck the feast, and left but fruit and wine. My wife's as good a cook. Can serve a plate of figs!

Nau.What's this?

First courtier.As we say. Our delectable gardens are smit with sudden prudent frost. The mullein and the plantain shortly will grow where we have plucked luxuriance' rose.

[Enter Aratea and Aristocles]

Nau.What do you mean, my lord?

First courtier.[Looking at Aristocles] The wind is all too near that wrought this havoc.

Aris.Nay, have no fear for Dion. You wrong this hour of promise. Your brother yields us much.

Ara.Indeed too much! These sudden born desires are to be feared in him. Ah, here's Ocrastes.

Nau.He's much disturbed. I know that brow.

[Re-enter Ocrastes, right]

The.Ocrastes?

Oc.Now heavens shake for what mine eyes have seen!I followed Dion to the southern shoreWhere the new pinnace floats beneath the castle,And there Domenes held him in close talk,When suddenly ere wink could question it,The soldiers had him bound within a boatOutrowing to the pinnace, which took him upAnd bent to sea like an embodied wind.But that a score of traitor arms enforced meThe waves had kept me not on hated land!Surprise so stormed him Dion scarce could call"Revenge me not, but seek to calm the city!"Then from the pinnace a relenting boatBrought this short writing. 'Tis for Aratea.

Oc.Now heavens shake for what mine eyes have seen!

I followed Dion to the southern shore

Where the new pinnace floats beneath the castle,

And there Domenes held him in close talk,

When suddenly ere wink could question it,

The soldiers had him bound within a boat

Outrowing to the pinnace, which took him up

And bent to sea like an embodied wind.

But that a score of traitor arms enforced me

The waves had kept me not on hated land!

Surprise so stormed him Dion scarce could call

"Revenge me not, but seek to calm the city!"

Then from the pinnace a relenting boat

Brought this short writing. 'Tis for Aratea.

Ara.Read—read—Ocrastes—I—I can not see.Oc.[Reads] Aristocles will be thy comfort. Bid him not forget Syracuse to think of me. Now that the thorny counsellor is plucked from court, he can do much with Dionysius. Ocrastes will be to thee a brother of more love than ever was the tyrant. Sweet, farewell. 'Tis from thine eyes I'm banished, not thy heart.Ara.O Dion, Dion! My unhappy lord!

Ara.Read—read—Ocrastes—I—I can not see.

Oc.[Reads] Aristocles will be thy comfort. Bid him not forget Syracuse to think of me. Now that the thorny counsellor is plucked from court, he can do much with Dionysius. Ocrastes will be to thee a brother of more love than ever was the tyrant. Sweet, farewell. 'Tis from thine eyes I'm banished, not thy heart.

Ara.O Dion, Dion! My unhappy lord!

Aris.Abate thy grief, dear lady. Affliction isThe night of man where stars his lustrous soulThat in a happy sun would pale unseen.Ara.My brother! 'Tis his treacherous hand! O, me!Now heaven and earth be naught, I care not![Exeunt Aratea, Nauresta, Theano and attendants]A courtier.Come!There's more to this.Another.Ay, friends, let's to the streets.[Courtiers hurry away. Ocrastes and Aristocles alone]Oc.I'll rouse the populace!Aris.No, you will calm it.Oc.Sir, I was knit in heat and tempered mortal!Your natal star was cold when you were born,Dead in the heavens, had long forgot its fire,And could not give one twinkle's warmth to you!I've blood, and know my friends!Aris.Dost think that sorrowLives only in hot brows? No angers beThat rage not on the tongue?Oc.O, you can feel?Aris.Here sweep the tides that prove it.Oc.Yet so calm?Aris.Who keeps his heart astir with his own woeHas never room for others. Let us putOur paltry love aside and seek the goodOf all the city, not of one becauseHe is our friend. Think not a man may leaveLife's reefed and breakered straits behind and reachPhilosophy's still-waved almighty seaWith selfish sorrow's mottled pilot eye.Oc.And you've a mortal pulse? Can love and die?Aris.I am as you, Ocrastes,—heart and limb,—But I have given my kingdom to my soul,And throned secure above the body's chanceRock not with its misfortune.Oc.Who can keepSuch sovereign state, my lord? Art never tornOr shaken?Aris.What hap of winds, think you, may shakeThe monarch towers of the soul?Oc.Forgive me,Aristocles. Thou sun immovable!How like Hyperion fixed in calm you shine,And riot's faction in my blood grows stillWith looking on thee. I'll to court and striveWith sober measure to effect repealOf Dion's banishment. And failing that,I yet may save for him his untouched wealth.[Going, turns]Is it not lonely on the serene height,My lord?Aris.The gods are sometimes there.[Exit Ocrastes]The gods?Vain words on vainer tongue. O, man, man, man!Weak child of limit and unwinged desire,Coping with deity in daring bout,And drowned at last within a woman's tear!... Hyperion fixed in calm. Ay, true it isThat in the heaven of my sphering mindI've reached the pause solstitial. And would fainTake comet course on new, unbidden trackThan traverse o'er the stale appointed route.Ay, break the orbit's fond and placid round,And swim a wonder to the staring suns!The end is death,—and yet a comet's death.The rushing wings are round me, bear me up,And drive me like a meteor charging doom,When Aratea veils me with her eyes.[Enter Tichus]

Aris.Abate thy grief, dear lady. Affliction isThe night of man where stars his lustrous soulThat in a happy sun would pale unseen.

Aris.Abate thy grief, dear lady. Affliction is

The night of man where stars his lustrous soul

That in a happy sun would pale unseen.

Ara.My brother! 'Tis his treacherous hand! O, me!Now heaven and earth be naught, I care not!

Ara.My brother! 'Tis his treacherous hand! O, me!

Now heaven and earth be naught, I care not!

[Exeunt Aratea, Nauresta, Theano and attendants]

A courtier.Come!There's more to this.

A courtier.Come!

There's more to this.

Another.Ay, friends, let's to the streets.

[Courtiers hurry away. Ocrastes and Aristocles alone]

Oc.I'll rouse the populace!

Aris.No, you will calm it.

Oc.Sir, I was knit in heat and tempered mortal!Your natal star was cold when you were born,Dead in the heavens, had long forgot its fire,And could not give one twinkle's warmth to you!I've blood, and know my friends!

Oc.Sir, I was knit in heat and tempered mortal!

Your natal star was cold when you were born,

Dead in the heavens, had long forgot its fire,

And could not give one twinkle's warmth to you!

I've blood, and know my friends!

Aris.Dost think that sorrowLives only in hot brows? No angers beThat rage not on the tongue?

Aris.Dost think that sorrow

Lives only in hot brows? No angers be

That rage not on the tongue?

Oc.O, you can feel?

Aris.Here sweep the tides that prove it.

Oc.Yet so calm?

Aris.Who keeps his heart astir with his own woeHas never room for others. Let us putOur paltry love aside and seek the goodOf all the city, not of one becauseHe is our friend. Think not a man may leaveLife's reefed and breakered straits behind and reachPhilosophy's still-waved almighty seaWith selfish sorrow's mottled pilot eye.

Aris.Who keeps his heart astir with his own woe

Has never room for others. Let us put

Our paltry love aside and seek the good

Of all the city, not of one because

He is our friend. Think not a man may leave

Life's reefed and breakered straits behind and reach

Philosophy's still-waved almighty sea

With selfish sorrow's mottled pilot eye.

Oc.And you've a mortal pulse? Can love and die?

Aris.I am as you, Ocrastes,—heart and limb,—But I have given my kingdom to my soul,And throned secure above the body's chanceRock not with its misfortune.

Aris.I am as you, Ocrastes,—heart and limb,—

But I have given my kingdom to my soul,

And throned secure above the body's chance

Rock not with its misfortune.

Oc.Who can keepSuch sovereign state, my lord? Art never tornOr shaken?

Oc.Who can keep

Such sovereign state, my lord? Art never torn

Or shaken?

Aris.What hap of winds, think you, may shakeThe monarch towers of the soul?

Aris.What hap of winds, think you, may shake

The monarch towers of the soul?

Oc.Forgive me,Aristocles. Thou sun immovable!How like Hyperion fixed in calm you shine,And riot's faction in my blood grows stillWith looking on thee. I'll to court and striveWith sober measure to effect repealOf Dion's banishment. And failing that,I yet may save for him his untouched wealth.[Going, turns]Is it not lonely on the serene height,My lord?

Oc.Forgive me,

Aristocles. Thou sun immovable!

How like Hyperion fixed in calm you shine,

And riot's faction in my blood grows still

With looking on thee. I'll to court and strive

With sober measure to effect repeal

Of Dion's banishment. And failing that,

I yet may save for him his untouched wealth.[Going, turns]

Is it not lonely on the serene height,

My lord?

Aris.The gods are sometimes there.[Exit Ocrastes]The gods?Vain words on vainer tongue. O, man, man, man!Weak child of limit and unwinged desire,Coping with deity in daring bout,And drowned at last within a woman's tear!... Hyperion fixed in calm. Ay, true it isThat in the heaven of my sphering mindI've reached the pause solstitial. And would fainTake comet course on new, unbidden trackThan traverse o'er the stale appointed route.Ay, break the orbit's fond and placid round,And swim a wonder to the staring suns!The end is death,—and yet a comet's death.The rushing wings are round me, bear me up,And drive me like a meteor charging doom,When Aratea veils me with her eyes.

Aris.The gods are sometimes there.[Exit Ocrastes]

The gods?

Vain words on vainer tongue. O, man, man, man!

Weak child of limit and unwinged desire,

Coping with deity in daring bout,

And drowned at last within a woman's tear!

... Hyperion fixed in calm. Ay, true it is

That in the heaven of my sphering mind

I've reached the pause solstitial. And would fain

Take comet course on new, unbidden track

Than traverse o'er the stale appointed route.

Ay, break the orbit's fond and placid round,

And swim a wonder to the staring suns!

The end is death,—and yet a comet's death.

The rushing wings are round me, bear me up,

And drive me like a meteor charging doom,

When Aratea veils me with her eyes.

[Enter Tichus]

Back to Index Next