 | Isaac Comnenus |  |
Scene III.
—Streets of Constantinople.—A crowd of Monks, Acolytes, and Citizens of the blue faction.1st Citizen.
Patience, fellow-citizens, I say patience. Let us all be patient; let us all be patient.
1st Monk.
I say he is an Iconoclast.
2nd Citizen.
Iconoclast! I know not what is Iconoclast! but this I know,—there's no man ever wore a green scarf but deserved hanging in it.
1st Monk.
I tell thee he is an Iconoclast if ever one of his house was. Did he not break the head of the holy St. Basil (whose name be glorified!) with the butt end of
his lance?
2nd Monk.
I say Anathema, I say Anathema, I say Anathema. Body and soul, life and limb, here and
hereafter . . .
Monks and Acolytes.
Anathema esto, Anathema.
1st Citizen.
Patience, excellent friends and fellowcitizens! I say let us debate this matter as wise men
with patience and silence.
I say,—body and soul, life and limb, here and hereafter, be he cursed.
3rd Citizen.
Then to hell with him at once.
2nd Citizen.
Most assuredly, holy father, he shall go to hell.
1st Citizen.
Patience, sweet friends; silence, gentle countrymen; patience and silence, I say. I am about
to explain this matter to you.
2nd Citizen.
Why all this clamour? Silence, and hear the worthy Hypatius.
3rd Citizen.
Silence! Why roar and growl ye thus like the bears in the Hippodrome?
1st Citizen.
Hem!—We are all agreed in one thing,— that Count Comnenus is to be made an end of.
2nd Citizen.
All, all.
3rd Citizen.
Agreed, agreed.
1st Citizen.
Then having come to the conclusion, which is with us as it were the ground and beginning of
the argument, it behoves us to look to the reasons, which are, as I may say, the ways and means of coming to the conclusion. For if you fall to without knowing the reasons, you'll be held for no better than brute beasts; since all your wise men, look ye, when they are resolved upon a thing, have ever sought out the reasons before they began. Now you all know that last year's harvest in Cappadocia was scarce worth the ingathering, and that corn here in Constantinople cannot be had for money. And who is the cause of this, think ye?
Comnenus, Comnenus.
1st Citizen.
And that the Huns and Bulgarians and other such long-haired savages carried fire and sword and bows and arrows and long spear and short spear through the heart, and, as I may say, to the very neck and heels of the Chersonese, and looked a very terrible look at us over the long wall.—And who brought all this
about, think ye?
All.
Comnenus, Comnenus.
1st Citizen.
But how did Comnenus bring it about, answer me that?—You're dumb,—you know not. Now
hear me. You all know that some years by-gone this Comnenus was out in the Persian war, fighting in as Christian-like a manner as I myself or any of you. Now mark;—after he was taken prisoner, there comes to him in his tent one evening an old man, wrapped in a flowing
mantle, and holding, look ye, a cup in one hand and a mighty volume in the other. He was as wicked a Magian as you shall see in all Persia; and he said to him, look ye, he said . . . by the sweat of St. Isidore I have forgotten what he said. But ever since, this Comnenus has been one of your bloody schismatics and heretical murdering villains.
All.
We know it. We know it.
1st Citizen.
Ay, and you know too the holy image of the blessed St. Basil, in the niche over the monks of
St. Conon's gate. Now this Comnenus, no farther back than one night I know not when, riding past like a
knights from over-sea, puts me his lance in the rest with
the butt end to the onset, and drives it two inches and a
half into St. Basil's eye.
2nd Monk.
Anathema esto!
All.
Anathema!
1st Citizen.
Softly! you all know that St. Basil is the Patron Saint of this city; now the case stands here;— will he ever look evenly on this city again?
All.
Never, never.
1st Citizen.
Never while Comnenus is in it.
Citizens.
We'll drag him out of it, we'll burn him alive.
1st Citizen.
But they'll tell you, they of the green faction, that he's a very Socrates, a second Cæsar, and holds your clubs are no better than oaten straws and
will not frighten the flies from lighting on your noses.
But mark you this—Did Cæsar ever consort with the
Magians? Did Cæsar ever hit St. Basil in the eye?
Citizens.
No, no.
1st Citizen.
And though I think he be neither a saint nor a martyr, yet I'll be bound for him he was no
blood-thirsty heretic. Why then, if Cæsar was no heretic, a
heretic can be no Cæsar. And look ye,—what I say is
this,—shall all Constantinople be starved to death
because of one man?
All.
Never, never. Burn his house. Cut his throat.
1st Citizen.
Then look ye, what I say is this,—if he be not already fled forth the city gates—
Stop him, seize him, secure the gates.
2nd Monk.
Smite him hip and thigh, hew him in pieces before the Lord.
Enter a Eunuch of the Palace.
Eunuch.
Why do ye flourish your staves in the air, good friends? Worthy father, why dost thou ventilate thy
garment in the east wind? Whom seek ye?
All.
Comnenus, Comnenus.
Eunuch.
Then your search is not like to be long, for I came before him but half the street's length.
1st Citizen.
Count Comnenus, saidst thou! How attended?
Eunuch.
There is a young officer from the eastern army with him.
2nd Citizen.
Armed, armed, saidst thou?
Eunuch.
Ay, short sword and shirt of mail.
1st Citizen.
Fall on him, down with them both! I'll run and make sure of the east gate, lest he make his
escape.
2nd Citizen.
And I the north.
3rd Citizen.
And I the south.
[Exeunt all but Fourth and Fifth Citizens.
4th Citizen.
Lo you! how they run! to my thinking they are no better than arrant cowards.
5th Citizen.
Assuredly they have the gift of running. But if we stay here alone we're dead men.
4th Citizen.
No question of it,—dead.
Come along; they say this Comnenus is sworn friend and minister to the Devil. I tell thee
Satan took his Bible-oath to back him out in aught he
put his hand to.
4th Citizen.
I would go, but that it looks so villanous dastardly.
5th Citizen.
Do as thou wilt. Fare thee well!
[Exit.
Enter Comnenus and an Officer of the Eastern Army.
Comnenus.
One whom my brother . . .
. . . What dost stand i' the way for, friend?
4th Citizen.
Nothing, worthy Sir—good day, noble Count.
[Exit.
Comnenus.
One whom my brother holds in trust, to me
Is as a brother welcome. More than once
I wrote to beg him, should he come at all,
To come with what celerity he might;
But he outstrips my expectation. Speed,
'Tis true, is needful; you yourself may see
The state in which I stand; no day goes by
But fills the streets with tumult; even now
Methought I saw a flying rack of the storm
Scud by to leeward. Say, what think you, Sir?
Officer.
My Lord, for those that I have seen, they seem
The very scum of the city and dregs of the Church.
Why so they are—yet these things have their source.
You are a soldier, Sir,—ay, and a young one;
You would instruct me—for a soldier's dawn
Is rich in lights and guidance—you would call
These gatherings here and there that rise and break
And vanish, worthier of the city watch
With whip in hand, than of a soldier's sword.
Sir, if these slight imposthumes which you see
Were the disease, not, as they are, the symptoms,
Think you I'd send so far to have them lanced?
This multitude, this monster idiot-born,
Moves you not one of its Briarean hands
By its own brainless head; but let some chief,
Though he be ne'er so base, but whoop them on
And they shall follow till the noblest fall.
Your master must be nearer ere I move.
You left him at Ancyra?
Officer.
There, my Lord,
He waits your further tidings, or will move
His somewhat jaded force more gently on.
Comnenus.
'Twere good he came no further or came fast.
I wrote with some caution, Sir; I'll speak with less;
Well knowing whom my brother trusts trustworthy.
Tell him that in my mind the time of choice
Has slidden from our grasp; tell him that now
Our only armour is the crown and purple.
To one of these must the Comneni come:
Suspicion thus draws down the thing it fears
And emperors leave no refuge save in empire.
This thou shalt tell my brother is my mind.
Say further thus:
If having duly weighed the double venture
He hold forbearance for the lighter risk,
Let him lead back his forces (for myself
I'd put the issue on a throw of the dice
As lief as on aught else); but so he view
These matters as I view them, let him on
With all the speed his lightest horse can make
To the Propontis on the hither shore,
And, barring accidents, I'll meet him there;
And you, Sir, too, I hope.
Officer.
I'll use all speed.
Comnenus.
When past the city gates;
Till then go leisurely and unobserved.
I've noted when I send young gallants forth
In things of trust and moment, straight they'll lash
Their horses in a gallop through the street,
That Mother Gape may ope her casement wide
And Father Quidnunc stare. Take heed of this.
Use all despatch, not as to boast great things
Are staked upon thy speed, but so to join
Despatch with privacy as the stake's on both.
Deem that this trust is for the empire's weal
[Exit Officer.
He's a young envoy in a cause like this.
Alexius has the gifts that quicken zeal
In them that serve him, but he hardly knows
What harness it should wear or whither speed.
| Isaac Comnenus | |