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ACT THE SECOND.

SCENE THE FIRST.

Timophanes, Echilus.
Ech.
Timoleon comes this instant: to thy prayers
And mine reluctantly he lent an ear;
Nothing constrain'd him but his mother's wishes.

Tim.
Among his many virtues I know well
A yielding heart he counts not: but to-day,
If upright meanings, join'd to upright deeds,
Will ever profit me, will be the time,
When his inflexibility will yield
To my persuasions; or that day will now
Arise no more.

Ech.
With him that last I hear
It always seems to me as if the truth
Resided; yet the truth is one alone.
By friendship and by blood to thee conjoin'd,
By friendship and by reverence to him,

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I fain would find a mean by which, to both,
I might display my undissembled love.
Ah! be united; and to your resolves
Myself, my heart, my mind, my sword, my substance,
Do not disdain to accept as ministers.

Tim.
I know thee well, Echilus ... But I see
Timoleon coming: leave us both together;
I would at length converse with him; to me
He may in single conference perchance
More unreservedly disclose his thoughts.

SCENE THE SECOND.

Timoleon, Timophanes.
Tim.
Once more, my brother, I behold thee here;
Within these lares, though inflexibly
By thee deserted, always thine. I grieve
That only the entreaties of my mother,
And not thy own spontaneous will, to-day
Restore thee to my sight.

Timol.
Timophanes ...

Tim.
What do I hear?—thou call'st me no more brother?
Perchance thou deem'st it a disgrace?

Timol.
One blood,
One mother, and one country, gave us birth,
Timophanes: a brother hitherto
I am to thee; thou callest me a brother.

Tim.
Ah! what unmerited and harsh rebuke
To me thou offerest! ... In which of us
Did anger first arise? What do I say?
Anger 'twixt us? Thou only art with me
Incensed. From me thou fleddest; thou didst first

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From our maternal home withdraw thy feet.
Did I not, to retain thee there, employ
Tears and entreaties? But thou gavest ear
More willingly to injurious calumnies
Than to my cries. To thy rage, rage, oh no!
But love, forbearance, reason I opposed
In vain.—Thou seest now in what esteem
I hold thee: in the arms of prosperous fate
Me thou abandonedst; hence I indulged
A hope, nay, certain faith, that I should find thee
In adverse fate a refuge: I meanwhile
Hoped evermore to soften thee, and make thee
Enter as partner in my joyful state ...

Timol.
Joyful! Oh! what say'st thou? How speedily,
Since I have ceased to see thee, hast thou past,
Beyond all bounds, the licence of misrule!
To shed blood every day, a joyful state!

Tim.
But thou thyself, whose days were evermore
Illumed by justice and controul'd by truth,
Didst thou not gain for me the power I hold,
The guerdon of my services, thyself?
What force then is it of an adverse fate
Which always causes, if one man shed blood,
The action to be deem'd tyrannical,
While if a number share in shedding it,
'Tis call'd a deed of justice?

Timol.
Hear me.—We
Brought up together, fully know each other.
Ambitious, thus prevented from obeying;
Impetuous, which made evermore to thee
All moderate command impossible:
Such in thy house, in Corinth, in the camp,

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Wert thou.

Tim.
Dost thou for the gift perchance
Of victory and life upbraid me now,
Which it seemed good to thy discerning valour
To give me in the camp?

Timol.
That gift of mine
Arose from duty, not beneficence;
At that conjuncture fortune smiled on me.
Now make me not repent it. Than thyself
I never saw a more accomplish'd warrior:
Nor a more valiant leader than thou wert
Did Corinth e'er possess. But afterwards,
When from internal broils it was esteem'd
A cure (and of all ills it was the worst)
To keep a standing army, and elect
Over that army a perpetual head,
If thou wert chosen to the perilous honour,
If on thyself the military power,
Join'd to the civil, fell, impute not thou
To me the fault. I do not controvert,
I was reluctant to appear myself
More diffident for a brother, than I saw
That others for a mere compatriot were.
But for thee, from that day, for thee I trembled,
And for my country more; nor in my heart
Did envy enter; no, I wept alone
At thy distinction.

Tim.
My distinction! How?
Was it not also thine? My counsellor,
My friend, my leader, wert thou not to me,
If so thou wouldest? and had we put forth,
Thy judgment thou, and I my enterprize,
Whom should we then have fear'd?


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Timol.
Whether thou deem
Thyself my brother or my monarch, now
In all respects inaptly thou with me
Adoptest flatteries.—Oh, what sayest thou?
Wert thou not deaf to every word of mine,
From that disastrous day when thou wert raised
To unprecedented, unaccustomed power?—
Was not our former unpretending dwelling
Begirt with guards? Proudly with royal pomp
Didst thou not issue thence? On every face
Mingled alarm and indignation sate.
The thresholds of this house, no longer mine,
By impious sycophants besieged. To truth
Denied all entrance; impious detractors,
Thirsting for gold and blood, audaciously
Flocking in crowds; and mercenary spies
And satellites, and tears, and arms, and quarrels,
Silence and terror ... Saw I not all this? ...
And do not I (ah too much!) see it yet?
Could such a fierce and ominous assemblage
Form a fit train for me? Hence I withdrew,
For this was not a citizen's abode;
And in my bosom, far more yet than anger,
I carried with me pity for thyself,
And for thy error and infatuate pride.
I palliated thy repeated faults
For a long time; the people and the nobles,
Heard me asseverate often that thou would'st not
E'er make thyself a tyrant. Wretched me!
For thee degraded, for thy sake become
A liar, I almost, in thy cause, was
A traitor to my country; for thy heart
I fully understood. Ungrateful brother!

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To rescue thee from danger, and avert,
Through thy means, such dishonour to myself,
Thus did I act; and not to clear for thee
A way to guilty power, but to leave thee
One for repentance ...

Tim.
And for this intent
Thou hast selected in my stead new brothers
'Mid my most open, bitterest enemies ...

Timol.
The few remaining lovers of their country
In them I've chosen. I consort with these,
Not from my hate to thee, but love to them;
And haply to suspend (since thou wilt not
Divert it from thee) that just lofty vengeance
Which every citizen that loves his country
Cannot deny to it. I would not at first
Thy arbitrary impulses restrain.
In this I greatly err'd: to shelter thee
From that disgrace thou had'st incurr'd so justly,
I suffered thee, without reproof, to spill
Innocent blood; or haply if 'twere guilty,
Blood spill'd by thee beyond all use of law.
Too much I loved thee; too much was thy brother,
Beyond the duty of a citizen.
I welcomed the illusion, that the hate,
The restless terror, and the dark suspicion,
That always emulously agitate
The irresolute heart of every man that dares
To make himself a tyrant, tearing thine
Little by little, yet for ever tearing,
Would be too fierce a torment; and at once
A spur to penitence ... In this I hoped,
I hope it still; yes, brother, and dare more
Conjure thee to it; by these tears unfeigned,

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These patriotic and fraternal tears,
That thou beholdest coursing down my cheeks,
And by the suppliant accents of a man
That never trembled for himself, repent!
The day at length is come; thou art arrived
At that imperative and fearful point
Between a tyrant and a citizen,
From which thou must precipitately fly,
Or everlastingly resign thy brother.

Tim.
Archidas speaks in thee: his sentiments
I recognize too plainly!

SCENE THE THIRD.

Demariste, Timoleon, Timophanes.
Tim.
Mother, come;
Ah! may thy intercession be availing
To make my brother's heart somewhat relent.

Timol.
Yes, mother, come; and may thy intercession
Avail to accomplish what my heart desires,
The restoration of a real brother.

Dem.
Ye love each other; why let jealousies
Disturb your friendship?

Tim.
His too austere virtue,
Not suited to the times ...

Timol.
His too exorbitant
And haughty wishes, worthy of the times,
But not of one whom I would call my brother.

Dem.
But what, his power, not gain'd by violence,
Can that afflict thee? He who saved his country,
Wouldst thou have him amidst the lowest people,
Degraded, undistinguish'd, obscure, nothing?


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Timol.
What do I hear! Oh pestilential, fierce,
Insatiable desire of royal power!
How soon dost thou enervate every man
Unfurnished with defence from lofty thought!
How quickly does the insidious appetite
For arbitrary power, in every heart,
Tempted by fair occasions, root itself!—
Is it excluded from thy heart, oh mother?
Thyself a citizen, gav'st us our lives,
Brothers and citizens; nor deemedst thou
The name of citizen disgraceful then:
In a true country born, thou fed'st us here,
And in her service here thou brought'st us up.
And hear I words within these walls from thee,
Scarcely befitting the distemper'd weakness
Of a despotic oriental queen?

Tim.
Mother, thou seest it; he twists all to evil.
Hear how his indiscreet, fallacious zeal,
Makes him insensible to nature's cries.

Dem.
How many times have I not heard thyself
Revile this city? Its corrupted customs,
Its venal magistrates ...

Timol.
But tell me, mother,
Did'st thou e'er know me, e'en in words, prefer
To venal magistrates, corrupted customs,
A monarch absolute, and hireling troops?
Oh mother, for your honour and for mine
I will imagine thee yet innocent;
And thee, my brother, more impetuous
Than criminal. To what thy perilous schemes
May lead thee, seest thou not? I then will be
A light, a revelation to thy darkness.
Thou yet hast time. A noble reparation,

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Worthy of a great citizen, remains;
A sacrifice most generous ...

Tim.
And 'tis ...

Dem.
'Twill be most surely a magnanimous deed,
If in thy generous breast it is conceived.
Reveal it to him.

Timol.
Thy authority,
Which by abusing it thou hast made guilty,
Spontaneously renounce it all.

Tim.
To thee
I will renounce it, if thou wilt accept it.

Timol.
From whom hast ta'en it? From thy brother? Speak,
Or from thy fellow-citizens? Restore
Thy country to its rights; suspect not me
Of perfidy. If any one but thou
Possest this power, he long ago had lost it.
Reflect, that hitherto with thee I've used
Explicit means.

Tim.
Timoleon, I reflect
That an authority the many gave,
The many only can resume. The law,
What I am now did constitute me first;
Let those who framed it, abrogate that law,
I yield at once.

Timol.
And dost thou speak of law,
Where an audacious mercenary band
Confounds the right by might?

Tim.
Would'st thou expose me,
Defenceless, to the brutal turbulence,
The envy, rage, revenge of Archidas,
And others equally with him malignant,
Whose fears alone restrain them?


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Timol.
Be thou arm'd
By innocence, and not by bullying braggarts;
Nor make a pretext of the fears of others
To hide thine own. If thou art innocent,
Why fear? If thou art not, not only fear
The rage of Archidas, but that of all;—
—Fear mine.

Dem.
What do I hear? Alas! I came
To reconcile you both, and a new source
Of animosity inflames you both
To fiercer rage than ever! Woe is me! ...

Tim.
Mother, with thee I leave him. He, inflamed
With too much anger, now could ill with me
Contend.—Be our opinions what they may,
Accordant or discordant, no dissent
Can e'er obliterate from my constant heart
The recollection that I am thy brother.

SCENE THE FOURTH.

Demariste, Timoleon.
Timol.
Behold a miracle! He who till now
Was rage itself, who in his fervid breast
Nursed flames more turbulent than those of Ætna,
Already is an adept in the art
Of simulation; and smooths o'er his rage
Now that he learns to batten it with blood.

Dem.
Son, but in this too greatly prejudiced,
Thy mind deceives thee.

Timol.
Ah no! rather thou
Art too much prejudiced; nor wilt thou see
Objects most manifest and most pernicious.

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Mother, from thee afar I live; and 'twere,
To make thy judgment sane, needful to thee
To have me always at thy side. I was
Once dear to thee ...

Dem.
And still thou art, believe me ...

Timol.
Thou should'st then love, as much as thou lovest me,
Intrinsic glory. Emulously we
Should try once more to gain it: from my brother
I would remove an everlasting blot:
I love him, far more than myself I love him;
As much as I love thee. Thou hast much power
To work upon his passions; and should'st try
In a resolve to strengthen him, at once
Magnanimous and indispensable ...

Dem.
To become private? ...

Timol.
To become a man
And citizen; to disenthrall himself
From universal hatred; to retrace
Th'ancient forsaken path of real virtue;
To be once more my brother; for as such
Already, I no more acknowledge him.
Mother, in vain thou flatterest thyself:
Here truth, except I bring it, enters not.
Ye live among intimidated slaves:
And though embosomed in the heart of Corinth,
Breathe not its air: here emulously all
Applaud your cruel hardihood: ye hear
Torments call'd justice; frantic outrages,
Suitable punishments; audacious deeds,
Preventive measures.—Leave your guilty dwelling,
And ye shall hear an universal murmur,
Cries, imprecations, menaces, and insults:

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Investigate the secret heart of each,
And in the hidden chambers of each breast
Ye shall find hatred, schemes of ruin: all
Have sworn your infamy and massacre;
And in proportion as general fear
Delay the punishment, so much more cruel,
Atrocious, merited, and violent,
Shall it be poured on your devoted heads.

Dem.
Ah son! ... Thou mak'st me tremble ...

Timol.
For yourselves
I always tremble. Do thou then, I pray thee,
Take pity on thyself, on him, and me.
I am so circumstanced, that every ill
That falls on you with added weight is mine:
But, at the same time, every injury
My country bears from you is also mine.
My heart is torn by two discordant feelings;
I am a son, a citizen, and brother:
Beloved names! no one knows how to prize them
More than myself, no one more ardently
Seeks to perform the duties they involve:
Ah! put not to the test which tie o'er me
Is most prevailing. I am born a Grecian;
And thou, a Grecian, understandest me.—
Thou seest me approaching the dire point
Of being your avowed, fierce, mortal foe;
Then yield belief to my remonstrances,
While as a brother, and a son, I speak.

Dem.
Oh! what God speaks in thee? ... I will endeavour
To make thy brother hear me ...

Timol.
Ah! depart
Without delay; exert o'er him thy influence.

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If he no more unsheathe his bloody sword,
'Twill be, I hope, in time: to-day thou canst,
And thou alone canst reconcile thy sons;
Live with them joyfully beneath the shelter
Of popular applause;—or disunite,
And lose them, thus, for ever.