University of Virginia Library

Scene IV.

—A Chamber in the Palace.—Eudocia standing at a casement. Anna sitting near.
Eudocia.
Look, cousin, look! for a more princely pomp
Ne'er blessed a maiden's sight.

Anna.
I'm sick of shows.
What do you see?

Eudocia.
The troops, a host in arms,
Fill up the palace square, and them beyond
As far as eye can reach, the multitude
Throng through the ways. Hail to that silken flag,
The proud Comnenian banner! Long may it float
Triumphantly above yon palace gate!

Anna.
Your heart is in the pageant; you were wont
To taunt your sex that they were all for shows.

Eudocia.
My heart! ay, every pulse of it that beats!
And call you this a show? I tell you, girl,
That were these squares and palaces black dust,
These ways more desert than the Palmyrene,
And were all silent save the mouse-bat's wing,
So that our banner waved above the waste
My triumph would be full.

Anna.
Well; be it so;
I meant not to reprove your triumph.

Eudocia.
Ah!
I see him,—there he comes, and close beside
The princely boy Alexius. Heard you that?
A shout as of an empire drunk with joy!
Again and louder! Hear you?

Anna.
Now they're still.
How suddenly it ceased!

Eudocia.
He speaks to them.
I saw him wave his hand.

Anna.
Would we could hear!

Eudocia.
I heard him once address some mutinous troops:
'Twas with a grace so winning yet so bold
That their ferocious clamour died away
And when he ceased they cried, “Long live the Count!”

Anna.
See, from their hands he takes the diadem.
What means he now?

Eudocia.
Look! look! Alexius stoops,
And on his head he puts the Crown.

Anna.
And hark!
They shout again, and can you not discern
“Long live Alexius!” is the burthen now?

Eudocia.
He has transferred the empire! as I live
Discrowned his proper head!
(A pause.)
It is not well.
My life long have I looked to see him crowned,
And much I strove and struggled to that end,
And thousands toiled with no less zeal, from whom
Was much less owing, and have they no claim
Who ventured—much or little—all they had,
Or might have or might hope to have, for him—
Have they no rights?

Anna.
But should Alexius reign
He will be good and generous to them all.

Eudocia.
Alexius! who's to govern in his nonage?

Anna.
They ope the gates; the multitude throng in;
Some one approaches.

Eudocia.
Isaac, by his step.
I'll tell him all I think.

Anna.
Oh no, not now;
Give him a welcome now.
Enter Comnenus.
My friend, my cousin,
A thousand welcomes leaping to my lips
Would fain be uttered if they could.

Comnenus.
Enough;
More than an empire is the worth of one.
You stay too long; the tables are all spread.

Eudocia.
Where is your diadem?

Comnenus.
'Tis given away.
No more about it—there's a feast below.

Eudocia.
It is not well to balk your triumphs thus,
And cheat the friends who aided you to rise.
All was endured for you—ay, in the hope
That this which has come would come—that this hour
Of full regality would crown the ascent,
The perils of the upward path were braved.

Comnenus.
Eudocia, be content; I could not reign.

Eudocia.
Not reign! Who says not you were born to reign?

Comnenus.
I am not of that mind; of what hath been,
I can say boldly I was born to that;
More can I not,—unless it be worth while
To predicate that I was born to die.
Engraft, my sister, on a greener stock
Your love and pride, and they shall flourish long:
There wants not divination of decay
In that from which your earlier hopes drew life.
Alexius is docile; him your care
Shall train to empire, him your counsel teach,
As counsel is there none by which in straits
I half so much have profited. Now first
I need it not; for henceforth there is none
Can be of counsel with me. I transfer
That with the crown, a not unequal gift
Nor ill assorting with imperial power.

Eudocia.
I know you not; so all unroyal now
That rose to royalty so gloriously—
Now when all men are gazing at your height
As at a ruling planetary power.

Comnenus.
I never, even when a boy, desired
To be star-gazed of men. You could not think it.
What I desired has been this day fulfilled;
The living of my race are safe and free;
The dead are not dishonoured: some firm friends
And many loose adherents will be paid,
Some less, some more, the wages of their work.
This was desired; this was or will be done;
And being done, I know not that I owe
To dead or living of mankind aught more.

Eudocia.
And how wilt thou dispose thy future life
To profit more thyself?

Comnenus.
Of that hereafter.
Alexius must feast his Lords below,
And you assist him. I must give meanwhile
Some needful orders and survey the posts
Or e'er the night waste further. Fare you well.

Eudocia.
My noble brother, must you go? Farewell.
I said not aught ungentle? if I did,
You know that I have loved you from your birth.

Comnenus.
Not an ungentle word—not one—not one.
I'll seek your chamber ere we sleep and court
Some further conference.

Eudocia.
I know not why,
But I am loth to see you leave us. Well:
Till midnight I shall scarce expect you back;
But do not fail me then.

Comnenus.
About that hour.

[Exit.
Eudocia.
Oh! I forgot—but he is gone.

Anna.
What is it?

Eudocia.
I wished to tell him he should take his guard;
The city is disorderly—no matter;
We'll send Macrinus.—Are you ready?—Come.