University of Virginia Library

Scene II.

—A Street.
Enter Damon, guarded, and Procles.
Damon.
A moment's pause here, Procles.
We discours'd together
Of an old friend of mine, who in all likelihood
Would question thee concerning my last thoughts,
While leaving this vain world; I do entreat thee,
When thou shalt see that man, commend me to him,
And say, a certainty of how true a friend
And father he will be unto my wife,
And child—

Pyth.
(Without)
Hold back! it is impossible
That ye butcher him, till we speak together!
Enter Pythias, preceded by Soldiers, who obstruct his way.
I am his nearest friend! I should receive
His dying words—hold back!
(Breaks through them.)
O, Damon! Damon!

Damon.
I wish'd for this, but fear'd it, Pythias!
Tush!—we are men, my Pythias, we are men,
And tears do not become us.

Pyth.
Doom and death
In the same moment! Is there no hope, Damon?
Is every thing impossible?

Damon.
For me,
With Dionysius, every thing.—I crav'd
But six hours' respite, that my wife may come,
And see me—

Pyth.
And he would not?

Damon.
Not an hour—
Just to have kiss'd her, and my little boy—
Just to have kiss'd her—

Pyth.
The cold villain!

Damon.
Well,
All that is o'er now, and this talk superfluous.
Ere you came up, my friend, I was about
To leave a greeting for you with the officer—
I bade him say, too,—for, despite of rules
Well conn'd and understood, in such a time
As this—so sudden, hopeless, and unlook'd for,
The eye will water, and the heart grow cowardly,
At thoughts of home, and things we love at home;
And something like a sorrow, or a fear,
For what may happen, will stick in the throat,
To choke our words, and make them weak and womanish.

Pyth.
Tears have a quality of manhood in them,
When shed for what we love.

Damon.
I bade him say,
That half my fear for her, and my young boy,
As to their future fate, was banished,
In the full certainty I felt of all
The care and kindness thou wilt have of them.

Pyth.
That was a true thought, Damon.

Damon.
I know it, Pythias;
O, I know it Pythias;
And when the shock of this hath pass'd away,
And thou art happy with thy sweet Calanthe,—

Pyth.
Damon.

Damon.
Well, Pythias?

Pyth.
Did'st thou not say
It was thy last desire to look upon
Thy wife and child, before—

Damon.
I would give up,
Were my life meted out by destiny
Into a thousand years of happiness,
All that long measure of felicity,
But for a single moment, in the which
I might compress them to my heart.

Pyth.
Good Procles,
Lead me at once to Dionysius—
I mean unto the king—that's his new name—
Lead me unto the king—Ha! here he comes!
Enter Dionysius and Damocles.
Behold me, Dionysius, at thy feet!
As thou dost love thy wife, and thy sweet children;
As thou art a husband and a father, hear me!
Let Damon go and see his wife and child
Before he dies—for four hours respite him—
Put me in chains; plunge me into his dungeon,
As pledge for his return: do this—but this—
And may the gods themselves build up thy greatness
As high as their own heaven.

Dion.
What wonder's this?
Is he thy brother?

Damon.
No, not quite my brother?
Not—yes, he is—he is my brother!

Dion.
Damon, is this a quibble of thy school?

Pyth.
No quibble, for he is not so in kin,
Not in the fashion that the word puts on,
But brother in the heart!

Dion.
(To Damon.)
Did'st urge him on
To this?

Pyth.
By the gods, no!

Dion.
And should I grant
Thy friend's request, leaving thee free to go,
Unwatch'd, unguarded, thou mak'st nought of it,
Quite sure that thou wilt come and ransom him,
At the imminent time?

Damon.
Sure of it? Hearest thou, Heaven?
The emptiest things reverberate most sound,
And hollow hearts have words of boisterous promise.
I can say only—I am sure!

Dion.
'Tis granted.
How far abides thy wife from hence?

Damon.
Four leagues.

Dion.
For six hours we defer thy death. 'Tis now
The noon exactly; and at the sixth hour
See that thou stand'st not far from him; away!
Conduct that man to prison.

Damon.
Farewell, Pythias!

Pyth.
And farewell, Damon! Not a word upon it.
Speed thee. What, tears?—Forbear.

Damon.
I did not think
To shed one tear; but friendship like to thine—

Pyth.
Farewell! Come, officer.

Damon.
I pray thee, Procles,
Give me the testament thou had'st of me.
(Procles gives it him.
Pythias, thy hand again: Pythias, farewell!

Pyth.
Farewell!

(Exit Damon on one side, Pythias, Procles, and Guards on the other.)
Dion.
O, by the wide world, Damocles,
I did not think the heart of man was moulded
To such a purpose.

Dam.
It is wondrous.

Dion.
Wondrous!
Sir, it doth win from the old imaginers
Their wit and novelty!—
I'll visit Pythias in his dungeon:—get me
A deep disguise.—We'll use such artifice
As the time, and our own counsel may suggest—
If they should triumph, crowns are nothingness,
Glory is sound—and grandeur, poverty!

[Exeunt.