 | Gycia |  |
420
SCENE III.
—The council chamber of the Senate of Cherson.Zetho and Senators; afterwards Gycia.
Zet.
Most worthy brethren, Senators of Cherson,
In great perplexity of mind and will
I summon ye to-night. The Lady Gycia,
Our Lamachus's daughter, sends request,
Urgent as 'twere of instant life and death,
That I should call yet here. What care can move
Such anxious thought in her, on this the eve
Of the high festival herself has founded,
I know not, but 'twould seem the very air
Is full of floating rumours, vague alarms,
Formless suspicions which elude the grasp,
Unspoken presages of coming ill
Which take no shape. For whence should danger come?
We are at peace with all. Our former foe
Is now our dearest friend; the Prince Asander,
Though of a hasty spirit and high temper,
Dwells in such close, concordant har mony
With his loved wife that he is wholly ours;
And yet though thus at peace, rumours of war
And darkling plots beset us. Is it not thus?
Have ye heard aught?
1st Sen.
Zetho, 'tis true. Last night, a citizen
Sware he heard clang of arms and ring of mail
At midnight by the house of Lamachus!
2nd Sen.
My freedman, coming home at grey of dawn,
Saw a strange ship unload her merchandise,
And one bale chanced to fall, and from it came
Groanings and drops of blood!
3rd Sen.
Two nights ago,
The ways being white with snow, I on the quay
Saw the thick-planted marks of armèd feet;
But, rising with the dawn, I found the place
Swept clean with care!
Zet.
Brethren, I know not what These things portend.
Enter Gycia.
But see, she comes! Good daughter,
Why is thy cheek so pale?
Gycia.
This is the wont
Of women. Grief drives every drop of blood
Back to the breaking heart, which love calls forth
To mantle on the cheek. Sirs, I have come
On such an errand as might drive a woman
Stronger than I to madness; I have come
To tell you such a tale as well might fetter
My tongue and leave me speechless. Pity me
If I do somewhat wander in my talk!
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Drawing some secret panel in the wall,
I saw the long hall filled with armèd men
Of Bosphorus, and at their head—O Heaven,
I cannot say it!—at their head I saw
My husband, my Asander, my own love,
[Senators rise with strong emotion.
Who ordered them and bade them all stand ready
To-morrow night at midnight. What means this?
What else than that these traitorous bands shall slay
Our Cherson's liberties, and give to murder
Our unsuspecting people, whom the feast
Leaves unprepared for war? I pray you, sirs,
Lose not one moment. Call the citizens
To arms while yet 'tis time! Defeat this plot!
Do justice on these traitors! Save the city,
Though I am lost!
Zet.
Daughter, thy loyal love
To our dear city calls for grateful honour
From us who rule. In thy young veins the blood
Of patriot Lamachus flows to-day as strong
As once it did in his; nay, the warm tide
Which stirred the lips of bold Demosthenes
And all that dauntless band who of old time
Gave heart and life for Athens, still is thine
In our Hellenic story, there is none
Who has done more than thou, who hast placed love,
Wedlock, and queenly rule, and all things dear
To a tender woman's heart, below the State—
A patriot before all. Is there no favour
A State preserved may grant thee?
Gycia.
Noble Zetho,
I ask but this. I know my husband's heart,
How true it was and loyal. He is led,
I swear, by evil counsels to this crime:
And maybe, though I seek not to excuse him,
It was the son's love for his dying sire,
Whom he should see no more, that scheming men
Have worked on to his ruin. Banish him
To his own city, though it break my heart,
But harm him not; and for those wretched men
Whose duty 'tis to obey, shed not their blood,
But let the vengeance of our city fall
Upon the guilty only.
Zet.
Brethren all,
Ye hear what 'tis she asks, and though to grant it
Is difficult indeed, yet her petition
Comes from the saviour of the State. I think
We well may grant her prayer. Though well I know
How great the danger, yet do I believe
It may be done. Is it so, worthy brethren?
[Senators nod assent.
Daughter, thy prayer is granted.
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Sirs, I thank you;
I love you for your mercy.
Zet.
For the rest,
I counsel that we do not rouse the city.
'Twere of no use to-night to set our arms,
Blunt with long peace and rusted with disuse,
Against these banded levies. By tomorrow—
And we are safe till then—we shall have time
To league together such o'erwhelming force
As may make bloodshed needless, vain their plot,
And mercy possible. Meantime, dear lady,
Breathe not a word of what thine eyes have seen,
But bear thyself as though thou hadst seen nothing,
And had no care excepting to do honour
To thy dead sire; and when the weary day
Tends to its close, school thou thy heavy heart,
And wear what mask of joy thou canst, and sit
Smiling beside thy lord at the high feast,
Where all will meet. See that his cup is filled
To the brim; drink healths to Bosphorus and Cherson.
Seem thou to drink thyself, having a goblet
Of such a colour as makes water blush
Rosy as wine. When all the strangers' eyes
Grow heavy, then, some half an hour or more
From midnight, rise as if to go to rest,
Bid all good night, and thank them for their presence.
Then, issuing from the banquet-hall, lock fast
The great doors after thee, and bring the key
To us, who here await thee. Thus shalt thou
Save this thy State, and him thy love, and all.
For we will, ere the fateful midnight comes,
Send such o'erwhelming forces to surround them
That they must needs surrender, and ere dawn
Shall be long leagues away. We will not shed
A drop of blood, my daughter.
Gycia.
Noble Zetho,
I thank you and these worthy senators.
I knew you would be merciful. I thank you,
And will obey in all things.
[Exit Gycia.
Bardanes, 1st Sen.
She is gone;
I durst not speak before her. Dost thou know,
Good Zetho, how infirm for war our State
After long peace has grown? I doubt if all
The men whom we might arm before the hour
Are matched in numbers with those murderous hordes;
While in experience of arms, in training,
In everything that makes a soldier strong,
We are no match for them. Our pmount duty
Is to the State alone, not to these pirates
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Who, woman-like, knows not our strength or weakness,
Nor cares, if only she might wring a promise
To spare her traitorous love. But we have arts
Which these barbarians know not, quenchless fires
Which in one moment can enwrap their stronghold
In one red ring of ruin. My counsel is,
That ere the hour of midnight comes we place
Around the palace walls on every side
Such store of fuel and oils and cunning drugs
As at one sign may leap a wall of fire
Impassable, and burn these hateful traitors
Like hornets in their nest.
Zetho.
Good brethren all,
Is this your will? Is it faith? Is it honour, think you,
To one who has given all, for us to break
Our solemn plighted word?
2nd Sen.
We will not break it;
We shed no drop of blood. The State demands it;
The safety of the State doth override
All other claim. The safety of the State
Is more than all!
All the Senators,
with uplifted arms.
Ay, Zetho, more than all!
Zetho.
Then, be it as you will. See, therefore, to it;
Take measures that your will be done, not mine.
Though I approve not, yet I may not set
My will against the universal voice.
Save us our Cherson. For the rest I care not,
Only I grieve to break our solemn promise
To Lamachus's child. Poor heart! poor heart!
| Gycia | |