University of Virginia Library

Scene IX.

—A room in Aglauria's house. Machaon is discovered sitting meditatively with some manuscripts before him.
Machaon.

'Tis strange what it costs to make people
attend. Now, I can consider this disease with as great

intensity as Tantalus his o'er-hanging fruit. To ensure
eager scrutiny, you must put an object out o' reach.
That's why men are so fond of religion. It ever eludes
them, and yet looks graspable. Ay, and there's some
natural hunger in the heart too. Thin-stomach'd
Tantalus and the bonnie golden gourd splitting open!
'Tis a pathetic sight! But here's the Augean stable
to cleanse, and the dung must be carried shoulder-wise.
My friends join the exploring party in search of the
river Alpheus, to turn into it. I am left to toil by
shovelfuls. If men had patience, and would not look
away from life, I could make their existence tolerable.

[Goes to a cupboard and looks for something, singing.]
[Draws out a child's hand for dissection.

Oh, I turn to my scalpel as a girl to her spindle! Here's
a bit of dissecting to help me recover my temper.
What delicate work is this! What fineness of texture.
I will keep the secret of it, though. The arts of introspection
are not for the crowd, nor the tunesome comment
of my throat on its follies.

[Sings.]
[Begins dissecting.
A pretty hand! The little Ægle's dead—
Hers was more dimpled. How she loved to pat
My cheeks! Of late she grew a little shy—
For childhood's calyx shrivels when 'tis time
For bright-leaved girlhood. Little Ægle's dead!
[Knocking.
Away my hand and scalpel!
[Puts them carefully away; enter Aglauria.

Ah, the briony! But you look, for all the world, like a
Mænad, mother, with those dangling trails about you.
These berries will be serviceable; yet I would not have
my gentle mother put in peril of her life when I covet
an extract. Since the rage has set in against these
flower-filleted lassies, one can scarce crown one's wine-
cup unsuspected.

Aglauria
[laying down the briony].

There, child, for
thy fancy! And I know not the peril I would shrink
from to please thee; so only thou wilt be wary thyself,
and not scuffle in the street for the rescue of these vile

foreign women. Does report say true, thou did'st stand
by some Mænad, whose flesh the crowd was about to
strip off with her ivy?

Machaon.
Ay. For the case grew semi-surgical.

Aglauria.
Well, if you're chief physician to that band,
Old Cleitophon will trouble you no more
With stories of his ague.

Machaon.
Then he'll die.

Aglauria.
Thine is unruly babble. Cephalus,
If thou had'st talked more softly of the gods,
Had doubtless chosen thee his son-in-law.
And the girl's dowry—

Machaon.
Had been recompense
More than a hundred Cleitophons for cure
Of their particular infirmities
Could e'er enrich me with. Oh, I will sigh,
“Doubtless we have offended heaven,” when next
Blight falls upon the land. There is no trick
Like sighing. Mother, in the mimicry
I will be perfect.

Aglauria.
Fie, you cunning boy;
'Twill be Callirrhoë you're sighing for;
But if you'd win her, never more be seen
Saving of Mænads.

Machaon.
Mother, do you know
It was Dione that I saved from death?

Aglauria.
You speak as she were mine—a wayward girl
Her father could not curb—a restless sprig.
And not thy sister. Mark, Machaon, this—
If thou befriend the witless thing, the crowd
Will turn on thee. Just let them have their way.
But do thou keep to the old gods, and soon
I'll deck thee a fair bride-bed.

Machaon.
So—so-ho!

Aglauria.
I'll get thy supper.

Machaon.
Let it be a quail;
And melons, mother, melons!
[Exit Aglauria.

Ay, she's fair, the strong, lithe, shapely girl, yet not for
me. And I marvel not the women of Lemnos slew
fathers, husbands, brothers, and put an end to population
till they could furnish their brats with heroic fatherhood.
Oh, we fail not in the stuff of motherhood; but the
heroes—the heroes! There's Emathion, a beautiful
greyhound at the heels of Circumstance. Yet his
sister dotes on him. It enrages me. I'll back to my
work.