University of Virginia Library

SECOND SCENE

A later hour of the same night as in the first scene. A feast in the palace of CREON.

About the feast-table are CREON, HERAKLES, AMPHITRYON, ALCMENA, MEGARA, IOLAUS, and other men and women of noble Theban families. A HERALD stands behind the King's chair. The feast is served by slaves and the door guarded by soldiers.

CREON
to the HERALD
The feast is ended. Call for silence!

The HERALD
Silence!
Silence! The King will speak!

There is silence. Then is heard a murmur as of a great throng outside the palace. A moment's pause.
CREON
Hearken! ..... To-night
There is a rumour in my porticoes
Of multitudes. It is my people. I
Have called them, and this hour would straitly speak
With them and you. I have not lightly caused
Assemblage of yourselves and all the sons
Of Cadmus, for with news of great concern
To all my people am I charged to-night.
To the guards
Therefore set open wide the doors and bid
My Thebans enter! I have words to say
And deeds to do that must not longer wait.

The doors are thrown open and the people enter without confusion. Gradually the entire hall is completely filled. When they are all entered and silence is reëstablished,
CREON
without rising; in an even, clear, quiet voice
Children of Cadmus—Thebans—Citizens—
My people!—Hear me for your own concern!
And rest assured I treat to-night with you
No less a matter than the commonwealth.
Yet I beseech you to be patient with me
Also for some small business of my own—
Some phrases of a life's apology
That I've matured with life itself for you,
And now at last have ordered and prepared—
Briefly, at least, and cheerfully!—to suit
Your understanding—and my own as well!
A moment's pause.
I am your King; and I am old—and wise!
For wisdom—when the latter end of life
Becomes indeed a luminous and large
Tranquillity, as of some afternoon
Of Autumn and calm weather by the sea—
Inures at last—after so many years! .....
At least there is a fine unfettered sense
Of liberality which leads me on
To say that I am wise—and you will judge
And disapprove me if you must! You may
Believe me that I know what must be done
While there is hope and Fortune's face is toward;—
And I can now afford your censure! Yes,
I can afford at last expensive things
Which cost a man the kingdoms of the world
And all their glory! I have lived my life;
And there is nothing now can make it worth
My while to shirk by any cant or creed,
Enthusiasm or expectancy,
Silence or sentiment, the free, extreme
Analysis, the unrelenting, clear,
Calm vision of a disenchanted mind.
You cannot bribe me now by any threat
Or ruin to my life's high edifice,
Or any dazzled prospect of ambition—
Hope or desire that it may one day grow
Statelier and all my dreams come true of it!—
To keep the old, pathetic, pitiable
Conspiracy of silence and pretence
That barely saves the faith on which you build!
I know that you must build while there is hope
Of profit, while the Bride is beautiful,
While Fortune's prize, in whatsoever coin
The world receives, inflames you to the task;
And while you build you cannot help but say
Your architecture is the noblest art—
The only art that life can labour at!
You see the torch of life held high and bright
Over my disillusion, and your hearts
Are sad for me—but I rejoice with you!
For I have built—and care not very much
What happens! I am patient of all fools
Who leave the why unasked; and I am mild
With knaves, who teach the bawdy, blatant beast
Pious and pleasant ways,—for I am old
And unimpassioned and contemplative.
I think, despite these sceptical strange words,
You will respect me,—for I am your King,
And I have proved myself among you all
An architect. Therefore you will not say,
“This is the voice of failure!”—yet I know
That you will find some other things to say
Not half so true! For when a man is old,
He knows, at least, how utterly himself
Has failed! But say what things of me you will—
And be assured I sympathize! Indeed,
A voice like mine is no-wise terrible,
As might be the tremendous voice of truth,
Should it find speech that you could understand!
Yet it may vex and dreadfully distress
Reflective men—if such indeed there be
Among you all—and therefore be assured
I sympathize!
A moment's pause.
And so I give you thanks .....
And take my leave. I think you almost guess
The public business which is your concern—
And mine, since I concern the state and you.
Briefly 't is mete that I advise you of it:
I am your King—and will be so no more!
Take leave of me, my people! for at last
I have divined a man more apt than I
To wage your wars and guide your policies.—
A moment's pause. The King rises. All those seated at table follow his example.
To him, Children of Cadmus, O my people,
I yield your government, as I bequeath,
When I am dead, my crown and realm to him!
His praise is in your hearts; and by my will,
And with your leave and loving welcome, he
Shall be your Lord and govern in my place,
Who slew Erginus and delivered Thebes—
My grandsons' father and in love my son—
Herakles!

The HERALD
Hail! All hail to Herakles!

A storm of enthusiasm breaks out among the people. When it has subsided and quiet is restored, all eyes turn to HERAKLES. A moment of silence. Then he begins to speak, finding his words with excitement and difficulty.
HERAKLES
Children of Cadmus!—You have heard the King—
You know his will—but mine you shall not know
Till all is known and there is Justice in me! .....
Justice—and Truth! ..... Nothing is yet resolved—
Nothing! ..... And who can tell what Truth shall be?
The adventurer departs; the tidal drift
Clutches his keel; his eyes are dazed and dark;
Strange are his dreams;—and the discovery
Is far! ..... But should I find myself, be sure
That I will be a guide unto you all! .....
A moment's pause.
I'll say no more!—Nothing is yet resolved .....

A moment of silence. At last the people applaud. Then, at a sign from the King, the doors are again thrown open and the citizens pass out. The King remains standing after they are gone. MEGARA, ALCMENA, AMPHITRYON, IOLAUS and the other guests at the feast surround HERAKLES, pouring forth congratulations and applause. HERAKLES, deeply moved, withdraws violently from the embraces of his family and the acclamations of his friends and, turning toward the King, breaks silence with profound passion.
HERAKLES
Is this your wisdom, Sire? and is it wise,
Lightly, and thus with calm complacency,
Now to believe that I, that Herakles
Should hold himself so cheaply as your price?
How have you come to think me, whom you love
And praise, so vain a thing and spiritless,
That I, like any rash, rapacious man,
Should seize this brief preferment and renown
And block with brilliant insufficiencies
The fair-way of ambition?—By the Gods,
How pitiable a thing is man's regard!
Since you, who count yourself matured in truth,
Can guess no nobler destiny for man
Than all his life to be as you have been,
Public and proud, constrained and crafty-wise,
As fortune served and chance was bountiful:—
Himself, the while, illiberal and unknown,
Captive and undelivered and deceived!
Turning to the others
And you! I marvel who it is you name,
With tears and praise and passion, Herakles!
By God! What gives you leave to think of me
So meanly, and rejoice to see me sold
Like any common man for a small thing?
Have I not loved you all, incessantly
Loved you and lived with you?—yet in despite
Of all love's witness and the test of time
You dare to hold me in so little honour
That you have thought me apt to be content
In these safe human mediocrities—
That you have deemed my hope so temperate,
For what I am, as fortune and renown
Or all the world's casual supremacies!
For my whole life long, with my whole heart's love,
I have been with you—and you have not known me!

ALCMENA
What ails you, child? ..... My child! I love you, know you—
You are my son!

HERAKLES
My self is yet unborn,
Which was not when your womb conceived and bore!

AMPHITRYON
What rage is this? Implore the King's forgiveness!
Pray to the Gods who have shown favour to you!

HERAKLES
turning to the King
Sire, I will not serve the Gods or you!
Sire, I will not rule by grace of God
Or by your grace! I will be Lord of none,
And thus unto myself be Lord and Law!—
No longer speaking directly to the King
You think to bribe and browbeat Herakles,
Force his desire and cheat his hope:—at last
Learn from my lips that I will not be less
In hope or longing than a man must be!
I, with the soul's immortal thirst to slake,
How shall I down into the shallow stream
Where beasts and many men have drunk together
And left foul waters strangled in their course?
Nay, by this cup I am not comforted,
I am not stayed!—Rather, I swear to you
Thirst shall consume me unappeased until
I fill my pitcher at the living source,
The secret, spiritual springs that rise,
Radiant and crystalline in the deep light,
Far on the utmost heights unvisited!
You know me not—and scarce have I begun
To know myself! Yet this at least I know:
The life-lust and the florid animal
Which laughs and longs, is pleasured and distressed—
The heart that feels and feigns, that faints and dreams,
That sorrows and is glad—the facile brain
That schemes and lies and is alert to seize
Success and is ambitious of no more
Than serviceable ingenuity
Can aptly compass—that supremely serves
To methodize the waste of the world's work
To profitable order and endow
Life's labour with a seeming worth and end—
These are not I!

CREON
Your pardon!—and be sure
I have no angered heart nor outraged pride
To vex you with!—I pray you answer me
One idle question:—after all, what else
Is there of you save life and heart and brain?
You are what feels and thinks and is. What else
Is Herakles?—are you?

HERAKLES
I am what knows!
I am myself, that knows—and shall be known! .....