University of Virginia Library

NYDIA A TRAGIC PLAY

CHARACTERS

• Glaucus: An Athenian Gentleman
• Arbaces: An Egyptian Priest of Isis
• Calenus: A Priest of Isis
• Apaecides: A Neophyte Priest of Isis
• Burbo: A Retired Gladiator, now a Publican
• Clodius: A Friend of Glaucus
• Sallust: A Roman Gentleman
• Dudas: A Roman Fop
• Praetor Roman Officer of the Court
• Quaestor Roman Officer of the Court
• Aedile Roman Officer of the Court
• Nuntius Roman Officer of the Court
• Nydon: A Gladiator
• Scoros: A Slave of Ione
• Dromo: A Slave of Arbaces
• Ione: A Wealthy Greek, Beloved of Glaucus
• Nydia: Blind Greek Slave, in love with Glaucus
• Noblemen, Lictors, Gladiators, Attendants, Slaves, Citizens, et cetera

Scene: Pompeii

Time: A.D. 79. The Month of August in the First Year of the Reign of Titus

ACT I

Scene: the Harbor of Pompeii
Enter Clodius and Sallust meeting
Clodius:
Hail to you, Sallust! You have favored Rome
More than we liked. What kept you there?

Sallust:
I stayed
To see the Emperor installed. A sight
To make a native of this little place
Scarce breathe for wonder. Have you aught that's new?

Clodius:
Here in Pompeii?

Sallust:
Yes.

Clodius:
Not much; unless
You call our frequent earthquake something new.

Sallust:
Moving, at least.

Clodius:
It will amuse you, Sallust,
At the next shake, to see our people run,
Like frightened sheep, to the Egyptian fane
Of Goddess Isis. Our poor Latin gods
Are out of fashion; deemed unskilled to cure
This earth's grim cholics.

Sallust:
Is Arbaces here?

Clodius:
A seeming fixture. You must see his ward,
The fair Ione. You have asked for news:
Here is a novelty, and wonder too,—
This young Greek damsel with her Psyche face,
Diana's virtue, and proud Juno's port.

Sallust:
What, Clodius, what! are you in love at last?

Clodius:
And all Pompeii with me. Not to skip
Glaucus, my rich Athenian friend. No, no;
I am no rival to his wealth, his grace,
His cultured mind and splendid equipage:
And he is wild about her.

Sallust:
Did you say
She is Arbaces' ward? I like not that.

Clodius:
Nor I, Nor any one that cares for her,
Nor, chiefly, Glaucus. Hence his fiery zeal
To free her from the dark Egyptian's power.

Sallust:
The swarthy conjurer! how I hate a man
That makes your skin creep when he speaks to you!

[Clodius:
If that were all!—By Jupiter, I think,
In that man's heart is wickedness enough
Richly to furnish and endow a hell
That would make Pluto jealous.

Enter Dudas
Dudas:
Hail!—hail!—hail!—
If I could be myself, I'd be more mannered!—
Oh! my poor nerves!—I have seen such a sight!

Sallust:
Indeed!

Dudas:
Yes; two four-footed gladiators.

Clodius:
Four-footed men!

Dudas:
I'll bet a pound of gold,
I said not men. Are you a taker?

Clodius:
Pshaw!
But are not gladiators men?

Dudas:
Not always.
For example: a lion and a tiger,
Fresh from the desert's and the jungle's depths,—
Insane with rage, death in their very looks;
What do you think of them as gladiators?

Clodius:
As somewhat better than the human brutes.

Sallust:
But what had you to do with them?

Dudas:
You know,
I am near-sighted; and I chanced to venture
A step too near the lion's cage. By Jove!
Ere you could wink, his furious fore-claw
Was buried in my toga; and the beast
Was in the act of gathering me in,
All to himself, just as a cat a mouse,
When Pansa's bondman thrust a burning torch
Full in the monster's yellow eyes. Hercules!
'Twas a sensation! I am on my way,
To buy that bondman's freedom.

Clodius:
Only quits.
But the poor lion lost a meal. Have you
No feeling for him?

Dudas:
Just this much. I would
That I might see another fill my place,—
Some criminal or Christian; but to see
How I had fared, had lion had his way.

Sallust:
But that is hopeless at the coming sports.
There's no obliging murderer in view:
Nor make the Christians sacrilegious mouths,
As once they did, even at the cow-faced Isis.

Clodius:
Dudas, oblige us; as an amateur,
In Nero's way, pray try another bout
With your familiar lion. Ha, my man!
You owe a breakfast to him. Come, pay up!

Dudas:
If you and Sallust will attend the feast,
I shall be glad to have the mighty cat
Purring about our table. Fare you well!
I must to Pansa.

(Exit)
Clodius:
And to Glaucus I.]

Sallust:
Ha! who comes here? I shall take flight myself.
Cross your forefingers! dread his evil eye,
As an infection!

Clodius:
Nay, retreat were best.

Exeunt severally
Enter Arbaces and Calenus, accompanied
Arbaces:
Apaecides is discontented then?

Calenus:
Yes, more than that.

Arbaces:
As how?

Calenus:
He swears outright
To quit the priesthood.

Arbaces:
Dare he? This appears
To be more grave. That weak boy, to rebel
Against my teachings! I must gather him
Within the veil of Isis: there to live,
Loyal till death; or—Well, you know how soon
Death comes to the unfaithful!

Calenus:
'Twas a step
In that direction brought these humors forth.
The other day, I showed our neophite
How I made Isis' eyeballs roll and glare,
With cranks and levers and my naphtha lamps:
That seemed to horrify him. When I took
My long brass trumpet up, and roared amain,
Through Isis' inner lips, some gibberish,
To show how neatly works the oracle—
That is my pride, for I invented it—
He dashed me and my trumpet to the ground,
And half drew out his stylus, in a rage
That made me tremble for my life.

Arbaces:
So, so!
This must be looked to. For his sister's sake
I can bear much from him; but not too much—
Not to the loss of Isis, and her sway
Above these Romans.

Calenus:
No, by Jupiter—
Forgive me Isis, for that pagan oath!—
Else where would go our temple's revenues,
And my small scrapings?

Arbaces:
Miserable miser!
Wealth is a means, that only.

Calenus:
And a power.

Arbaces:
Over the brainless. Mark you, who comes here—
Our modern Alcibiades—this fop
Of fickle Athens, with his haughty sweetness,
His mien of grandeur; as though he disdains
The mere barbarians whom he condescends
To honor with his presence. Ach! my bird,
If I should ever get you in my claws,
I'd send your fine plumes flying! See the slaves—
Degenerate Romans—cowering at his glance,
And worshipping each footstep!

Calenus:
For his wealth.

Arbaces:
Wealth! Something far more potent, silly man;
The fellow is the fashion. And this thing
Of silks and jewels, and presumptuous airs,
Dares to aspire to my Ione's love!
One of my brood, my very nestling she—
A peacock mate with eagles!

Enter Glaucus and Clodius, accompanied by nobles, freedmen, slaves
Glaucus:
Mark, Clodius!
Look at our everyday, yet ever-new,
Wonder of wonders, here, before our eyes,
With all its azure depths and starry waves;
As though the happy synod had dropped down
Into our bay a portion of their heaven,
To cheer the spirits of ungrateful men.
Look, friends, I pray! Can mortals, upon earth,
Stand nearer heaven than we are now?—Look, look!

Clodius:
A happy heart is ever close to heaven.
My Glaucus, let me share your joy. What hap
Uplifts you thus?

Glaucus:
The happiest of haps:
Surely the gods have fallen in love with me.
A secret, Clodius, which must so remain,
Until I give it to the world.

Clodius
I guess it.
The fair Ione—

Glaucus:
Yes, yes, conjurer!
How could you know that which I hardly hoped?
'Tis so indeed; and I have walked the air,
And felt Elysian breezes on my cheeks
Since I first heard—Nay, she said nought in words:
She only slid her little dove-like hand
Into my own; and, with her pleading eyes,
Looked truth and faith out of my eager heart,
And was therewith content.

Clodius:
The day is fixed
When we must lose you then?

Glaucus:
All time stood fixed
When we exchanged our troth. Futurity
Limps, like a slave, beside love's chariot.
All things, between themselves, belong to those
Who truly love. The world may rage outside,
And shake Love's throne, but cannot overthrow
Him or his loyal subjects.

Clodius:
Recollect,
Arbaces is her guardian.

Glaucus:
But in name.
A year ago his tutelage expired
By law's decree, her father's testament,
And the insistence of Apaecides—
Her brother, and a priest of Isis too,
But seemingly not over-full of trust
In guardian Arbaces.

Clodius:
Wise young man!

Arbaces advances. Clodius makes the sign against the evil eye
Arbaces:
You speak of me.

Glaucus:
Yes, truly; but what told you,—
A tickling nostril, or a burning ear?

Arbaces:
A goddess' whisper.

Glaucus:
Isis, woman-like,
Listens to gossip then.

Arbaces:
Our butterfly
Still flaunts his reckless Attic wit.

Glaucus:
Oh, yes!
Even as the laboring beetle of old Nile
Rolls his dark ball before him.

Arbaces:
Scoff not, man,
At things above your knowledge.

Glaucus:
Or beneath.

Arbaces:
Beneath a Greek! 'twere low enough indeed!

Glaucus:
Just low enough to touch the highest flight
Of an Egyptian's spirit.

Arbaces:
Fie! I'll go
To Isis' temple, and implore her grace
To pardon you.

Glaucus:
To Isis' temple, hah!
'Tis but four lustra since the Senate's voice
Decreed that not a temple to your goddess
Should stand in Italy.

Arbaces:
I said not temple—
Not consecrated temple: house, or hovel,
Or whatsoever shields her sacred head.
That sacrilegious Senate! Woe to it!
Woe to this land, when Isis scourges it!
And, most of all, woe to this very spot!
See, where earth's goddess lifts her threatening hand
In yonder mountain. Dead, inert, you say,
Since history began. O man, with sight
Short as his life, what are unwritten ages
To the immortals? Isis' day will come,
When, on this ancient lava where you stand—
Once more a molten sea in gales of fire—
You'll grind your knees for mercy, but in vain!

(Exit)
(Nydia sings within
Glaucus:
Prophet of evil! A foreboding tongue
Never wants ears to hear and quail at it:
And yet our Strabo said almost as much.
What think you, Clodius, will Veseveus—
Our fruitful mountain, with its cup of vines,
And flowery garlands—ever fill that cup
With stygian flames; and, from its wounded sides,
Pour burning blood upon our shrinking heads?

Enter Nydia listening to Glaucus
Clodius:
As our poor slandered hill has lived in peace
With us and all the world, since history
Was mere tradition, it will scarce begin
So wild a life within our time.

Glaucus:
Perhaps—
(Nydia advances, and touches him)
Well, maiden?

Nydia:
'Tis the voice of Glaucus!

Glaucus:
Aye.

Nydia:
Then a new heaven is spread above my head;
And stronger gods, and gods more merciful,
Rule o'er the world. My lord, when came you here?

Glaucus:
Two days ago.

Nydia:
And I not know of it!—
Not feel it in my heart! But then—ah me!—
I was in prison.

Glaucus:
How!

Nydia:
But others hear.

(Glaucus motions to Clodius and others, who retire)
Glaucus:
We are alone. In prison?

Nydia:
Worse, far worse;
If hell be worse than prison. Dare I speak?
Repeat one word I say, and worse than death,
Will be my portion. Ha! how dull I am! (Laughing)

As though I'd not be ready for my death,
When Glaucus could betray me. I have been
Shut in Arbaces' house.

Glaucus:
Poor child!

Nydia:
Fie, Glaucus!
There may be dust upon me, but no stain.

Glaucus:
Thanks, Pallas!

Nydia:
Let me kiss your hand for that.
(Kisses his hand)
I'd not be here, to tell you of my fall,
If that great bay could rock my shame to sleep.
That refuge is mine always.

Glaucus:
Were you there
Against your will?

Nydia:
My will! What is my will?
What is a slave's will but obedience?
Why, I was beaten there; dragged there in bonds;
With ever that gross threat held over me,
To make me something nameless, if I dared
Avoid my fate. Once there, I sang,—such songs,
So outward beautiful, so foul within!—
Have you a sister, Glaucus?

Glaucus:
Yea, in heaven.

Nydia:
Then you can understand. I thank the gods
That I am blind sometimes: I could not see;
But all my other senses were appalled
At the infernal orgies that went on,—
The roars of drunken laughter, and the shrieks
Of frantic women; and the rites obscene
Offered to Isis, sick with burning blood,
And torturing blows, and howls of anguish.

Glaucus:
You?
What part was yours?

Nydia:
I only sang, and sang,
Perched above all, secure but terrified,
Like a poor linnet in a thunderstorm.

Glaucus:
This is the outcome of Arbaces' zeal
For Isis then?

Nydia:
Name not that dreadful man:
It holds me spellbound.

Glaucus:
Go not there again;
I shall devise a plan for your release.

Nydia:

Glaucus:
But we have had our sorrows. One may see
The earthquake's ravages on every hand,
In prostrate walls. Even in my solid house,
The statues were cast down, the frescoes cracked,
And conduits dried.

Nydia:
Oh! it was droll indeed,
To feel the pavement slide beneath one's feet,
The columns turning, as if they would dance
A measure to the thunders under ground—
Hell's music—louder than a thousand cars
Rolling at speed along a stony road.
It made me laugh.

Glaucus:
Laugh, Nydia!

Nydia:
Yes, laugh.
The miserable have nought to dread, like those
Who love their lives, and therefore shriek with fear
At peril to their comfort.

Glaucus:
Know you, child,
What is the Greek name for this flower?

Nydia:
For what?

Glaucus:
The violet.

Nydia:
Oh yes; ion 'tis called
In my Thessalian land.

Glaucus:
Thence comes Ione.
Know you a lady of that name?

Nydia:
You mean,
The rich Greek damsel of Neapolis.
Yes; she has often taken flowers from me.

Glaucus:
Bear all these violets to her.

Nydia:
From you?

Glaucus:
Yes.

Nydia:
I would rather cast them in the sea,
A sacrifice to Neptune.

Glaucus:
But my days
Of voyaging are over for a space.
Take her the flowers.

Nydia:
I shall obey, my lord.
But—Glaucus!—

Glaucus:
Nydia?

Nydia:
You—forget my pay:
Remember Burbo's stick.

Glaucus:
The gods forbid!

(Gives her money)
Nydia:
Glaucus—

Glaucus:
My child?

Nydia:
Another time—farewell!

(Exit hurriedly)
Clodius:
What ails that girl?

Glaucus:
Her nature. She rebels
Against her life of servitude. She dreams
Of something better in the gift of fate
Than Burbo's mercy. Hapless, helpless child!
Think you the brute would sell her?

Clodius:
Without doubt.
A sightless slave is but poor property.—
Look, Glaucus, look!

Glaucus:
I saw, before you spoke,
And felt with all my senses.

Clodius:
Venus speed you!

(Retires)
Enter Ione, attended. Glaucus meets her
Glaucus:
Ione!

Ione:
Glaucus!

Glaucus:
Is there more to say,
Than we can gather from each other's eyes?
Oh, but to look on you, to feel you near,
To know the same world holds us both, to breathe
The air that warms itself against your cheek;
To crown that rapture with the dizzy thought
Of what to each the other is; of how
The coming days—happy and brief enough—
Will bring us closer; till possession crown
Our foreheads with one glory; that is joy
To make a man impatient of the thought
Of Jove's elysium, in a world so fair!

Ione:
I tremble at your raptures. Recollect,
Your idol is but clay, like all the rest:
Like all the rest, to clay she must return.
I trust the fact of my mortality
May not be made too obvious to you,
By any failings of my nature, ere
My sepulchre is open, to receive
My faults and me together.

Glaucus:
Dear, Ione,
What is this cloud upon your spirit? Look,
How fair the world is that encircles us,
How bright the heaven above!

Ione:
Too fair, perhaps,
To be enduring: night must follow day.
Since I arose—I cannot tell you why—
A weight, that seems like a foreshadowed ill,
Has lain upon my spirit. For relief,
Thus early to the temple of our goddess,
Pallas, I went with votive offerings.
Alas! the pure divinity's white shrine,
And every omen of my sacrifice,
Seemed but to bring me nearer to the truth
Of my foreboding, that for me—for us—
There hangs above us, in yon lucid heaven,
Disaster terrible, and soon to fall.

Glaucus:
My lovely soothsayer, you must have heard
Arbaces' oracles.

Ione:
(Starting)
Arbaces!

Glaucus:
Nay;
Why do you tremble, love?

Ione:
I know not why.
His name went through me like a pang; and brought
The cloud upon me, darker than before.
[My faithful guardian, father of my childhood,
Teacher, protector, chosen delegate
Of my own father's solemn testament,
To represent him in all things to me!
And well has he fulfilled the trust. Indeed]
Fancy betrays me. I am weak enough—
Almost enough—for your contempt.

Glaucus:
For mine!
Ione, when you know less reverence
From me than I accord the sacred gods,
Then I shall not be Glaucus, and your heart
May hold me as a stranger.

Ione:
See, 'tis gone!
Your sunny eyes have scattered every cloud,
Henceforth you shall not see these gloomy moods
In her whose duty 'tis to make your life
As bright as that which you bestow on me.

Glaucus:
My darling, be yourself, and only that,
To be my happiness. I am content,
Henceforth, to call all virtues upon earth
Ione only.

Nydia screams within
Ione:
Glaucus!—

Enter Nydia running, pursued by Burbo, Nydon and gladiators
Nydia:
Glaucus!—

(She falls at Glaucus' feet)
Burbo:
(Raising his stick over Nydia)
Slave,
I'll teach you to obey when I command!
Thank you, my lord, for catching her.

Glaucus hurls Burbo aside
Glaucus:
Back, beast!
Or you'll not thank me much for catching you.

1st Glad:
Go take her, Burbo: she's your slave.

Burbo:
Not I.
He has an arm like Vulcan's.

Glaucus:
Are you, men
Or but a pack of savage wolves, to run
This poor doe to her death? Have courage, child!
I know no scorn with which to brand the wretch
Who lifts his hand against his mother's sex.
You, Nydon? I thought better of you.

Nydon:
No;
I ran to save her. I am slow of foot:
My business is to stand. Had he but struck her,
I'd made his head acquainted with the stones.

Glaucus:
What means all this?

Burbo:
She's willful, disobedient,
A very rebel.

Nydon:
Yes, she's everything
But bad, as you would make her.

Ione:
Glaucus, pray,
Buy the poor girl.

Nydia:
Whose voice is that?

Ione:
Mine, child,—
Ione of Neapolis.

Nydia:
(Aside)
Oh, gods!
My punishment begins! (Aloud)
Let me go back.
I'll be obedient, master.

Glaucus:
Nay, not so.

Burbo:
I do not want you. Take her if you will,
My lord; her temper is too much for me.
Twenty poor aureas. That's but half her worth.
She sings and dances—when she has a mind to—
Knows all about her plants and flowers; can run—
Phew!—you saw how. She has a little fault:
She's somewhat blind.

Glaucus writes on his tablets
Nydon:
Somewhat, you thief! stone blind.

Glaucus:
Take this to Sporus, at my house, and he
Will pay her price.

(Gives tablets to Burbo. Exit Burbo)
Nydia:
Then I am yours?

Glaucus:
Yes, mine.

Nydia:
Hear, people of Pompeii, hear! I am
The slave of Glaucus—Yea, his very slave—
And should he beat me, let no one prevent;
For then I shall deserve it.

Ione:
Nydia!—

Glaucus:
This would be droll, were it not pitiful:
Enter Arbaces behind, observing them
She has known nought but scourgings. Nydia,
It is not fit that you should be my slave.
My dear Ione, take the girl from me.

Ione:
Most willingly.

Nydia:
(Aside)
His “dear Ione!” No!
I'll go where I belong. I have been bought
And sold, but never given away before.
I cannot be her slave.

Ione:
You shall not be:
I set you free. Go where you will.

Nydia:
Oh, gods!
I am a woman!

Glaucus:
More, a citizen.

Nydia:
A citizen of Rome!

Ione:
My equal, child.

Nydia:
Oh no, oh no! a thousand times your slave;
If gratitude be bondage to the just.
You wish this, Glaucus?

Glaucus:
Yes, 'tis best for you.

Nydia:
Doubtless; I am a damsel. Mistress, come.
I shall be faithful, if no more.

Arbaces:
(Advancing)
Ione,
What means this comedy, and in the streets—
The public streets?

Ione:
I thank the gracious gods,
Beneath the open eye of heaven! Let man
Be silent when the gods approve.

Arbaces:
Fine words!
But as a lady, as my ward—

Glaucus:
Your ward!
Like your belated race, you still forget
All but the past. Awake! look round you, man!
This is an age when poverty has rights
That wealth must recognize; or banded want
Will know the reason why. 'Twas at your door:
Remember Spartacus!

Arbaces:
(Laughing)
Ha! ha! well said,
Opulent Glaucus!

Glaucus:
I have not usurped
Heaven's gifts to man—to all mankind alike—
Air, earth, light, water, which you hold in fee
Against your weaker brother, who may starve
With nature 's bounties in his very sight.
This I call usurpation, patent wrong.

Arbaces:
Inborn republican! Cannot your wealth
Purchase your own opinions? You are mad,
To talk rebellion in the public ear.

Glaucus:
Your former ward—fresh from a sacrifice
At Pallas' shrine—performs a duty meet,
To one oppressed by fortune and by man—
What if in public, if the deed were right?—
And you in public, like a pedagogue,
Rebuke her! Much I marvel if her act,
Or your rebuke, be the more blameworthy
For its publicity.

Arbaces:
(Laughing)
Ha! ha! Ione,
You found a slave and champion as well.

Glaucus:
Dare not—

Ione:
I pray you, Glaucus.

Glaucus:
Pardon me:
This is unseemly. No one better knows
My fault than I.

Arbaces:
That's full confession, Greek.
We may resume our argument, perhaps,
Some other time—some other time—

(Exit slowly)
Nydia:
Oh! dread,
Dread that man's purpose!

Glaucus:
I dread nothing, girl,
Made in our common likeness. He is man,
And nothing more. Nothing I dread so much
As the faint cloud that gathered on your brow.

Ione:
To hide your lightnings. That is passed—farewell!

Curtain as the characters move to depart

ACT II

Scene: House of Ione
Ione and Nydia discovered. Ione embroidering; Nydia winding silks
Ione:
I pray you, Nydia, lay your work aside:
My eyes are wearied with these brilliant dyes.

Nydia:
I wish mine were. Mistress—

Ione:
Call me not that:
Call me Ione. Glaucus does not like
That slavish word.

Nydia:
(Aside)
How readily his name
Comes to her lips; and how she holds it there,
And kisses it—ah, me!

Ione:
What would you say?

Nydia:
I wonder often what it is to see.
What is it you call light? and how do you
Know of a thing when 'tis so far away!
And what is beauty?

Ione:
You bewilder me.
With your demands, child. You can never know
Aught of a sense which you do not possess.
Were you born blind?

Nydia:
They said so. Yes, the man
Who called himself my father—could he be,
To sell me like a faulty sheep?—he told
The bustling trader that I never saw:
Therefore he sold me.

Ione:
It was infamous.

Nydia:
Perhaps not. I am almost useless, lady.
I was a burden, and he very poor.
Why do you keep me?

Ione:
Nydia, Nydia, cease!
Or you will have me weeping.

Nydia:
Zeus, forbid!

Ione:
I love you, Nydia: is not that enough,
Reason enough, to make me cherish you?

Nydia:
Ay, that I understand, without my eyes.
Love, love! is not that something like to sight?
I often think it is another sense.

Ione:
It is the vision of the gods. Right, girl!
Love is another sense.

Nydia:
Or why should I—
Blind as I am—love you, love Glaucus? hate—
Enter Arbaces behind, unobserved
Oh! how I hate!—one person, with a fire
Almost as hot as love is—Hist! I hear
An evil footstep.

Arbaces:
(Advancing)
It is only mine.

Nydia:
(Aside. She shrinks apart)
Cat, treacherous cat!

Ione:
Arbaces, when you come
Into my house, I pray you, that, henceforth,
You have yourself announced. Remember, too,
I am a child no longer.

Arbaces:
Sad am I
At all these changes. 'Twas but yesterday—
So seems it in the hurried flight of time—
I held you in my arms, or taught your feet
Their first few steps. You and Apaecides
Will ever seem my children.

Ione:
Pardon me:
My wish was not to wound you.

Arbaces:
Dear Ione,
Why have you lost your confidence in me?

Ione:
But have I?

Arbaces:
Yes; witness your new-made friend,
This wandering Greek. Witness your handmaid there,
A public flower-girl, a common slave,
Likewise his gift, now your companion. These,
These unwise acts, were all, all contrary
To my advice.

Ione:
Come hither, Nydia.
Lay your cheek close to mine; twine both your arms
About my neck; now kiss me on the mouth,
Free citizen of Rome. Mark it, my lord;
Thus, thus, I think of her.

(Kisses Nydia)
Arbaces:
A fond mistake.

Ione:
Grant that as possible. Were she not pure—
Yea, pure as I am—would she dare do that?
You may be deep in all the ways of man,
But, ah! you know not woman.

Arbaces:
Haply so.
(Aside)
Let these two kittens play: why should I care?
(Aloud)
The other matter is more serious.
It is the common tattle of the town
That Glaucus, an Athenian fop, a man—

Ione:
Beware!

Arbaces:
Who owes the little fame he has
To his successes with your sex, is here
Daily, or, as he boasts before the world,
Whene'er he pleases, or has idle time.

Nydia:
That is a lie!

Arbaces:
I do not say this thing
Of my own knowledge. Is it scandal?

Ione:
Which—
His coming, or his boast?

Arbaces:
Say both.

Ione:
Since when
Took I companions as the world prescribed?
You know the freedom of a woman's life
In Greece, my country, where each woman stands
As guardian of her honor. There no bars
Shut up her virtue, at a man's behest,
As in your Egypt. As for Glaucus—

Arbaces:
Well?

Ione:
He is most welcome to my house and me
At any seemly hour. That much is truth.
That he has ever boasted of my favor,
In any manner to discredit me,
Is not alone untrue, but, more than false,
Impossible.

Arbaces:
But why?

Ione:
We are betrothed.

Nydia:
(Aside)
Ah me!

Arbaces:
Betrothed!

Ione:
Betrothed. What follows then?
Think you that he would cast the slightest shade
Upon the woman that will be his wife?

Arbaces:
Think! I am mad; I cannot think. Ye gods!
Have all my hopes come to this sorry end?
Ione, are you sane?

Ione:
Quite sane, I think:
And till the madness you confess be passed,
Let us avoid this subject.

Arbaces:
Wonderful!
My child, my pupil, casts me to the wind;
Does not consult me, does not ask consent
Of me, her guardian, to the gravest step
Woman can take!

Ione:
I have a monitor,
Here, in my bosom; and when that says yea,
All the world's no were nothing.

Arbaces:
(Aside)
Shall I hold
This hell, that burns within me, still; or launch
Its fires upon her wayward head? Be calm:
Patience is power. (Aloud)
Ione, one last word.
Your dying father, my dear friend—O would
That love descended by inheritance!—
Your father left a letter in my hands,
Addressed to you, with charge that you should read,
When you attained a marriageable age,
The letter in my presence.

Ione:
That is strange.

Arbaces:
It is his last, most sacred testament.
Now, as your acts bespeak you of that age,
'Tis time that you should read it.

Ione:
Give it me.
My father's wishes are supreme commands,
Within the bounds of reason.

Arbaces:
Saving clause!
Differing somewhat from blind obedience,
And what the Romans here call piety.

Ione:
Truly; but would you have the unreasoning dead
Judge for the quick; when, if the dead could rise,
To hear the cause, his judgment might agree
With living reasoners?

Arbaces:
Logic, if not love:
More wise than loving.

Ione:
Pray, no more of this.
Give me the letter.

Nydia listens eagerly to what follows
Arbaces:
That I cannot do.
'Tis locked within a coffer of great weight,
With other things, also your heritage.
I was forbidden to unclose the chest—
Strictly forbidden. My duty ends with this,
The proffer of this key. (Gives her a key)


Ione:
But of the chest?

Arbaces:
'Tis at my house, resting in holy ward
Under the eye of Isis.

Ione:
Must I go
Thither to find it?

Arbaces:
Not unless you wish;
Or choose to disregard your father's will.
This thing is sure; it will not come to you;
For, by your father's lips, I was enjoined
That you should ope the coffer only there,
And only in my presence.

Nydia:
(Steals to her, and whispers)
Do not go.

Ione:
(Apart to her)
Why not?

Nydia:
I know not; only do not go.

Ione:
But child, I must. 'Twere as though I refused
To hear my father speak. What time, my lord,
Will suit your pleasure?

Arbaces:
Nay; your pleasure's mine.
Say then tonight. 'Tis early yet. I know,
You cannot read your father's words too soon,
As matters stand with you.

Ione:
Well, then, tonight.
Have entertainment for my slaves.

Arbaces:
I trust,
You will not bring an army to a house
That's peaceful as a temple.

Ione:
Fear not that.

Arbaces:
I shall await you in my study. Now,
Farewell! I hope no lingering distrust
Dwells in that pretty head, to banish thence
Your old familiar guardian.

Ione:
Can you ask,
With your own conscience to reply for me?

Arbaces:
(Aside)
Triumphant! Lady, you shall groan for this,
This torture of my heart! (Aloud)
Farewell, farewell!

(Exit)
Enter Apaecides, moodily
Ione:
My own dear brother! (Embraces him)


Apaecides:
Sister! who went hence?

Ione:
Only Arbaces.

Apaecides:
Hah! Ye gods, I am doomed!
Even in her gentle presence, something starts
This pack of hellish thoughts upon my track.
Does conscience bar all outlets of escape
To self-convicted guilt?

Ione:
Apaecides,
Why are you ever murmuring at yourself?
Why do you cloud a life as pure as yours
With baseless fancies!—You, almost a priest
Of mystic Isis, who, behind her veil,
Soon to be cast aside for you, displays
The inner secrets of the universe?

Apaecides:
Folly, rank folly—a deluding lie—
A fool-trap, sister, in which I am caught;
A fraud, to gull the people of their rights,
And throttle sacred truth at every step.
Talk not to me of Isis; of all men,
Talk least to me.

Ione:
I fear your studies, brother,
Have overwrought your health.

Apaecides:
My studies! What,
To find the more we know, the wider grow
The bounds of ignorance; the more remains
Unknown, and, yea, unknowable?—my studies!
Go ask your Glaucus—how I love the man!—
A bold, brave thinker, not afraid of aught
That lies between him and the holy truth.

Ione:
Dear, brother!

Apaecides:
He's a Platonist; to him
The whole Pantheon is symbolical,
And nothing more, of the one, only Power.
[If he be right, then all the rest is false.

Ione:
His faith is mine. Why not give Isis up,
Before it is too late?

Apaecides:
My vows, my vows;
My honorable bondage to a lie.

Ione:
Pray talk with Glaucus.

Apaecides:
That I will. Perhaps
His clearer eye may see an issue hence.
(Takes out a scroll, and reads)
One conscious central Power! Is that the truth
My soul has groped for through this labyrinth?
So Plato thought—thinks; for the man still lives,
Like the immortals, in this vital scroll!
But no more of Arbaces and his lore,
His cheating mummeries, acknowledged lies;
His vocal Isis, with no better tongue
Than base Calenus for her oracles.

Ione:
Brother, you talk in riddles.

Apaecides:
Plain enough
To Isis' priests. Ione, fare you well!]
I must once more to what you call my studies.
A blind man feeling vaguely for the light
He cannot see.

Ione:
Forget not Glaucus; he
Is wiser and more learned than he cares
To let the world believe.

Apaecides:
Who doubts of that,
Since he chose you as mistress of his heart?

Ione:
Fie, jester, you are merry!

Apaecides:
(Embracing her)
Love is so.

(Exit)
Ione:
[Why is it that beneath Arbaces' touch
All things become involved in mystery,
In doubt, in gloom, in pain? Apaecides,
A twelve-month scholar, in that time has lost
His boyish spirit, changed into a man
As dark, secretive, wretched and forlorn,
As though he harbored undivulged crime
Within a heart I know to be unstained.]
If these be learning's fruits, the gods forbid
To me such dreary knowledge! Glaucus though—

Enter Scoros
Scoros:
Glaucus of Athens.

Ione:
At my call he comes!
Admit him. (Exit Scoros)


Nydia:
(Aside)
Ah! poor heart, sleep on!

Enter Glaucus
Ione:
My lord!

Glaucus:
My very life! Ione, do you know
What leaden feet the weary hours delay
That keep me from you?

Ione:
Nydia, go play;
Or rest yourself; I care not which, child, go!

Nydia:
(Aside)
Go play at murdering my heart,—a cheerful sport!
Or rest, the while my echoing bosom groans
With my heart's tortures! Child, child, ever child,
To him, to her: I who am but too much,
Alas! too much a woman!

Ione:
Why, my girl,
Loiter you thus?

Nydia:
(Apart to her)
O tell him, I beseech,
Of your intended visit to Arbaces.

Ione:
What need of that? You make too much of it.
Pardon this whispering, Glaucus.—Go, girl, go!
(Exit Nydia)
You do not mind our female mysteries:
You must get used to them betimes, my lord;
Else a new gown, a ribbon—nay, a stitch
Will make you sorrow.

Glaucus:
While I look on you,
I can defy all sorrow. If the Fates
Secure me you, they may take all the rest,
Save only life enough to love you with.

Ione:
Enchanter, if I love you, where's my blame,
Who ne'er was charmed before by words so sweet?
I have employment for your sorcery—
Ay, in my service too—Apaecides—
Who loves you, thank the gods!—is tempest-tossed
By doubts about his faith; and, most of all,
Touching those vows, made in his boyish days,
To goddess Isis. In another month,
He must advance from neophyte to priest,
Taking the last irrevocable step,
With all his heart against it, and his reason
Following his heart. Now, Glaucus, will you make
His growing confidence entirely yours;
Talk with him, and advise him; plant a faith
Within his doubting soul, to bring him rest,
And peace to me concerning him?

Glaucus:
Beloved,
This I can promise: if Apaecides
Will tolerate my friendship, I shall be
Close by his side, when I am not by yours.

Ione:
That is enough. We two conspirators,
For his soul's comfort, surely must succeed,
If love go hand in hand with policy.

Glaucus:
Give me love's hand. O fair, contriving brain,
What a pure heart inspires your purposes!
Shall I begin tonight? Where shall I find
My scholar?

Ione:
At his house with Plato.

Glaucus:
Yes?
In good companionship. My own, I hoped
To give this lovely evening to ourselves.
See how the moonlight glimmers on the bay,
Clinging to every wavelet's little crest,
As though she loved to make it beautiful!
Such is love's splendor on the stream of life;
Beneath his gaze, the prospect of our earth
So dazzles us as to seem heaven itself.
But you are anxious for your brother's fate,
And so should I be. Let us put aside
Our pleasure for that duty. May the gods
Guard you, beloved! (Embraces her)


Ione:
Until tomorrow then.

Glaucus:
Yes.

Ione:
But betimes:
No loitering.

Glaucus:
Nay, none.

Ione:
It is so weary—
Wearier than aught beside—to wait for you.

Glaucus:
Ah! gentle flatterer! Can we not part?
Farewell, love! (Exit)


Ione:
He is gone. Glaucus!—Nay, nay;
I must not call him back.
(Claps her hands)
Enter Scoros
My litter, Scoros.

(Scoros bows, and retires)
Enter Nydia
Nydia:
You called me, lady?

Ione:
No; Scoros I called,
To get my litter ready.

Nydia:
Shall I go
Along with you?

Ione:
What? to Arbaces' house?
No, that were needless. I shall soon return.

Nydia:
Glaucus is gone. I thought, when he came in,
He meant a longer visit.

Ione:
(Laughing)
Poor, poor Glaucus!
Must he have two, two tyrants of one sex,
To rule his ways? He is upon a mission
From me, the other tyrant, to my brother.

Nydia:
Ah! to Apaecides? Will he stay long?

Ione:
Perhaps till daybreak. For you know, my child,
When two men get to talking, heaven alone
Can tell when they will stop.

Nydia:
You're merry, lady.

Ione:
And you are very sad. What is it?

Nydia:
O,
I pray you, lady, on my bended knees, (Kneels)

Never again to visit that man's house.
When he went hence there was an evil ring
In his false voice. I know 'tis dangerous.

Ione:
Pshaw! Nydia, dangerous? When I was a child,
I played there by the day.

Nydia:
But, recollect,
You are a child no longer.

Ione:
Yes, to him
I shall be ever so; and, as I fear,
A froward one.

Enter Scoros
Scoros:
My lady's litter waits.

Ione:
Wait my return. (Going)


Nydia:
Then give me but one kiss.
It will so strengthen me.

Ione:
Dear Nydia, there.

(Kisses her. Exit)
Nydia runs to the window, and listens
Nydia:
Tramp, tramp! One, two, three, four;
one, two, three, four:
Four bearers and four slaves. That's not enough.
(Advances)
Arbaces' house is overrun with slaves,
That dare not disobey his whisper. Gods,
What shall I do? Shall I abandon her?
Let her come back, so foul, in her own soul
That she will never dare meet him again?—
See Glaucus—O my love, my hopeless love!
Oh! vile temptation, murdering love with love!
Thou poor blind creature, what hast thou to do
With love to one who is almost a god?
(Claps her hands)
Enter Scoros
Fly you, outstrip the winds! Bring Glaucus here,
With the same speed. He's with Apaecides.
Say that Ione sends for him; that life,
Or worse than death, hangs on his footsteps.—Go!
Why do you lag thus? He will pave your way
With gold tomorrow. Not a word but that:
Your mistress sends. Mark you, no word but that.

Scoros:
But—but—

Nydia:
How dare you loiter? By the gods,
I'll tear your eyes out, make you blind as I,
If you but fail me!
(Exit Scoros hastily)
(Kneeling)
Thank you, gracious gods!
You make me do that which alone is right
In your regard. Inspire ye Glaucus, too,
To come upon my bidding. Needless prayer!
He loves; and in her name, and with that charm
I called him here. Come? he must come, though death
Stood full before him with uplifted dart!
Hark! he is at the portal. Oh! that step!
My ear could pick it from an army's tread!

She seats herself, representing Ione, with her face turned aside. Enter Glaucus hastily
Glaucus:
My darling, what? Why is this summons?

Nydia:
(Aside)
Ah!
For once he called me by a tender name.
(Aloud)
Glaucus.

Glaucus:
What, Nydia?

Nydia:
(Aside)
O forgive me, heaven,
For that one moment lost: it was so sweet!

Glaucus:
Where is Ione?

Nydia:
Where? where is the dove
Within the falcon's grip? Gone; lured by wiles
Into Arbaces' house.

Glaucus:
Impossible!

Nydia:
'Tis so. She has no fear, and no distrust,
No knowledge even, of that wicked man.
Hark you! he loves her, in his own bad way,
As one beast loves another. Glaucus, come!

Glaucus:
Come, whither?

Nydia:
To Arbaces' house.

Glaucus:
What, I
Insult her by suspicion? I am a gentleman.

Nydia:
More than a man? By all the sacred gods,
You'll drive me mad among you! If I say,
Ione is in danger, lost perhaps,
Even at this moment; made a thing so low
That never in this life, or that to come,
Will she dare lift her wretched face to yours,
Because, now, now, while I am warning you,
You will not rescue her? What will you say—
What will your heart say to its misery,
When all this thing is done? Speak not, but act!
If you so fear your nice gentility,
Look you, this blind thing, this weak Nydia,
Knows every corner of Arbaces' house.
I can conduct you from its outer wall
Into the centre—back and forth again—
And no one know that you were ever there.
O Glaucus, if you love her, if you would
Save her from that would make her loathe herself,—
Come, come!

Glaucus:
Enough; go on! for at the worst,
'Twere but a loving folly on my part.
Hence, to the winds with scruples! Nydia,
You have evoked a fury in my heart;
What if your fears prove baseless?

Nydia:
Oh, why then
Beat out my life—beat from my silly clay
My very soul! But are you armed?

Glaucus:
Not I.

Nydia:
Alas! you may have need of arms? But why
Can I not think?
(Feels about the wall for a trophy of arms, from which she takes the sword)
Here, here! this is the sword
Her father carried in the German wars.
Throws the baldric over Glaucus' neck. Claps her hands
Enter Scoros
Scoros, take all our people, armed with staves,
But quietly, not in a noisy mob,
By twos and threes, let them assemble straight
By Isis' shrine, close to Arbaces' house.
If I should call, let them break in that house,
And find their mistress, though each step they take
Cost them a life. You hear me! Off, begone!
(Exit Scoros)
And now, my lord.

(She takes a stylus from the table, and thrusts it in her girdle)
Glaucus:
You have convinced me, child,
Of your sincere belief that this mad act
Is needful for Ione's sake. O how
Shall I repay you, if your fears prove true?

Nydia:
Perhaps you'll kiss me, here, between my eyes,
And wish that they could see you.

Glaucus:
Come, away!

Nydia:
Let the blind lead; for night and day are one
To me. No, not together. Follow you
My form afar; that no one may observe.

Glaucus:
Be quick then, Nydia. I shall know no rest
Until I know how groundless were your fears.

Nydia:
Shade of my mother, have I not done right?

(Exeunt)
Curtain

ACT III

Scene: The Study in the House of Arbaces
A vast room, containing strange astrological and chemical instruments
Arbaces discovered, examining a horoscope
Arbaces:
The stars all seem propitious. No, just here,
Saturn hangs baleful in my house of life.
That is to come; but that escaped, behold
How clear my sky! This aspect I distrust.
[It is too fair to be quite natural,
Weighing my life against man's common lot.
I saw this strange conjunction once before,
In Nero's case; one danger, threatening thus,
And, then, all clear beyond. To him it meant
Death and the mystery of death. How clear
To him, perhaps; how fathomless to us!]
Certain it is some danger, soon to fall,
Hangs o'er this town, if I may trust the stars.
For that I am prepared. My ships equipped,
And fretting at their cables, ride the bay;
And in another day they shall set sail,
With fair Ione, their most precious freight.
For go she shall. Have I lived all these years,
These years of burning love and watchfulness;
Have I forged wills and letters,—steeped my pride
In crime and meanness, till I scorn myself,
Now to be crossed by that Athenian boy?

(Sounds the sistrum
Enter Dromo
Dromo:
My lord?

Arbaces:
Summon Calenus here.
(Dromo bows and exit)
Calenus? hm! I cannot trust the man.
Somewhat I must however. Sordid slave,
Gold is his only master, and his faith
The thing that pays him most.

Enter Calenus
Calenus:
I was at hand;
I have been waiting on your leisure, master.
The matter of Apaecides has reached
A crisis. He declines the vows of priesthood.

Arbaces:
Indeed?

Calenus:
And more; he threatens to reveal
The secrets of the temple. This I know
From people who have heard him. All the town
[Stands now agog, to see the mystery stripped
From Isis; and the priests of Jupiter—
No better than ourselves, if tricks be sins—]
Encourage recreant Apaecides
To make a public statement.

Arbaces:
This is sad,
And most embarrassing to me just now;
For, as you know, Apaecides must die,
And suddenly, before his lips disclose
His threatened revelations.

Calenus:
That might do
In Egypt, master; but in Italy,
With Roman law about one's ears—'Twould cost
A deal of gold, to have it neatly done.

Arbaces:
If gold be all, take what you need. But hark;
Spare him until I have another chance
To win him from his purpose.

Calenus:
But the gold?

Arbaces:
Here, here, you glutton! Gather up these bags,
And go your dirty way!

(Calenus takes bags from a table)
Calenus:
(Aside)
My dirty way
Will be to put this money in my chest,
And ask for more, before I do the deed.

Arbaces:
Remember this, Calenus, you must keep
Your eyes upon Apaecides. Watch, watch
His slightest motion. If he go abroad,
Be you a shadow in his track. Begone!

Calenus:
My lord, as I came in, there was a stir
About your door; a lady in the act
Of 'lighting from her litter. Who is she?—
Another proselyte for Isis? (Laughing)


Arbaces:
Peace!
(Exit Calenus: Arbaces sounds the sistrum)
Enter Dromo
Dromo, show in Ione. Mark you, man;
No one must enter here until she leaves.
No matter what the outcries, sounds of strife,
Or calls for help, no one must pass that door,
Unless I sound the sistrum. Heed me well.
And when you go, stay in the atrium:
I shall not need you. Do you understand?
'Twere better for your body that you do.
(Dromo bows, and exit)
Now to assume the sage again.
(Seats himself, and seems to be lost in study)
Ah, hark!
That footfall, and the rustle of that robe,
Set my blood bounding.
Enter Ione
Dear Ione, welcome! (Rises)


Ione:
You show scant hospitality, my lord,
Not to receive me in your atrium.

Arbaces:
That which you seek is here.
(Pointing to a large coffer)
I was absorbed
In reading o'er your horoscope.

Ione:
(Laughing)
Ha! ha!
What say the riddling stars about a girl
As humble as myself?

Arbaces:
Nothing but good,
If you but heed the stars' interpreter.

Ione:
But of the letter?

Arbaces:
Open for yourself:
That is forbidden me by your father's will.

Ione:
So then. (Unlocks the coffer)
What's here? jewels and gold! Ah, yes;
Here is a letter. By your leave, my lord. (Reads)


Arbaces:
(Aside)
Let me read you, as you peruse the lines.
Distress?—a frown?—what, anger and disgust?
No sign of pleasure! Have I come to this?—
A priest and king of Egypt, of a race
Older than earth's traditions! Upstart Greek,
Those looks shall cost you dearly!

Ione:
This is all?

Arbaces:
All that I know of, and that little all
Seems not to please you.

Ione:
Do you know, Arbaces,
The substance of this letter?

Arbaces:
Certainly:
Your father read it to me as he wrote.
It was his darling project; planned, he thought,
To be your happiness and mine.

Ione:
You know,
Bound as I am by honor and by choice,
'Tis now impossible—nay, always was,
And always will be. Let me pass. (Going)


Arbaces:
Not yet. (Prevents her)

Listen to me. My rights outdate, undo
All other pledges. When you were a child,
I but a man, your father solemnly
Betrothed us two; as far as then he could,
Joined us as one forever. You have read
His dying testament, confirming that;
And there enjoining you, by all the love
You bear his memory, to obey his will,
And, at a marriageable age, to join
Yourself to me in wedlock.

Ione:
I cannot:
The thought is monstrous.

Arbaces:
Why? The fleeting fancy
For this Athenian is a child's desire
To catch a painted butterfly; and that
Will pass like other fancies. Credit me,
A life-long marriage is too grave a thing
To be so slightly founded.

Ione:
Let me go.
There was no moment in my life or yours,
When the mere thought of marriage with you
Could have been tolerable to me.

Arbaces:
(Preventing her going)
Alas!
And I have loved you, ah! so tenderly!
Not with a parent's or a tutor's love,
But with the fiery passion of a man
Who saw before him the one hope of you,
And bent his life to compass that. For that
I toiled, I studied, won both wealth and power;
Made man my subject, and the hands of men
My willing instruments; became, Ione,
That which I am, that which you know I am,
A giant among pygmies. O, I pray you,
Pause ere you put this mighty love aside,
To pick up slighter morsels! You are great;
Your spirit longs for grandeur and for power:
See, I can give them! Think you I abide
In this dull country, rather than the land
Where I am priest and monarch, for aught else
Than to crown you my empress? Let us fly
To dateless, deathless Egypt; to the realm
That ruled the world ere history began!
Come, come, aboard! My ships await us, love,
Eager to start as I am!

Ione:
Graceless man,
This is ungenerous—nay, cowardly,
To trap me here for this absurd display
Of wordy passion. Off, off! let me pass;
Or you shall reckon for your disrespect
With Glaucus!

Arbaces:
Glaucus! Never shall he think
Of your betrothal but with abject shame
After tonight. You shall no refuge find,
Henceforth, Ione, save within my arms! (Seizes her)


Ione:
Help, help!—oh! monster! (Struggles with him)


Arbaces:
You have made me that.

(She escapes from him, and falls on her knees)
Ione:
Pallas Athena, guard thy helpless child!

Enter Glaucus and Nydia. He dashes Arbaces down
Glaucus:
The goddess hears!—My darling! yes, look up!
There's naught to harm you.
(Arbaces snatches a sword from the table, and rushes at Glaucus who disarms him)
Said I not the truth?

Nydia:
(Apart to Glaucus)
Strike, or you'll rue it!

(She steals to the table, and removes the sistrum)
Glaucus:
Down upon your knees,
Villain and coward! Thank this gracious maid
That, by her presence, saves your life! And thank
The filthy gods you worship, that your crime
Failed of fulfillment; or their eyes had seen
Your carcass swimming in your guilty blood,
Here, at her outraged feet!

Arbaces:
Insulting Greek,
Dare you to vapor thus beneath my roof,
Caught, like your mistress, in the selfsame trap?
Yes, there shall be a reckoning ere we part,
Paid, coin by coin, in blood!
(Rushes to the table for the sistrum)
Gone! Are my gods
Against me too?

Glaucus:
There are no deities,
Worthy the name, that are not ever found
Upon the side of right. O, hide your head,
Lest your gods see you, and avenge themselves
On your defiance of their majesty.
Stand where you are. I am your master now,
And look for strict obedience; or my arm
Shall teach you how to cringe. Come, Nydia;
Lead out Ione to her litter. Dear,
Pardon this show of necessary force
Before your gentle eyes. Stir not, Egyptian!
Nay, seat yourself—down, down! (Arbaces sits)


Ione:
O Glaucus, Glaucus
The savior of my soul—

Glaucus:
There, there, my love!
You are too suffering yet to speak. Go, go!
Nydia, who really was your rescuer.
Will tell you all.

Nydia:
And you?

Glaucus:
I shall remain,
To keep Arbaces company; for fear
Our hospitable host should vex himself
With vain exertions.

Nydia:
There 's a coffer here:
Somewhere; where, where?
(Feels about, till she finds it)
Yes, here. Is this yours?

Ione:
Yes.
Oh! take me hence! I can endure no more.

Glaucus:
Why do you linger?

Nydia:
You are blinder far
Than I, lord Glaucus. Exit, with Ione)


Arbaces:
O ye gods, how long
Must I consent to this humility?

Glaucus:
Arbaces, in the silence of the night,
In solitude, when conscience and your soul
Stand face to face with memory; do you think
How vile a man you are? Do you recall
Your fraudful jugglings, wretched mountebank,
With simple people? how you dupe the world
Of ignorance with your mechanic Isis—
Her rolling eyes, her oracles?—oh! fie!
What think you of your efforts to corrupt
The pure, high nature of your former ward,
Apaecides, with orgies so obscene
That they disgusted even that fiery youth
Which is too prone to passion? Worse than all;
How will you answer, traitor to your trust,
For the infernal purpose of today?
Once more, I bid you to thank heaven it failed;
Or, at this moment, by the doleful Styx
You would be wandering, a guilty ghost
Awaiting awful judgment. Mend your life:
Employ your learning and your mental powers
In man 's behalf. Be not a cunning cheat,
Only to rule a rabble you despise.

Arbaces:
Save your own soul, if it be worth your care,
And give yourself instruction. I have had
Enough of your sarcastic virtue, Greek.
Go, leave me! but believe me there shall be
For you a reckoning for this day 's work,—
(A noise of coming slaves without)
Nay, it is on you! You have overstayed
Your time, and toiled yourself;—ha! ha! Without,
Without there, slaves!

Enter Scoros and other slaves of Ione, armed with slaves
Glaucus:
At fault once more.
Will you not learn that wickedness is weak,
Untrustworthy?—that good alone is strong;
And, in the gods' own day, triumphant?

Arbaces:
I—
I—

Glaucus:
Silence! Scoros?

Scoros:
I was sent to fetch
This coffer.

Glaucus:
Take it. (Slaves take up the coffer)


Scoros:
And my lady prays
Your instant presence.

Glaucus:
I shall come at once.
Go on before.

Scoros:
I cannot leave without you.

Glaucus:
There's Nydia's hand once more. Well, well! My lord,
With some reluctance, as you see, I must
Wish you good evening!

Arbaces:
Wish me nothing more,
To please me fully. Man, look here! The gods
Have given to you this day; but do you think
Your insolent triumph can outlast the day?
I'll pay you scorn with scorn. When next we meet,
Look to yourself: you'll need it!

Glaucus:
Until then,
Once more I have the honor to salute
Your baffled guilt, your malice, and yourself!
O sage of Egypt, go to school, and learn
At least the elements of simple truth.

(Exit, followed by slaves)
Arbaces:
O Isis, Isis, canst thou bear all this?—
Hast thou no thunderbolt to strike him dead?

(Sinks into a chair)
Curtain

ACT IV

Scene: A great Square before the temple of Isis. The House of Arbaces adjoining. Evening, gradually changing to night. A procession of Gladiators, returning from the arena, passes over the stage
Glad:
(Sing)

Exeunt singing, the sound gradually dying away in the distance
Enter Glaucus and Apaecides, followed by Calenus, who conceals himself behind a column of the temple, observing them
Glaucus:
Those fellows who stand daily face to face
With sudden death, have merry hearts, to sing
Just after leaving many a comrade dead
Within the bloody circus.

Apaecides:
Do not we,
We gladiators in the game of life,
Stand hourly also face to face with death?
Death is the one thing certain; and all else
Is wrapped in doubt.

Glaucus:
Apaecides, how now?
What gloom possesses you?

Apaecides:
Perhaps my soul
Hears the far footstep of approaching death.

Glaucus:
Death! why, you boy, you have not begun to live.

Apaecides:
But some are early marked, and all at last.
Let me not keep you, Glaucus; if you must,
Thus almost hourly, know my sister's house
Stands where it did. You overrate the fear,
I think; but love is reasonless. Go there,
And then return to me. I shall await
Your coming.

Glaucus:
Do so: I shall soon be back.
And then we will resume our broken thread
Of Plato 's thoughts about the triune Power,
And man 's immortal prospect. Sit you here;
And read the deathless stars above your head,
To help my argument.

Apaecides:
It needs no help.
There 's something, here, within me, cries aloud,
Like the gods' herald, man can never die!
Else then were death as great a curse as life.

Enter, from his house, Arbaces, who observes them
Glaucus:
Cheer up, my brother!

Apaecides:
When you come again,
I may be smiling. Who can say what fate
A single hour may bring?

Glaucus:
What happiness,
I trust you'll say, when we shall meet again. (Exit)


Apaecides seats himself
Apaecides:
Great flatterer of man, nature divine,
And, therefore, deathless, hast thou led astray
Our blind intelligence by fancies vast,
That make us dream ourselves eternal too,
Equal and like thee? [Are these soaring thoughts,
Of soul and spirit indestructible,
But the mere product of our vanity,
Faith in a hope that shall not be fulfilled;
As false and fleeting as the thousand dreams
We have of earthly things, that fade away,
The dream and dreamer, at the touch of death?
The child's design of what he'll be and do,
When he attains to man 's estate; alas!
Forgotten or impossible to him
On that attainment.]

Arbaces:
(Advancing)
Son, Apaecides,
Are you communing with the stars, my lore,
My faith, my guides?

Apaecides:
(Springing-up)
Insulting reprobate,
Have you the insolence to cross my path,
While the foul outrage to my sister's fame
Is fresh before my eyes? Go, if you hold
Your body 's safety dear! I cannot tell
What the mere sight of you may urge me to,
If we be long together.

Arbaces:
Pray, less heat,
Less heat, my son. I doubt not you have heard
A false report of me.

Apaecides:
Does Glaucus lie,
Ione lie, and Nydia? And are you
The single source of truth worth crediting!
Quack and imposter, I have known you long,
And filthy sensualist and debauchee;
But, villain, now you are a criminal,
Within the purview of our Roman law.
Flee, hide yourself from justice, ere you feel
The lictor 's hand upon your shoulder!

Arbaces:
Gods,
That one must meet injustice everywhere!

Apaecides:
'Tis not injustice that you have to fear,
But its reverse.

Arbaces:
Hear me, Apaecides!
Why, even the law would do me that much grace,
Before my condemnation.

Apaecides:
You were heard,
And judged, and sentenced, ere you came.

Arbaces:
I feared
That was the process. Can you reconcile
To mercy or to conscience your decree?
Now, as a priest of Isis—

Apaecides:
I am not.

Arbaces:
But you soon will be.

Apaecides:
Never! Should I be
A living fraud, a juggler, like yourself,
I could not see my image in a brook
Without a blush of shame. No, I shall wash
My conscience clean, from my degraded part
Of neophyte, before the people 's eyes,
Ere many days. Tell all I know, and all
I fairly may conjecture of the rites
And oracles of Isis. [For the way
Of man to truth lies over the discovered fraud
Of tolerated error.]

Arbaces:
You forget
Your vows of silence, and the penalty
Of such a perjury.

Apaecides:
No; for man 's behoof,
I'll draw the curse of Isis on myself.
Let her avenge her injuries, if she can.
I laugh at what a hollow stone can do,
With you her spirit, and Calenus tongue
To her absurd and childish mummeries.

Arbaces:
Then, in the name of Isis, I devote
Her perjured priest, a living sacrifice,
Before her desecrated shrine! (Stabs him)


Apaecides:
O wretch!
I see a hand stretched out to punish you,
There, in the heavens above. (Dies)


Arbaces:
Dreamer of dreams,
Sleep in that endless rest where dreams are not!
Isis, or rather thou, the inner Power,
Of which the gods are symbols, have I not
Done thee a duty?
Enter Glaucus looking for Apaecides
I must get me hence
Ere this poor shell be found.

Glaucus:
Apaecides!

Arbaces:
A better thought. 'Tis Glaucus back again.
O Isis, thou hast given into my hand
Full vengeance all at once. (He conceals himself)


Glaucus:
Apaecides!
Where is the boy? I left him sitting here.
Why, this is strange. He promised to remain.
What ho, Apaecides! No answer.

Arbaces:
Oh!— (Groans)


Glaucus:
What sound is that? A groan! and here about.
Could aught have happened?
(Searches about, and finds the body of Apaecides)
What's the matter, man?
Are you not well? Why are you lying here?
Speak to me, brother! Blood! what a sight is this!
(Lifts the body in his arms, and covers his garments with blood)
Not dead, I pray! Is there not life enough
To lengthen out thy being for a while?
How will Ione hear this dreadful news?
I left him to his fate: fool that I was;
And he in so much peril; with death 's hand
Hanging above him, as he said! Dead, dead!
Help, help!

Arbaces:
(Advancing)
Who calls so loud, and to what end?

Glaucus:
Glaucus of Athens. Pray you, gracious friend,
If you have skill in surgery, or know
What aid is needed, or can be obtained,
In this unhappy case—Arbaces!

Arbaces:
Yes;
Appeals to me sound strange from you.

Glaucus:
Alas!
You here, of all men! But forget our feud,
In this sad presence. O my Lord, look here!
Here is your ward, gentle Apaecides—
A man without a foe in all the world—
Murdered, I think. Oh! what a hideous tale
To bear his sister! Is he dead?

Arbaces:
(Examining the body)
Quite dead.

Glaucus:
Is there no hope?

Arbaces:
On this side of the grave,
His course is ended.

Glaucus:
Summon aid, I pray,
To bear him hence. He must not lie exposed
To the cruel night. Apaecides, my brother!

(Arbaces rushes off)
Arbaces:
(Within)
Help! murder! help!
Enter Arbaces, with Clodius, Sallust, Noblemen, Officers, Citizens and Gladiators, with torches. Calenus comes forward
This way, this way.

Citizens:
Who's this?

Calenus:
Apaecides, a priest of Isis.

Clodius:
What,
And murdered!

Sallust:
How he bleeds!

Arbaces:
(To Sallust)
'Tis ever thus;
In presence of the murderer, the corpse will bleed
After 'tis cold and stiff.

Glaucus:
Stand back, good friends:
I pray you, do not press on him, Now, men,
Obtain a litter from a neighboring house,
And bear him home.

Arbaces:
His sister 's house is nearer.

Glaucus:
No, no; not there. That were too terrible.

Enter an Aedile, Officer and guard. They form about the body. The others stand aside
Aedile:
The law has charge here. Is he dead?

Officer:
Yes, dead;
But the man's body is still warm.

Aedile:
The crime
Was recent then. Who is the murdered man?

Arbaces:
Apaecides, a priest of Isis.

Aedile:
So?
Murder and sacrilege in one. Who saw
Aught of this matter?

A Citizen:
When we came, we found
Glaucus of Athens by the body.

Aedile:
Then,
Glaucus, come forward.

Glaucus:
I am here.

Aedile:
You first
Made this discovery?

Glaucus:
So far as I know.
I was engaged to meet my murdered friend
Here, by yon column. Finding him not there,
I searched about for him. He must have been
Alive upon my coming; for I heard
A groan, which led me to the spot, where I
Beheld this awful sight.

Aedile:
Have you no more
To say? Who came the next?

Glaucus:
Arbaces. He
Called out for help, and brought the people here.

Aedile:
Stand forth, Arbaces.

Arbaces:
By your leave, I would
Far rather not be questioned.

Aedile:
I shall not
Consult your likings. Tell me what you know.

Arbaces:
I heard a cry for help, as I came forth
From Isis' house. I cannot say who called.
When I came hither, I beheld lord Glaucus
Holding the body in his arms. I judge
The blow was struck in passion, and the deed
Repented of at once.

Aedile:
So, then, you have
Some inkling of the murder?

Arbaces:
Do not press me.
Lord Glaucus is my friend—

Glaucus:
Since when?

Arbaces:
Ah, well!
He may deny my friendship; but I thank
The gods that I am no man's enemy!

Aedile:
Go on.

Arbaces:
Have I not answered?

Aedile:
To the point;
Speak out! What know you more?

Arbaces:
I heard a sound
Of quarrel in the square: that drew me forth:
The words I could not catch. I stood aloof;
For 'tis not safe to mix with angry men.
Then I heard this, “Die then!” and ere I could
Rush to the spot, the fatal blow was struck.

Glaucus:
Villain!

Arbaces:
(Pointing to Glaucus)
There stands the murderer of my ward,
Red with the spotted livery of his crime.

All:
Ha!—ha!

Arbaces:
I saw the blow struck.

Glaucus:
Boundless liar!

Arbaces:
Before the gods, I did.

Aedile:
Enough. Arrest
Glaucus of Athens. (Guards surround Glaucus)

You, Arbaces, must
Give bonds for your appearance at the trial.
Look to that, officer. Away with him.

Glaucus:
I pray you hear me, Aedile. I have friends
Among this throng, to whom I would not seem
To be the wretch that perjured villain's oath
Would make me. O, I loved Apaecides
As my own brother. I would not have laid
A feather 's weight upon his noble head,
If that annoyed him. And that here he lies,
Bathed in his youthful blood, is more to me,
More piercing sorrow, than the dreadful charge
Yon miscreant brings against me. Gladly, gladly,
Would I change places with my murdered friend,
To give him back to life, and to the eyes
Of his beloved sister. Hear me, friends!
Looking the synod of the sacred gods
Straight in their searching eyes, I here declare
That I am wholly innocent!

Aedile:
(To Guard)
Go on!

Noblemen:
And we believe you, Glaucus.

First Cit:
That's their way
They always stand up for their class.

Citizens:
Away,
Away with him!

Officer:
Stand back! Now, forward, men.

Exeunt Officer and guard with Glaucus; crowd following. Other Soldiers take up and exeunt with the body
Arbaces:
Indeed I am very sorry.

(Looking sadly after the body. To Clodius)
Clodius:
Keep your grief
For your own meditations. (Turns his back on Arbaces)


Sallust:
Hypocrite!

Exeunt Clodius, Sallust, Noblemen, Citizens and Gladiators. Arbaces enters his house
Enter Nydia, followed by Nydon
Nydon:
Where go you, Nydia, at this hour?

Nydia:
All hours
Are one to me. But stay by me, my Nydon.
There is a rumor—Have you heard of aught?
'Tis said Apaecides is slain.

Nydon:
Indeed?
But here Calenus comes. Ho, priest!

Nydia:
Calenus!

Calenus:
(Aside)
He shall pay roundly for my silence—pay
In talents this time; no mere bag of gold;
Or, by the gods, I'll take my chance of pay
From liberal Glaucus. Both ways I must gain.
Ha, Nydia, well met! How does your lady?
Is 't true, the rumor that she is betrothed
To Glaucus?

Nydia:
So 'tis said.

Calenus:
But is it true?

Nydia:
Yes, yes.

Calenus:
(Aside)
Another chance to fill my chest.
Then it must be a sorry time for her.

Nydia:
How so?

Calenus:
How so! Have you not heard the news?

Nydia:
Some rumor of Apaecides.

Calenus:
That all?
Apaecides was murdered hereabout.—
[Come, I can show his blood to you.

Nydia:
Nay, nay.

Calenus:
O, I forget your blindness. Well, 'tis true:]
And Glaucus is in custody, on charge
Of being the murderer.

Nydia:
Gods, preserve my wits!
But he is innocent.

Calenus:
Perhaps, perhaps.
Arbaces swears he is the murderer.
He saw the blow struck—as he says;
And I believe he did.

Nydia:
The chances, then,
Are that Arbaces is the murderer.

Calenus:
(Aside)
By Jove, the child is bright! She can see more,
With her blind eyes, than that dumb Aedile could,
And all his people. Nydia, look here:
If there were some one—say, a friend of mine—
Could prove that Glaucus, who's in mortal straits—

Nydia:
But he is innocent—

Calenus:
Well, grant that true.
There 's many a man, as innocent as he,
Has gone to death upon another's oath;
And so may Glaucus.

Nydia:
But the gods are just.

Calenus:
Sometimes they keep their justice to themselves,
And let their unjust creatures have their way;—
Hey, Nydia? Now, how think you, would it pay
My friend, who is so poor—so very poor—
Would it pay him—just as poor Glaucus seems
Caught in the net—to rise in open court,
And make his innocence as clear as day?
How would it pay, my girl?

Nydia:
In millions, man—
Talent on talent. Nay, 'twould pay as well
To do all that before the trial.

Calenus:
Hm!
That will bear thinking of. Well, meet me here—
No, no, not here—a little further off—
Say, at the corner of Ione's house,
Tomorrow morning.

Nydia:
At what hour?

Calenus:
The fourth.

Enter Arbaces with a torch. He searches about at the spot of the murder
Nydia:
Hist, hist!—

Arbaces:
Calenus! (Advancing, he extinguishes the torch)


Calenus:
(Approaching him)
Master, did you call?

Nydia and Nydon withdraw apart
Arbaces:
I heard your voice. With whom were you in talk?

Calenus:
Some people of the town, who wished to know
About the murder. Jove! how dark it grows!

Arbaces:
The clouds are gathering; we shall have a storm.

Nydia:
Is it dark?

Nydon:
Very.

Nydia:
How far can you see?

Nydon:
Eight or nine paces.

Nydia:
And no more?

Nydon:
No more.

Nydia:
Keep quiet, Nydon, until I return.

She throws herself on the ground, and creeps towards Arbaces and Calenus, listening intently
Arbaces:
'Tis late, for you.

Calenus:
Is it so late?

Arbaces:
(Looking at the sky)
Yes, see,
There 's Vega almost overhead. It is
Close upon midnight.

Calenus:
Hm!

Arbaces:
What brought you here?

Calenus:
And you?

Arbaces:
I lost my stylus in the crowd,
And came to seek it.

Calenus:
Ah? I picked it up,
And hid it in the temple. That 's to say,
One half of it. The point must yet remain
Wedged in the body. Glaucus broke it off,
When he withdrew it, I suppose.

Arbaces:
How so?
Then that was Glaucus' stylus.

Calenus:
Yes, perhaps,
With your cartouche engraved upon the knob:—
That is quite likely!

Arbaces:
Man, what mean you? I—
I saw the blow struck, as you heard me swear.

Calenus:
And so did I: but I have not sworn yet.

Arbaces:
Ha! where were you?

Calenus:
Close by—not ten steps off—
Watching Apaecides, as you commanded.

Arbaces:
Then you know all.

Calenus:
Is it all over yet?

Arbaces:
You mocking satyr, what is in your mind?

Calenus:
What I remember.

Arbaces:
Did I not do well?

Calenus:
Yes: as a priest of Isis, I must say
Quite well; but as a Roman citizen—

Arbaces:
Well, man?

Calenus:
That is another matter.

Arbaces:
Ha!
What do you want? more gold?

Calenus:
Yes, very much.
I am so poor, so very poor.

Arbaces:
(Aside)
He knows too much.
'Tis plain that I must stop his gabbling mouth,
Even though his ghost pursue Apaecides!
(Aloud)
Gold you shall have; enough to make you great
Among the little people of this place.

Calenus:
The gold, and not the greatness, is my need.

Arbaces:
Come to my treasury, and take your choice
Of silver, gold, and jewels. Dear Calenus,
You know how I have loved you.

Calenus:
Yes, I know.
And now you love me better than before.

Nydia creeps back to Nydon
Arbaces:
Why, truly, comrade. (Aside)
If you leave that vault
Alive, write fool, in characters of fire,
Upon my forehead. (Aloud)
Come, come, dear Calenus!

(Exeunt into Arbaces' house)
Nydia:
Nydon, I know my life is in my hand,
But I must follow.

Nydon:
Let me go with you.

Nydia:
No; that were forfeiting all outer help.
Stay till I come. If I should not return;
Tomorrow, when Arbaces is in Court,
Break in this house, and find me and Calenus.
Swear by the gods you will.

Nydon:
I swear.

Nydia:
(Patting his cheek)
Dear Nydon!
How many gladiators can you bring?

Nydon:
Enough to overpower a gang of slaves.

Nydia:
Bring picks and bars. Now you may kiss me, Nydon.
(He kisses her)
But wait; there 's something tells me I'll return.

(Exit into Arbaces' house)
Nydon:
She knows I love her; but I never dare
So much as whisper it, since she became
My lady 's lady; dropped the flower-girl 's gear,
And made me feel so far beneath her feet.
What she is aiming at, I do not know;
But since she does it, it must be all right—
At least for me, who would front burning Hades,
If she but crooked her finger. What was that?
Only the wind. I wonder if men 's ghosts
Walk, as 'tis said, the spots where crimes were done.
By Hercules, I wish the girl would come!
I do not like this darkness, and the breeze
Chills from the sea.

Enter Nydia from Arbaces' house
Nydia:
O Nydon! are you there?

Nydon:
Here, Nydia.

Nydia:
It was as I feared 'twould be.
Arbaces lured that miser to his gold;
Then struck him down, and left him in the vault.
I heard him mutter, as he issued forth,
And locked and barred the heavy iron doors:
“There blab my secret to the granite walls,
Till famine make your tongue too thick to talk.”
And then he laughed,—oh, horror! what a laugh!
Hell must have gaped to hear it!

Nydon:
Nydia,
What means all this? Why are you so concerned
About Calenus?

Nydia:
Simple Nydon! Say,
Can you not trust me? lend me all your might
When I have need of you?

Nydon:
You know.

Nydia:
Well, then,
Tomorrow you and I will save the life
Of Glaucus. Nydon, do you ever pray?

Nydon:
I use the gods to swear by chiefly, yet
If you will have it, I could pray for you.

Nydia:
Do so tonight, my Nydon. O ye gods,
Let my brain hold together; for my heart
Is well nigh broken. O to be a Man!
This stress and strain is far too much for me,
A feeble girl!

Nydon:
But, Nydia, I believe
You love this Glaucus.

Nydia:
(Laughing wildly)
Ha! ha! ha! why, yes,
As an owl loves the moon above her head,
She sings to so, so sweetly! Can 't you see,
I am as dirt beneath his noble feet,
As very dirt? Come, come! I shall go mad,
If thoughts like these besiege me. Help me, gods!

(She almost faints, weeping passionately. Exit supported by Nydon)
Curtain

ACT V

Scene: The Forum. Left of the stage occupied by the Basilica, or Hall of Justice. At the right the temple of Venus. A triumphal arch in centre of stage. The back of Scene a Doric Colonnade, through and above which the adjacent city and country are seen. Mount Vesuvius in the distance, to the right of centre of stage. The trial of Glaucus is supposed to be taking place in the Basilica. A throng of people fill the stage. Enter from the Basilica, Clodius, Sallust and other Noblemen
Clodius:
I know the man. I tell you, gentlemen,
He is incapable of such an act.

1st Noble:
But the Egyptian 's oath was so direct:
[He heard the quarrel, saw the blow struck.

Clodius:
True:
But then the motive? In the name of sense,
Tell me why Glaucus killed Apaecides?—
His bosom friend, the brother of the maid
To whom he was contracted!

2d Noble:
It was done
In hot blood, haply, as Arbaces said.
Had Glaucus supped abroad?

Sallust:
No, no; at home,
And with Apaecides, his freedman swore,
Discussing Plato.

Clodius:
Is there aught in Plato
To lead a man to murder? It was shown
That this Arbaces had pretext enough
To hate both Glaucus and Apaecides.
And yet the lying wizard one time said—
You heard him, Sallust?—

Sallust:
Yes; beside the corpse.

Clodius:
He said that Glaucus was his friend. Could hate
Go further than the countenance he wore
At mention of Ione 's name?

2d Noble:
That 's true.]

Clodius:
Distrust that black Egyptian. It would not
Amaze me, if one day it should be shown
Arbaces struck the blow; and therefore saw it,
As you may deem, quite readily.

All:
O Clodius!—

1st Noble:
That 's more improbable than your belief
In Glaucus' innocence.

Sallust:
Now silence. Hark!
Here is the Nuntius.

Clodius:
Move a little on.

Enter, on the steps of the Basilica, the Nuntius. He reads
Nuntius:

In the name of the Senate and the Roman People, hear!

Glaucus of Athens found to be guilty of the crimes of sacrilege and murder, in causing, by a blow of his stylus, the death of Apaecides, a Roman citizen and Priest of Isis, is adjudged to death, in the

manner as follows: He shall be taken hence, today and, armed with a stylus, shall oppose a lion in the arena.

All good citizens lend aid to carry out the sentence of the law. (Exit)

The people cheer
Clodius:
The bloody knaves! For all the law 's decree,
I think him guiltless.

Sallust:
What does that avail?
[Could we appeal to Titus?

Clodius:
There 's no time.

Sallust:
I know the Emperor loves Glaucus well.
And oft has entertained him privately.
When will the sentence be enforced?

Clodius:
Today—
Now, on the instant—while the games proceed.
That noble gentleman to fill a place
With gladiators in their beastly sports!
Why, man, they teach us murder as an art.]
My heart is sick, good Sallust.

Sallust:
See, they come.

Enter from the Basilica in solemn procession, the Praetor, Quaestor, Nuntius and Soldiers. Then Glaucus, in custody of Lictors, with the edges of their axes turned towards him, followed by Soldiers, et cetera. As Glaucus reaches the centre of the stage, enter Ione, attended. Enter Arbaces from the Basilica
Ione:
My Glaucus!— (Falls on his bosom)


(Lictors are about to interfere)
Praetor:
Nay; permit it. (Lictors stand back)


Clodius:
Yet you say
That man is guilty! By the sacred gods,
Then she is guilty too!

Praetor:
Peace, Clodius!

Glaucus:
My darling, O my darling, what sad chance
Has brought you here?

Ione:
Why, where else should I be—
Your own betrothed, your almost wife? I stand,
Here, in the presence of both gods and men,
To testify your innocence. Nay, nay;
All words are needless. Do not tell my ear
What my heart knows so clearly, that your hands—
O let me kiss them—are as free from blood
As these I lift in blessings o'er your head.

Glaucus:
I cannot blame your coming now, brave girl.
Now I have heart to face the lion 's teeth:
Perhaps to conquer him; or dying, dear,
This memory of your loving heart will cheer
My mangled body, give me strength to die,
And hope beyond the grave for both of us.

Arbaces:
(To Praetor)
This scene is most unseemly.

Ione:
Bloody wolf,
Are you not satisfied with this day 's work?
Slink to your kennel; or my hero's arms,
Bound as they are, may teach you once again
The lesson that my presence—woe is me!—
Made incomplete! (Arbaces retires)

See, how the coward flees,
At the mere memory! Let me tell them all:—
His cause of enmity to you, the scene
Through which I passed, when nothing but your arm
Saved me from worse than death. Pray, Glaucus, yield!
[Surely the Praetor has a kindly heart;
And that will whisper what the truth must be.]

Glaucus:
It were in vain, Ione. I stand here
Judged for my seeming crime, not his.
No shade must settle on your virgin name
Cast by my history.

Ione:
What will be my name
After today? and how long will it last,
A prey to malice, after you are gone?
Think you I will not follow where you lead—
Oh! yes, so briskly and so cheerfully?
Apaecides, and Glaucus, and Ione,
Will make but one extended funeral-train.
Let them keep one urn open for us all.

Glaucus:
Darling, have courage; for the longest life,
Compared to that eternity from which
We come and go, is but a meteor's flash
Between two chasms of darkness. Bear your life,
Not as a pleasure, as a duty. Think,
This pang of death may be the birth-pang shrewd
By which we are born into a higher life,
A life eternal. Hope we there shall meet,
And, for that hope, bear all.

Ione:
It must be so;
We must meet somewhere, Glaucus—somewhere, dear;
For love must be immortal.

Praetor:
(Advancing)
Gentle lady,
Sad as it makes me, I must bid you go.

Ione:
Go where, in heaven 's name? All my life is here.
Where shall I go?

Glaucus:
Ione, for my sake,
Make not a woman of me, while I need
Full manhood to confront my doom. One kiss,
(Kisses her)
Another, and another. There, love, go!

Ione:
Glaucus, my lord, my husband!

(She faints in the arms of attendants)
The Lictors surround Glaucus
Praetor:
Move!

Officer:
March on!

Before they move, shouts are heard without of “Glaucus, Glaucus!” Enter Nydia, who falls, but soon recovers, followed by Nydon and other Gladiators, supporting Calenus. Arbaces advances curiously, not perceiving Calenus
Nydia:
Saved, saved! Where is he? I am dazed and faint.
O lead me to him! (Nydon leads her to Glaucus)

And is this my lord—
Alive, unharmed? (She kisses his garments)


Glaucus:
Yes, Nydia.

Arbaces:
Is she mad?
I pray you, Praetor—

Nydia:
That 's Arbaces too.
(She bursts into a wild laugh)
Seize the Egyptian! I denounce the man
As murderer of Apaecides. And here
Is proof on proof, confirming all I say.
Bring forth Calenus!

(The Gladiators bring him forward)
Arbaces:
(Aside)
Traitor! Is it he?
I left him starving in a crypt, as safe
As in a chamber in the pyramids.

He is about to go, when Nydon stops him
Praetor:
Secure Arbaces. (Soldiers form about him)

Now, what man are you—
So pale and wretched, spiritless and weak?

Calenus:
I am Calenus, Priest of Isis, Praetor.
Imprisoned, starved, made desperate; in a night,
Made to endure an age of agony,
By yonder man; because, my lord, I saw—
As I now swear by all the sacred gods—
Arbaces murder young Apaecides!

Praetor:
Saw it?

Calenus:
Yes, saw it.

Arbaces:
A detected thief,
Caught breaking in my treasury.

Praetor:
Forbear!
You may speak later. Have you proof of this?

Glaucus:
Was not Arbaces' oath enough, my lord,
For my conviction? Why then hesitate
To credit one as sacred; not forgetting—
As the whole tenor of my trial showed—
How far more probable? Pray pardon me:
But I was trained up in our law, and stand
Here without other advocate, to speak
A word in my behalf.

Praetor:
Glaucus, my heart
Leans too much towards you: I distrust myself.

Glaucus:
I have no more to say. I leave my cause
With you and justice. Yet, one moment, hear.
Do not suppose I shrink from death. Not death,
But shame appals me, and the breaking heart
Of my betrothed, who should not suffer thus
If I am guiltless. Men of Pompeii,
Have I not lived unspotted in your sight
These many years? When did a poor man come
To Glaucus' door, to go away unheard,
Unsuccored, though his worth no more could plead
Than simple poverty? Men such as he,
(Pointing to Arbaces)
Called me a fool, a spendthrift; said I threw
My fortune thus, and almost uselessly,
Into the hungry sea of want; but you
Gave me a name of which my soul is proud—
A name I hope to hear before the gods—
You called me: Glaucus of the open hand.
Have you forgot me? See that I have right!
See that my waiting bride shall not have cause
To bend above my ashes, not in grief—
Not in grief only—but in abject shame
That to my name clings that of murderer!

Praetor:
No more of this!

Citizens:
Ho! Glaucus!—Glaucus, ho!—
Release him!—Give him back to us!

Clodius:
And what,
What of Arbaces?

Citizens:
To the lion with him!—
Arbaces to the lion!

Praetor:
Ho! my guard!
Where are the soldiers?

Clodius:
Where they ought to be,
Joined with the people.

Praetor:
Hear me, citizens!
Arbaces shall have trial; should his guilt
Be proved, he shall have punishment—the same
That was decreed to Glaucus, who shall be
Set free at once.

Citizens:
No, no; cut off his bonds!
Arbaces to the lion! He has had
Trial enough.

The people release Glaucus
Praetor:
Protect the prisoner, guard!

Citizens:
They dare not!

The crowd is about to rush on Arbaces
Arbaces:
Back, you vulgar curs! Behold,
Isis protects her son!

The scene suddenly becomes very dark. The roar of the earthquake is heard, and the crash of falling buildings. Smoke and fire burst from Vesuvius. Fire, stones and ashes fall upon the stage. The people flee in every direction. Glaucus supports Ione, who, with Nydia and one Sentinel, calmly pacing before the Basilica, remain
Glaucus:
Ione, dear,
Look up! We have no time to lose. Alas!
She has not strength to move. O Nydia.
What is to do? 'Tis certain death to wait.
Ah! she revives. (Ione slowly recovers)


Nydia:
But what has happened, Glaucus?

Glaucus:
Nature has done her worst. Vesevius
Has burst into eruption, and the town
Is sinking slowly, like a foundering ship,
Under a sea of ashes. We must flee.

Nydia:
Where are the others?

Glaucus:
Fled.

Nydia:
What, Nydon too?

Glaucus:
Yes; all.

Nydia:
And yet he said he loved me.

Ione:
Glaucus,
Are you not free?

Glaucus:
Quite free.

Ione:
And did I dream?
Or did I hear the whole world cry aloud,
“Glaucus is innocent?” But what is this,
This dreadful darkness, and this hissing shower
Beating about us? Gods, why slides the ground
Beneath my feet?

Glaucus:
Ione, we must go.
Can you walk, dear?

Ione:
A little. Let me try:
Yes, yes. What, Nydia? Faithful to the last.

Nydia:
Faithful to fate: what can I else be?

Glaucus:
Come!
Lean on me, darling. Shall I carry you?

Ione:
No, I can walk quite bravely. Walk to death,
Smiling and happy, with that shout at heart,
“Glaucus is innocent!”

Glaucus:
Alas, alas!
We are too late. I cannot see my way
Through this thick darkness.

Nydia:
But I can. My lord,
Whither shall I conduct you? Blessed fate,
That took my eyes, yet left me in their place
The instincts of the chasing hound! Where, then?

Glaucus:
To the south port, as straight as you can go.
Once by the seaside, we shall find a ship,
And turn our backs upon this wretched land.
To Athens, Nydia!

As they are about to go, enter Arbaces, through the central archway, intercepting them, followed by armed slaves with torches
Arbaces:
Ho, stand! The gods
Have chosen this day of terrors as my own.
Seize on Ione! Cut that murderous Greek
Into a thousand pieces! (Draws)
It is well,
It is well, Isis; and I thank your grace!

As he and the slaves are about to advance, the earthquake recommences; a great fragment of the cornice of the arch falls upon Arbaces and fells him; then a column falls across his body
The slaves flee in terror. Heavy clouds roll down, and settle upon the scene as Glaucus and Ione, led by

---

99

Nydia, are seen slowly making their way off the stage. The sounds of the earthquake and of the eruption increase. The clouds lift, and show the seaside, with ships and boast in the offing. Pompeii in ruins, half hidden from view by a storm of fire and ashes. Vesuvius in the distance in violent eruption. The stage thronged with fugitives, noblemen, soldiers, citizens, slaves, et cetera. Enter Nydia, conducting Glaucus supporting Ione
He places her upon a bank. Her slaves, from among the fugitives, surround her
Nydia:
My work is done. This is the sea. I feel
Its cool, fresh kisses on my cheek, and hear
Its murmuring surges whispering peace to me.
Are we arrived?

Glaucus:
Yes, Nydia, As before
We owed you honor and repute, today
We owe you life, and all that life may give
Throughout the future that may be in store
For us, three heart-bound friends.

Nydia:
Enough, enough:
Then I may go.

Glaucus:
Go whither? Do you think
Ione now, or I, will part with you?

Nydia:
You must. A power, we cannot disobey,
Has summoned me.

She sinks upon the ground. Glaucus supports her
Glaucus:
What mean you, child?

Nydia:
My race
Is run; I go into the night that has oppressed
My blinded eyes so long. But do you think
The blind see there?

Glaucus:
Where?

Nydia:
Where my mother is?—
Ah, me!

Glaucus:
Ione!

Nydia:
Nay, disturb her not.
She has more need of rest that I of her.
My rest is coming.

Glaucus:
Oh, poor child, poor child!

Nydia:
Child, ever child! It was not for a child
To bear the love I felt for you. No, no;
This hot, consuming heart, outworn at length—
Breaking, yea, broken,—was a woman's heart—
A mad, impulsive, passionate, blind thing,
That would not take even the great god's dread No!
For answer to its yearnings. That is all.
I have said the words that burned upon my lips
Since I first knew you. Glaucus—

Glaucus:
Nydia?
This is the saddest moment of my life.
Go, Nydia! I would not keep you here,
To struggle ever with despair.

Nydia:
Right, right!
The gods know best: the gods are merciful.

Ione revives, and advances
Ione:
What does this mean?

Glaucus:
Our Nydia, I fear,
Is dying.

Nydia:
“Fear!” he means, he hopes. Dear lady,
Has the poor slave you bought deceived you once?—
Failed in one duty?

Ione:
Nydia, sister!—Gods,
Spare her young life! Take from my fated days,
And add them to her store!

Nydia:
I am o'erpaid.
Glaucus, I see! The touch of death has cleared
My stony vision. Look, my mother comes!
Lift me, to catch her falling kiss!
(Ione kisses her, weeping)
So, so!
(Glaucus kisses her)
All blessings fall together! Glaucus—ah! (Dies)


Glaucus:
Nydia?—'Tis past! Her spotless spirit walks
The happy gardens of Elysium!
(Others group about the body)
Lift her with reverence. Her dust shall lie
Beneath the sunshine of her native land.
She was compounded of the flowers she loved—
As purely beautiful, as innocent,
Her risen soul will make that spot more bright,
Though it be heaven, in which her spirit blooms.
Ione, we must quit this mournful spot
That of itself outcasts us. Let our haste
Know no repose, until the Parthenon
Rise in the splendor of the morning sun,
Like the Olympian palace of the gods,
Out of our azure waters. Come, aboard!

Curtain, as they prepare to embark