University of Virginia Library

ACT THE FIRST.

SCENE THE FIRST.

Timophanes, Echilus.
Tim.
Echilus, no; if at my side the sword
Distain'd with blood thou seest, to use force
I am not led by haughtiness of heart;
The general good impels me thus to act;
The fame of Corinth which in me has placed
Its delegated power.

Ech.
Heaven knows I love thee!
Betwixt us even from our earliest years
The strictest ties of amity were formed,
To which more sanctimonious ties of blood
Were added afterwards. A happier day
I never saw than that on which I gave thee,
As consort, my beloved, only sister.
When against Argos and Pleones fighting,
I witnessed by thy side unheard-of proofs
Of martial valour, thou subduedst me
With wonder that enhanced my former fondness.
Thou canst not, and thou oughtest not to live
Obscure in privacy: but I behold
The most illustrious blood of Corinth spilled
By thee; and thou a tyrant's odious name
Dost thence acquire. Such hitherto I deem
Thou art not; but intense disquietude
In hearing this consumes me.

Tim.
And perchance,
In acting thus, a grief not less intense
Preys on my heart. Yet what else can I do,
If I am forced, in order to secure
The city's quiet, to adopt such measures?
That full four hundred swords should wait my nod,
Even my fellow citizens themselves
Have deemed advisable. I have mown down,
'Tis true, some lives distinguished, but obnoxious,
Which were already equitably due
To public vengeance; and there still remain
Ill-disposed persons of that corrupt seed,
Who, having long been used to sell themselves,
Their city, and their suffrages, complain
Of my authority. That power they find
Too great a hindrance to their venal guilt;
Hence all this envy, tumult, and disturbance.

Ech.
Confusion, discord, and the love of party,
The insolence of the nobles, it is true,
Almost have overwhelmed us. And, perchance,
What form of government would suit us best,
'Twould now perplex me to decide: but all
With me protest, that we will ne'er endure
A form that is not absolutely free.
With more complacency I should behold
Thy methods to secure internal peace,
If they were purchased with less blood.

Tim.
Sometimes
Blood, for the sake of sparing it, is spilled.
If from the infected frame I do not lop
The injured members, can the rest be cured?
From the most corrupt magistrates, in part,
The city I've delivered: it behoves us
To trace so many evils to their source,
And fortify with renovated laws,
Applied with judgment, the infirm republic.
If he is called a tyrant who renews
The laws, I am a tyrant; but to him
Who tramples on them, if this epithet
More properly belong, I am not one.
The wishes of the many are accomplished
By every deed of mine: the few complain;
Let them complain unheeded!

Ech.
If thy brother,
That man of unexampled worth, Timoleon,
Enrol himself among them, canst thou say
That they are few? More than himself he loves thee;
And yet he openly condemns thy conduct.
I fain would think thy objects laudable;
But too impetuous, e'en in a good cause
'Tis more than possible thou may'st adopt
Measures too violent: for one to grasp,
Whatever be his object, sovereign power,
Timophanes, believe me, is an act
Of perilous presumption; and to me
Seems most tremendous; having power to injure,
Alas! most commonly provokes to injure.

Tim.
Thou speakest wisely; but if ardent passions
Push not men on to lofty enterprize,
Calm wisdom never will accomplish it.
In Lacedæmon thou didst see Lycurgus,
Who wished to make his absolute controul
Subservient to the universal good:
Was not e'en he constrained to make himself
A tyrant, to demolish tyranny?
Alas, 'tis force alone then can compel
To virtuous actions a degenerate people.

Ech.
Thou hast that force. May heaven direct thee then
To apply it worthily to worthy ends.

SCENE THE SECOND.

Demariste, Timophanes, Echilus.
Dem.
My son, all Corinth with thy name resounds,
But diversely. Yet is it to my heart
A flattering consciousness that I'm thy mother.
Thou wert the champion of thy country; thence
I, on the other hand, lament to hear
That thou'rt suspected of equivocal,
And private views: it grieves me, that in Corinth,
One citizen, though wrongfully, should hate thee.
For thee am I too anxious.

Tim.
Oh, my mother,
Less would'st thou love me, if thy fears were less.
I venture to confront a glorious danger:
But such are the discordant obligations
On us imposed; a lady, thou should'st fear,
And I should challenge fear.

Dem.
It pleases me
This thy audacious military pride:
I deem myself no private citizen;
But mother of two heroes, one of whom
Were more than requisite to raise me far
Above each Grecian mother. Every wish
Were now accomplished, could Timoleon act
With thee in concert, and attemper, thus,
With his strong sense, “the mettle of thy spirits.”

Tim.
Perhaps in his heart Timoleon hitherto
From me dissents not; but the transient hate
Which ever misinterprets the designs
Of those who dare to innovate, he shuns;
And meanwhile leaves me in the perilous lists
To toil alone.

Ech.
In this thou art deceived;
Already have I told thee so: thy schemes
He disapproves; far less, if he did not,
The number of thy foes.

Dem.
Thou speakest well;
For this I came. Timoleon is in years
Alone not equal to thyself, canst thou
Disdain to have him then in all thy schemes
Thy coadjutor? His amenity
Is fitted to controul thy eager rashness.
Fatherless children I already see,
Afflicted widows, mothers destitute,
Cast towards me their discontented looks;
On me, as on the cause of all their woes.
Many by thee have fallen: if rightfully,
Why does thy brother blame thee for it? Why,
If wrongfully, dost thou thus act? In Corinth
The greatest virtue, not the greatest power,
Gave us at first precedency. Ah yes,
Upon the terrible footsteps of my sons
Let tears be shed, but be they tears of foes;
And let the citizens exult with joy
On your beloved steps; let me receive
Their benedictions that I am your mother.

Tim.
Yes, in the camp where valour only gains
Precedency, the first place to ourselves
We ourselves give: within the idle walls
Of a divided city, envy, arm'd
With calumny and fraud, the chiefest place,
To those who have a claim to it, denies.
'Tis indispensable, too certainly!
That we endure, prelusive to long joy,
Transient distress, would we exterminate
This deadly serpent; and whoe'er does this
Must look for glory after long endurance.
That in proportion as I merit glory,
My brother feels for me less love, I grieve.

Dem.
Vile and invidious thoughts in him? ...

Tim.
I think not;
But yet ...

Ech.
But yet, no lofty enterprize
Thou e'er canst consummate, if strenuously
With heart and hand he aid thee not.

Tim.
From this
Who hinders him? I have entreated him
A thousand times: averse he always seemed.
My coadjutor I disdain him not;
But I endure him not my interrupter.

Dem.
Can I a peril patiently behold,
To which thou'rt liable by him unshared;
Or see thee gain an undivided triumph?
Echilus, go to him; to this abode,
Which for a long time now no more he deems
The dwelling of his brother or his mother,
Bring him to us. Or he shall be convinced
By us, or we by him; so that to-day
One thought alone, one object, and one will
To Demariste and her sons, be law.

SCENE THE THIRD.

Demariste, Timophanes.
Tim.
Perhaps he will come at thy entreaties; long
Has he to my repeated ones been deaf:
He as a foe avoids me. Thou wilt hear,
How every scheme of mine malignantly
With dark hues he disfigures.

Dem.
Evermore
Timoleon is the epitome of virtue.
Thou construest not such praise to thy reproach?
Of one son to another may a mother
Speak it unblamed. I wish to hear from him
Why he avoids thee. That thou'rt loved by him,
Thou knowest: with his premature discretion
He formerly attempered the excesses
Of thy too fervent early years; himself
Caused thee of the Corinthian cavalry
To be elected captain: well may'st thou
That fatal day remember, when thy valour
Had too far onward with thy partizans
Blindly impell'd thee, and entangled thee
Among the Argive spears: who rescued thee
From certain ruin on that fatal day?
Say did not he at his most imminent risk,
And he alone, perchance, to thy adherents
Preserve their honour, to thyself thy life,
And victory to Corinth?

Tim.
Mother, I
Am not ungrateful; all I recollect.
Ah, yes, my life is his; for him I keep it:
As much as glory I my brother love:
Tremendous dangers I alone confront;
He afterwards the precious fruit of this,
If so he will, may taste with me in peace.
But what do I suggest? He has not been,
For a long time, what he was once to me.
He ranks among his most beloved friends
My most inveterate foes. That Archidas,
That overbearing and flagitious judge,
Who at his will now absolutely rules
This residue of magistrates, who dares,
In tones of rage and envy, to proclaim me
Worthy of death; inseparable friend,
Guide, and adviser is he to my brother.—
Why cruelly preserve my life, if he
Afterwards plots to rob me of a treasure
Far, far more precious—fame?

Dem.
Do not believe
He acts with inadvertency or malice?
Let us first hear him.

Tim.
Mother, we will hear him.
Ah, be not this the day to manifest
That he in brotherly kindness is defective,
Or that I am ungrateful! Thou knowest well
That he himself would take from me that power
With which he formerly invested me;
That he professes this?

Dem.
'Twere better far
That he shared it with thee: in both of you
Is equal valour; suffer that I say it,
In prudence he surpasses thee: united,
What would ye not perform? What government
Could be so admirably harmonized?
What mother, than myself, more fortunate,
If with one glory and one power resplendent,
I saw you brothers, heroes, leaders, friends?

Tim.
Oh mother, that thou shalt not gain thy wish,
I swear to thee it shall not rest with me.