University of Virginia Library

ACT V.

Scene:The Forum. At the back of the scene on the right, the doorway of the Basilica, or Court of Justice, a vast building of the Ionic order. Farther to the left, the temple of Jupiter, of the Corinthian order. A mixed crowd of Citizens, Soldiers, Freedmen, Slaves, etc., discovered, waiting to hear the result of the trial of Glaucus. Enter Dudus. Burbo appears at the door of the Basilica.
Bur.
Sentence is passed.

All.
What sentence?

Bur.
Instant death.

All.
Huzza! [Enter Stratonice from the Basilica, and advances]


Stra.
What are you howling at? I'll bet
In aurea, one to ten on Glaucus.

1st. Cit.
How?
What is the sentence?

Stra.
That he be exposed,
In the arena, to the lion.

1st Cit.
What,
Bound hand and foot?

Stra.
Gods, no!

1st Cit.
Armed then?

Stra.
Somewhat;
With the same stylus that the liars say
He did the murder with. Oh, we shall have
A royal fight. I'll make it one to seven
On Glaucus.

Dud.
That he kill the beast?

Stra.
No, no;
But that the beast do not kill him.

1st Cit.
I take it.

Dud.
I'll give you that ten times.

1st Cit.
Agreed.

Bur.
[Advances]
Hey, now,
How is the betting?

Dud.
One to seven on Glaucus.

Bur.
I'll back the lion—

Stra.
[Taking him by the ear]
No, you'll back yourself.
I'll teach you, you born ass, to bet against
My luck!—I'll teach you! [Shakes him]


Bur.
I am taught. I'll bet
Ten aurea on the Greek.

1st Cit.
How?

Bur.
Even money.

All Cit.
Taken.

Stra.
You wretched idiot, be still!
You have swept the odds from under me. Ye gods,
Was ever a woman cursed so in a husband?
Go to your pots; get drunk; do anything,
But throw our money in these sharpers' teeth.

[Retires with Burbo.
Enter from the Basilica, Clodius and Sallust]
All.
Room for the Senators!

Sal.
[Advancing with Clodius and Dudus]
This was sharp work.

Clod.
A mockery of Roman justice. I
Am too indignant at the Praetor's course,
At his indecent haste, and obvious bias
Against poor Glaucus, that I needs must be
A passionate counsellor.

Sal.
Justice, you say!
There was no law, no decent form of law,
Observed or thought of. By the huckster's god,
Winged Mercury, it made me sick to know
Such antics could be played in Italy.

Clod.
Yes, and ere Glaucus' orator could well
Get seated, ere his chair was warm, by Jove,
Out came the sentence—death, immediate death
In the arena, by the lion's jaws.
Sallust, we noblemen must look to this.
'Tis an attack upon our class. The rank
Of Glaucus gave him right, I think,
Of trial by the Senate.

Sal.
How that dark demon, the Egyptian, grinned
When all was over; how his evil eyes
Sparkled and kindled, as though hell had struck
A recent fire within them. There was more
Than a mere triumph in that glance. By Jove,
I should not wonder, if the truth were known,
That this Arbaces struck the blow himself.

Dud.
I will bet one to two that you are right.
Fie! our dear Glaucus an assassin! No;
No man of his refinement could be that.
No man that wore the toga as he did,
With such a presence, such a royal air,
Could be a vulgar murderer. Alas!
Who'll set the fashions in Pompeii now?
It is a public loss.

Sal.
Poor Dudus! Each
Has his own spring of tears at Glaucus' fate.

Dud.
Did you observe him in his prison garb—
That dirty woollen skirt, unshaved, unkempt?
Among the gold and purple throng, he seemed
The only king.

Clod.
Sallust, that thought of yours,
Which lays the murder on Arbaces' hands,
Should be considered carefully.

Dud.
The mob,
Those knaves behind us, have already got
That fancy in their brains. I heard a rogue
Just out of prison—one who ought to know
Crime by inspection—swear he'd go to death,
If yon Arbaces had not killed a man
Within a week; he saw it in his eye.

Clod.
Even Glaucus did not hint at that.

Dud.
Not he:
He is too noble to accuse a foe
On mere suspicion.

Sal.
Think of this: the priests
Of Isis and they only, had a motive
To kill Apaecides; if it be true
That he adjured their faith, and had declared
Their mysteries, mummeries, and their oracles
And miracles but specious tricks. Then he
Had a wild story of the filthy things
Done in Arbaces' house, on the pretext
Of worship to his goddess. Who but he,
This foreign quack, had motive for the deed?

Clod.
Oh, for an hour with Titus!

Sal.
He, alas!
Is on the sea, half way to Syria
Ere this; and Glaucus' doom will be enforced
This very day, this very hour, unless
The Praetor, suddenly should show himself
Less of a brute than the half-famished beast
That waits our poor friend's coming.

Dud.
Look you, now!
You are so solemn over Glaucus' fate,
Forget not that long stylus in a hand
As strong as Hercules! What if he kill
The lion, as he may do?

Clod.
Then the cross
Awaits him, that was in the sentence too.

Sal.
By Jove, it shall not! If he slay the lion
The people will be with him to a man;
And I will organize the mutiny.
And head it too, with voice, and arm, and sword,
But he shall be set free.

Dud.
I'll second you.

Clod.
O Senator!—

Sal.
“O Senator!” I was
A man before I was a senator.
Heaven grant, I be that till I make an end
Worthy my manhood!

Clod.
Come, come; let us talk
Among the people; set this matter up,
And see what taste they have for your exploit.
Hell help the Praetor, if we get the mob
Once on his heels!

Sal.
O Senator!

Clod.
Bah, man!
You set my blood on fire. Look to yourself,
If it consume your house. I love our Glaucus,
As dearly as I love my eldest boy,
His namesake.

Dud.
Look, look there! Oh, shame!

Cits.
Huzza! [Enter, from the Basilica, Glaucus guarded by Lictors, the edges of their axes turned toward him, followed by the Praetor, leaning on Arbaces' shoulder. Officers, Guards, etc. Some people hiss and groan]


Prae.
I have been told there is, among the mob,
A rumor, prince, that you have saved your life
By testifying against a guiltless man.
I'll show the beggars what I think of them
And their opinions.

Arb.
My gracious lord!

Prae.
Shackle the prisoner. Will you let the wretch
Walk free, and thus invite him to escape? [Lictors place heavy chains on Glaucus]

So let him drag his prison to the ring,
And face the justice of the lion's jaws.

Clod.
Sorrow on sorrow! [Enter lone in disorder, followed by Attendants, etc. She bursts through the Lictors. Throws herself on his breast]


Ione.
Glaucus!

Glau.
My beloved,
Have you come here, to make life dear again?
Ah, this I hoped that you would spare yourself;
Sweet as it is to me, to turn my eyes,
For the last time, upon my guiding star,
That made my life so beautiful, and tuned
The smallest pulse that beats within my frame
To that eternal harmony which holds
Heaven stable, and secures the blessed gods
Their own unbroken calm.

Ione.
O, love, to die
Thus sheltered in your arms! to lapse away,
As if from dream to dream, without a shock,
And leave this misery, with my dust, behind,
Buried with it among earth's other ills!
I have no fear. You men, when you esteem
Death nobler than intolerable life,
Pause not to lay your fate-defying hands
Upon the source of being. Why should we,
Poor women, weaker and less resolute
To cope with fate, not follow where you lead?

Glau.
Life is a trust from Heaven; 'tis not for us
Rashly to squander that which is not ours,
But a confided treasure of the gods.
Let them resume their bounty when they will;
We must not dare forestall them, nor decide
Whether their gift we value less or not.
Ione, live to vindicate my fame;
To see at last the light of truth break through
The darkness which surrounds me; to see time
Set his broad seal upon my innocence.
And mourn somewhat regretfully, I trust,
Above my outraged memory.

Ione.
O Glaucus,
This is the very tyranny of grief.
My heart rebels against it, like a slave
O'ertasked, that must perform some desperate act,
Or break, or break! What shall I do?

Glau.
Endure,
Endure like me.

Ione.
Oh! if you loved yourself
With half the love I bear you, it would seem
Folly to meet the torrent of my heart
With temperate counsel. But a gleam of hope
Still lights the future.

Glau.
All we hope or fear
Is locked in that mysterious future.

Ione.
Nay;
Until your trial, Glaucus—

Glau.
That is past.

Ione.
What?

Glau.
Yes; and you must nerve yourself to bear
Ruthless necessity.

Ione.
Oh, speak! The court
Has not passed sentence on you yet?

Glau.
Even so.

Ione.
That was the meaning of your pity then
Towards me, poor me, forgetful of yourself.
Fool that I am: I might have known as much.
Tell me, before I go quite mad, or die
Here at your feet. The sentence?—

Glau.
Death.

Ione.
Death, death!—
Surely you try my fortitude—not death!

Glau.
What else could justice measure out to guilt,
For such a crime?

Ione.
But you are innocent.
To know you merely, is to know that well.

Glau.
Noblest of womankind, your faith in me,
Condemned of others for your brother's death,
Lightens the burden of this earthly life,
Which I must bear a little further on;
And, with its prophet hand, unfolds the gates
Of Heaven before me—

Ione.
Glaucus, tell me all.
I waver on the verge of madness. Speak!

Cits.
On to the lion with him!

Ione.
What was that?

Glau.
The people whom I loved, and helped at need,
Have grown impatient. By the Praetor's doom,
I am condemned to be exposed today
In the arena, to a lion.

Ione.
No!
It cannot be that all the gods are dead:
There is some justice yet in Heaven. Man, man—
Or monster rather—

[To the Praetor]
Glau.
Peace, Ione, peace!
Do not degrade yourself and me with words
Of prayer or imprecation to that man—
That puppet of Arbaces' brutish will.
Speak rather to the lion I must meet,
As to a noble creature.

Ione.
Gracious gods.
I am so dazed with horror, that my brain
Seems to refuse to see things as they are;
And, like the moth about a deadly light,
Its coming ruin, chases round and round
Wild fancies in insane bewilderment.
Is this you, Glaucus? and am I Ione?
It cannot be that we, of yesterday,
Were what we are today. Awaken me
From the dark trance, that, like benumbing death,
Is settling on my soul.

Glau.
Benignant Heaven,
Spread a kind torpor, like an opiate,
Over her tortured senses! There will be
Time in the bitter future for her heart
To feel its chastening, and to understand
Your now secreted purpose.

Prae.
End the farce
Between the felon and this blinded girl.
We have been too indulgent.

Arb.
[Apart to Praetor]
Nay, my lord;
The desperation of her present state,
Will work for me hereafter. Fair Ione [advancing]
,
My ward, my child, if ever you had need
Of a protector it is now. My heart
Bleeds for your painful posture. Turn to me,
With your old confidence, I pray—

Glau.
Begone,
You triple murderer, you incarnate hell,
Or I will brain you with my shackles!

Ione.
Off!
Your touch would be pollution. Hire yourself
As headsman or assassin, for the pay
Your deeds may bring you! Never, while yon Heaven
Looks on the world, with meaning in its face,
Shall you see aught of me. [Arbaces returns to the Praetor]


Arb.
My lord, I pray
That you will save this damsel from herself.
She is unfit, as you have seen, to care
For her own interests. Give her to my charge.

Glau.
O Heaven, the misery of any death
Were bliss to this!

Prae.
Arbaces, take the maid
Back to your wardship.

Clod.
[From among the crowd]
I protest against
This tyranny.

Prae.
How, insolent! Who dares
Question my will?

Clod.
[Advancing]
A senator from Rome.

Sal.
Backed by another. Praetor though you be,
If you dare venture to impose restraint
Upon a free-born citizen, whose years
Place her beyond all tutelage, we'll make
The wondering capital ring long and loud
With fury at your act. [The crowd cheers]


Prae.
O, well, my lords,
If you will answer for the maiden's weal—

Clod.
To Caesar, not to you.

Prae.
Then take the girl.
I could not give her into better hands.
But mark you, lords, you are responsible.

Clod.
Yes, with our heads, that she shall come and go
As suits her fancy, and the liberty
The state accords her.

Prae.
[To Ione]
And are you content
That these two honorable and gracious lords
Shall care for you?

Ione.
Consign me where you will.
I am the slave of sorrow; how I drudge
Through the brief remnant of my doleful life
Concerns me not.

Arb.
Destruction be your lot
You meddling marplots! [Aside]


Glau.
But a while ago,
I thought that friendship had abandoned me,
And, like the Alpine climber, I was hemmed
On every side in hard and icy hearts.
Now Clodius, and now Sallust, you shall see
Your old companion front the lion's glare
With smiles upon his lips; and in his soul
Such bounteous thanksgiving to you both
As the worn mother stammers to the gods,
When her new-born lies sobbing at her side.
I have but this to say, to tell you all:—
I thank you more, a thousandfold, brave men,
Than if your courage had redeemed my life.
Take my Ione from my grateful hands,
My chiefest treasure, and the world's alike.
But show to her the scrupulous regard
Due to the widow of a friend, and I
Will tire the gods for blessings on your heads.
Farewell!

Clod.
O Glaucus, must I be a child
A second time?

Glau.
Dear Sallust!

Sal.
If my life
Could ransom yours?

Glau.
Ione, come to me.
Darling, I do believe, as I believe
In nothing else, man's spirit cannot die.
Death is no ill: a universal lot
Cannot be evil. Do you mark me, love?
Heaven knows with what a sorrow I renounce—
As something sweeter than my life deserved—
The golden prospect which our union
Opened before us. Join your hand with mine.
Here, on the verge of earth, before the gods,
I take you for eternity to be
My wedded wife. Earth scants us of our rights;
But to the long endurance of the soul,
And its deep capabilities of bliss,
Time and this life are but little drops
That fall into a boundless sea. You hear?

Ione.
Perhaps—I think I do—O Glaucus—

Glau.
Nay,
These words are for your memory. When the world
Looks dark about you, and the Heaven above
Seems but reflecting back its hopeless ills,
Oh, murmur not at what is hidden from you!
Remember, too, that through the darkest cloud,
The spirit's eyes can penetrate; that love
Is the supreme and only law of all—
Of every thing, whether in Heaven or earth—
The Power above has fashioned in accord
With his own being. I shall watch o'er you,
Follow you, guard you, whisper to your heart
That I await you, though your days on earth
Outnumber Nestor's. Oh, remember!

Ione.
Glaucus!
I cannot part from you. They will not dare
Tear you away from my entwining arms.
Gods of my fathers, hear me! You are just:
You will not look upon this awful deed,
That drags to unjust death a guiltless man,
While the blood-guilty flourish, and defy
You to your faces! [Cries without of “Glaucus! Glaucus!” Enter hastily, and in disorder, Nydia, followed by Lydon, and other Gladiators, supporting Calenus, ill-clad, suffering, and scarcely recognizable]


Nyd.
Glaucus—Glaucus! Heart,
Stand still, until he answer me!

Glau.
My child!

Nyd.
Now break, my heart, my mad tumultuous heart,
Break when you will, and tell the whole world why;
For I have saved him! This is you indeed,
My lord, my king! This is your hand, your—gods!
These are a felon's chains! Off, off with them!
And pile them, mountain high, upon that wretch—
That cursed wizard, murderer, perjurer—
That all that's evil in a single word—
Arbaces!

Prae.
Girl, you have forgot yourself.
This fierce, indecent noise is out of place,
Here, in this presence.

Nyd.
“In this presence,” ha!
For once I thank you for my blindness, Heaven!
It is a blessing that I cannot see
“This presence,” as you call it. Lydon, men,
Bring forth the witness! [Calenus supported by Lydon and others, advances]


Arb.
Hound of hell, he lives!
His death, and not his torture, was my need—
Shortsighted vengeance! [Aside]


Prae.
Witness? and of what?

Nyd.
The murder of Apaecides.

Prae.
That case
Is settled, and the murderer is judged,
Sentenced, and now awaits his doom.

Clod.
And you
Refuse to hear a witness, by whose word
The guiltless may be saved! Is this your law
And you its lawyer? Then, by all the gods,
A curse upon the law and all its tribe!

Sal.
You dare not for a quibble, for a form,
Deny us justice? In a cause like this,
It is not Glaucus only, but the world
That claims a right.

Prae.
It is too late, my lord.

Clod.
It cannot ever be too late for man
To do man justice. Hear, I pray, this man,
Who totters on the sharp and downward edge
Of his own grave. From him we may expect,
So solemn is his station, truth at least.

All Cits.
Hear him! By Jove, he shall be heard!

Prae.
Then speak.

Arb.
My lord, the law has no safe path to tread,
Save by those forms which the united will
Of ages of man's wisdom have imposed
Upon her careful steps. But set that by.
That wretch before you, asking to be heard,
Is a mere thief, who robbed my treasury;
And by myself was prisoned in my house,
Awaiting the convenience of the law
To be arraigned. Besides, my followers,
Some of whom stand behind me, at the first
Held him to be the murderer of my ward,
And so to me denounced him. Call my slaves,
And put them to the torture. They will tell
Nothing but what I say.

All Cits.
Oh, silence him!
Let us hear old Calenus! Speak out, man!

Prae.
[Apart to Arbaces]
I cannot stem this torrent.

Arb.
[Apart to him]
Then I drown.

Prae.
[Apart to him]

Not yet: another struggle. [To Calenus]
Who are you?

Cal.
Calenus is my name.

Prae.
A priest of Isis?

Cal.
Once; but not so henceforth.

Prae.
Arbaces, then,
Is your high priest, and to the sacred law
You are responsible, but not to me.
I have no jurisdiction in this case,
My lords. [To Clodius and Sallust]


Clod.
The law of Rome doth recognize
No such high priest nor worship; interdicts
The consecration of a temple, built
To Isis, throughout Italy; and hence
Her worshipers must style her den a house,
But not a temple. All of which you know;
Or solemn edicts, by the Senate passed,
Are passed to little purpose.

Prae.
[To Arbaces]
Foiled again!
Well, if it be resolved that I shall hear
The testimony of a common thief,
And weigh it with the clear, impartial words
Pronounced by Prince Arbaces; as we know,
A reputable man, of royal birth—

Cits.
That's to be seen.

Bur.
Yes, and the lion waits
For somebody—and to decide my bets.

Prae.
It is a violation of all law,
After a sentence passed, and—

Cits.
Curse your law!
Let us have justice!

Prae.
[To Calenus]
Tell your story, man!

Cal.
Oh! I am very weak, I have not had
A bit of bread—since when?—It seems an age:
And I am old besides. He meant to starve
My life out; that is plain enough—

Prae.
Go on!
Your maunderings tire us. Swear to what you say.

Cal.
About the gods my mind is somewhat mixed: [Raises his hand]

I know so much about them. To be safe,
I swear by all the gods of all the lands,
On which the sun shines, that what I may say
Shall be the simple truth. Will that oath do?
If not, propose another. I will swear
As fast as you propose.

Prae.
Old ribald cease!
Your oaths were empty howsoe'er you swear.

Cits.
Tell us about the murder!

Cal.
That I saw.
I saw the blow; I heard the angry words
That went before, and all that followed it.

Clod.
Who struck the blow?

Cal.
Arbaces.

Prae.
Monstrous!
This knave endeavors to avoid the guilt
And penalty of theft by perjury;
Swearing away the character and life
Of a most honorable man. For shame!

Cits.
Arbaces to the lion!

Arb.
Filthy brutes,
Blind with the blackness of your ignorance,
Arbaces flings defiance at your heads! [Praetor waves his hand. Trumpets sound. Enter a body of soldiers whose presence overawes the people]


Prae.
The story is incredible to us—
A bald, crude statement, unsustained by facts;
A mere denunciation, without show
Of circumstances to back it.

Cits.
Hear him out.

Prae.
I have heard enough. On with the prisoner—
The true and law-convicted criminal—
To the arena with him!

Cits.
No, no, no!
Arbaces to the lion!

Prae.
March!

Glau.
One word.
A few brief words is all the grace I ask.

Prae.
No!

Glau.
Not to you shall I address myself,
Not to the pitying people, whom I thank
For the wild justice they would execute.
I reverence the law, and if the law
Rightly condemns me, I have nought to say.
That point your lordship must hereafter clear
With Titus Caesar, my imperial friend.

Clod.
[To the Citizens]
See how the villain pales!

Sal.
Thank Heaven, there is,
Even in this world, a punishment for crime!

Cits.
Let Glaucus speak!

Prae.
I would not lose your love,
Good people, by opposing your desires:
So, if you will, the criminal may speak
For the last time.

Clod.
[To Sallust]
The wretched demagogue!

Glau.
It gives me pleasure, at the last, to find
Reason to thank your lordship.

Sal.
Clodius,
That hit and stung.

Glau.
Not for myself, I speak.
This life of mine, this fickle, transient breath,
Was given, and may be taken by the gods,
At their good pleasure. For my fellow man,
On the broad ground of justice, and for her,
This tender creature, clinging to my life
In desperate silence, who was almost mine
By the fair rights of marriage.—

Ione.
Glaucus!—

Nyd.
Woe,
Woe to the land that lets this crime be done
Before insulted Heaven!

Glau.
It is to you.
Romans, to you, Ione, whose hard fate
It is to be a widow ere my hand
Unloose your maiden fillet, that I owe
The duty of preserving you a life,
Whose taking would be shameful guilt to you,
Ye Roman citizens, and to my bride
A lifelong loss, a lifelong misery.
'Tis said, perhaps 'tis fabled, that I am
Descended from the ancient gods of Greece:
If it be so, my fathers, in your sight
I lift my guiltless hands, thus manacled,
And call on you, great Glaucus of the seas,
Seated in power upon Olympian heights,
For heavenly justice, here to counterpoise
This manifest injustice of mankind!

Nyd.
Woe to the land! I hear the gods descend!
Earth trembles at their footsteps!

Glau.
Prophetess!
Look, where my fathers light the dreadful fires
Of their forgotten altar! Bow, and die! [Flames and dense smoke bursts from Vesuvius. Loud rumbling sounds are heard. The columns of the temples reel and fall. The arch and cornice of the Basilica fall upon Arbace; and the Praetor. The people flee in every direction. A tremendous din, and crash of falling buildings goes on, while Glaucus, supporting Ione, Clodius, Sallust, Lydon supporting Calenus, and others, group together. As the darkness descends upon the scene, amidst tumult, Nydia is seen in advance of the group—leading them off. The darkness becomes total; and as it clears away, a large trireme is discovered putting to sea, containing Glaucus, Ione and their friends. Nydia is seated at the bow, a harp in her hands, singing]


Nyd.
Row mariners, row to the land of my love!
Spread forth your white sails, like the wings of the dove!
Bend, bend to the oar! for the god of the sea
Would know that his son is as spotless and free
As the fame of the goddess, now reigning in peace
O'er the land of her love, over beautiful Greece!