University of Virginia Library

ACT IV.

A Court of the Regia: wings of the royal palaces to right & left, surrounded by a portico that continues along a terrace at the back, commanding through the columns a view of the Capitol & part of the Roman Forum. It is a starry night. Bands of slaves with torches, crowns of flowers & instruments, followed by dancing-girls & beautiful cup-bearers enter the house on the left, but after a while return & hang about the portico.
(Eclectus enters from the house on the right.)
ECLECTUS.
Shall I dismiss the troop, or let them tarry,
Vain garlands on the night? Our feast is made;
The Emperor lies oblivious.

GLAPHYRUS.
(At a distance.)
Does he come,
Our Hercules?

ANNIA.
(Approaching.)
What news, grave chamberlain?
'Tis noised he will salute the Roman year
An outcast, such as we.

ECLECTUS.
It needs your lips,
Wanton, to breathe such sacrilege.

GLAPHYRUS.
Ah, ah!
As we!

MNEME AND OTHERS.
As we!

ECLECTUS.
But, silence!—or you go,
The bevy of you, to sharp punishment.
(They shrink back; a shape joins them.)
Who comes?

GLAPHYRUS.
My lord, it is Aurelius Ilyx
To wrestle with Narcissus.

(Enter Narcissus.)
NARCISSUS.
I believed
The banquet done, the violet-liquors tasted,
My match with Ilyx close.

ECLECTUS.
So spectrelike
Grows the long preparation hour by hour
For one that does not come! Ilyx, Narcissus,
Go up into the Emperor's ante-room;
He is besotted and may need your help
To reach the feast (apart)
, and she is there alone.
I send a guard.
(Exit Narcissus & Ilyx to the right; the revellers laugh together & sing low in the distance.)
(Eclectus, left alone, turns to Orion.)
Star of Osiris, hear!
Fix the great gulf of inability
Between my heart and hope. There is no peace
Like that when hope is exorcised, no guilt
Like that if hope be treason. Pure, white way
Of stars above my head, along such path
I would attain my happiness! Yet even
The stars involve me in disloyalty,
Seeming to promise what I most desire.
(Enter Marcia down the steps to the right, leading the dwarf Gabba.)
Marcia, I pace this threshold at your will.
Give me command.

MARCIA.
From Chaos I am come,
And in despair.

ECLECTUS.
Shall I dismiss that troop?

MARCIA.
Oh, nothing may be done.

ECLECTUS.
The Emperor sleeps?

MARCIA.
With brutal interlude. Take Gabba off;
He is a child and helpless.

(Eclectus leads the dwarf to the portico & returns.)
ECLECTUS.
You look weary.

MARCIA.
The din of the arena in my ears.

ECLECTUS.
Then he is mad?

MARCIA.
No, for his head is pillowed.
He lies a victim,
Bewildered by the gods—So Pylades
Interprets, so it seems.

ECLECTUS.
The pantomime
Is then your fellow-watcher?

MARCIA.
Tricked as Paris,
Waiting to dance. O gods, what do we wait?
What is the issue? Is that city Rome?
(Rubbing her eyes.)
If I could sleep a little!

ECLECTUS.
I will watch.

MARCIA.
Here, at the threshold.

ECLECTUS.
I am chamberlain.

MARCIA.
And I . . . Oh, leave these titles!

(Exit.)
ECLECTUS.
How forlorn
She passes from me; yet this faithfulness
To the great injured madness that we serve
Imprints me hers for ever.
Will he waken?
Will he go down to yonder prison-house?
The night is drawing closer.
(With a gesture of imprecation toward the valley.)
O that spot!
I dread it as a tomb. My Emperor there,
Facing the light
Of time and in futurity's fresh dew!
Something will intercept. It is forbidden
That this law-guarded city, built so slow,
Encrusted with such dust, hoarding such treasure,
Should be so rifled of itself and by
Its inmate and its god.
(Enter Pylades from the right.)
What, Pylades!
Why comes this dizened pantomime to me?
Your business?

PYLADES.
(Giving a scroll.)
Take this—read!

ECLECTUS.
The Emperor's tablet!

PYLADES.
I found it lying open by his pillow,
Left in forgetful blindness.

ECLECTUS.
And he calls you
His Philocommodus! Take back the scroll
You filched from him, the private commentary
He makes on each day's circumstance. Begone!

(He tosses the scroll back.)
PYLADES.
You will not read, you will not take this knowledge.
Fool, I would have you perish, ah, how gladly
Would see you caught in trammels of this gin.
But Marcia!—the swift loss of her! Oh, listen!
You will not read? Then hear! The letters flame
Scarlet before my eyes.
“Marcia”—attend!
Her name is first—“then Laetus, then Eclectus
Shall die to-night, together with the slave
That yesterday heated my bath too hot.”

ECLECTUS.
Give me the scroll.

PYLADES.
I bear it on to Laetus;
So she commanded. Will you still demur?
Within an hour . . . Do you not feel the peril?
My lord will wake with all this unfulfilled,
This desperate, lurking malice in his heart;
And cowering slaves beside him at his motion
Ready to draw caged tigers to his couch,
That emptying his fury he may sleep.
Will you . . . But listen! When she read her name
She covered up her face—thus!—while her tears
Brushed past the single ruby on her hand,
That from its burning dumbness sought to bring
Such passion to the birth as in her blood
Swooned and was secret. Suddenly she read
The tablet further: on the battlefield
Of her wan face peace fell like that the moon
Pours on the angry faces of the dead,
To reconcile them to their new estate
Of unabating quietness. She stretched
The tablet toward me. “Bear it to Eclectus,
And afterward to Laetus.” Then she turned:
I left her brooding on the Emperor's face
With wide, undizzied eyes.

ECLECTUS.
There, take my cloak;
You are half-naked, tremble.

PYLADES.
As I am
For swifter speeding.

(Eclectus runs up the steps to the right. The revellers from the portico surround Pylades & hang on him.)
ANNIA.
Philocommodus!
A lovely Paris, with his Phrygian breeches,
His jewelled ankles, naked, jewelled chest,
And shining mitre; eyes like precious stones,
And hair—Apollo's, when he hid his darts
In his own fleecy locks.

GLAPHYRUS.
But mark Rome's dancer
A cheek like asphodel; a love-sick heart.
Which of our girls has struck the shepherd-boy
With such white pallor? Mneme, Annia?

ANNIA.
Nay,
Only the fragrant wives of senators
Can win a glance from Philocommodus;
Or else the concubine of highest fortune;
Fame is so choice.

PYLADES.
Loose me! I bear a message.
The Emperor's mood is threatening.

ANNIA.
Is he ill?

MNEME.
Or angry? Will he give some dread command
Of massacre or torment?

PYLADES.
None can tell
What may be done to-night or who escape,
If thus you mob me and delay the fleetness
That is alone obedience to his will.

MNEME.
A lie, a lie! The Emperor is asleep,
By yonder quietness over all the house.
You would escape us, proud, mendacious boy!

ANNIA.
Well, if you will not give us smiles, nor words
Of kindness, nor a dance, nor rosy kiss,
You might remember that my throat is bare
Of ornament, my bosom has no gems,
Though white as yours—and softer.

MNEME.
You are lavish:
And a few stones are nothing from your wealth.
'Tis such religion to adore you now
Your shrine is always loaded.

PYLADES.
Will you leave me,
At your own price, these jewels?

MNEME.
Will we go?
Yes, Venus' body, if you give us these.

PYLADES.
(Breaking the string of jewels hanging across his chest.)
There, take them all.

MNEME.
The torches to the ground!
What sapphires! O the blue stars of the sky,
I coveted—now won!

ANNIA.
And this dew-diamond!
Not yours, 'tis mine.

MNEME.
No, mine.

(Exit Pylades.)
GABBA.
High Jove, 'tis mine.

MNEME.
You bunch of roots, no human thing at all,
You claim a jewel, you who have no hands!

GABBA.
I want it all the more, as you will want
A lover when your teeth and hair are gone.
Ha, ha! Your teeth and hair!

ANNIA.
A canticle,
To drive the time along! And Glaphyrus
Shall blow his pipe.

GABBA.
Then sing the famous hunt
Of Calydon, sing how they tracked the boar,
One man and woman, dooming him to death,
One woman, Atalanta.

GLAPHYRUS.
(Holding out a castanet to Mneme.)
Beat the time.
CANTICUM.

GABBA.
They struck, they slew . . . .

(Enter Marcia with Eclectus.)
MARCIA.
Go silently away,
All ye that wait the Emperor. He must sleep.
Disperse your watch, he will not come to-night.
I bid you hence.

ECLECTUS.
(Apart.)
Her voice as from the moon
Falls and enlarges solitude. The troop
Of feasters soon will fade.

VOICES.
We go, we go!

ANNIA.
(In a whisper.)
My castanets!

MNEME.
My garland!
(With a smothered laugh.)
Ilyx, hush,
Be gentle! Glaphyrus no more descants
Breeze-murmurs on his flute.

GABBA.
Good-night! No dreams.
Blest Emperor, no bad dreams!

(They all disappear with their torches. Marcia & Eclectus stand together in the night.)
MARCIA.
The fair-crowned train, the jugglers, the musicians,
His court of beauty, how it passes careless
From dread allegiance into night again.
His pleasures flow away and his life's fashion
Seeks its eclipse and quits him. Is my breath
Destruction? Ah, I grow too terrible
In judgment. God and Time alone should sweep
Existence to the void, a man's past days
And those he has provided for. The deed
We wait to do is tamer sacrilege
Than this we have accomplished—to enforce
That trooping off of strength and gaiety
And shame and all he loves: the rest is compassed
By undiverted purpose.

ECLECTUS.
Cling to that.

MARCIA.
'Tis not from you, I must not learn from you
What shall sustain the hour. Be still, or speak
Of Laetus and his peril, of Narcissus
You won to stay and aid us. But be still.
I think it is enough to hear the sky:
Its darkness sounds and does not start the brain,
Nor set it wincing.
(She gazes up, her hand against her lips.)
Ha, upon my finger
A touch of honey! I can taste it, clean,
Sweet honey from the cup I have just mixed.
Honey! You must not listen. Every word
You let me utter is a throe, a weakness.
Where's Laetus?
Are you weeping?

(She pulls his robe from Eclectus' face.)
ECLECTUS.
No, the stars
Are gone, that's all; the pure, white way of stars.
Can you not let me be! Why should we trouble
To ask each other questions, while the heavens
Are baffling us with sorrow. Come within.

MARCIA.
(Restraining him.)
Not there: You must not pass.
(Eclectus turns back into the shadow, remains motionless & again covers his face.)
I am deserted,
Left with these murder-hands he cannot touch.
But yet, if I desist, we join the shadows
That flaunt across the void. Why should I fear
To take another name of infamy?
For him, for safety of that bowed, black head,
I will be bold, I will bear anything,
Even his eyes when afterward . . .
(Enter Laetus, followed by Pylades.)
O Laetus!
Good Laetus comes, alert to save himself.
Here's courage, here's the aptitude!
(Motioning to Laetus.)
To me!
I thank you for your promptness.

LAETUS.
What is done?
How would you meet this sudden treachery?

MARCIA.
We have command of the whole house. Go forward!
We must not linger. You shall hear our purpose;
It lies as clear before me as a vision
I have but to obey.

ECLECTUS.
(Suddenly turning to Laetus.)
The chamberlain
Must lead you to his bed.

MARCIA.
You keep your office,
You cling to duty as it were a chain:
You cannot know all things are in their season
Most holy, incorrupt.

ECLECTUS.
Give me the torch.
Marcia, there is no haste; we could confer,
For if his sleep have changed him . . .

MARCIA.
Nothing changes
Nor sleep, nor death, nor passing of the years.
(She beckons them to enter before her.)
(Turning, she faces the night.)
One breath of darkness, there! I have no need
Of the approving stars.
I drink the night's cool force, while life and death
Are moving far beneath me. Oh, this air!

(She goes in.)
PYLADES.
What is it she invokes? They pass within;
They are all there, and I am left without,
A pantomime before cloaked Thanatos.
O horrible!
And, oh, most false! Tricked in these gauds as Paris,
I am a pantomime. But there, to him,
Beneath his godlike breathing, I was simply
The lad, the flower. I did not dance to him;
Unmasked and moving up and down the room
I served him and he rested in my motions,
My patron and my god. What have I done?
I am not Hyacinthus any more,
Nor any more beloved. What have I done?
I have betrayed him, and it is my blow;
From me, his Philocommodus, he falls.
. . . Oh, I am winter-cold! It was not thus
I felt in acting, never thus. My patron!
I hate that they should lay him in the dust,
Choke the warm voice for ever. No more praise,
No godlike dances, no more make-believe
That there are heroes in our midst, no gods:
There, there—and all the garlands dropping off!

(Exit within.)
(The darkness has now become complete. For a long interval a soundless hush. Then a single slave with a horn-lantern comes out, followed by Narcissus, & slaves bearing furniture & rolls of carpet from the palace on the right. Pylades follows them. They disappear & the track of the lantern is lost. Again it is dark night. Gradually the burthen of the darkness is lifted, & through thinning obscurity voices are heard.)
FIRST VOICE.
He has departed where he would. 'Tis time
To follow down the cliff. Come, chamberlain,
You must arouse our Emperor from his sleep,
True to your office—ha!
(Laughter is heard.)
A second fall!
Cling to the rock, and caution!

VOICE.
(Within.)
Pylades!

SECOND VOICE.
I cannot thread this darkness, and beside,
You hear, she calls us.

FIRST VOICE.
Leave the concubine;
Rome calls. You have the tablet in your bosom?
Coming at such an hour . . .

VOICE.
(Within.)
Stay, Pylades,
I cannot be alone, you must not leave me.
Narcissus, Pylades!

FIRST VOICE.
Ho, ho! I say,
Coming at such an hour, he well may think . . .
Where are you groping to?

SECOND VOICE.
The light has stirred
Behind that cloud. I would not look at it
Unless I have a patron I can serve
In the unknown wastes of Time.

FIRST VOICE.
But dawn is come.
Hail the New Year.

SECOND VOICE.
No, straight to Pertinax.

(There is unbroken silence; gradually the greyness becomes lighter, the columns loom, & through them the city appears softly wreathed by fillets of mist. Marcia comes from the Palace & moves to the extreme verge of the terrace.)
MARCIA.
They should not all have left me in the darkness,
As though I had no purpose any more.
I grow a ghost and as a ghost most restless
To mingle with the living. In the room
They left me with his gladiator's masque,
And all his rich array. I tried to call them;
I could not, for there were so many names,
And one I must not utter. Pylades
Wept when he helped to muffle him. I think
That I was glad to see him weep; my heart
Was beating like a little shaken dust
Because he had no mourner. All the slaves
Shrank back, but one took up the poison-bowl,
And washed it clean and put it in its place . . .
It was his favourite bowl.
Come back to me,
Eclectus, come!
But I must recollect
That he will visit Pertinax, the palace
Must not be empty; all the little round
Of rule and riot must begin again.
So great is my accomplishing, almost
It seems as there were nothing more to do,
And I would journey very far away.
Ah, but my lover would not! Men so cling
To circumstance, when a great deed is wrought,
They creep about it and with gradual change
Add to it and destroy. But nothing matters
That may befall me now, if I may hear
My name set in his voice, no other word,
My name, and a great fondness.
(Re-enter Narcissus.)
You return?
You shall not haunt the palace. And your hands.
It chokes my breath to see them.

NARCISSUS.
He is laid
Among our own, among the athletes, proud
He should be of his burial.

MARCIA.
He strove:
You did not kill at once.

NARCISSUS.
I struck him down
Before your eyes and in their lustre.

MARCIA.
Hence,
And hide your face!

NARCISSUS.
(Pointing down the valley.)
Why, do you stare so hard
Over our field, our portion? Hecate,
Would you dwell near the murdered blood!

MARCIA.
There, there,
Within that fort. . . . I must look down on it—
There, when they roll the heavy carpets out,
He will be found. His visage always faded
To half-obliteration when he slept.
He will be found, the golden curls pressed flat,
The gilded dust spilt in the weft and woof
Of the heavy wrappings. How he looked at me!
What glazed, disconsolate and patient eyes
He lifted as he drank the poison-cup!
And then your hands. . . .
O Christ, be pitiful!

NARCISSUS.
Do you invoke your God? He was the victim
Of Roman soldiers: step by step they slew.

MARCIA.
The darkness of that Majesty! Begone!
(Exit Narcissus.)
O Christ, belovèd, if I might have taken
Thy body from the cross and washed it clean
And wrapped it in pure linen, I am made
For such low offices and so I love.
Jesu, I do not know Thee any more
After thy burial: but thy blood, thy shame,
Thou meek, unutterable God! I worship,
I never can forsake Thee. Was the valley
Like that, and then the little hill? How wide
The dawn of the New Year, how wide the light!

(Re-enter Eclectus.)
ECLECTUS.
Marcia!

MARCIA.
Belovèd!

ECLECTUS.
Oh, I thought you worshipped.
I would not come between.

MARCIA.
You beckoned me,
You called me and to hail with you the light.

ECLECTUS.
O Erebus, I do not know your gods,
Or what you worship: they are men, are outcasts,
They never have been kings.

MARCIA.
I hail the light;
I turn to Janus and his dozen altars,
I turn to all his months, to all his years.
I do not tremble in this magnitude
Of sweetness: all I wrought was in the name
Of the great darkness that brings forth the sun.

ECLECTUS.
I cannot argue. I have seen his body—
I have to tell you that; 'tis wrung from me
By torture. They had dragged him with a hook.
The Senators had kept him thus exposed
As carrion on the air, but Pertinax
Shed tears and bade that they should bury him
As the good Emperor's son. And after that
The streets grew quieter; a change was shed
Over men's faces. I was born to serve:
Marcia, and I will serve him to the end.

MARCIA.
Ay, the new Emperor?

ECLECTUS.
Will you murder me—
As you have murdered. . . .

MARCIA.
Yes, my Emperor,
Mine on the coins for ever. He is gone.

ECLECTUS.
He writ our fates together on one scroll,
And all his writing was a prophecy.
(Seizing her hand.)
Where shall we go? When last you took my hand
You led me to his bed; but I have left him
Couched yonder in the valley.

MARCIA.
He is gone.

ECLECTUS.
O Marcia, but you are a concubine:
You have seen many pass—
They pass before you as the leaves. My heart
Was fixed on him.

MARCIA.
Would I were in the valley!

ECLECTUS.
With him? Ah, would we were! That is our place.
We have no season in the coming time,
And Janus close the past!

MARCIA.
Nay, we were lovers
In that old time.

ECLECTUS.
Then Janus close the past.

(He strikes his forehead on their clasped hands.)