University of Virginia Library

Scene II.

—A Street in Thebes.
(Enter Charon and Epaminondas.)
Epam.
Stay here a moment, where the space is free.
If I were sure what course the fire would take,
I'd help to kindle it. But oft it chances
That, putting flame unto the rotten wood
And choking brambles, the whole healthful forest
Shall catch the blaze, and perish with the rest.
Yet, in forbearance, there's a point to pause at,
Where to endure, is to deserve the wrong,
And I but ask, is this it?

Charon.
No! that point
Is past already. Not to strike at this,
Were to demand from Heaven a thousand whips
To scourge us hourly. For myself I speak not;—
Their policy,—or fear,—or else pure shame
To strike a neutral,—long and oft confess'd,—
Hath left me yet untouch'd. But, can I see
My friends—my neighbours,—plunder'd—fetter'd—scourg'd—
Put to a felon's death;—their children driven
Helpless to the rude world;—and all for sins
So fine to our dull sense, that, to behold them,
We must look at them through the tyrants' glass:—
Can I, Epaminondas, see these things,
And not risk all to mend them?

Epam.
Or make worse,—
That's the true question. Yet, so bad they are,—
I bid you not forbear:—and, if I still
Keep free of your designs,—'tis but to hold
A power to mediate 'twixt you, should you fail;—
Or, if the struggle waver, bring my sword
And life to help you on. 'Tis the last grain
That bows the strong-knee'd camel;—and one sword
Alighting on an even balanc'd fight,
Shall make the scale go down—What noise is this?

(Shouts are heard.)
Charon.
The Games are going on:—no—they are done;
The people flock this way. There's a new wrestler
From Sparta, who three days hath challeng'd all,
And been the victor. Philip brought him here,
And backs him 'gainst all comers.—Well, my friends,
How has the wrestling ended?

(Enter and pass over the stage several Theban Youths.)
Several voices
(shouting).
Thebes! Thebes! Thebes!

Charon.
What! has the Spartan been thrown down? Stay,
friend—
How has the wrestling ended?

Theban Youth.

Charon,—did'st ever see a child in anger
dash down the toy it had been playing with? Just so our
Theban champion, after amusing himself awhile with his proud
adversary, lifted him up from the earth, and then hurl'd him to
it again.—Such a fall hath not been seen. The Spartan will
never wrestle more:—Philip rages like a whirlwind.

Charon.

Who is this Theban champion?

Theban Youth.

No one knows; some rustic from the
mountains it is thought. There he is, turning the street;
he'll pass this way anon.

[Exit.
(Enter, and pass over, more Theban Youths.)
Several voices
(shouting).
Thebes—Thebes—Thebes—

Epam.
Which is the victor?—let me speak with him.

Theban Youth.
Epaminondas, this is he.

(Enter more Thebans, with the victor, his head crowned with flowers.)
Epam.
And thou
Hast foil'd the boastful Spartan! Thank thee, youth,
For teaching Thebans that they may be foiled;
And in a harder struggle, would they try it.
Come this way, youth, I would a word with thee.

Wrestler.
Go on, my gallant lads,—I'll follow you.

[Exeunt Theban Youths, crying, ‘Thebes—Thebes.’
Epam.
Thou art Pelopidas—deny it not—

Wrestler.
Not I!—no more than thou'rt Epaminondas!
What hath Pelopidas to do in Thebes?

Charon.
Great Jove be merciful! What dost thou here?

Pelop.
Walk through a charnel-house,—and see the tyrants
Make mockery with the bones. 'Tis pleasant, Charon—
We'll jest with theirs anon.

Epam.
Pelopidas!
Art thou gone mad?—Into a public show
To bring thyself,—even in thine enemy's eye.—
Beneath his very beard,—for the poor pride
Of victory o'er a wrestler!

Pelop.
But a Spartan!
'Twas Thebes 'gainst Sparta;—not Pelopidas
Against Opites.—Could I, tamely, hear
In Athens that a fourth time this proud bully,
With Philip at his back, had held the ring—
Defying Thebans in the heart of Thebes?
No—no! I'd gladly reason with thy head,—
But will not break my heart.—There is beside
A greater business on my hand than this.
Charon, I'll call upon you in an hour:—
Be thou there too,—for much I long to clasp
My dear friend to my heart.

Epam.
I fear some eye
May pierce, like mine, through thy disguise.

Pelop.
No—no—
'Tis but to cast this bauble from my head,
(Throws away the crown of flowers)
And I'm a noteless clown.—Were the black snake
To scan me now, he should not know me thus,
Were I resolv'd on't. I threw off disguise,
Looking upon thy face—or even thou
Hadst given, perchance, some oboli for drink
To the stout wrestler.

(Enter Philidas.)
Philidas.
Gentlemen, good-day.
Where be your colours, Charon?

Charon.
We wear none:—
Philip hath ours, and his—more than he likes—
Upon his champion's ribs.

Philidas.
By Jupiter, it was a glorious fling!
Philip hath lost five talents on that throw.
He's in a fever.

Pelop.
Let him lose some blood.

Epam.
(to Pelop.).
Come here, I pray you. (They whisper.)


Philidas.
Charon, who is yon clown
That talks so free of letting Philip blood?

Charon.
You do not know him?

Philidas.
No—and yet, I think—
Is't not the Theban wrestler?—Yea, by Jove!
I'm sure 'tis he. Good Charon, for that fling,
Give him a purse of gold—a heavy one;—
I'll be your debtor for it till to-night—
But name me not:—such gift, in Philip's ear,
Would sound but oddly.

Charon.
I'll remember you.
What!—are you going?

Philidas.
Philip waits for me.
Their bloody scroll still lengthens every day.
Eight more were prick'd for death, but yester-morn;
To-day are four;—and twenty mark'd for fines,
Will crush them to the earth. My heart drops blood
While my unwilling pen records their dooms.
Dolops is mark'd for death: I've given him note,
And he is gone. If you see Merion,
Tell him, his gold, his jewels, and himself,
Were safer in the desert than at Thebes.
I'll call on you at night.

Charon.
Is there aught new?
You were at Athens since I saw you last.

Philidas.
I came back yesterday; and shall unload
My treasures to your ear anon. Take this
For present use.—I saw Pelopidas,
Melon, and Androclides, and the rest.
Their purpose is resolv'd;—their hearts are firm;
They wait but for the time. Another month
Will ripen thought to action. Fare you well.
Commend me to your friend. He seems intent
To learn a fall of that same bone-breaker.

Charon.
Adieu, good Philidas.—Don't fail to-night.

Philidas.
Depend on me.—I' faith an iron fellow!
I've seen him somewhere.

[Exit.
Pelop.
Well:—he knew me not.

Charon.
He says he saw you yesterday.

Pelop.
He did.

Epam.
Pelopidas, you have amaz'd me much.
Let's go with Charon now, and hear the rest.

Pelop.
Go on before then. I'll take this way round
And be with you anon.

Epam.
Walk heedfully.
Remember you're a clown.—

Pelop.
And clowns must walk
With sober step where lords may play the fool.
The clown shall stick to me, fear not. Adieu!

Charon and Epam.
Farewell—farewell!

[Charon and Epam. go out on one side, Pelopidas on the other.