All original dramatic works including 'The Viziers of Bassora', 'Rodogune', 'Perseus the Deliverer', 'Eric' and 'Vasavadutta'.; and works of prose fiction.
All original dramatic works and works of prose fiction. Volume 1: The Viziers of Bassora, Rodogune, and Perseus the Deliverer. Volume II: Eric and Vasavadutta; seven incomplete or fragmentary plays; and six stories, two of them complete.
A Dramatic Romance
ANTIOCHUS, TIMOCLES - twin-brothers, Princes of Syria, sons of Nicanor and Cleopatra.
NICANOR - of the royal house, general-in-chief of the Syrian armies.
THOAS, LEOSTHENES - Greek nobles of the Kingdom of Syria, generals of its armies.
PHAYLLUS - an official, afterwards Minister of Timocles.
PHILOCTETES - a young Greek noble of Egypt, friend of Antiochus.
MELITUS - a Court official.
CALLICRATES - a young Greek noble of Syria.
THERAS - a gentleman in waiting.
AN EREMITE.
CLEOPATRA - an Egyptian princess, sister of the reigning Ptolemy, Queen of Syria; widow successively of King Nicanor and his brother Antiochus.
RODOGUNE - a princess of Parthia, prisoner in Antioch.
EUNICE - daughter of Nicanor.
CLEONE - sister of Phayllus, in attendance on the Queen.
MENTHO - an Egyptian woman, nurse of Antiochus.
ZOŸLA - an attendant of Cleopatra.
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Antioch. The Palace; a house by the sea.
The Palace in Antioch; Cleopatra's antechamber.
Cleone is seated; to her enters Eunice.
CLEONE Always he lives!
EUNICE No, his disease, not he. For the divinity that sits in man From that afflicted body has withdrawn,— Its pride, its greatness, joy, command, the Power Unnameable that struggles with its world: The husk, the creature only lives. But that husk Has a heart, a mind and all accustomed wants, And having these must be,—O, it is pitiful,— Stripped of all real homage, forced to see That none but Death desires him any more.
CLEONE You pity?
EUNICE Seems it strange to you? I pity. I loved him not,—who did? But I am human And feel the touch of tears. A death desired Is still a death and man is always man
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Although an enemy. If I ever slew, I think 'twould be with pity in the blow That it was needed.
CLEONE That's a foolish thought.
EUNICE If it were weakness and delayed the stroke.
CLEONE The Queen waits by him still?
EUNICE No longer now. For while officiously she served her lord, The dying monarch cast a royal look Of sternness on her. "Cease," he said, "O woman, To trouble with thy ill-dissembled joy My passing. Call thy sons! Before they come I shall have gone into the shadow. Yet Too much exult not, lest the angry gods Chastise thee with the coming of thy sons At which thou now rejoicest."
CLEONE Where is she then Or who waits on her?
EUNICE Rodogune.
CLEONE That slave! No nobler attendance?
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EUNICE I think I hear the speech Of upstarts. Are you, Cleone, of that tribe?
CLEONE I marvel at your strange attraction, Princess, You fondle and admire a statue of chalk In a black towel dismally arranged!
EUNICE She has roses in her pallor, but they are The memory of a blush in ivory. She is all silent, gentle, pale and pure, Dim-natured with a heart as soft as sleep.
CLEONE She is a twilight soul, not frank, not Greek, Some Magian's daughter full of midnight spells. I think she is a changeling from the dead. I hate the sorceress!
EUNICE We shall have a king Who's young, Cleone; Rodogune is fair. What think you of it, you small bitter heart?
CLEONE He will prefer the roses and the day, I hope!
EUNICE Yourself, you think? O, see her walk! A floating lily in moonlight was her sister.
Rodogune enters.
RODOGUNE His agony ends at last.
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CLEONE Why have you left Your mistress and your service, Rodogune?
RODOGUNE She will not have me near her now; she says I look at her with eyes too wondering and too large. So she expects alone her husband's end And her release. Alas, the valiant man, The king, the trampler of the fields of death! He called to victory and she ran to him, He made of conquest his camp-follower. How He lies forsaken! None regard his end; His flatterers whisper round him, his no more; His almost widow smiles. Better would men, Could they foresee their ending, understand The need of mercy.
CLEONE My sandal-string is loose; Kneel down and tie it, Parthian Rodogune.
EUNICE You too may feel the need of mercy yet, Cleone.
Cleopatra enters swiftly from the corridors of the Palace.
CLEOPATRA Antiochus is dead, is dead, and I Shall see at last the faces of my sons. O, I could cry upon the palace-tops My exultation! Gaze not on me so, Eunice. I have lived for eighteen years With silence and my anguished soul within While all the while a mother's heart in me Cried for her children's eyelids, wept to touch
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The little bodies that with pain I bore. The long chill dawnings came without that joy. Only my hateful husband and his crown,— His crown!
EUNICE To the world he was a man august, High-thoughted, grandiose, valiant. Leave him to death, And thou enjoy thy children.
CLEOPATRA He would not let my children come to me, Therefore I spit upon his corpse. Eunice, Have you not thought sometimes how strange it will feel To see my tall strong sons come striding in Who were two lisping babes, two pretty babes? Sometimes I think they are not changed at all And I shall see my small Antiochus With those sweet sunlight curls, his father's curls, And eyes in which an infant royalty Expressed itself in glances, Timocles Holding his brother's hand and toiling to me With eyes like flowers wide-opened by the wind And rosy lips that laugh towards my breast. Will it not be strange, so sweet and strange?
EUNICE And when Will they arrive from Egypt?
CLEOPATRA Ah, Eunice, From Egypt! They are here, Eunice.
EUNICE Here!
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CLEOPATRA Not in this room, dear fool; in Antioch, hid Where never cruel eyes could come at them. O, did you think a mother's hungry heart Could lose one fluttering moment of delight After such empty years? Theramenes,— The swift hawk he is,—by that good illness helped Darted across and brought them. They're here, Eunice! I saw them not even then, not even then Could clasp, but now Antiochus is dead, Is dead, my lips shall kiss them! Messengers Abridge the road with tempest in their hooves To bring them to me!
EUNICE Imperil not with memories of hate The hour of thy new-found felicity; For souls dislodged are dangerous and the gods Have their caprices.
CLEOPATRA Will the Furies stir Because I hated grim Antiochus? When I have slain my kin, then let them wake. The man who's dead was nothing to my heart: My husband was Nicanor, my beautiful High-hearted lord with his bright auburn hair And open face. When he died miserably A captive in the hated Parthian's bonds, My heart was broken. Only for my babes I knit the pieces strongly to each other, My little babes whom I must send away To Egypt far from me! But for Antiochus, That gloomy, sullen and forbidding soul, Harsh-featured, hard of heart, rough mud of camps And marches,—he was never lord of me. He was a reason of State, an act of policy;
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And he exiled my children. You have not been A mother!
EUNICE I will love with you, Cleopatra, Although to hate unwilling.
CLEOPATRA Love me and with me As much as your pale quiet Parthian's loved Whom for your sake I have not slain.
CLEONE She too, The Parthian!—blames you. Was it not she who said, Your joy will bring a curse upon your sons?
CLEOPATRA Hast thou so little terror?
EUNICE Never she said it!
CLEOPATRA Fear yet; be wise! I cannot any more Feel anger! Never again can grief be born In this glad world that gives me back my sons. I can think only of my children's arms. There is a diphony of music swells Within me and it cries a double name, Twin sounds, Antiochus and Timocles, Timocles and Antiochus, the two Changing their places sweetly like a pair Of happy lovers in my brain.
CLEONE But which
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Shall be our king in Syria?
CLEOPATRA Both shall be kings, My kings, my little royal faces made To rule my breast. Upon a meaner throne What matters who shall reign for both?
Zoӱla enters.
ZOŸLA Madam, The banner floats upon that seaward tower.
CLEOPATRA O my soul, fly to perch there! Shall it not seem My children's robes as motherwards they run to me Tired of their distant play?
She leaves the room followed by Zoӱla.
EUNICE You, you, Cleone! gods are not in the world If you end happily.
RODOGUNE Do not reproach her. I have no complaint against one human creature; Nature and Fate do all.
EUNICE Because you were born, My Rodogune, to suffer and be sweet As was Cleone to offend. O snake, For all thy gold and roses!
RODOGUNE I did not think Her guiltless sons must pay her debt. Account
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Is kept in heaven and our own offences Too heavy a load for us to bear.
Rodogune and Eunice go out.
CLEONE The doll, The Parthian puppet whom she fondles so, She hardly has a glance for me! I am glad This gloomy, grand Antiochus is dead. O now for pastime, dances, youth and flowers! Youth, youth! for we shall have upon the throne No grey beard longer, but some glorious boy Made for delight with whom we shall be young For ever.
(to Phayllus, as he enters)
Rejoice, brother; he is dead.
PHAYLLUS It was my desire and fear that killed him then; For he was nosing into my accounts. When shall we have these two king-cubs and which Is the crowned lion?
CLEONE That is hidden, Phayllus; You know it.
PHAYLLUS I know; I wish I also knew Why it was hidden. Perhaps there is no cause Save the hiding! Women feign and lie by nature As the snake coils, no purpose served by it. Or was it the grim king who'ld have it so?
CLEONE They are in Antioch.
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PHAYLLUS That I knew.
CLEONE You knew?
PHAYLLUS Before Queen Cleopatra. They do not sleep Who govern kingdoms; they have ears and eyes.
CLEONE Knew and they live!
PHAYLLUS Why should one slay in vain? A dying man has nothing left to fear Or hope for. He belongs to other cares. Whichever of these Syrian cubs be crowned, He will be hungry, young and African; He will need caterers.
CLEONE Shall they not be found?
PHAYLLUS In Egypt they have other needs than ours. There lust's almost as open as feasting is; Science and poetry and learned tastes Are not confined to books, but life's an art. There are faint mysteries, there are lurid pomps; Strong philtres pass and covert drugs. Desire Is married to fulfilment, pain's enjoyed And love sometimes procures his prey for death. He'll want those strange and vivid colours here, Not dull diplomacies and hard rough arms. Then who shall look to statecraft's arid needs If not Phayllus?
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CLEONE We shall rise?
PHAYLLUS It is that I came to learn from you. I have a need for growth; I feel a ray come nearer to my brow, The world expands before me. Will you assist,— For you have courage, falsehood, brains,—my growth? Your own assisted,—that is understood.
CLEONE Because I am near the Queen?
PHAYLLUS That helps, perhaps, But falls below the mark at which I aim. If you were nearer to the King,—why, then!
CLEONE Depend on me.
PHAYLLUS Cleone, we shall rise.
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The colonnade of a house in Antioch, overlooking the sea.
Antiochus, Philoctetes.
ANTIOCHUS The summons comes not and my life still waits.
PHILOCTETES Patience, beloved Antiochus. Even now He fronts the darkness.
ANTIOCHUS Nothing have I spoken As wishing for his death. His was a mould That should have been immortal. But since all Are voyagers to one goal and wishing's vain To hold one traveller back, I keep my hopes. O Philoctetes, we who missed his life, Should have the memory of his end! Unseen He goes from us into the shades, unknown: We are denied his solemn hours.
PHILOCTETES All men Are not like thee, my monarch, and this king Was great but dangerous as a lion is Who lives in deserts mightily alone. Admire him from that distance.
ANTIOCHUS O fear and base suspicion, evillest part Of Nature, how you spoil our grandiose life!
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All heights are lowered, our wide embrace restrained, God's natural sunshine darkened by your fault. We were not meant for darkness, plots and hatred Reading our baseness in another's mind, But like good wrestlers, hearty comrades, hearty foes, To take and give in life's great lists together Blows and embraces.
PHILOCTETES A mother's love, a mother's fears Earn their excuse.
ANTIOCHUS I care not for such love. O Philoctetes, all this happy night I could not sleep; for proud dreams came to me In which I sat on Syria's puissant throne, Or marched through Parthia with the iron pomps Of war resounding in my train, or swam My charger through the Indus undulant, Or up to Ganges and the torrid south Restored once more the Syrian monarchy. It is divinity on earth to be a king.
PHILOCTETES But if the weaker prove the elder born? If Timocles were Fate's elected king?
ANTIOCHUS Dear merry Timocles! he would not wish To wear the iron burden of a crown; If he has joy, it is enough for him. Sunshine and laughter and the arms of friends Guard his fine monarchy of cheerful mind.
PHILOCTETES If always Fate were careful to fit in
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The nature with the lot! But she sometimes Loves these strange contrasts and crude ironies.
ANTIOCHUS Has not nurse Mentho often sworn to me That I, not he, saw earth the first?
PHILOCTETES And when Did woman's tongue except in wrath or malice Deliver truth that's bitter?
ANTIOCHUS Philoctetes, Do you not wish me to be king?
PHILOCTETES Why left I then Nile in his fields and Egypt slumbering Couchant upon her sands, but to pursue Your gallant progress sailing through life's seas Shattering opponents till your flag flew high, Sole admiral-ship of all this kingly world? But since upon this random earth unjust We travel stumbling to the pyre, not led By any Power nor any law, and neither What we desire nor what we deserve Arrives, but unintelligible dooms O'ertake us and the travesty of things, It is better not to hope too much.
ANTIOCHUS It is better To lift our hopes heaven-high and to extend them As wide as earth. Heaven did not give me in vain This royal nature and this kingly form, These thoughts that wear a crown. They were not meant
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For mockery nor to fret a subject's heart. Do you not hear the ardour of those hooves? My kingdom rides to me.
He hastens to the other end of the colonnade.
PHILOCTETES O glorious youth Whose young heroic arms would gird the world, I like a proud and anxious mother follow, Desiring, fearing, drawn by cords of hope and love, Admire and doubt, exult and quake and chide. She is so glad of her brave, beautiful child, But trembles lest his courage and his beauty Alarm the fatal jealousy that watches us From thrones unseen.
Thoas and Melitus enter from the gates.
THOAS Are these the Syrian twins?
PHILOCTETES The elder of them only, Antiochus Of Syria.
THOAS Son of Nicanor! Antiochus The high Seleucid travels the dull stream And Syria's throne is empty for his heir.
ANTIOCHUS A glorious sun has fallen then from heaven Saddening the nations, even those he smote. It is the rule of Nature makes us rise Despite our hearts replacing what we love, And I am happy who am called so soon To rule a nation of such princely men. Are you not Thoas?
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THOAS Thoas of Macedon.
ANTIOCHUS Thoas, we shall be friends. Will it be long Before we march together through the world To stable our horses in Persepolis?
He turns to speak to Timocles who has just entered and goes into the house.
MELITUS This is a royal style and kingly brow.
THOAS The man is royal. What a face looks forth From under that bright aureole of hair!
TIMOCLES I greet you, Syrians. Shall I know your names?
MELITUS Melitus. This is Thoas.
TIMOCLES Melitus? Oh yes, of Macedon.
MELITUS No, Antioch.
TIMOCLES It is the same. We talked of you in Alexandria and in Thebes, All of you famous captains. Your great names Are known to us, as now yourselves must be Known and admired and loved.
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MELITUS Your courtesy Overwhelms me; but I am no captain, only The King's poor chamberlain, your servant come To greet you.
TIMOCLES Not therefore less a cherished friend Whose duty helps our daily happiness. Thoas, your name is in our country's book Inscribed too deeply to demand poor praise From one who never yet has drawn his sword In anger.
THOAS I am honoured, Prince. Do not forget Your mother is waiting for you after eighteen years.
TIMOCLES My mother! O, I have a mother at last. You lords shall tell me as we go, how fair She is or dark like our Egyptian dames, Noble and tall or else a brevity Of queenhood. And her face—but that, be sure, Is the sweet loving face I have seen so often In Egypt when I lay awake at night And heard the breezes whispering outside With many voices in the moonlit hours. It is late, Thoas, is it not, a child to see His mother when eighteen years have made him big? This, this is Paradise, a mother, friends And Syria. In our swart Egypt 'twas no life,— Although I liked it well when I was there; But O, your Syria! I have spent whole hours Watching your gracile Syrian women pass With their bright splendid faces. And your flowers, What flowers! and best of all, your sun, not like
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That burning Egypt, but a warmth, a joy And a kind brightness. It will be all pleasure To reign in such a country.
ANTIOCHUS (returning from the house) Let us ride Into our kingdom.
TIMOCLES Antioch in sweet Syria, The realm for gods, and Daphne's golden groves, And swift Orontes hastening to the sea! Ride by me, Melitus, tell me everything.
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Cleopatra's antechamber in the Palace.
Cleopatra, seated; Rodogune.
CLEOPATRA It is their horsehooves ride into my heart. It shall be done. What have I any more To do with hatred? Parthian Rodogune, Have you forgotten now your former pomps And princely thoughts in high Persepolis, Or do your dreams still linger near a throne?
RODOGUNE I think all fallen beings needs must keep Some dream out of their happier past,—or else How hard it would be to live!
CLEOPATRA O, if some hope survive In the black midst of care, however small, We can live, then only, O then only.
RODOGUNE Hope! I have forgotten how men hope.
CLEOPATRA Is your life hard In Syrian Antioch, Rodogune, a slave To your most bitter foemen?
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RODOGUNE Not when you speak So gently. Always I strive to make it sweet By outward harmony with circumstance And a calm soul within that is above My fortunes.
CLEOPATRA Parthian, you have borne the hate My husband's murder bred in me towards all Your nation. When I felt you with my heel, I trampled Tigris and Euphrates then And Parthia suffered. Therefore I let you live Half-loving in your body my revenge. But these are cruel and unhappy thoughts I hope to slay and bury with the past Which gave them birth. Will you assist me, girl? Will you begin with me another life And other feelings?
RODOGUNE If our fates allow Which are not gentle.
CLEOPATRA My life begins again, My life begins again in my dear sons And my dead husband lives. All's sweetly mended. I do not wish for hatred any more. The horrible and perilous hands of war Appal me. O, let our peoples sit at ease In Grecian Antioch and Persepolis, Mothers and children, clasping those golden heads Deep, deep within our bosoms, never allow Their going forth again to bonds and death. Peace, peace, let us have peace for ever more.
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RODOGUNE And will peace take me to my father's arms?
CLEOPATRA Or else detain you on a kingly throne. There are happier fetters.
RODOGUNE If it must be so!
CLEOPATRA Art thou insensible or fearst to rise? I cannot think that even in barbarous lands Any called human are so made that they prefer Serfhood and scourge to an imperial throne. Or is there such a soul?
RODOGUNE Shall I not know My husband first?
CLEOPATRA I did not ask your choice, But gave you a command to be obeyed Like any other that each day I give.
RODOGUNE Shall I be given him as a slave, not wife?
CLEOPATRA You rise, I think, too quickly with your fate. Or art thou other than I saw or thou Feignedst to be? Hast thou been wearing all this while Only a mask of smooth servility, Thou subtle barbarian?
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RODOGUNE Speak not so harshly to me Who spoke so gently now. I will obey.
CLEOPATRA Hop'st thou by reigning to reign over me Restoring on a throne thy Parthian soul?
RODOGUNE What shall I be upon the Syrian throne Except your first of slaves who am now the last, The least considered? I hope not to reign, Nor ever have desired ambitious joys, Only the love that I have lacked so long Since I left Parthia.
CLEOPATRA Obey me then. Remember, The hand that seats thee can again unthrone.
RODOGUNE I shall remember and I shall obey.
She retires to her station.
CLEOPATRA Her flashes of quick pride are quickly past. After so many cruel, black and pitiless years Shall not the days to come conspire for joy? The Queen shall be my slave, a mind that's trained To watch for orders, one without a party In Syria, with no will to take my son from me Or steal my sovereign station. O, they come! Slowly, my heart! break not with too much bliss.
Eunice comes in swiftly.
EUNICE Am I the first to tell you they have come?
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CLEOPATRA O girl, thy tongue rain joy upon the world, That speaks to me of heaven!
Cleone enters.
CLEONE (to Eunice) They are more beautiful than heaven and earth.
(to Cleopatra)
Thy children's feet are on the palace stairs.
CLEOPATRA O no! not of the palace but my heart; I feel their tread ascending. Be still, be still, Thou flutterer in my breast: I am a queen And must not hear thee.
Thoas and Melitus enter bringing in Antiochus and Timocles.
THOAS Queen, we bring her sons To Cleopatra.
CLEOPATRA I thank you both. Approach. Why dost thou beat so hard within to choke me?
She motions to them to stop and gazes on them in silence.
TIMOCLES This is my mother. She is what I dreamed!
EUNICE O high inhabitants of Greek Olympus, Which of you all comes flashing down from heaven To snare us mortals with this earthly gaze, These simulations of humanity?
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CLEOPATRA Say to the Syrians they shall know their king In the gods' time and hour. But these first days Are for a mother.
THOAS None shall grudge them to thee, Remembering the gods' debt to thee, Cleopatra.
Thoas and Melitus leave the chamber.
CLEOPATRA My children, O my children, my sweet children! Come to me, come to me, come into my arms. You beautiful, you bright, you tall heart-snarers, You are all your father.
TIMOCLES Mother, my sweet mother! I have been dreaming of you all these years, Mother!
CLEOPATRA And was the dream too fair, my child? O strange, sweet bitterness that I must ask My child his name!
TIMOCLES I am your Timocles.
CLEOPATRA You first within my arms! O right, 'tis right! It is your privilege, my sweet one. Kiss me. O yet again, my young son Timocles. O bliss, to feel the limbs that I have borne Within me! O my young radiant Timocles, You have outgrown to lie upon my lap: I have not had that mother's happiness.
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TIMOCLES Mother, I am still your little Timocles Playing at bigness. You shall not refuse me The sweet dependent state which I have lost In that far motherless Egypt where I pined.
CLEOPATRA And like a child too, little one, you'ld have All of your mother to yourself. Must I Then thrust you from me? Let Antiochus, My tall Antiochus have now his share.
RODOGUNE He is all high and beautiful like heaven From which he came. I have not seen before A thing so mighty.
ANTIOCHUS Madam, I seek your blessing; let me kneel To have it.
CLEOPATRA Kneel! O, in my bosom, son! Have you too dreamed of me, Antiochus?
ANTIOCHUS Of great Nicanor's widow and the Queen Of Syria and my sacred fount of life.
CLEOPATRA These are cold haughty names, Antiochus. Not of your mother, not of your dear mother?
ANTIOCHUS You were for me the thought of motherhood, A noble thing and sacred. This I loved.
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CLEOPATRA No more? Are you so cold in speech, my son? O son Antiochus, you have received Your father's face; I hope you have his heart. Do you not love me?
ANTIOCHUS Surely I hope to love.
CLEOPATRA You hope!
ANTIOCHUS O madam, do not press my words.
CLEOPATRA I do press them. Your words, your lips, your heart, Your radiant body noble as a god's I, I made in my womb, to give them light Bore agony. I have a claim upon them all. You do not love me?
ANTIOCHUS The thought of you I have loved, Honoured and cherished. By your own decree We have been to each other only thoughts; But now we meet. I trust I shall not fail In duty, love and reverence to my mother.
EUNICE His look is royal, but his speech is cold.
RODOGUNE Should he debase his godhead with a lie? She is to blame and her unjust demand.
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CLEOPATRA It is well. My heart half slew me for only this! O Timocles, my little Timocles, Let me again embrace you, let me feel My child who dreamed of me for eighteen years In Egypt. Sit down here against my knee And tell me of Egypt,—Egypt where I was born, Egypt where my sweet sons were kept from me, Dear Egypt, hateful Egypt!
TIMOCLES I loved it well because it bore my mother, But not so well, my mother far from me.
CLEOPATRA What was your life there? Your mornings and your evenings, Your dreams at night, I must possess them all, All the sweet years my arms have lost. Did you Rising in those clear mornings see the Nile, Our father Nile, flow through the solemn azure Past the great temples in the sands of Egypt? You have seen hundred-gated Thebes, my Thebes, And my high tower where I would sit at eve Watching your kindred sun? And Alexandria With the white multitude of sails! My brother, The royal Ptolemy, did he not love To clasp his sister in your little limbs? There is so much to talk of; but not now! Eunice, take them from me for a while. Take Rodogune and call the other slaves. Let them array my sons like the great kings They should have been so long. Go, son Antiochus; Go, Timocles, my little Timocles.
ANTIOCHUS We are the future's greatness, therefore owe Some duty to the grandeurs of the past.
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The great Antiochus lies hardly cold, Garbed for his journey. I would kneel by him And draw his mightiness into my soul Before the gloomy shades have taken away What earth could hardly value.
EUNICE This was a stab. Is there some cold ironic god at work?
CLEOPATRA The great Antiochus! Of him you dreamed? You are his nephew! Parthian, take the prince To the dead King's death-chamber, then to his own.
ANTIOCHUS She was the Parthian! Great Antiochus, Syria thou leav'st me and her and Persia afterwards To be my lovely captive.
He goes out with Rodogune.
TIMOCLES (as he follows Eunice) Tell me, cousin,— I knew not I had such sweet cousins here,— Was this the Parthian princess Rodogune?
EUNICE Phraates' daughter, Prince, your mother's slave.
TIMOCLES There are lovelier faces then than Syria owns.
He goes out with Eunice.
CLEOPATRA You gods, you gods in heaven, you give us hearts For life to trample on! I am sick, Cleone.
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CLEONE Why, Madam, what a son you have in him, The joyous fair-faced Timocles, yet you are sick!
CLEOPATRA But the other, oh, the other! Antiochus! He has the face that gives my husband back to me, But does not love me.
CLEONE Yet he will be king. You said he was the elder.
CLEOPATRA Did I say it? I was perplexed.
CLEONE He will be king, a man With a cold joyless heart and thrust you back Into some distant corner of your house And rule instead and fill with clamorous war Syria and Parthia and the banks of Indus Taking our lovers and our sons to death! Our sons! Perhaps he will take Timocles And offer him, a lovely sacrifice, To the grim god of battles.
CLEOPATRA My Timocles! my only joy! Oh, no! We will have peace henceforth and bloodless dawns. My envoys ride today.
CLEONE He will recall them. This is no man to rest in peaceful ease While other sceptres sway the neighbouring realms.
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War and Ambition from his eyes look forth; His hand was made to grasp a sword-hilt. Queen, Prevent it; let our Timocles be king.
CLEOPATRA What did you say? Have you gone mad, Cleone? The gods would never bless such vile deceit. O, if it could have been! but it cannot.
CLEONE It must. Timocles dead, you a neglected mother, A queen dethroned, with one unloving child,— Childless were better,—and your age as lonely As these long nineteen years have been. Then you had hope, You will have none hereafter.
CLEOPATRA If I thought that, I would transgress all laws yet known or made And dare Heaven's utmost anger. Gods who mock me, I will not suffer to all time your wrongs. Hush, hush, Cleone! It shall not be so. I thought my heart would break with joy, but now What different passion tugs at my heart-strings, Cleone, O Cleone! O my sweet dreams, Where have you gone yielding to pangs and fears Your happy empire? Am I she who left Laughing the death-bed of Antiochus?
She goes into her chamber.
CLEONE We must have roses, sunlight, laughter, Prince, Not cold, harsh light of arms. Your laurels, laurels! We'll blast them quickly with a good Greek lie. Where he has gone, admire Antiochus, Not here repeat him.
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The Palace in Antioch
A hall in the Palace.
Cleone, Phayllus.
PHAYLLUS Worry the conscience of the Queen to death Like the good bitch thou art. If this goes well, I may sit unobserved on Syria's throne.
CLEONE Do not forget me.
PHAYLLUS Do not forget thyself, Then how shall I forget thee?
CLEONE I shall remember.
PHAYLLUS If for a game you were the queen, Cleone, And I your minister, how would you start Your play of reigning?
CLEONE I would have many perfect tortures made To hurt the Parthian with, for every nerve
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A torture. I would lie in flowers the while Drinking sweet Cyprian wine and hear her moan.
PHAYLLUS I do not like your thought; have better ones.
CLEONE Shall I not satisfy my love, my hate? Then just as well I might not reign at all.
PHAYLLUS O hatred, love and wrath, you instruments By which we are driven! Cleone, the gods use these For their own purposes, not we for ours.
CLEONE I'll do my will, Phayllus; you do yours.
PHAYLLUS Our kingdom being won! It is not, yet.
(turning away)
She's too violent for my calmer ends; Lust drives her, not ambition. I wait on you, You gods who choose. If Fate intends my rise, She will provide the instruments and cause.
Timocles enters from the inner palace.
TIMOCLES I think I am afraid to speak to her. I never felt so with the Egyptian girls In Thebes or Alexandria. Are you not Phayllus?
PHAYLLUS You remember faces well And have the trick for names, the monarch's trick.
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TIMOCLES Antiochus, all say, will be the king.
PHAYLLUS But I say otherwise and what I say Has a strange gift of happening.
TIMOCLES You're my friend!
PHAYLLUS My own and therefore yours.
TIMOCLES This is your sister?
PHAYLLUS Cleone.
TIMOCLES A name that in its sound agrees With Syria's roses. Are you too my friend, Cleone?
CLEONE Your subject, prince.
TIMOCLES And why not both?
CLEONE To serve is better.
TIMOCLES Shall I try your will?
(embracing her)
Thou art warm fire against the lips, thou rose Cleone.
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CLEONE May I test in turn?
TIMOCLES Oh, do!
CLEONE A rose examines by her thorns,—as thus.
She strikes him lightly on the cheek and goes out.
TIMOCLES (looking uncertainly at Phayllus who is stroking his chin) It was a courtesy,—our Egyptian way.
PHAYLLUS Hers was the Syrian. Do not excuse yourself; I am her brother.
TIMOCLES (turns as if to go, hesitates, then comes back) Oh, have you met, Phayllus, A Parthian lady here named Rodogune?
PHAYLLUS Blows the wind east? But if it brings me good, Let it blow where it will. I know the child. She's fair. You'ld have her?
TIMOCLES Fie on you, Phayllus!
PHAYLLUS Prince, I have a plain tongue which, when I hunger, Owns that there is a belly. Speak in your language! I understand men's phrases though I use them not.
TIMOCLES Think not that evil! She is not like those, The common flowers which have a fair outside
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Of beauty, but the common hand can pluck. We wear such lightly, smell and throw away. She is not like them.
PHAYLLUS No? Yet were they all Born from one mother Nature. What if she wears The quick barbarian's robe called modesty? There is a woman always in the end Behind that shimmering. Pluck the robe, 'twill fall; Then is she Nature's still.
TIMOCLES I have seen her eyes; they are a liquid purity.
PHAYLLUS And yet a fish swims there which men call love, But truth names lust or passion. Fear not, prince; The fish will rise to such an angler's cast.
TIMOCLES Mistake me not, nor her. These things are done, But not with such as she; she is heaven-pure And must like heaven be by worship won.
PHAYLLUS What is it then that you desire of her Or ask of me? I can do always much.
TIMOCLES O nothing else but this, only to kneel, Look up at her and touch the little hand That fluttered like a moonlit butterfly Above my mother's hair. If she consenting smiled A little, I might even dare so much.
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PHAYLLUS Why, she's your slave-girl!
TIMOCLES I shall kneel to her Some day and feel her hand upon my brow.
PHAYLLUS What animal this is, I hardly know, But know it is the animal for me: My genius tells me. Prince, I need a bribe Before I'll stir in this.
TIMOCLES What bribe, Phayllus?
PHAYLLUS A name,—your friend.
TIMOCLES O more than merely friend! Bring me into the temple dim and pure Whence my own hopes and fears now bar me out, Then I am yours, Phayllus, you myself For all things.
PHAYLLUS Remember me when you have any need.
He goes out.
TIMOCLES I have a friend! He is the very first Who was not conquered by Antiochus. How has this love like lightning leaped at me!
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The same.
Eunice, Rodogune.
RODOGUNE Heaven had a purpose in my servitude! I will believe it.
EUNICE One sees not now such men. What a calm royalty his glances wield! We are their subjects. And he treads the earth As if it were already his.
RODOGUNE All must be. I have lived a slave, yet always held myself A nobler spirit than my Grecian lords; But when he spoke, O, when he looked at me, I felt indeed the touch of servitude And this time loved it.
EUNICE O, you too, Rodogune!
RODOGUNE I too! What do you mean? Are you, Eunice—
EUNICE I mean, our thorny rose Cleone too Has fallen in love with pretty Timocles.
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RODOGUNE You slanderer! But I thought a nearer thing That ran like terror through my heart.
EUNICE And so You love him?
RODOGUNE What have I said, Eunice? what have I said? I did not say it.
EUNICE You did not say it, no! You lovely fool, hide love with blushes then And lower over your liquid love-filled eyes Their frightened lashes! Quake, my antelope! I'll have revenge at least. O sweet, sweet heart, My delicate Parthian! I shall never have Another love, but only Rodogune, My beautiful barbarian Rodogune With the tall dainty grace and the large eyes And vague faint pallor just like twilit ivory.
RODOGUNE My own Eunice!
They embrace. Phayllus enters.
PHAYLLUS (stroking his chin) I always hated waste.
EUNICE Your steps too steal, Phayllus?
PHAYLLUS I have a message.
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EUNICE I do not like the envoy. Find another And I will hear it.
PHAYLLUS Come, you put me out.
EUNICE Of your accounts? They say there is too much You have put out already for your credit.
PHAYLLUS You're called. The Queen's in haste, Cleone said.
Eunice goes.
Parthian, will you be Syria's queen or no? I startle you. The royal Timocles By your beauty strives ensnared. Don not your mask Of modesty, keep that for Timocles. I offer you a treaty. By my help You can advance your foot to Syria's throne: His bed's the staircase and you shall ascend, Nor will I rest till you are seated there. Come, have I helped you? Shall we be allies?
RODOGUNE You speak a language that I will not hear.
PHAYLLUS Oh, language! you're for language, all of you. Are you not Parthia's daughter? do you not wish To sit upon a throne?
RODOGUNE Not by your help, Nor as the bride of Syrian Timocles. What are these things you speak?
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PHAYLLUS Weigh not my speech, But only my sincerity. I have a tongue Displeasing to all women. Heed not that! My heart is good, my meaning better still.
RODOGUNE Perhaps! But know I yearn not for a throne. And if I did, Antiochus is king And not this younger radiance.
PHAYLLUS That's your reason? You are deceived. Besides he loves you not Nor ever will put on a female yoke. Prefer this woman's clay, this Timocles And by my help you shall have empire, joy, All the heart needs, the pleasures bodies use.
RODOGUNE I need no empire save my high-throned heart, I seek no power save that of sceptred love, I ask no help beyond what Ormuzd gives. Enough. I thank you.
PHAYLLUS You're subtler than these Greeks. Must he then pine? Shall he not plead his cause?
RODOGUNE I would not have him waste his heart in pain If what you say is true. Let him then know This cannot be.
PHAYLLUS He will not take from me An answer you yourself alone can give.
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I think you parry to be more attacked.
RODOGUNE Think what you will, but leave me.
PHAYLLUS If you mean that, The way to show it is to let him come. You feign and do not mean this, or else you would Deny him to his face.
RODOGUNE (flushing angrily) I will; tell him to come.
PHAYLLUS I thought so. Come he shall. Remember me.
RODOGUNE I did not well to bid him come to me. It is some passing fancy of the blood. I do not hear that he was ever hurt But danced a radiant and inconstant moth Above the Egyptian blossoms.
Timocles enters hastily, hesitates, then rushes and throws himself at the feet of Rodogune.
TIMOCLES Rodogune! I love thee, princess; thou hast made me mad. I know not what I do nor what I speak. What dreadful god has seized upon my heart? I am not Timocles and not my own, But am a fire and am a raging wind To seize on thee and am a driven leaf. O Rodogune, turn not away from me. Forgive me, O, forgive me. I cannot help it
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If thou hast made me love thee. Tremble not, Nor grow so pale and look with panic glances As if a fire had clutched thee by the robe. I am thy menial, thy poor trembling slave And thou canst slay me with a passing frown.
RODOGUNE Touch not my hand! 'tis sacred from thy touch!
TIMOCLES It is most sacred; even the roseate nail Of thee, O thou pale goddess, is a mystery And a strange holiness. Scorched be his hand Who dares with lightest sacrilegious touch Profane thee, O deep-hearted miracle, Unless thy glorious eyes condone the fault By growing tender. O thou wondrous Parthian, Fear not my love; it grows a cloistered worship. See, I can leave thee! see, I can retire. Look once on me, one look is food enough For many twelvemonths.
Eunice returns.
EUNICE You wrong your mother, cousin. Her moments linger when you are not there; Always she asks for you.
TIMOCLES My mother! You gods, Forbid it, lest I weary of her love.
He goes.
EUNICE What was this? Speak.
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RODOGUNE Was Fate not satisfied With my captivity? Waits worse behind? It was a grey and clouded sky before And bleak enough but quiet. Now I see Fresh clouds come stored with thunder toiling up From a black-piled horizon.
EUNICE Tell me all. What said Phayllus to you, the dire knave Who speaks to poison?
RODOGUNE He spoke of love and thrones and Timocles; He spoke as selfish cunning men may speak Who mean some evil they call good.
EUNICE And how Came Timocles behind him?
RODOGUNE Called by him, With such wild passion burning under his lids I never thought to see in human eyes. What are these movements?
EUNICE We move as we must, Not as we choose, whatever we may think. Your beauty is a torch you needs must carry About the world with you. You cannot help it If it burns kingdoms.
RODOGUNE I pray it may not. God who only rulest,
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Let not the evil spirit use my love To bring misfortune on Antiochus.
Mentho enters.
MENTHO Which is the Parthian?
EUNICE She.
MENTHO Antiochus Desires you in his chamber with a bowl Of Lesbian vintage.
EUNICE Does he desire? The gods then choose their hour For intervention. Move, you Parthian piece.
RODOGUNE Send someone else. I cannot go.
EUNICE I think You have forgotten that you are a slave. You are my piece and I will have you move. Move quickly.
RODOGUNE Surely he did not speak my name?
MENTHO Why do you fear, my child? He's good and noble And kind in speech and gentle to his servants.
RODOGUNE (low, to herself) It is not him I fear, it is myself.
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EUNICE Fear me instead. You shall be cruelly whipped Unless you move this instant.
RODOGUNE Oh, Eunice!
EUNICE Whipped savagely! I'll sacrifice so much For a shy pawn who will not move? Go, go, And come not back unkissed if you are wise.
She pushes Rodogune to the door and she goes, followed by Mentho.
His heart's not free, nor hers, or else I'ld try My hand at reigning. As the gods choose. Through her I may rule Syria.
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Antiochus' chamber.
Antiochus, with a map before him.
ANTIOCHUS Ecbatana, Susa and Sogdiana, The Aryan country which the Indus bounds, Euphrates' stream and Tigris' golden sands, The Oxus and Jaxartes and these mountains Vague and enormous shouldering the moon With all their dim beyond of nations huge; This were an empire! What are Syria, Greece And the blue littoral to Gades? They are Too narrow to contain my soul, too petty To satisfy its hunger and its vastness. O pale, sweet Parthian face with liquid eyes Mid darkest masses and O gracious limbs Obscuring this epitome of earth, You will not let me fix my eyes on Susa. I never yearned for any woman yet. While Timocles with the light Theban dames Amused his careless heart, I walked aside; Parthia and Greece became my mistresses. But now my heart is filled with one pale girl. Exult not, archer. I will quiet thee With sudden and assured possession first, Then keep thee beating an eternal strain. I have loved her through past lives and many ages. The Parthian princess, lovely Rodogune! O name of sweetness! Renowned Phraates' daughter, A bud of kings,—my glorious prisoner With those beseeching eyes. O high Antiochus,
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Who snatched her from among her guardian spears, Thou hast gone past but left this prophecy Of beautiful conquered Persia grown my slave To love me. It is thou, my Rodogune!
RODOGUNE (with lowered eyes) I have brought the wine.
ANTIOCHUS Thou art the only wine, O Parthian! Wine to flush Olympian souls Is in this glorious flask. Set down the bowl. Lift up instead thy long and liquid eyes; I grudge them to the marble, Rodogune. Thou knowest well why I have sent for thee. Have we not gazed into each other's eyes And thine confessed their knowledge?
RODOGUNE Prince, I am Thy mother's slave.
ANTIOCHUS Mine, mine, O Rodogune, For I am Syria.
RODOGUNE Thine.
ANTIOCHUS O, thou hast spoken!
RODOGUNE Touch me not, touch me not, Antiochus! Son of Nicanor, spare me, spare thyself. O me! I know the gods prepare some death;
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I am a living misfortune.
ANTIOCHUS Wert thou my fate Of death itself, delightful Rodogune, Not, as thou art, heaven's pledge of bliss, I'ld not abstain From thy delight, but have my joy of thee The short while it is possible on earth. O, play not with the hours, my Rodogune. Why should brief man defer his joys and wait As if life were eternal? Time does not pause, Death does not tarry.
RODOGUNE Alas!
ANTIOCHUS Thou lingerest yet. Wilt thou deny the beating of our hearts That call to us to bridge these sundering paces? O, then I will command thee as a slave. Thou wouldst not let me draw thee, come thyself Into my arms, O perfect Rodogune, My Parthian captive!
RODOGUNE Antiochus, my king!
ANTIOCHUS So heave against me like a wave for ever. Melt warmly into my bosom like the Spring, O honied breathing tumult!
RODOGUNE O release me!
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ANTIOCHUS Thou sudden sorceress, die upon my breast! My arms are cords to bind thee to this stake, Slowly to burn away in crimson fire.
RODOGUNE Release me, O release me!
ANTIOCHUS Not till our lips have joined Eternal wedlock. With this stamp and this And many more I'll seal thee to myself. Eternal Time's too short for all the kisses I yearn for from thee, O pale loveliness, Dim mystery! Press thy lips to mine. Obey. Again! and so again and even for ever Chant love, O marvel, let thy lips' wild music Come faltering from thy heart into my bosom.
Rodogune sinks at his feet and embraces his knees.
RODOGUNE I am thine, thine, thine, thine for ever.
She rises and hides her face in her hands.
ANTIOCHUS (uncovering her face) Beloved, Hide not thy face from love. The gods in heaven Look down on us; let us look up at them With fearless eyes of candid joy and tell them Not Time nor any of their dooms can move us now. The passion of oneness two hearts are this moment Denies the steps of death for ever.
RODOGUNE My heart Stops in me. I can bear no more of bliss.
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Oh, leave me now that I may live for thee.
ANTIOCHUS Stay where thou art. Or go, for thou art mine And I can send thee from me when I will And call thee when I will. Go, Rodogune Who yet remain with me.
Rodogune leaves the chamber with faltering steps.
O Love, thou art Diviner in the enjoying. Can I now Unblinded scan this map? No, she is there; It is her eyes I see and not Ecbatana.
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The hall in the Palace.
Timocles, Phayllus.
TIMOCLES O, all the sweetness and the glory gathered Into one smiling life, the other's left Barren, unbearable, bleak, desolate, A hell of silence and of emptiness Impossible for mortal souls to imagine, Much less to suffer. My mother does this wrong to me! Why should not we, kind brothers all our lives,— O, how we loved each other there in Egypt!— Divide this prize? Let his be Syria's crown,— Oh, let him take it! I have Rodogune.
PHAYLLUS He will consent?
TIMOCLES Oh, yes, and with a smile. He is all loftiness and warlike thoughts. My high Antiochus! how could I dream Of taking from him what he'ld wear so well? Let me have love and joy and Rodogune. The sunlight is enough for me.
PHAYLLUS It may be, Yet not enough for both. Look! there he comes Carrying himself as if he were the sun Brilliant alone in heaven. Oh, that to darken!
Antiochus enters.
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TIMOCLES Brother, it is the kind gods send you here.
ANTIOCHUS Dear Timocles, we meet not all the day. It was not so in Egypt. Tell me now, What were you doing all these busy hours? How many laughing girls of this fair land Have you lured on to love you?
TIMOCLES Have you not heard?
ANTIOCHUS What, Timocles?
TIMOCLES Our mother gives the crown And with the crown apportions Rodogune.
ANTIOCHUS Our royal mother? Are they hers to give? I do not marry by another's will.
TIMOCLES O brother, no; our hearts at least are ours. You have not marked, I think, Antiochus, This pale sweet Parthian Rodogune?
ANTIOCHUS (smiling) No, brother? I have not marked, you say?
TIMOCLES You are so blind To woman's beauty. You only woo great deeds And arms imperial. It is well for me You rather chose to wed the grandiose earth.
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I am ashamed to tell you, dear Antiochus, I grudged the noble crown that soon will rest So gloriously upon you. Take it, brother, But leave me my dim goddess Rodogune.
ANTIOCHUS Thy goddess! thine!
TIMOCLES It is not possible That you too love her!
ANTIOCHUS What is it to thee whom or what I love? Say that I love her not?
TIMOCLES Then is my offer Just, brotherly, not like this causeless wrath.
ANTIOCHUS Thy wondrous offer! Of two things that are mine To fling me one with "There! I want it not, I'll take the other"!
TIMOCLES (in a suffocated voice) Has she made thee king?
ANTIOCHUS I need no human voice to make me anything Who am king by birth and nature. Who else should reign In Syria? Thoughtst thou thy light and shallow head Was meant to wear a crown?
TIMOCLES In Egypt you were not like this, Antiochus.
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ANTIOCHUS See not the Parthian even in dreams at night! Remember not her name!
TIMOCLES She is my mother's slave: I'll ask for her and have her.
ANTIOCHUS Thou shalt have My sword across thy heart-strings first. She is The kingdom's prize and with the kingdom mine.
TIMOCLES My dream, my goddess with those wondrous eyes! My sweet veiled star cloistered in her own charm! I will not yield her to thee, nor the crown, Not wert thou twenty times my brother.
PHAYLLUS Capital! Delightful! O my fortune! my kind fortune!
TIMOCLES Thou lov'st her not who dar'st to think of her As if she were a prize for any arms, Thy slave, thy chattel.
ANTIOCHUS Speak not another word.
PHAYLLUS More! more! My star, thou risest o'er this storm.
ANTIOCHUS I pardon thee, my brother Timocles; Thy light passions are thy excuse. Henceforth
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Offend not. For the Parthian, she is mine And I would keep her though a god desired. Exalt not thy presumptuous eyes henceforth Higher than are her sandals.
PHAYLLUS This is your brother! Shall he not have the crown?
TIMOCLES Nor her, nor Syria.
Rodogune and Eunice enter passing through the hall. Timocles rushes to her.
My Rodogune, my star! Thou knowest the trade Which others seek to make of thee. Resist it, Prevent the insult of this cold award! Say that thou lov'st me.
RODOGUNE Prince, I pity thee, But cannot love.
She passes out.
EUNICE My cousin Timocles, All flowers are not for your plucking. Roses Enough that crave to satisfy your want, Are grown in Syria; take them. Here be wise; Touch not my Parthian blossom.
TIMOCLES How am I smitten as with a thunderbolt!
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PHAYLLUS Will you be dashed by this? They make her think Antiochus will reign in Syria.
TIMOCLES No, She loves him.
PHAYLLUS Is love so quickly born? Oh, then, It will as quickly die. Eunice works here To thwart you; she is for Antiochus.
TIMOCLES All, all are for Antiochus, the crown, And Syria and men's homage, women's hearts And life and sweetness and my love.
PHAYLLUS Young prince, Be more a man. Besiege the girl with gifts And graces; woo her like a queen or force her Like what she is, a slave. Be strong, be sudden, Forestalling this proud brother.
TIMOCLES I would not wrong her pure and shrouded soul Though all the gods in heaven should give me leave.
PHAYLLUS The graceful, handsome fool! Then from your mother Demand her as a gift.
TIMOCLES (going) My soul once more Is hunted by the tempest.
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Cleopatra's chamber.
Cleopatra, Cleone.
CLEOPATRA I am resolved; but Mentho the Egyptian knows The true precedence of the twins. Send her to me.
Cleone goes out.
O you, high-seated cold divinities, You sleep sometimes, they say you sleep. Sleep now! I only loosen what your careless wills Have tangled.
Mentho, sit by me. Mentho, You have not breathed our secret? Keep it, Mentho, Dead in your bosom, buy a queen for slave.
MENTHO Dead! Can truth die?
CLEOPATRA Ah, Mentho, truth! But truth Is often terrible. Justice! but was ever Justice yet seen upon the earth? Man lives Because he is not just and real right Dwells not with law and custom but for him It grows by whose arriving our brief happiness Is best assured and grief prohibited For a while to mortals.
MENTHO This is the thing I feared.
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O wickedness! Well, Queen, I understand.
CLEOPATRA Not less than you I love Antiochus; But Timocles seeks Parthian Rodogune. O, if these brother-loves should turn to hate And slay us all! Then rather let thy nursling stand,— Will he not rule whoever fills the throne?— Approved of heaven and earth, indeed a king, Protector of the weaker Timocles, His right hand in his wars, his pillar, guard And sword of action, grand in loyalty, Kingly in great subjection, famed for love. Then there shall be no grief for anyone And everything consent to our desires.
MENTHO Queen Cleopatra, shall I speak? shall I Forget respect? The god demands my voice. I tell thee then that thy rash brain has hatched A wickedness beyond all parallel, A cold, unmotherly and cruel plot Thou striv'st in vain to alter with thy words. O nature self-deceived! O blinded heart! It is the husband of thy boasted love, Woman, thou wrongest in thy son.
CLEOPATRA Alas, Mentho, my nurse, thou knowest not the cause.
MENTHO I do not need to know. Art thou Olympian Zeus? Has he given thee his sceptre and his charge To guide the tangled world? Wilt thou upset His rulings? wilt thou improve his providence? Are thy light woman's brain and shallow love
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A better guide than his all-seeing eye? O wondrous arrogance of finite men Who would know better than omniscient God! Beware his thunders and observe his will. What he has made, strive not to unmake, but shun The tragical responsibility Of such dire error. If from thy act spring death And horror, are thy human shoulders fit To bear that heavy load? Observe his will, Do right and leave the rest to God above.
CLEOPATRA Thy words have moved me.
MENTHO Let thy husband move thee. How wilt thou meet him in the solemn shades? Will he not turn his royal face from thee Saying, "Murderess of my children, come not near me!"
CLEOPATRA O Mentho, curse me not. My husband's eyes Shall meet me with a smile. Mentho, my nurse, You will not tell this to Antiochus?
MENTHO I am not mad nor wicked. Remain fixed In this resolve. Dream not that happiness Can spring from wicked roots. God overrules And Right denied is mighty.
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The Palace in Antioch. Under the hills.
The Audience-Chamber in the Palace.
Nicanor, Phayllus and others seated; Eunice, Philoctetes, Thoas apart near the dais.
THOAS Is it patent? Is he the elder? do we know?
EUNICE Should he not rule?
THOAS If Fate were wise, he should.
EUNICE Will Timocles sack great Persepolis? Sooner I think Phraates will couch here, The mighty, steadfast, patient, subtle man, And from the loiterer take, the sensualist Antioch of the Seleucidae.
THOAS Perhaps. But shall I rise against the country's laws That harbours me? The sword I draw, is hers.
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EUNICE Are law and justice always one? Reflect.
THOAS If justice is offended, I will strike.
He withdraws to another part of the hall.
EUNICE The man is wise, but when ambition's heaped In a great bosom, Fate takes quickly fire. It only needs the spark.
PHILOCTETES Is it only that That's needed? there shall be the spark.
He withdraws.
EUNICE Fate or else Chance Work out the rest. I have given your powers a lead.
Nicanor, who has drawn near, stops before her.
NICANOR Your council's finished then?
EUNICE What council, father?
NICANOR I have seen, though I have not spoken. Meddle not In things too great for you. This realm and nation Are not a skein for weaving fine intrigues In your shut chambers.
EUNICE We have other sports. What do you mean?
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NICANOR See less Antiochus. Carry not there your daring spirit and free rein To passion and ambition nor your bright scorn Of every law that checks your headstrong will. Or must I find a curb that shall restrain you?
EUNICE My prudent father! These men think that wisdom Is tied up to beards. We too have heads And finer brains within them, as I think!
She goes up on the dais. Leosthenes, Callicrates and others enter together.
THOAS Leosthenes from Parthia! Speeds the war?
LEOSTHENES It waits a captain.
THOAS It shall have today A king of captains.
LEOSTHENES I have seen the boy. But there's a mystery? Shall he be the king?
THOAS If Fate agrees with Nature.
LEOSTHENES Neither can err So utterly, I think; for, if they could, Man's will would have a claim to unseat Fate, Which cannot be.
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Cleopatra enters with Antiochus and Timocles; Cleone, Rodogune in attendance, the latter richly robed.
PHILOCTETES See where she places him!
THOAS 'Tis on her right!
PHAYLLUS It is a woman's ruse. Or must I at disadvantage play the game With this strong piece against?
CLEOPATRA The strong Antiochus has gone too early Down the dim gorges to that silent world Where we must one day follow him. A younger hand Takes up his sceptre and controls his sword. These are the Syrian twins, Nicanor's sons, These are Antiochus and Timocles. Why so long buried, why their right oppressed, Why their precedence tyrannously concealed, Forget. Forget old griefs, old hatreds; let them rest Inurned, nor from their night recover them.
NICANOR We need not raise the curtains that conceal Things long inurned, but lest by this one doubt The dead past lay a dark and heavy hand Upon our fairer future, let us swear The Queen shall be obeyed as if she spoke For Heaven. Betwixt the all-seeing gods and her Confine all cause of quarrel.
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PHAYLLUS Let the princes swear; For how can subjects jar if they agree?
CLEOPATRA O not with oaths compel the Syrian blood! My sons, do you consent?
TIMOCLES Your sovereign will must rule, Mother, your children and our fraternal kindness Will drown the loser's natural chagrin In joy at the other's joy.
CLEOPATRA Antiochus, my son!
ANTIOCHUS Your question, Madam, was for Timocles; From me it needs no answer.
PHAYLLUS You accept Your mother's choice?
ANTIOCHUS God's choice. My mother speaks A thing concealed, not one unsettled.
PHAYLLUS Prince, Syria demands a plainer answer here.
ANTIOCHUS Who art thou? Art thou of Seleucus' blood Who questionest Syria's kings?
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CLEOPATRA Enough. My sons Will know how to respect their kingly birth. Today begins another era. Rise, Princess of Parthia; sit upon this throne, Phraates' daughter; thou art peace and love And must today be crowned. Marvel not, Syrians; For it is peace my envoys bear by now Upon their saddles to Persepolis.
THOAS This was a secret haste!
LEOSTHENES Is it possible? We had our heel upon the Parthian's throat.
CLEOPATRA Since Parthia swept through the Iranian East Wrecking the mighty Macedonian's toil, War sways for ever like a darkened sea In turmoil twixt our realms. How many heart-strings Have broken, what tears of anguish have been wept And eyes sought eastward unreturning eyes! Joy has been buried in the blood-drenched sands. Vain blood, vain weeping! Earth was made so wide That many might have majesty and joy Upon one mother's equal breast. But we Arresting others' portions lose our own. Nations that conquer widest, perish first, Sapped by the hate of an uneasy world. Then they are wisest victors who in time Knowing the limits of their prosperous fate Avoid the violence of Heaven. Syrians, After loud battles I have founded glorious peace. That fair work I began as Syria's queen; To seal it Syria's king must not refuse.
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ANTIOCHUS I do refuse it. There shall be no peace.
CLEOPATRA My son!
ANTIOCHUS Peace! Are the Parthians at our gates? Has not alarm besieged Ecbatana? When was it ever seen or heard till now That victors sued for peace? And this the reason, A woman's reason, because many have bled And more have wept. It is the tears, the blood Prodigally spent that build a nation's greatness. I here annul this peace, this woman's peace, I will proclaim with noise of victories Its revocation.
PHAYLLUS Now!
THOAS Thou speakest, King!
TIMOCLES You are not crowned as yet, Antiochus.
ANTIOCHUS Syria forbids it, Syria's destiny Sends forth her lion voices from the hills Where trumpets blare towards Persepolis, Forbidding peace.
CLEOPATRA We do not sue for peace, My son, but give peace, taking provinces And taking Rodogune.
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TIMOCLES Who twenty times Outweighs all hero's actions and exceeds Earth's widest conquests.
ANTIOCHUS For her and provinces! O worse disgrace! The sword had won us these. We wrong the mighty dead who conquered. Provinces! Whose soil are they that we must sue for them? The princess! She's my prisoner, is she not? Must I entreat the baffled Parthian then What I shall do with my own slave-girl here In Antioch, in my palace? Queen of Syria, This was ignobly done.
CLEOPATRA I know you do not love me; in your cold heart Love finds no home; but still I am your mother. You will respect me thus when you are king?
ANTIOCHUS I will respect you in your place, enshrined In your apartments, governing your women, Not Syria.
CLEOPATRA Leave it. You will not think of peace?
ANTIOCHUS Yes, when our armies reach Persepolis.
MELITUS How desperate looks the Queen! What comes of this?
NICANOR (who has been watching Eunice) End this debate; let Syria know her king.
Cleopatra rises and stands silent for a moment.
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TIMOCLES Mother!
CLEOPATRA Behold your king!
MENTHO She has done it, gods!
There is an astonished silence.
NICANOR Speak once more, daughter of high Ptolemy, Remembering God. Speak, have we understood? Is Timocles our king?
CLEOPATRA (with a mechanical and rigid gesture) Behold your king!
Nicanor makes a motion of assent as to the accomplished fact.
NICANOR Let then the King ascend his throne.
LEOSTHENES (half-rising) Thoas!
PHILOCTETES Speak, King Antiochus, God's chosen king Who art, not Cleopatra's.
THOAS Speak, Antiochus.
ANTIOCHUS Why didst thou give to me alone the name Of Syria's princes? why upon thy right Hast seated me? or wherefore mad'st thou terms For that near time when I should be the king,
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Chaffering for my consent with arguments Unneeded if the younger were preferred? Wilt thou invoke the gods to seal this lie?
CLEOPATRA Dost thou insult me thus before my world? Ascend the throne, my son.
ANTIOCHUS Stay, Timocles. Make not such haste, my brother, to supplant Thy elder.
TIMOCLES My elder?
He looks at Cleopatra.
CLEOPATRA I have spoken the truth.
MENTHO Thou hast not; thou art delivered of a lie, A monstrous lie.
CLEONE Silence, thou swarthy slave!
MENTHO I'll not be silent. She offends the gods. I am Mentho the Egyptian, she who saw The royal children born. She lies to you, O Syrians. Royal young Antiochus Was first on earth.
THOAS The truth breaks out at last.
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PHAYLLUS This is a slave the surplus mud of Nile Engendered. Shall we wrong the Queen by hearing her?
MENTHO I was a noble Egyptian's wife in Memphis, No slave, thou Syrian mongrel, and my word May stand against a perjured queen's.
EUNICE (leaning forward) Is't done?
Nicanor who has been hesitating, observes her action and stands forward to speak.
NICANOR The royal blood of Egypt cannot lie. Shall Syria's queen be questioned? Shall common words Of common men be weighed against the breath of kings? Let not wild strife arise, O princes, let it not. Antiochus, renounce unfilial pride; Wound not thy mother and thy motherland, Son of Nicanor.
THOAS Shall a lie prevail?
NICANOR (looking again at Eunice) It was settled then among you! Be it so. My sword is bare. I stand for Syria's king.
PHILOCTETES (in the midst of a general hesitation) Egyptian Philoctetes takes thy challenge, Nicanor.
ANTIOCHUS Who is for me in Syria?
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THOAS I set my sword Against Nicanor's.
LEOSTHENES I am Leosthenes. I draw my victor steel for King Antiochus.
ANTIOCHUS Who else for me?
OTHERS I! I! and I! and I!
CALLICRATES AND OTHERS We for King Timocles.
LEOSTHENES Slay them, cut down The party of the liars.
There is a shouting and tumult with drawing and movement of swords.
NICANOR Protect the King. Let insolent revolt at once be quenched And sink in its own blood.
LEOSTHENES I slay all strife With the usurper.
THOAS Stay, stay, Leosthenes.
ANTIOCHUS Forbear! forbear, I say! let all be still!
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The great Seleucus' house shall not be made A shambles. Not by vulgar riot, not By fratricidal murder will I climb Into my throne, but up the heroic steps Of ordered battle. Brother Timocles, That oft-kissed head is sacred from my sword. Nicanor, thou hast thrown the challenge down; I lift it up.
CLEOPATRA O, hear me, son Antiochus.
ANTIOCHUS I have renounced thee for my mother.
CLEOPATRA O wretched woman!
She hurries out followed by Rodogune, Eunice and Cleone.
NICANOR Thou shalt not do this evil, Though millions help thee.
He goes out with Timocles, Phayllus, Callicrates and the others of his party.
PHILOCTETES Can we hold the house And seize the city? We are many here.
THOAS Nicanor's troops hold Antioch.
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LEOSTHENES Not here, not here. Out to the army on the marches! There Is Syria's throne, not here in Antioch.
ANTIOCHUS Mentho, Go with us. Gather swiftly all our strength, Then out to Parthia!
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Rodogune, Eunice.
RODOGUNE God gave my heart and mind; they are not hers To force into this vile adultery. I am a Parthian princess, of a race Who choose one lord and cleave to him for ever Through death, through fire, through swords, in hell, in heaven.
EUNICE The Queen's too broken. It was Phayllus said it. He has leaped into the saddle of affairs And is already master. What can we hope for Left captive in such hands? Not Syria's throne Shall you ascend beside your chosen lord, But as a slave the bed of Timocles.
RODOGUNE If we remain! But who remains to die? In Parthian deserts, in Antiochus' tents! There we can smile at danger.
EUNICE Yes, oh, yes! Deserts for us are safe, not Antioch. Come.
Antiochus and Philoctetes enter from without.
ANTIOCHUS I sought for you, Eunice, Rodogune. To saddle! for our bridal pomp and torches
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Are other than we looked for.
Phayllus enters from within with Theras.
PHAYLLUS Today, no later. The Egyptian rebel ravishes our queen! Help! help!
ANTIOCHUS Off, Syrian weasel!
He flings off Phayllus and goes out with Eunice, Rodogune, Philoctetes.
PHAYLLUS Theras, pursue them!
Theras hastens out; Phayllus rushes to the window.
Antiochus escapes! Oppose him, sentinels. A thousand pieces for his head! He's through. O for a speedy arrow!
Timocles enters with Cleone.
TIMOCLES Who escapes?
PHAYLLUS Thy brother, forcing with him Rodogune, And with them fled Eunice.
TIMOCLES Rodogune!
PHAYLLUS By force he carried her.
TIMOCLES O no, she went Smiling and glad. O thou unwise Phayllus,
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Why dost thou stay with me, a man that's doomed? He will come back and mount his father's throne And rule the nations. Why wouldst thou be slain? All, all's for him and ever was. I have had Light loves, light friends, but no one ever loved me Whom I desired. So was it in our boyhood's days, So it persists. He is preferred in heaven And earth is his and his humanity. Even my own mother is a Niobe Because he has renounced her.
PHAYLLUS I understand, Seeing this, the reason.
TIMOCLES Why should he always have the things I prize? What is his friendship but a selfish need Of souls to unbosom himself to, who will share, Mirror and serve his greatness? Yet it was he The clear discerning Philoctetes chose; Upon his shoulder leaned my royal uncle Preferring him to admonish and to love; On me he only smiled as one too light For praise or censure. What's his kingliness But a lust of grandiose slaughter, an ambition Almost inhuman and a haughty mind That lifts itself above the highest heads As if his mortal body held a god And all were mean to him? Yet proudest men, Thoas, Theramenes, Leosthenes, Become unasked his servants. What's his love? A despot's sensual longing for a slave, Carnal, imperious, harsh, without respect, The hunger of the vital self, not raised, Refined, uplifted to the yearning heart. Yet Rodogune, my Rodogune to him
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Has offered up her moonlit purity, Her secret need of sweetness. O she has Unveiled to him her sweet proud heart of love. She would not look at me who worshipped her. You too, Phayllus, go, Cleone, go And serve him in his tents: the future's there, Not on this brittle throne with which the gods In idle sport have mocked me.
PHAYLLUS There must be a man Somewhere within this!
CLEONE You shall not speak so to him. Look round, King Timocles, and see how many Prefer you to your brother. I am yours, Phayllus works for you, princely Nicanor Protects you, famed Callicrates supports. Your mother only weeps in fear for you, Not passion for your brother.
TIMOCLES Rodogune Has left me.
PHAYLLUS We will have her back. Today Began, today shall end this rash revolt. Rise up, King Timocles, and be thyself, Possess thy throne, recover Rodogune.
TIMOCLES I cannot live unless you bring her back.
PHAYLLUS That is already seen to. My couriers ride
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Before them to Thrasyllus on the hills. Their flight will founder there.
TIMOCLES O subtle, quick And provident Phayllus! Thou, thou, deviser, Art the sole minister for me. Cleone, The gods have made thee wholly beautiful That thou mightst love me.
He goes out with Cleone.
PHAYLLUS Minister! That's something, Not all I work for.
(to Theras who enters)
Well?
THERAS He has escaped. Your throw this time was bungled, Chancellor.
PHAYLLUS I saw his rapid flight; but afterwards?
THERAS The band of Syrian Phliaps kept the gates. We shouted loud, but he more quick, more high, Like some clear-voiced Tyrrhenian trumpet cried, "Syrians, I am your king," and they at once, "Hail, glorious King!" and followed at his word, Galloping, till on the Orient road they seemed Like specks on a white ribbon.
PHAYLLUS Let them go. There's yet Thrasyllus. Or if he returns, Though gods should help, though victory march his friend, I am here to meet him.
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Under the Syrian hills.
Antiochus, his generals, soldiers; Eunice, Rodogune, Mentho.
ANTIOCHUS What god has moved them from their passes sheer Where they were safe from me?
THOAS They have had word, No doubt, to take us living.
LEOSTHENES On!
THOAS They are Three thousand, we six hundred armèd men. Shall we go forward?
LEOSTHENES Onward, still, I say!
ANTIOCHUS Yes, on! I turn not back lest my proud Fate Avert her eyes from me. A hundred guard The princesses.
He goes, followed by Thoas, Leosthenes, Philoctetes.
EUNICE He'll break them like sea-spray;
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They shall not stand before him.
RODOGUNE You missioned angels, guard Antiochus.
As she speaks, the Eremite enters and regards her.
EUNICE He is through them, he is through them! How they scatter Before his sword! My warrior!
RODOGUNE Who is this man, Eunice? He is terrible to me.
EREMITE Who art thou rather, born to be a torch To kingdoms? Is not thy beauty, rightly seen, More terrible to men than monstrous forms Which only frighten?
EUNICE What if kingdoms burn, So they burn grandly?
EREMITE Spirits like thine think so. Princess of Antioch, hast thou left thy father To follow younger eyes? Alas, thou knowst not Where they shall lead thee! It is to gates accursed And by a dolorous journey.
EUNICE Beyond all portals I'ld follow! I am a woman of the Greeks Who fear not death nor hell.
Antiochus returns.
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ANTIOCHUS Our swords have hewn A road for us. Who is this flamen?
EREMITE Hail! "Rejoice" I cannot say, but greet Antiochus Who never shall be king.
ANTIOCHUS Who art thou, speak, Who barst with such ill-omened words my way Discouraging new-born victory? What thou knowest, Declare! Curb not thy speech. I have a mind Stronger than omens.
EREMITE I am the appointed voice Who come to tell thee thou shalt not be king, But at thy end shall yield to destiny For all thy greatness, genius, pride and force Even as the tree that falls. March then no farther, For in thy path Fate hostile stands.
ANTIOCHUS If Fate Would have me yield, let her first break me. On!
EREMITE The guardians of the path then wait for thee Vigilant lest the world's destiny be foiled By human greatness. March on to thy doom.
ANTIOCHUS I will. Straight on, whatever doom it be!
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EREMITE Farewell, thou mighty Syrian, soul misled, Strength born untimely! We shall meet again When death shall lead thee into Antioch.
ANTIOCHUS March.
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The Palace in Antioch. Before the hills.
Cleopatra, Zoӱla.
CLEOPATRA Will he not come this morning? How my head aches! Zoӱla, smooth the pain out of it, my girl, With your deft fingers. Oh, he lingers, lingers! Cleone keeps him still, the rosy harlot Who rules him now. She is grown a queen and reigns Insulting me in my own palace. Yes, He's happy in her arms; why should he care for me Who am only his mother?
ZOŸLA Is the pain less at all?
CLEOPATRA O, it goes deeper, deeper. Ever new revels, While still the clang of fratricidal war Treads nearer to his palace. Zoӱla, You saw him with Cleone in the groves That night of revel?
ZOŸLA So I told you, madam. It is long since Daphne's groves have gleamed so bright
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Or trembled to such music.
CLEOPATRA They were together?
ZOŸLA Oh, constantly. One does not see such lovers.
CLEOPATRA (shaking her off) Go!
ZOŸLA Madam?
CLEOPATRA Thy touch is not like Rodogune's Nor did her gentle voice offend me. Eunice,
Zoӱla retires.
Why hast thou left me, cruel cold Eunice?
She walks to the window and returns swiftly.
God's spaces frighten me. I am so lonely In this great crowded palace.
Timocles enters the room reading a despatch.
TIMOCLES He rushes onward like a god of war. Mountains and streams and deserts waterless Are grown our foes, his helpers. The gods give ground Before his horse-hooves. Millions of men arrayed in complete steel Cannot restrain him. Almost we hear in Antioch His trumpets now. Only Nicanor and the hills Hardly protect my crown, my brittle crown!
CLEOPATRA Antiochus comes!
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TIMOCLES The Macedonian legions Linger somewhere upon the wide Aegean. Sea And land contend against my monarchy. Your brother sends no certain word.
CLEOPATRA It will come. Could not the Armenian helpers stay his course? They came like locusts.
TIMOCLES But are swept away As with a wind. O mother, fatal mother, Why did you keep me from the battle then? My presence might have spurred men's courage on And turned this swallowing fate. It is alone Your fault if I lose crown and life.
TIMOCLES There, mother, I have made you weep. I love you, Dear mother, though I make you often weep.
CLEOPATRA I have not blamed you, my sweet Timocles. I did the wrong. Go to the field, dear son, And show yourself to Syria. Timocles, I mean no hurt, but now, only just now, Would not a worthier presence at your side Assist you? My royal brother of Macedon Would give his child to you at my desire, Or you might have your fair Egyptian cousin Berenice. Syria would honour you, my son.
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TIMOCLES I know your meaning. You are so jealous, mother. Why do you hate Cleone, grudging me The solace of her love? I shall lose Syria And I have lost already Rodogune: Cleone clings to me. Nor is her heart Like yours, selfish and jealous.
CLEOPATRA Timocles!
TIMOCLES (walking to the window) O Rodogune, where hast thou taken those eyes, My moonlit midnight, where that wondrous hair In which I thought to live as in a cloud Of secret sweetness? Under the Syrian stars Somewhere thou liest in my brother's arms, Thy pale sweet happy face upon his breast Smiling up to be kissed. O, it is hell, The thought is hell! At midnight in the silence I wake in warm Cleone's rosy clasp To think of thee embraced; then in my blood A fratricidal horror works. Let it not be, You gods! Let me die first, let him be king. O mother, do not let us quarrel any more: Forgive me and forget.
CLEOPATRA You go from me?
TIMOCLES My heart is heavy. I will drink awhile And hear sweet harmonies.
CLEOPATRA There in the hall And with Cleone?
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TIMOCLES Let it not anger you. Yes, with Cleone.
CLEOPATRA I am alone, so terribly alone!
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Phayllus, Theras.
THERAS His fortune holds.
PHAYLLUS He has won great victories And stridden exultant like a god of death Over Grecian, Syrian and Armenian slain; But being mortal at each step has lost A little blood. His veins are empty now. Where will he get new armies? His small force May beat Nicanor's large one, even reach Antioch, To find the Macedonian there. They have landed. He is ours, Theras, this great god of tempest, Our captive whom he threatens, doomed to death While he yet conquers.
Timocles enters with Cleone, then the musicians and dancing-girls.
TIMOCLES Bring in the wine and flowers; sit down, sit down. Call in the dancers. Through the Coan robes Let their bright flashing limbs assault my eyes Capturing the hours, imprisoning my heart In a white whirl of movement. Sit, Cleone. Here on my breast, against my shoulder! You rose Petalled and armed, you burden of white limbs Made to be kissed and handled, you Cleone! Yes, let the world be flowers and flowers our crown
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With rosy linkings red as our own hearts Of passion. O wasp soft-settling, poignant, sting, Sting me with bliss until I die of it.
PHAYLLUS I do not like this violence. Theras, go.
Theras leaves the hall.
TIMOCLES Drink, brother Phayllus. Your webs will glitter more brightly, You male Arachne. More wine! I'll float my heart out in the wine And pour all on the ground to naked Eros As a libation. I will hide my heart In roses, I will smother thought with jonquils. Sing, someone to me! sing of flowers, sing mere Delight to me far from this troubled world.
Song Will you bring cold gems to crown me, Child of light? Rather quick from breathing closes Bring me sunlight, myrtles, roses, Robe me in delight. Give me rapture for my dress, For its girdle happiness.
TIMOCLES Closer, Cleone; pack honey into a kiss. Another song! you dark-browed Syrian there!
Song Wilt thou snare Love with rosy brightness To make him stay with thee? The petulant child of a fair, cruel mother, He flees from me to crown another. O misery! Love cannot be snared, love cannot be shared; Light love ends wretchedly.
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TIMOCLES Remove these wine-cups! tear these roses down! Who snared me with these bonds? Take hence, thou harlot, Thy rose-faced beauty! Thou art not Rodogune.
CLEONE What is this madness?
TIMOCLES Hence! leave me! I am sick Of thy gold and roses.
PHAYLLUS Go, women, from the room; The King is ill. Go, girl, leave him to me.
All go, Cleone reluctantly, leaving Phayllus with Timocles.
TIMOCLES I will not bear it any more. Give me my love Or let me die.
PHAYLLUS In a few nights from this Thou shalt embrace her.
TIMOCLES Silence! It was not I. What have I said? It was the wine that spoke. Look not upon me with those eyes of thine.
PHAYLLUS The wine or some more deep insurgent spirit Burns in thy blood. Thou shalt clasp Rodogune.
TIMOCLES Thy words, thy looks appal me. She's my brother's wife Sacred to me.
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PHAYLLUS His wife? Who wedded them? For not in camps and deserts Syria's kings Accomplish wedlock. She's his concubine. Slave-girl she is and bed-mate of thy brother And may be thine. Or if she were his soul-close wife, Death rends all ties.
TIMOCLES I will not shed his blood. Silence, thou tempter! he is sacred to me.
PHAYLLUS Thou needst not stain thy hands, King Timocles. Be he live flesh or carrion, she is thine.
TIMOCLES Yet has she lain between my brother's arms.
PHAYLLUS What if she were thy sister, should that bar thee From satisfaction of thy heart and body?
TIMOCLES Do you not tremble when you say such things?
PHAYLLUS We have outgrown these thoughts of children, king: Nor gods nor ghosts can frighten us. You shake At phantoms of opinion or you feign To start at such, forgetting what you are. The royal house of Egypt heeds them not, Where you were nursed. Your mother sprang from incest. If in this life you lose your Rodogune, Are others left where you may have her bliss? Your brother thought not so, but took her here.
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TIMOCLES I'll not be tempted by thee.
PHAYLLUS No, by thyself Be tempted and the thought of Rodogune. Or shall we leave her to her present joys? Perhaps she sleeps yet by Antiochus Or held by him to sweeter vigilance—
TIMOCLES (furiously) Accursed ruffian, give her to my arms. Use fair means or use foul, use steel, use poison, But free me from these inner torments.
PHAYLLUS From more Than passion's injuries. Trust thy fate to me Who am its guardian.
TIMOCLES I am afraid, afraid! What furies out of hell have I aroused Within, without me? Let them do their will. For I must have her once between my arms, Though Heaven leap down in lightnings.
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Before the Syrian hills. Antiochus' tent.
Antiochus, Thoas, Leosthenes, Philoctetes.
PHILOCTETES This is Phayllus' work, the Syrian mongrel. Who could have thought he'ld raise against us Greece And half this Asia?
ANTIOCHUS He has a brain.
THOAS We feel it. This fight's our latest and one desperate chance Still smiles upon our fate.
ANTIOCHUS Nicanor yields it us Scattering his armies; for if we can seize Before he gathers in his distant strengths This middle pass, Antioch comes with it. So I find it best and think the gods do well Who put before us one decisive choice Not lingering out their vote in balanced urns, Not tediously delaying strenuous fate,— Either to conquer with one lion leap Or end in glorious battle.
THOAS We ask no better; With you to triumph or die beside you taking
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The din of joyous battle in our ears, Following your steps into whatever world.
PHILOCTETES Have we not strength enough to enforce retreat Like our forefathers through the Asian vasts To Susa or the desert or the sea Or Ptolemy in Egypt,—thence returning With force of foreign levies, if Phayllus Draw even the distant Roman over here, Dispute with him the world?
ANTIOCHUS No, Philoctetes. With native swords I sought my native crown, Which if I win not upon Syria's hills A hero's death is mine. Make battle ready. Our bodies are the dice we throw again On the gods' table.
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Antiochus, Eunice, Rodogune.
ANTIOCHUS I put my hand on Antioch. Thou hast done well, O admirable quick Theramenes. This fight was lionlike.
EUNICE And like the lion Thou art, my warrior, thou canst now descend Upon Seleucus' city. How new 'twill seem After the mountains and the starlit skies To sleep once more in Antioch!
RODOGUNE I trust the stars And mountains better. They were kind to me. My blood within me chills when I look forward And think of Antioch.
ANTIOCHUS These are the shadows from a clouded past Which shall not be repeated, Rodogune. This is not Antioch that thou knewst, the prison Of thy captivity, thou enterest now, Not Antioch of thy foes, but a new city And thy own kingdom.
RODOGUNE Are the gods so good?
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ANTIOCHUS The gods are strong; they love to test our strength Like armourers hammering steel. Therefore 'twas said That they are jealous. No, but high and stern Demanding greatness from the great; they strike At every fault they see, perfect themselves Labour at our perfection. What rumour increases Approaching from the mountains? Thoas, thou?
Thoas enters.
Thy brow is dark. Is it Theramenes? Returns our fortune broken?
THOAS Broken and fallen. We who are left bring back Theramenes Upon whose body twenty glorious wounds Smile at defeat.
ANTIOCHUS Theramenes before me! How have you kept me lying in my tent! I thought our road was clear of foemen.
THOAS The gods Had other resources that we knew not of. Within the passes, on the summit couch The spears of Macedon. They have arrived From the sea, from Antioch.
ANTIOCHUS The Macedonians! Then Our day is ended; we must think of night. We reach our limit, Thoas.
THOAS That's if we choose;
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For there are other tidings.
ANTIOCHUS They should be welcome.
THOAS Phraates, thy imperial father, comes With myriad hosts behind him thunder-hooved, Not for invasion armed as Syria's foe, But for the husband of his Rodogune. Shall we recoil upon these helpers? Death Can always wait.
ANTIOCHUS Perhaps. Leave me awhile, Thoas; for we must sit alone tonight, My soul and I together. Rodogune,
Thoas goes.
Wouldst thou go back to Parthia, to thy country?
RODOGUNE I have no country, I have only thee. I shall be where thou art; it is all I know And all I wish for.
ANTIOCHUS Eunice, wilt thou go To Antioch safe? My mother loves thee well.
EUNICE I follow her and thee. What talk is this? I shall grow angry.
ANTIOCHUS Am I other, Eunice, Than once I was? Is there a change in me Since first I came into your lives from Egypt?
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EUNICE You are my god, my warrior and the same You ever were.
ANTIOCHUS To her and thee I am. Sleep well, my Rodogune, for thou and I, Not sure of Fate, are of each other sure. To thee what else can matter?
RODOGUNE Nothing else.
Rodogune and Eunice enter the interior of the tent.
ANTIOCHUS A god! Yes, I have godlike stirrings in me. Shall they be bounded by this petty world The sea can span? If Rome, Greece, Africa, Asia and all the undiscovered globe Were given me for my garden, all glory mine, All men my friends, all women's hearts my own, Would there not still be bounds, still continents Unvanquished? O thou glorious Macedonian, Thou too must seek at last more worlds to conquer. Hast thou discovered them? This earth is but a hillock when all's said, The sea an azure puddle. All tonight Seems strange to me; my wars, ambition, fate And what I am and what I might have been, Float round me vaguely and withdraw from me Like grandiose phantoms in a mist. Who am I? Whence come I? Whither go, or wherefore now? Who gave me these gigantic appetites That make a banquet of the world? who set These narrow, scornful and exiguous bounds To my achievement? O, to die, to pass,
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Nothing achieved but this, "He tried great things, Accomplished small ones." If this life alone Be given us to fail or to succeed, Then 'tis worth keeping.
The Parthian treads our land! Phraates' hooves dig Grecian soil once more! The subtle Parthian! He has smiled and waited Till we were weak with mutual wounds and now Stretches his foot towards Syria. Have I then Achieved this only, my country's servitude? Shall that be said of me? It galls, it stabs. My fame! "Destroyer of Syria, he undid The great Seleucus' work." Whatever else O'ertake me, in this the strong gods shall not win. I will give up my body and sword to Timocles, Repel the Parthian, save from this new death, These dangerous allies from Macedon Syria, then die. But wherefore die? Should I not rather go With my sole sword into the changeful world, Create an empire, not inherit one? Are there not other realms? has not the East Great spaces? In huge torrid Africa Beyond the mystic sources of the Nile There must be empires. Or if with a ship One sailed for ever through the infinite West, Through Ocean and still Ocean for three years, Might not one find the old Atlantic realms No fable? Thy narrow lovely littoral, O blue Mediterranean, India, Parthia, Is this the world? I thirst for mightier things Than earth has.
But for what I dreamed, to bound Upon Nicanor through the deep-bellied passes Or fall upon the Macedonian spears, It were glorious, yet a glorious cowardice, Too like self-slaughter. Is it not more heroic
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To battle with than to accept calamity? Unless indeed all thinking-out is vain And Fate our only mover. Seek it out, my soul, And make no error here; for on this hour The future of the man Antiochus, What future he may have upon the earth In name or body lies. Reveal it to me, Zeus! In Antioch or upon the Grecian spears, Where lies my fate?
While he is speaking, the Eremite enters.
EREMITE Before thee always.
ANTIOCHUS How Cam'st thou or whence? I know thy ominous look.
EREMITE The how inquire not nor the whence, but learn The end is near which I then promised thee.
ANTIOCHUS So then, defeat and death were from the first My portion! Wherefore were these thoughts gigantical With which I came into my mother ready-shaped If they must end in the inglorious tomb?
EREMITE Despise not proud defeat, scorn not high death. The gods accept them sternly.
ANTIOCHUS Yes, as I shall, But not submissively.
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EREMITE Break then, thou hill Unsatisfied with thy own height. The gods Care not if thou resist or if thou yield; They do their work with mortals. To the Vast Whence thou, O ravening, strong and hungry lion, Overleaping cam'st the iron bars of Time, Return! thou hast thy tamers. God of battles! Son of Nicanor! strong Antiochus! Depart and be as if thou wert not born. The gods await thee in Antioch.
He departs.
ANTIOCHUS I will meet them there. Break me. I see you can, O gods. But you break A body, not this soul; for that belongs, I feel, To other masters. It is settled then. Tomorrow sets in Antioch.
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Philoctetes, Thoas, Leosthenes, Eunice.
LEOSTHENES Surely this is the change that comes on men Who are to die.
PHILOCTETES O me! it is, it is.
THOAS Princess Eunice, what think you of it?
EUNICE Thoas, what matters what we think? We follow Our king; it is his to choose our paths for us. Lead they to death? Then we can die with him.
THOAS That's nobly spoken.
PHILOCTETES But too like a woman.
Antiochus enters with Rodogune.
ANTIOCHUS To Antioch! Is all ready for our march?
PHILOCTETES Antiochus, my king, I think in Egypt We loved each other.
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ANTIOCHUS Less here, my Philoctetes?
PHILOCTETES Then by that love, dear friend, go not to Antioch. Let us await the Parthian in his march. What do you seek at Antioch? A mother angry? A jealous brother at whose ear a fatal knave Sits always whispering? lords inimical? What can you hope from these? Go not to Antioch. I see Death smiling, waving you to go, But do not.
ANTIOCHUS Dearest comrade, Philoctetes, Fate calls to me and shall I shrink from her? I know my little brother Timocles, I feel his clasp already, see his smile. But there's Phayllus! Shall I fall so low As to fear him? Forgive me, friend; I go to Antioch.
PHILOCTETES It was decreed!
ANTIOCHUS But you, my friends, who have no love To shield you and perhaps great enemies, Will you fall back until I make your peace, To Egypt or Phraates?
THOAS Not a man Will leave your side who followed your victorious sword. We follow always.
ANTIOCHUS Beat then the drums and march.
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But let an envoy ride in front to Timocles And tell him that Antiochus comes to lay His victor sword between a brother's knees And fight for him with Parthia. Let us march.
All go except Philoctetes.
PHILOCTETES (looking after him) O sun, thou goest rushing to the night Which shall engulf thee!
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The Palace in Antioch.
Phayllus, alone.
PHAYLLUS My brain has loosened harder knots than this. Timocles gets by this his Rodogune; That's one thing gained. Tonight or else tomorrow I'll have her in his bed though I have to hale her Stumbling to it through her own husband's blood. For he must die. He is too great a man To be a subject: nor is that his intention Who hides some subtler purpose. Exile would free him For more stupendous mischief. Death! But how? There is this Syrian people, there is Timocles Whose light unstable mind like a pale leaf Trembles, desires, resolves, renounces.
Timocles enters.
TIMOCLES Phayllus, It is the high gods bring about this good. My great high brother, strong Antiochus To come and kneel to me! No hatred more! He is the brother whom I loved in Egypt.
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PHAYLLUS Oh, wilt thou always be, thou shapeless soul, Clay for each passing circumstance to alter?
TIMOCLES Do you not think I have only now to ask And he will give me Rodogune? She's not his wife! Cast always together in the lonely desert, Long nearness must have wearied him of her; For he was never a lover. O Phayllus, When so much has been brought about, will you tell me This will not happen too? I am sure the gods Intend this.
PHAYLLUS So you think Antiochus comes To lay his lofty head below your foot? You can believe it! Truly, if you think that, There's nothing left that cannot be believed. This soul that dreamed of conquests at its birth, This strong overweening swift ambitious man Whom victory disappoints, to whom continents Seem narrow, will submit, you say,—to you? You'll keep him for your servant?
TIMOCLES What is it you hint? Stroke not your chin! Speak plainly. Do you know, I sometimes hate you!
PHAYLLUS I care not, if you hear me And let me guard you from your enemies.
TIMOCLES I know you love me, but your thoughts are evil To every other and your ways are worse.
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Yet speak; what is it you fear?
PHAYLLUS How should I know? Yet this seems probable that having failed By violent battle he is creeping in To slay you silently. You smile at that? It is the commonest rule of statesmanship And History's strewn with instances. Believe it not; Believe your wishes, not mankind's record; Slumber till with the sword in you you wake And he assumes your purple.
TIMOCLES (indifferently) I hear, Phayllus. Let him give me Rodogune And all's excused he has ever done to me.
PHAYLLUS He will keep her and take all hearts besides That ever loved you.
TIMOCLES (still indifferently) I will see that first.
Cleopatra enters quickly.
CLEOPATRA It is true, Timocles? It is even true! Antiochus my son is coming to me, Is coming to me!
TIMOCLES Thus you love him still!
CLEOPATRA He is my child, he has his father's face. And I shall have my Parthian Rodogune With her sweet voice and gentle touch, and her,
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My darling, my clear-eyed delight, Eunice, And I shall not be lonely any more. I have not been so happy since you came From Egypt. But, O heaven! what followed that? Will now no stark calamity arise With Gorgon head to turn us into stone Venging this glimpse of joy? Torn by your scourges I fear you, gods, too much to trust your smile.
Nicanor enters.
NICANOR Antiochus comes.
TIMOCLES Hail, thou victorious captain, Syria's strong rescuer!
NICANOR Syria's rescuer comes, Thy brother Antiochus who makes himself A sword to smite thy dangerous enemies.
PHAYLLUS You used not once to praise him so, Nicanor.
NICANOR Because I knew not then his nobleness Who had only seen his might.
PHAYLLUS Yet had you promised That if he entered Antioch, it would be chained And naked, travelling to the pit or sword, Nicanor.
NICANOR He comes not as a prisoner,
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But royally disdaining to enslave For private ends his country to the Parthian.
TIMOCLES Comes my dear brother soon?
NICANOR Even at this moment He enters.
TIMOCLES Summon our court. Let all men's eyes behold This reconciliation. I shall see Next moment Rodogune!
There enter from one side Callicrates, Melitus, Cleone, courtiers; from the other Antiochus, Eunice, Rodogune, Thoas, Leosthenes, Philoctetes.
O brother, in my arms! Let this firm clasp Be sign of the recovered amity That binds once more for joy Nicanor's sons.
ANTIOCHUS This is like thee, my brother Timocles. Let all vain strife be banished from our souls. My sword is thine, and I am thine and all I have and love is thine, O Syrian Timocles, Devoted to thy throne for Syria.
TIMOCLES All? Brother! O clasp me once again, Antiochus.
ANTIOCHUS The Syrian land once cleansed of foemen, rescued From these fierce perils, I shall have thy leave, Brother, to voyage into distant lands; But not till I have seen your Antioch joys
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Of which they told us, I and my dear wife, The Parthian princess Rodogune. See, brother, How all things work out by a higher will. Thou hast the Syrian kingdom, I have her And my own soul for monarchy.
TIMOCLES His wife!
MELITUS The King is pale and gnaws his nether lip.
ANTIOCHUS Mother, I kneel to you; raise me this time And I will not be forward.
CLEOPATRA My child! my child!
TIMOCLES He will not give me Rodogune! And now he'll steal My mother's heart. Captains, I welcome you: You are my soldiers now.
LEOSTHENES We thank thee, King. We are thy brother's soldiers, therefore thine.
TIMOCLES Yes! Philoctetes, old Egyptian friend, You go not yet to Egypt?
PHILOCTETES I know not where. I have forgotten why I came from thence. I hope that you will love your brother.
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TIMOCLES Him! Oh yes, I'll love him.
ANTIOCHUS Brother Timocles, We have come far today; will you appoint us Our chambers here?
TIMOCLES I'll take you to them, brother.
All leave the hall except Cleone and Phayllus.
CLEONE Is this their peace? But he'll have Rodogune And I shall like a common flower be thrown Into the dust-heap.
PHAYLLUS Pooh!
CLEONE I have eyes; I see. Even then I knew I would be nothing to you Once you were seated. I'll not be flung away! Beware, Phayllus; for Antiochus lives.
PHAYLLUS Make change of lovers then with Rodogune While yet he lives.
CLEONE I might do even that. He has a beautiful body like a god's. I will not have him slain.
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PHAYLLUS You may be his widow If you make haste in marrying him; for soon He will be carrion.
Timocles returns.
TIMOCLES I'ld have a word with you, Phayllus.
Cleone withdraws out of hearing.
Where will they put the Parthian Rodogune?
PHAYLLUS Put her?
TIMOCLES To sleep, dull ruffian! Her chamber! Where?
PHAYLLUS Why, in one bed with Prince Antiochus.
TIMOCLES Thou bitter traitor, dar'st thou say it too? Art thou too leagued to slay me? Shall I bear it? In my own palace! In one bed! O God! I will go now and stab him through the heart And drag her, drag her—
CLEONE (running to him) The foam is on his lips!
PHAYLLUS Restrain thy passions, King! He is transformed. This is that curious devil, jealousy. As if it mattered! He will have her soon.
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TIMOCLES Cleone, I thank you. When I think of this, Something revolts within to strangle me And tears my life out of my bosom. Phayllus, You spoke of plots; where are they? Let me see them.
PHAYLLUS That's hard. Are they not hidden in his breast?
TIMOCLES Can you not tear them out?
PHAYLLUS Torture your brother!
TIMOCLES Torture his generals; let them howl their love for him! Torture Eunice. Let truth come out twixt shrieks! Number her words with gouts of blood!
PHAYLLUS You'll hurt yourself. Be calmer. Torture! To what purpose that? It is not profitable.
TIMOCLES I will have proofs. Wilt thou thwart me, thou traitor, even thou? Arrange his trial instantly, arrange His exile.
PHAYLLUS Exile! You might as well arrange At once your ruin.
TIMOCLES There shall be justice, justice.
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Thou shalt be fairly judged, Antiochus. I will not slay him. Exile! And Rodogune With me in Antioch.
PHAYLLUS Listen! the passing people sing his name. They'll rise to rescue him and slay us all As dogs are killed in summer. Command his death: No man will rise for a dead carcase. Death, Not exile! He'll return with Ptolemy Or great Phraates, take your Syria from you, Take Rodogune.
TIMOCLES I give my power to you. Try him and sentence him. But execution, Let it be execution. I will have No murder done. Arrange it.
He goes out followed by Cleone.
PHAYLLUS While he's in the mood, It must be quickly done. But that's to venture With no support in Syria when it's done Except this brittle king. It matters not. Fortune will bear me out; she's grown my slave-girl. What liberties have I not taken with her Which she has suffered amorously, kinder grown After each handling. Watch me, my only lover! Sudden and swift shall be Phayllus' stroke.
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Cleopatra, Antiochus, Eunice, Rodogune.
CLEOPATRA Eunice, cruel, heartless, sweet Eunice, How could you leave me?
EUNICE Pardon me, dear lady.
ANTIOCHUS Mine was the error, mother.
CLEOPATRA O my son, If you had said that "mother" to me then, All this had never happened.
ANTIOCHUS I have been hard To you, my mother, you to me your son. We have both erred and it may be the gods Will punish our offences even yet.
CLEOPATRA O, say not that, my child. We must be happy; I will have just a little happiness.
RODOGUNE O, answer her with kisses, dear Antiochus.
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CLEOPATRA Do you too plead for me, sweet Parthian?
EUNICE Cousin Antiochus.
ANTIOCHUS My heart is chastened and I love, Mother, though even now I will not lie And say I love you as a child might love Who from his infancy had felt your clasp. But, mother, give me time and if the gods Will give it too, who knows? we may be happy.
Philoctetes enters.
PHILOCTETES Pardon me, Madam, but my soul is harried With fierce anxieties. You do not well To linger with your son Antiochus. A jealous anger works in Timocles When he hears of it.
CLEOPATRA Is't possible?
PHILOCTETES Fear it! Believe it!
CLEOPATRA (shuddering) I will not give the gods a handle. But I may take Eunice and your wife To comfort me a little?
ANTIOCHUS Go with her,
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Eunice. Leave me for an hour, my Rodogune.
All go from the chamber except Antiochus.
When, when will the gods strike? I feel the steps Of Doom about me. Open thy barriers, Death; I would not linger underneath the stroke.
Phayllus enters with soldiers.
PHAYLLUS Seize him! This is the prince Antiochus.
ANTIOCHUS So soon! I said not farewell to my love. Well, Syrian, dost thou carry only warrants Or keeps the death-doom pace with thy arrest?
PHAYLLUS Thy plots have been discovered, plotter.
ANTIOCHUS Plots! Vain subtle fool, I will not answer thee. What matters the poor pretext? Guards, conduct me.
He goes out, guarded.
PHAYLLUS Must thou be royal even in thy fall?
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RODOGUNE Will they not let me go and see him even?
EUNICE We'll make our way to him and out for him To Egypt, Egypt.
RODOGUNE There's only one joy left, To be with him whether we live or die.
EUNICE You are too meek. Cleone helps us here Whatever be the spring of her strange pity. When we come back, Phayllus, we shall find out Whether the ingenuity of men Holds tortures huge enough for your deserts.
RODOGUNE Why do you pace about with flaming eyes? Be still and sit and put your hand in mine.
EUNICE My Parthian sweetness! O, the gods are cruel Who torture such a heart as thine.
RODOGUNE Where is
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My mother?
EUNICE She is lying in her room Dry-eyed and voiceless, gazing upon Fate With eyes I dare not look at. Till tomorrow. At dawn we'll have him out. Cleone bribes The sentries; Thoas has horses and a ship Wide-winged for Egypt, Egypt.
RODOGUNE O yes, let us leave Syria and cruel Antioch.
EUNICE For a while. I would have had him out tonight, my king, But ruffian Theras keeps the watch till dawn. How long will walls immure so huge a prisoner? Trial! When he returns in arms from Egypt, Try him, Phayllus. We must wait till dawn.
RODOGUNE I shall behold him once again at dawn.
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A guard-room in the Palace.
Antiochus, alone.
ANTIOCHUS What were Death then but wider life than earth Can give us in her clayey limits bound? Darkness perhaps! There must be light behind.
As he speaks, Phayllus enters.
Who is it?
PHAYLLUS Phayllus and thy conqueror.
ANTIOCHUS In some strange warfare then!
PHAYLLUS I came to see Before thy end the greatness that thou wast; For thou wert great as mortals measure. Thou hast An hour to live.
ANTIOCHUS Shorter were better.
PHAYLLUS An hour! It is strange. The beautiful strong Antiochus In one brief hour and by a little stroke Shall be mere rotten carrion for the flies To buzz about.
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ANTIOCHUS Thinkest thou so, Phayllus?
PHAYLLUS I know it, and in thy fall, because thou wert great, I feel my greatness who am thy o'erthrower. I long to probe the mightiness thou art And know the thoughts that fill thee at this hour; For it must come to me some day. The things We are, do and are done to! Let it be. Dost thou not ask to kiss thy wife? She'ld come, Though she must leave thy brother's bed for it.
ANTIOCHUS What a poor lie, Phayllus, for the great man Thou thinkst thyself!
PHAYLLUS Thou knowst not then for her Thou diest, that his hungry arms may clasp Her warm sweet body thou hast loved to kiss?
ANTIOCHUS So didst thou work it? Thou art a rare study, Thou Graeco-Syrian.
PHAYLLUS I am what my clay Has made me. It does not hurt thee then to know That while thou art dying, they are hard at work Even now before thy kingly corpse is cold?
ANTIOCHUS What a blind owl thou art that seest the sun And thinkst it darkness! Hence! I weary of thee. Thou art too shallow after all. Outside Is it the dawn?
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PHAYLLUS The dawn. Thou wak'st too early For one who shall not sleep again.
ANTIOCHUS Yes, sleep I have done with; now for an immortal waking.
PHAYLLUS That dream of fools! Thou art another man Than any I have seen and to my eyes Thou seemst a grandiose lack-wit. Yet in defeat I could not move thee. I have limits then?
ANTIOCHUS Yes, didst thou think thyself a god in evil And souls of men thy subjects? Leave me, send Thy executioner. Let him be quick. I wait!
Phayllus goes.
I fear he still will loiter. Waiting Was ever tedious to me: I will sleep.
(he lies down; after a pause)
Is this that other country? Theramenes Before me smiling with his twenty wounds And Mentho with the breasts that suckled me! Who are these crowding after me so fast? My mother follows me and cousin Eunice Treads in her footsteps. Thou too, Timocles? Thoas, Leosthenes and Philoctetes, Good friends, will you stay long? The world grows empty. Why, all that's great in Syria staggers after me Into blind Hades; I am royally Attended.
Theras enters.
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THERAS Phayllus' will compels me to it, Or else I do not like the thing I do.
ANTIOCHUS Who is it? Thou art the instrument. Strike in. Keep me not waiting. I ever loved proud swiftness And thorough spirits.
THERAS I must strike suddenly or never strike.
He strikes.
ANTIOCHUS I pass the barrier.
THERAS Will not this blood stop flowing?
ANTIOCHUS The blood? Let the gods have it; 'tis their portion.
THERAS A red libation, O thou royal sacrifice! I have done evil. Will sly Phayllus help me? He was a trickster ever. I have done evil.
ANTIOCHUS Tell Parthian Rodogune I wait for her Behind Death's barrier.
THERAS The world's too still. Will he not speak again Upon this other side of nothingness? O sounds, sounds, sounds! The sentries change, I think. I'll draw thy curtains, O thou mighty sleeper.
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He draws the curtains, extinguishes the light and goes out. All is still for a while, then the door opens again and Eunice and Rodogune enter.
EUNICE Tread lightly, for he sleeps. The curtain's drawn.
RODOGUNE O my Antiochus, on thy hard bed In the rude camp with horses neighing round Thou well mightst slumber nor the undistant trumpet Startling unseal thy war-accustomed ears From the sweet lethargy of earned repose. But in the horrible silence of this prison How canst thou sleep? It clamours in my brain More than could any sound, with terror laden And voices.
EUNICE I'll wake him.
RODOGUNE Do not. He is tired And you will spoil his rest.
EUNICE He moves no more Than the dead might.
RODOGUNE Speak not of death, Eunice; We are too near to death to speak of him.
EUNICE He must be waked. Cousin Antiochus, You sleep too soundly for a prisoner. Wake!
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RODOGUNE There is some awful presence in this room.
EUNICE I partly feel it. Wake, wake, Antiochus.
She draws apart the curtain and puts in her arm, then hastily withdraws it.
O God, what is this dabbles so my hand, That feels almost like blood?
(tearing down the curtain)
Antiochus!
She falls half-swooned against the wall. There is a silence, then noise is heard in the corridors and the voice of Nicanor at the door.
NICANOR Guard carefully the doors; let no evasion Deceive you.
RODOGUNE Antiochus! Antiochus! Antiochus!
EUNICE Call him not; he will wake And Heaven be angry. O my Rodogune, Let us too sleep.
RODOGUNE Antiochus! Antiochus!
Nicanor enters armed with soldiers and lights.
NICANOR Am I in time? Thou? thou? How cam'st thou here? Who is this woman with the dreadful face? Can this be Rodogune? Eunice, speak. What is this blood upon thy hands and dress?
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Thou dost not speak! Oh, speak!
EUNICE I am going, I am going to my chamber To sleep.
NICANOR Arrest her, guards.
He approaches the bed and recoils.
Awake the house! Sound the alarm! O palace of Nicanor, Thou canst stand yet upon thy stony base Untroubled! The warlike prince Antiochus Lies on this bed most treacherously murdered.
Cries and commotion outside.
Speak, wretched girl. What villain's secret hand Profaned with death this royal sanctuary? How cam'st thou here or hast this blood on thee?
There enter in haste Callicrates, Melitus, Cleone; afterwards Phayllus and others.
CLEONE (to Nicanor) Thou couldst not save him then for all my warning? In vain didst thou mistrust me!
PHAYLLUS (entering) It is done. Yet Theras came not! Do I fail? Fortune, my kindly goddess, help me still In the storm I have yet to weather.
NICANOR Thou hast come! This is thy work, thou ominous counsellor.
PHAYLLUS In all the land who dare impugn me, if it be?
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NICANOR Thou art a villain! Thou shalt die for this.
PHAYLLUS One day I shall, for this or something else. But here's the King.
NICANOR No more a king for me Or Syria.
Timocles enters, followed by Cleopatra.
MELITUS The Queen comes cold and white and shuddering.
CLEOPATRA (speaking with an unnatural calmness) Why do these cries of terror shake the house Repeating Murder and Antiochus? Nicanor, lives my son?
NICANOR Behold, O woman, The frame you fashioned for Antiochus, Cast from your love before, now cast from life, By whose unnatural contrivance, let them say Who did it.
CLEOPATRA It is not true, it is not true! There can be no such horror. O, for this, For this you gave him back!
TIMOCLES O gods! Phayllus, I did not think that he would look like this.
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MELITUS Cover this death. It troubles the good King.
TIMOCLES (recovering himself) This is a piteous sight, beloved mother; Would that he lived and wore the Syrian crown Unquestioned.
CLEOPATRA Timocles, I will not credit What yet a horror in my blood believes. The eyes of all men charge you with this act; Deny it!
CLEOPATRA Deny it!
TIMOCLES Alas, mother!
TIMOCLES O mother, what shall I deny? It had to be. Blame only the dire gods And bronze Necessity.
CLEOPATRA Call me not mother! I have no children. I am punished, gods, Who dared outlive my great unhappy husband For this!
She rushes out.
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NICANOR Is this thy end, O great Seleucus? What Fury rules thy house? The Queen is gone With desperate eyes. Who next?
There enter in haste Philoctetes, Thoas, Leosthenes and others of Antiochus' party.
PHILOCTETES It is true then, It is most true! O high Antiochus, How are thy royal vast imaginations All spilt into a meagre stream of blood! And yet thy eyes seem to gaze royally Into death's vaster realms as if they viewed More conquests there and mightier monarchies. When we were boys and slumber came with noon, Often you'ld lay your head upon my knee Even thus. O little friend Antiochus, We are again in hundred-gated Thebes And life is all before us.
THOAS O insupportable! Thou styled by men a king, no king of mine, Acquit thyself of this too kindred blood. No murderer sits in great Seleucus' chair Longer than takes the movement of my sword Out of its scabbard. I live to ask this question.
LEOSTHENES Nor think thy royal title nor thy guards Shall fence thy life, thou crowned fratricide, Nor many ranks of triple-plated iron Shut out swift vengeance.
PHILOCTETES His eyes look up and seem to smile at me.
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NICANOR Thoas, thy anger ranges far too wide. Respect the blood of kings, Leosthenes.
THOAS See dabbled on this couch the blood of kings Thus by a kindred blood respected.
TIMOCLES The hearts Of kings are not their own, nor yet their acts. This was an execution, not a murder. In better time and place you shall have proofs: Phayllus knows it all. Be satisfied. Lift up this royal dead. All hatred now Forgotten, I will royally inter His ashes guarding still his diadem And sword and armour. All that most he loved Shall go with him into the silent world.
RODOGUNE I come.
TIMOCLES The voice of Rodogune! That woman's form The shadowy anguished robe concealed! She here Beside my brother!
NICANOR We had forgotten how piteous was this scene. O you who loved the dead, forbear a while; All shall be sternly judged.
TIMOCLES O Rodogune, The dead demands thy grief, since he too loved thee, But not in this red chamber pay thy debt,
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Not in this square of horror. In thy calm room Gently bedew his memory with tears And I will help them with my own. Me too He loved once.
LEOSTHENES Shall our swords yet sleep? He wooes His brother's wife beside his brother's corpse Whom he has murdered.
THOAS Yet, Leosthenes. For Heaven has borne enough from him. At last The gods lift up their secret thunderbolts Above us.
NICANOR She totters and can hardly move. Assist her or she falls.
PHILOCTETES (raising his head) O Rodogune, What wilt thou with my dead?
PHAYLLUS Shall it be allowed?
TIMOCLES I do not grudge this corpse her sad farewell. O Rodogune, embrace the unresponsive dead; But afterwards remember life and love Are still on earth.
THOAS Afterwards, Timocles. Give death a moment.
There is a silence while Rodogune bends swaying over the dead Antiochus.
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TIMOCLES O my Rodogune, Leave now the dead man's side whose debt is paid. Return to life, to love.
RODOGUNE (stretching out her arms) My king! my king! Leave me not, leave me not! I am behind thee.
She falls dead at the feet of Antiochus.
EUNICE O, take me also!
She rushes to Rodogune and throws herself on the dead bodies.
NICANOR Raise the princess up; She has swooned.
THOAS Her heart has failed her: she is dead.
TIMOCLES Rise up, my Rodogune.
THOAS She is dead, Timocles; She's safe from thee. Thou goest not alone, My king, into the darkness.
CLEONE Look to the King!
TIMOCLES (speaking with difficulty) Lives she?
MELITUS No, she is dead, King Timocles.
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CLEONE Brother, the King!
Timocles has been tearing at the robe round his neck. Phayllus, Melitus and others crowd round to support him as he falls.
NICANOR It is a fit at worst Which anger and despair have forced him to.
PHAYLLUS It is not death? I live then.
NICANOR Death, thou intriguer! Art thou not Death who with thy wicked promptings And poisonous whispers worked to dangerous rage The kindly moods of Timocles? Seize him, He shall atone this murder.
PHAYLLUS You build too soon Your throne upon these prostrate bodies. Your king Lives still, Nicanor.
NICANOR Not to save thee from death, Nor any murderer. Drag him hence.
CLEONE The King revives. Save thyself, brother.
LEOSTHENES Ten kings should not avail To save him.
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NICANOR Drag hence that subtle Satan.
TIMOCLES I live And I remember!
CLEONE Sleepest thou, Phayllus?
PHAYLLUS My king, they drag me hence to murder me.
TIMOCLES (vaguely at first) Who art thou? Thou abhorred and crooked devil, Thou art the cause that she is lost to me. Slay him! And that shrewd-lipped, rose-tinted harlot, Let her be banished somewhere from men's sight Where she can be forgotten. O brother, brother, I have sent thee into the darkling shades, Myself am barred the way.
PHAYLLUS What I have done, I did for this poor king and thankless man. But there's no use in talking. I am ready.
TIMOCLES (half-rising, furiously) Slay him with tortures! let him feel his death As he has made me feel my living.
NICANOR Take him And see this sentence ruthlessly performed Upon this frame of evil. May the gods In their just wrath with this be satisfied.
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PHAYLLUS And yet I loved thee, Timocles.
He is taken out, guarded.
NICANOR Daughter, Eunice, rise.
EUNICE I did not know till now Life was so difficult a thing to leave. Her going was so easy!
NICANOR Ah, girl, this tragic drama owns in part Thy authorship! Henceforth be wise and humble. To her chamber lead her.
EUNICE Do with me what you will. My heart has gone to journey with my dead. O father, for a few days bear with me; I do not think that I shall long displease you Hereafter.
She goes, attended by Melitus.
NICANOR Follow her, Callicrates, And let no dangerous edge or lethal drink Be near to her despair.
Callicrates follows.
THOAS This cannot keep us From those we loved.
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NICANOR Syrians, what yet remains Of this storm-visited, bolt-shattered house Let us rebuild, joining our strength to save The threatened kingdom. For when this deed is known, The Parthian lion leaps raging for blood And Ptolemy's dangerous grief for the boy he cherished Darkens on us from Egypt. Syria beset And we all broken!
TIMOCLES Something has snapped in me Physicians cannot bind. Thou, Prince Nicanor, Art from the royal blood of Syria sprung And in thy line Seleucus may descend Untainted from his source. Brother, brother, We did not dream that all would end like this, When in the dawn or set we roamed at will Playing together in Egyptian gardens, Or in the orchards of great Ptolemy Walked with our arms around each other's necks Twin-hearted. But now unto eternity We are divided. I must live for ever Unfriended, solitary in the shades; But thou and she will lie at ease inarmed Deep in the quiet happy asphodel And hear the murmur of Elysian winds While I walk lonely.
PHILOCTETES We too without thee now Breath-haunted corpses move, Antiochus. Thou goest attended to a quiet air; Doomed still to live we for a while remain Expecting what the gods have yet in store.
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