No More Learning

Ii-idion. When? Where? For what? With whom ?

Masinissa. Throughout the eternal ages ! Every-
where !
Before, and at, after the fall of Rome !



344



IRIDION.



Wherever spirits tliink, or feel, or act :
And with the infinite God !

Iridion. But without end?

Forever? Everywhere? and with the Infinite?

Masiiiissa. I will myself conduct you in the strife:
Meanwhile among the Fallen play your part,
Live on the earth which our Great Foe has cursed.
But one day you sliall raise your head in all
The plenitude of a great intellect
Against Him and His servants !

Iridion. But victory ! Will victory smile at last?
If never here, at least on some far star
I am at last to take my armor off?
At last to lay down quietly my head
Upon some cherished breast in utter trust,
To love and be beloved; to guard, not doom?

Masinissa. Seek not to know before the appointed
hour !
On ! on ! and learn to rule your fi. iltering heart,
To be alone on earth, as He above the stars,
To endure as spirits mightier far than man !
Before you can attain the utmost height
Which man may reach, a thousand times
His hot fires will break over and consume you :
A thousand times death will transform, and fit
For wilder pangs ! You are a foaming wave.
One moment scaling Heaven in utmost bliss.
Then dashed to Hell in uttermost despair!
He smiles on this eternal surge of souls.
Sentient and quivering, breaking at His feet
In ever-changing, writhing agony !

Iridion. My spirit does not quail before this foe —
God should be generous to what He makes :
But it grows late — I'm weary — so good-night !
Early to-morrow come to me again.
I had no pity on my Elsinoe, —
And shall I spare the unknown virgin now?

Masinissa. Think on my words! The nations of this
earth
All pass away — my spirit never dies.

i^Exii Jlldsi/iissa. )



I RID ION. 345

Iridion {throwing off his chlamys). Off! off! You

burden me !
(Flinging away his ring. ') Circle of flame, away !
I'd tear the very hairs out of my head ! . . .
They are not I ! . . . they press and overwhelm me I . . .
The air is stifling . . . is my soul on fire? . , .
Where art thou hid, Iridion? Oh, show
Thyself to me ! . . .

Torment that livest in my heart, come out ! . . .
Who art thou ? , . . I must see thee 1 . . . I must

know . . .

{He draws his sword frotn its sheath. )

Say, blue and glittering steel, say, gloomy fire,

Canst find me there, and save me from myself?

But mark me, it must be for evermore !

No ! no ! Thou too art only an illusion !

Cato once tried thee ; doubtless when he waked,

He found some Caesar there, with swords and chains 1

{He throws down the sword and tramples upon it. )

Liar, who hast deceived "so many suffering souls

By thy false promises of nothingness.

Lie there ! I scorn thee 1 . . . I never can know rest !

Here or hereafter, I must be a slave !

Serpent hi falsehood, lie there in the dust !

{He wipes his forehead. )

What anguish must be borne by one who cannot die I
Eternal agony which never ends,
Immortal combat with an infinite foe !

{He walks tip and down. )

Never to bless a being whom I love,
Never to rest my weary head in peace !

What solitude 1 and what a desert here,
Where all is silent ! Alone ! alone ! I fill
It with my thought, — a thought that ne'er will sleep !
The night has bound my brows with crowns of fire, —
Thanks, Hell-gods, for such royal diadem ! . . .

3°



346



IRIDION.



{He stands before the statue of Amphilochus. ')

When I gaze in thy face, again I hear

Thy holy promises, Amphilochus !

Unhappy Hellas ! Thou wilt render me

Back life and peace when thou shalt press me to

Thy breast maternal ! . . .

Father, the victor hastens to thy heart !

Thou wilt embrace him, for his chariot wheels

Are thronged by haughty Romans; their strong forms

Crouching in chains around his glowing axles !

Oh, what would signify eternal torments,

Provided such a day should e'er arrive?

Provided such a day, 07ie day alone.

Should wreathe my brow with the laurels of revenge?

{He kneels? ) But must I also ruin her? her too?

Shade of my father, pardon her ! Oh, spare !

She suffers not as we ; she has her faith

And her eternal Future, God of Pain !

Poor Elsinoe pours her virgin blood

In sacrifice to thee for Hellas' sake !

To abase the proud, to fling the oppressors down,

To drive by thousands wretches into hell.

Destroy the city, offer the sunny-haired, —

I knew all that was in my destiny !

But to destroy the happy; desecrate •

The pure ; tear from her hopes a being full

Of faith ; put out a radiant light ;

Defile the Cross, and break her simple heart, . . .

{Kises. ^ Amphilochus, thy son, shall he be chased

By Furies, like Orestes? . . .

( Walks up and down the hall, and at last takes a lamp
from a tripod. )

To sleep ! The Benediction of the Lares rest
Upon my father's House, his city, country !
Here it is good and fair, — for here is Hellas !
The star of bliss once shone upon my cradle !

{Exit Itidion. )



I R IDIOM. 347



ACT III.

SCENE I. The catacombs. An antique lamp hangs in
the cefttre of a dijnly-iighted vault. Two sarcophagi
stand in the background. Rows of heavy stone pillars
line each side, until they are lost in the darkness. The
walls are covered with totnbstones, ranged one above
another.

Bishop Victor and Alexander Severus. « Alexander
is wrapped in a soldier' s cloak, with the hood drawn
round his face.

Bishop Victor. Past centuries were the childhood of
mankind !
The creature, as he ever nearer draws
To his Creator, loves Him and man more.
A day will come when there will be on earth
Nor sword nor executioner.
Blessed is he who trusts in such a future,
And labors to advance it !

Alexander. Oh, if I could

But realize it in a single day,
This work of justice, reign of good on earth !

Victor. Son, dream not to attain so easily
Realization of this blessed hope !
For in the infinite sea we call the world
Each one of us is but a single wave.
And whether its course be weak or powerful,
Its surge will last but a few fleeting hours !
Live then, and pass away, as do thy brothers.
But always act according to the light
Which has been given thee ! Consoler be
For all who grieve ; that, placed on Christ's right hand,
Thou mayst see through coming centuries
Thy brethren, still inspired by tiiee, pursue
The work which thou beginn'st to-day in faith !

Alexander. Father, thy blessing rest upon my head !



348 IRIDION.

{He kneels to receive if. ') Caesar will ne'er deny this ben-
ediction !
Prepare thy people for a coming change;
Accustom them to hear me named. It is
Mammea begs !

Victo7' {placing his hand upon Alexander's head).
As I thus bless thee now,
So may thy people bless thy memory
And thee, from age to age ! Hear us, O Christ !
Rise, Alexander ! By the Lord anointed !

Alexander. Be my good genius in the hour of strife !
Hark ! I hear steps ! Forget us not ! Farewell !

{Exit Alexaimer at the one side as Iridion enters on the
other. Iridion is wrapped in the long cloak of the prce-
torians. He lays down lance, helmet, and breastplate at
the entrance. )

Iridion. Glory to God on high ! Let earthly power
Intrude not on His Sanctuary here !

Victor. I've waited for you long, Hieronymus !
Early this morn your servants brought to me
The body of a brother, martyred at
Cecilia Metella's mausoleum.
'
The Faithful have received it from their hands ;
The funeral procession soon will move : —
My thanks are due to you, my valiant son !

Iridion. No thanks are due for simple duty done.
Father, I have just left the hall of Cresar;
Fear is upon the face of all the courtiers;
The proctors storm against the Emperor,
Tumult and strife are raging . . .

Victor. Son, I know

The solid earth is changeful in its pride
As are the waves before the breath of winds, —
But that must not disturb peace 'midst these graves !
We'll pray beneath the shade of the martyrs' palms;
Those broken newly by Athanador.

Iridion. Father, our future lies with jiw/ alone !
Your words throw men by thousands in the scales;
Victory is won wliere they preponderate.

Victor. In the invisible kingdom of the Lord,



IRIDION.



349



By prayer and sacrifice I can combat
The princes of the earth ; if you will all
Unite your prayers earnestly with mine
To the Most High — I promise victory !

Iridion. I speak of instant combat, certain triumph !
Father, we are but men ; must suffer, feel,
And hope as men ; and must as men require
A base terrestrial for our daring acts !
Until this hour a cruel power enslaves us ;
We have chosen woe and death rather than crime,
Or to bow low before debauch, corruption !
Insensate pride, senile decrepitude.
Oppressing all the nations of the earth,
Are now the forces ruling this great city :
The Emperor has not sufficient strength
To keep what yet he holds ; nor Alexander
Weight enough to inaugurate a government ;
The power possessed by both will be destroyed
In the approaching conflict. We cry to you !
Will any of you, leaders in the faith,
Strengthen your souls for struggle ; tear the cross
From these dark vaults and bowels of the earth ;
Plant it in glory on the Roman Forum? '
I see the storm-clouds gathering on your brow;
Forgive me that I feel my brothers' shame,
And know the hour is come to hurl down Jove !

Victor. I've heard your words in grief, Hieronyraus.
Baptismal waters have I vainly poured
Upon your head, and vainly taught you of
The blessed world beyond the dreary grave ;
You do not understand the truth, nor cast
The old man, full of sin, from out your heart.
Your fault is deep. You place your hope in steel,
And thirst for temporal success.

{^Funeral chants are heard in the distance. )
Hear you the chants now echoing through these graves,
Like the last sighing of the pitiless storm
In which the Son of God, bowing His head.
Gave up the Ghost in direst agony?
He called not hosts of angels to His aid,
Nor asked for vengeance on His murderers !

30*



35°



IRIDION.



Iridion. Then creeping shame and misery are to be
Our everlasting portion ?

Victor. In your impatient pride,

You err to call a jnoment everlasting.
I tell you it is true *' that only guests
Sleep in this House. "* Not only within Heaven,
But on our fields of Pain, Love will at last
Be conqueror ! All peoples shall bow down
Before Him, and no Cresar shall there be
Who bendeth not the knee before the Lord !
Know you this figure, son?

Iridion. A Grecian lute,

Such as my fathers used, with four chords strung;
It is the Lycaonian Orpheus. ^

Victor. It is a type of Christ. As Orpheus tamed
The wild beasts with his lyre, so our dear Lord
By His harmonious word unites in love
The thronging millions. When we see this lute
We think of the innumerable choirs
Of spirits acting on this earth, we seize
The harmonies that from the Cross's foot
Already penetrate to distant nations.
The Son of God lives by His own great Power,
And has no need of men at arms. i^He makes the sign of

the cross uj^on Iridion'' s brow. ') Believe,

And sin no more. As father truly pained
By a son's fault, I've given you this warning;
Should you renew the error, I must act
As shepherd of my flock, and punish you
As judge and guardian of this Christian people.

( Chorus heard advancing. ^

CHORUS.

We call upon thee from the depths, O Lord !
Receive the martyr's soul into Thy bosom;
Christ Jesus, let him in Thy glory rest!
In dying, ])rayed he for his murderers.
{The funeral train appears, bearing the martyr on a bier ; the

* An inscription graven upon the catacombs : " Coemetcrium est domus
in qua hospites dormire sclent. "



IRIDION.



351



decapitated head rests on his breast; nieti in long black robes

bear torches ; the procession is closed by women clad in

white, wearing close veils. )

Victor. Give me the symbol of his martyrdom,
Sign sacred upon earth as in the Heavens!
(77/(? Pro-Christum is brought to him. *" He takes it with

emotion and places it upon the breast of the corpse. ^
Thine own blood, shed by thee for the Son of man,
I give thee in thy coffin, that thou mayst
Arise with it upon the Judgment Day!

{He kneels at the side of the corpse ; all kneel with him. ^
O Thou who took'st upon Thyself the form
Of the wretched, that the wretched might be saved,
Deliver us from sin ! Wash in Thy Blood,
O Christ, receive into eternal rest.
Thy servant's soul whose pilgrimage is o'er,
Whose wanderings are ended upon earth!

The Voice of a Virgin. Let him behold Thy sacred
face, O Lord !

Another Virgin. And give him such a spring as earth
ne'er knew!

Jridion. From all temptation to avenge him, save us.
Lord!

Chorus. Who speaks of vengeance in this holy hour?

Victor {risi? ig from his knees). Happy are they who
die in the Lord; they rest
From their labors: their works do follow them !

{He lifts up his hands over the kneeling people. )
Rise ! bear the body to Faustinus' tomb !
{All rise. He places himself at the head of the procession,

which moves slowly on, Iridion alone remaining. As the

Virgins pass, Cornelia Metella leaves their ranks and

stands before Iridion. )

Metella. Will you not join us, Hieronymus?

Iridion. I cannot. I must elsewhere pass this night.

Metella. Where? Where?

Iridion. Where you would tremble for your soul.
Although the Christian star were rising there !

Metella. Some plot, I know, is ripening 'midst these
graves !



352



IRIDION.



Simeon of Corinth stumbled against me

But yesterday; he did not even see

Me as he passed; a lion's skin around

His shoulders hung, and his eyes gazed in space,

Glaring with rage and tumult. Ah, wretched me!

Iridion. Why "wretched," sister? The Pastor of the
flock
Declares you purest of the Christian maids,
Nay, one of the Elect: what would you more?

Aletella. Brother, such words seem strange upon your
lips.

Iridion. Metella, seem they so?

Metella. Yes, — you are changed !

Are you the brother whom I taught to pray,
With whom I knelt upon Euphemia's grave?
The very same baptized Hieronymus?

Iridion. The same. Metella, see !

Metella. I've prayed so long;

Fasted so many days and nights, and . . .

Iridion. And you will thus win Heaven, I do not
doubt.

Metella. I prayed not for myself, — no, not myself.

Iridion. For whom? Metella, speak!

Metella. A brother who . . ,

Iridion. A brother ? Speak !

Metella. How terrible you are !

Iridion. Tell me his name ! Ay, whosoe'er he be,
He shall be yours. It were i^x better so !
But hasten, maiden ! There will be no time
Left for betrothals by the Cross you love ;
But I will see you married, richly dowered.
And sent to Thebes, where you may live in peace.
Passion has gained the soul of the Elect !

{^Ile laughs scornfully. ')

Metella. Why, brother, are you mad ?

Iridion. His name ! His name !

Metella. His name was Hieronymus ! such as
I knew him once, devout and calm, not he
Who like a very madman stands by me,
Whose eyes roll wildly in their sockets. Apage !



JRIDION.



353



Iridion. Pure, blessed maiden ! Nay, Metella, look,
I'm calm and tranquil now !

Metella. And gentle as of old ?

Iridion. Humble and calm near thee !

Metella. But humble before God?

Iridion. See, I will kneel here at your feet and call
Upon the name of Christ !

Aletella. Then promise me

You will not join these men ; you will not arm
For worldly strife or aim.

Iridion. You know not what you ask.

Metella. But promise me !

Iridio? i. I am myself to lead them !

Metella. Woe ! Woe is me !

Iridion. Have you not heard it said

By holy men the appointed time draws nearp^
Remember the words spoken by the Lord
To His disciples, when about to leave them.
That He would come again, and rule o'er them.
Revealed He not to His beloved John
On Patmos' lonely shore, that Babylon
Should surely fall ; the Just inherit Earth ?

Metella. Yes, at some future time. Not now ! not
now !

Iridion. Metella, now or never it must be !

Metella. Victor condemned Eugene for teaching thus !

Iridion. The Romans killed Eudore for teaching thus !

Metella. Come to the Bishop and confess your sins,
And, like a" faithful child, be ruled by him.

Iridion. Nay, I can only be a child with you,
And that but for a fleeting moment, like
A flying wave that never can return.
Beyond your gaze, and I must bathe in blood !
No grass must grow where my horse sets his hoof!

Metella. My brother, you blaspheme !