I have a better
prospect
of the event.
Dryden - Complete
_ I know not; I am half seas o'er to death;
And, since I must die once, I would be loth
To make a double work of what's half finished;
Unless I could be sure the gods would still
Renew these miracles. [44]--Who brought this food?
_Panth. _ He's here that can resolve you. [_Exit_ PANTHEUS.
_Enter_ CLEANTHES, _with a Sword in his Hand_.
_Cleom. _ How darest thou come again within my sight?
Thou art,--but 'tis no matter what thou art.
I'll not consider thee so far to think
Thee worth reproach. --Away, away, Egyptian!
That's all the name that's left thee.
_Clean. _ Such I appear indeed.
_Cleom. _ Why then for once, that which thou seem'st, thou art. --
Begone!
_Clean. _ Oh I have been too long away!
_Cleom. _ Too soon thou art returned,
To triumph o'er my fate.
_Clean. _ Forgive me, that I seemed your foe.
_Cleom. _ Forgive me, heaven, for thinking thee my friend. --
No more; 'tis loss of time to talk.
_Clean. _ Indeed it is,
When hunger calls so loud for sustenance.
But whether friend or foe, 'tis food I bring.
_Cleom. _ 'Tis poison; and my mother, and my wife,
And my poor famished boy, are eating death.
Thou would'st not have me think, that thou repent'st?
_Clean. _ Heaven knows, I do not!
_Cleom. _ Well said, man! Go on; and be not bashful,
To own the merits of thy wickedness.
_Clean. _ What need has innocence of a repentance?
_Cleom. _ Shuffling again! Pr'ythee, be of a piece.
A little steadiness becomes a villain.
_Clean. _ Oh, friend! --for yet I dare to call you so;
Which, if I were a villain, sure I durst not,--
Hear me, or kill me!
_Cleom. _ So, by heaven, I would,
For thy profaning friendship's holy name;
But, for thou see'st no justice hanging here,
On this bare side, thou talk'st secure of vengeance.
_Clean. _ Then, if you had a sword, my death's resolved?
_Cleom. _ Thy conscience answers thee.
_Clean. _ Without more evidence than bare surmise;
At most, appearance of a crime unproved;
And, while unproved, uncertain.
_Cleom. _ Traitor, no more! 'tis fulsome.
_Clean. _ Take the sword. [_Throws it to him. _
_Cleom. _ I thank thee; draw thy own. [_Takes it up. _
_Clean. _ No; take that too. [_Draws his, and offers it. _
_Cleom. _ Fool! would'st thou die without defence?
_Clean. _ I would not:
But you forbade me to defend myself,
Then, when you would not hear me.
_Cleom. _ Can falsehood have a better argument,
Than force for its defence? Trust to that topic,
And bear thee like a man.
_Clean. _ I think, I do.
_Cleom. _ What kind of man is that, who dares not fight?
_Clean. _ The man, who dares not when his honour calls,
Is what you mean, but what I never was;
For honour never summons without reason.
Force is the law of brutes: the dumb creation,
Where words and reason want, appeal to might.
I thought a king, and, what you boast, a Spartan,
Might have known this, without the Egyptian's telling.
_Cleom. _ Come, come; thou dar'st not fight.
_Clean. _ By heaven, I dare!
But first my honour must be justified,
If you dare be my judge;
For, in this crude and indigested quarrel,
If I should fall unheard, you kill your friend,
The man, who loved you best, and holds you dearest;
And should you perish in the unjust attempt,
The sword, that slew you, should revenge your death;
For I should soon o'ertake you in the way,
To quit myself before you reached the shades,
And told your tale to Minos.
_Cleom. _ Then I must hear; but swear, swear first, I charge thee,
That, when I have pronounced, thou wilt no more
Prolong thy prattle with some new excuse;
And pr'ythee cut it short, because I faint,
And long to kill thee first--Oh, I am going!
A rising vapour rumbles in my brains,
I hear my words far off:--stand, stand, thou traitor,
And swim not thus before me;--'tis too late;
[_Puts the Point upon the Ground, once or twice; leans on it, and
staggers. _
And I fall unrevenged. -- [_Offers to run at him, and is falling. _
_Clean. _ What ho, Pantheus!
[_Runs to him, and takes him in his arms. _
The best of men is dying in my arms,
And I want power to save him.
_Enter_ PANTHEUS.
_Panth. _ O heavens! what means this direful object?
_Clean. _ Ask not, with unassisting pity; bow him forward.
Rub his numbed temples, while I wipe the sweat
From his cold clammy face.
_Panth. _ His mounting heart
Bounces against my hands, as if it would
Thrust off his manly soul.
_Clean. _ Wrench ope his mouth,
While I infuse these sovereign drops, whose power
Will soon recall his wandered sense--
[_He instills somewhat out of a Vial into his Mouth. _
He stirs,
And stretches now, and seems to essay his limbs.
_Cleom. _ Where am I? [_Standing a while; they support him. _
_Clean. _ In his arms, who died with you,
And, now you live, revives.
_Cleom. _ Art thou Pantheus?
_Panth. _ Believe your eyes, I am.
_Cleom. _ Speak then, and truly, (for I trust not him,)
Who brought me back to life?
_Panth. _ Who, but he, who was left single with you,
Who caught you, falling, in his faithful arms;
And, not alone sufficient to restore you,
Called loud for my assistance.
I found him, propping you with trembling hands;
His eyes so hagard, I could scarce distinguish
Who was the living friend, and who the dead.
_Cleom. _ All this, Cleanthes! This, what this Cleanthes?
_Panth. _ Yes, your Cleanthes.
_Clean. _ Your suspected friend,
Much wronged, but ever faithful.
_Cleom. _ Art thou sure
I live? Or am I in the regions of the dead,
And hear the fables there, myself a fable?
_Panth. _ Go in, and see your chearful family
Eating his bread, brought in their last distress;
And, with a good mistaking piety,
First blessing him, then heaven.
_Cleom. _ When I hear this, I have no need of food;
I am restored without it.
_Clean. _ Then, now hear me;
How I was forced into this seeming falsehood,
To save myself, the only means remaining
To save the man I love beyond myself,
And gain a needful credit with Cassandra:
And yet even then deceived, and sent far off
For three long days, unknowing of your wants,
Not thinking she, who loved, could use you thus.
By famishment to----
_Cleom. _ O, no more! no more!
For now I understand, ere thou canst speak it half:
To thee I owed the seizing of my sword,
Lest I should fall by odds; my wife's return,
All, all to thee; and thou art more than all.
Canst thou forgive me? Canst thou, my Cleanthes?
Can I deserve thus to grow here once more? [_Embracing him. _
Let me embrace myself quite into thee.
_Clean. _ Come, come as fiercely as thou wilt, I meet thee;
[_Embraces_ CLEOM.
I close within thee, and am thou again.
_Panth. _ Why, this is as it should be.
_Cleom. _ I could not thus have taken to the death
Another's falsehood, but thine, only thine;
For infinitely, infinitely loving,
'Twas a wide gap thou mad'st within my bosom,
And as my soul rent from me.
_Clean. _ But thy hunger!
This violent transport of my reconcilement
Makes me forget thy wants; when I embraced thee,
Thy spungy body dwindled in my arms,
And, like a ghost, fled from me.
_Cleom. _ I could eat-- [_Going in. _
Now my first appetite of love is served;
And that was much the keenest: Let us in,
For life looks lovely now, and worth preserving.
_Clean. _ Not that way, friend;
It leads you to the women, and the boy.
_Cleom. _ And why must I avoid those tender blessings?
_Clean. _ Even such because they are, you must avoid them.
For I must tell you, friend, you have but time
To snatch a hasty morsel, and away:
Nothing of manhood must be clogged, or softened,
With womanish sighs and tears, and kind adieus,
And those ill-timed remorses of good nature,
When your whole soul is needful.
_Panth. _ You tell us wonders!
_Clean. _ At the king's return,
Which daily we expect, your death's resolved.
This hour's your own; take it, and tempt your fortune
Some few brave friends I hope to add;
If not, all Egypt's numbered in myself.
_Cleom. _ I'm all on fire. --Now for a lucky pull
At fate's last lottery!
I long to see the colour, white or black:
That's the gods' work; and if I fall their shame,
Let them ne'er think of making heroes more,
If cowards must prevail.
_Panth. _ The fewer hands,
The fewer partners in the share of honour.
_Cleom. _ Come, my Pantheus;--lead, my best Cleanthes!
We three to all the world.
_Clean. _ Magas, and liberty, let be the word:
Magas is loved, and liberty desired.
A short refection waits at the lieutenant's,
That honest friend, who sent you back your wife.
We'll drink a bowl of wine, and pour the rest,
Not to the dog Anubis, but to Jove,
The freer and avenger. [_Exeunt. _
_Enter_ CRATESICLEA, CLEORA, CLEONIDAS.
_Cleor. _ Gone, and without taking leave!
_Crat. _ The better.
He bated me the forms, and you the fondness.
_Cleon. _ Pantheus, too, and he, who brought the food,
The brave Egyptian, vanished altogether.
_Cleor. _ Oh, my foreboding soul! he's gone to death!
And that Cleanthes, whom thou call'st the brave,
Has basely trained him to his destruction!
_Crat. _ Suspect him not; when fate was in his power,
And by a method so secure as famine,
To save us then, shows he had little need
To trick my son to death.
I have a better prospect of the event.
_Cleor. _ Dear mother! comfort me, and tell your thoughts;
For I see nothing but a gathering tempest,
Horror on horror, to the end of heaven!
_Crat. _ No, no; you are not of a soul to bear
The mighty good and ill, that meet midway,
As from two goals; and which comes first upon us,
Fate only knows.
_Cleon. _ Then speak to me, for I can stand the shock;
Like a young plant, that fastens in a storm,
And deeper drives the root.
_Crat. _ Thy soul's too strong; thy body yet too weak,
To bear the crush. Be still, and wait thy doom.
[_A cry within_: Liberty, liberty! Magas, Magas!
To arms for Magas, and for liberty!
_Cleon. _ What noble sound was that, so smart and vigorous,
A soul in every word?
_Crat. _ Why, that was it,
I thought was doing; but I durst not tell,
Till now it shows itself.
The work's begun, my boy; the work's begun;
There was thy father in that warlike shout,
Stemming the tide of Egypt.
_Cleor. _ O comfort me, my husband's mother! say,
My lord may live and conquer!
_Crat. _ Possibly;
But still make sure of death; trust we to that,
As to our last reserve.
_Cleor. _ Alas! I dare not die.
_Crat. _ Come, come, you dare:
Do not belye your courage.
_Cleor. _ Heaven help me, I have none.
_Crat. _ Then dare you be a slave to base Egyptians?
For that must be, if you outlive your husband.
_Cleor. _ I think, I durst, to save myself from death.
_Crat. _ Then, as a slave, you durst be ravished too?
_Cleor. _ The Gods forbid!
_Crat. _ The Gods cannot forbid it
By any way but death.
_Cleor. _ Then I dare die.
_Crat. _ I told you so; you did not know your virtue.
Poor trembling thing, I'll warm thee in my bosom,
And make thee take death kindly.
[_Another Shout within_--Liberty and Magas!
_Cleon. _ What must become of me?
_Crat. _ More trouble yet about this paltry being?
For shame, no more such qualms!
_Cleon. _ No more such vile mistakes! I would die warm,
And not in women's company, but men's.
Whether some god inspires me to this act,
Or fate inevitably calls me on,
I will not, cannot stay:
But, as a generous, unfleshed hound, that hears
From far the hunters' horn and chearful cry,
So will I haste; and, by the music led,
Come up with death or honour. [_Exit. _
_Cleor. _ Stop him, dear mother; he may comfort us,
But cannot help his father.
_Crat. _ The hero's blood is not to be controuled;
Even in a child 'tis madly masterful.
But wait we patient with our petty stakes,
Which on those greater gamesters must depend;
For, as they throw, our little lots must follow,
Like sweepings of their heap.
[CRAT. _and_ CLEORA _go in. Trumpets; a Shout within_--Liberty,
Liberty, and Magas!
_Enter_ CLEOMENES, CLEANTHES, PANTHEUS, _followed by some few Egyptians_.
_Cleom. _ What, is this populous city turned a desert?
The cry of "Liberty" runs on before us,
And yet none appears!
By Hercules, we drive them through their town:
They dare not stay to welcome their deliverers.
_Clean. _ The cowards are afraid of what they wish;
And, could they be their own, they would be ours.
_Cleom. _ They're gone; we talk to houses and to walls.
_Panth. _ Not so; I see some peeping from their doors. --
What are you? friends, or foes?
_Four Egyptians appear, peeping from the opposite Entrances of the Stage. _
_1 Egypt. _ Friends, friends; all honest men,
And hearty to the cause.
_Clean. _ Explain what cause; and give the general cry.
_1 and 2 Egypt. _ Liberty and Magas.
_Cleom. _ [_In their Tone. _] Liberty and Magas!
The cowards whisper liberty so softly,
As if they were afraid the gods would hear it,
And take them at their word.
_1 Egypt. _ No, friend: We vulgar never fear the gods; but we whisper,
for fear our o'erthwart neighbours should hear us cry, Liberty, and
betray us to the government.
_Clean. _ Of what side are you there? [_To the opposite Egyptian. _
_3 Egypt. _ That's according as you succeed: of your side hitherto.
_Panth. _ If you are men, come join with us.
_4 Egypt. _ You are too few for us to join with you; but
get the greater party of your side, and we'll be sure
to help the common cry.
_Cleom. _ Dare you do nothing to assert your freedom?
_3 Egypt. _ Yes,--we'll pray devoutly for you.
_Clean. _ The brave pray with their swords; that's a man's part.
_4 Egypt. _ Praying with our swords, the law calls fighting; and
fighting is bloodshed; and bloodshed is hanging; and hanging is the
part of a dog, and not of a man, in my opinion.
_1 Egypt. _ Every one for himself. [_Egyptian Trumpets within. _
The government is a coming.
[_They shrink back in a Fright, and clap the Doors. _
_Clean. _ Run! couch, you cowards, to your tyrant lords.
A dog you worship, and partake his nature;
A race of speaking spaniels.
_Panth. _ Let them go; we'll do our work without them.
_Clean. _ The comfort is, our foes are like our friends;
Holiday heroes, drawn out once a month,
At public charge, to eat, and to be drunk;
Mere mouths of war.
_Enter_ SOSIBIUS _and_ CŒNUS, _at the Head of many Egyptians:
They, who spoke before, bolt out of their Doors, and join with
them_.
_Sosib. _ 'Twas what I always feared,--even when I saved thee,--
To find thee thus engaged among my foes:
But yet, submit; and I can yet forgive thee.
Consider,--for 'tis all I've time to say,--
Thou fight'st against thy father.
_Clean. _ Against my father's cause, but not my father:
If you would needs become yourself a slave,
And get me such, I must redeem us both,
And will, or perish in the brave attempt.
_Sosib. _ Withdraw thyself from ruin, I command thee.
_Clean. _ Command I cannot; but I beg you, sir,
Engage not for an arbitrary power,
That odious weight upon a free-born soul.
_Sosib. _ This is too much. --Fall on, but spare my son.
_Enter_ CASSANDRA, _attended_.
_Cas. _ Sosibius, hold! Withdraw your men to distance.
You know this signet: Obey your king in me. [_Shews the Signet. _
_Sosib. _ Never more gladly; though my son's a rebel,
Yet nature works to save him.
_Cas. _ Then rather than he should untimely fall,
[CŒNUS _draws off_ SOSIBIUS'S _Men_.
I would forgive the rest, and offer life
Even to that fugitive, if he please to treat.
_Cleom. _ Be short; and, if you can, for once, sincere.
_Cas. _ What can you hope from this unequal fight,
Where numbers rise from every foe you kill,
And grow from their defeat?
_Cleom. _ We come resolved;
And to die killing, is a kind of conquest.
_Cas. _ But are not life and freedom worth accepting,
When offered; and, with such conditions too,
As make them both more pleasing? Your friend's safety,
Your son, your mother, and that only she
Who loves you best, for your companion home:--
You know what she I mean. [_Aside to him. _
_Cleom. _ No private parley; [_Stepping back. _
Spartans do all in public.
_Clean. _ We know your reasons for these secret whispers;
And to your infamy--
_Cleom. _ [_Aside to him. _] Peace, peace, my friend.
No injuries from women can provoke
A man of honour to expose their fame. --
Madam, we understand each other well:
My son, my mother, and my wife restored,
'Tis peace; if not, 'tis war.
_Sosib. _ A fair proposal: Be it peace.
_Cas. _ No, fool! 'tis war. --Know, heavy hero, know,
I gained this time for my secure revenge;
To seize thy wife and mother: and, to stab thee
On both sides of thy heart, they're gone to die,
To make thy death more painful. Farewell, traitor!
And thank thyself, not me. [_Ex. _ CAS. _and_ SOSIB.
_Cleom. _ Revenge, revenge,
And speedy death, or conquest! --Hold, Cleanthes!
_Enter_ CLEONICAS.
Poor boy!
By heaven, I'm pleased to see thee safe this moment,
Though I expect the next to lose thee. --Guard him,
Cleanthes: Set him safe behind the front.
_Clean. _ Come, sir, you are now my charge.
_Cleon. _ The gods forbid
That I should seek this danger, and not share it. --
[_To_ CLEON. ] Forgive me, sir, that once I disobey you,
To prove myself your son; living, or dying,
I'll not be less than man.
_Cleom. _ Oh! I could chide thee;
But there's no time for love and anger both.
Fight by my side; and heaven protect thy courage.
[CLEOMENES, CLEANTHES, CLEONIDAS, _and their Party go off the
Stage, to fight the Egyptians. Trumpets, Drums, Shouts, and
Clashings within. _
_Re-enter both Parties; the Egyptians first, driven by_ CLEOMENES;
PANTHEUS _ready to kill_ SOSIBIUS, _as having him down:_ CLEANTHES
_runs to him and interposes_.
_Clean. _ Pantheus, hold; or turn thy sword on me.
_Panth. _ [_To_ SOSIB. ] Rise, sir; and thank your son.
And, since I must die once, I would be loth
To make a double work of what's half finished;
Unless I could be sure the gods would still
Renew these miracles. [44]--Who brought this food?
_Panth. _ He's here that can resolve you. [_Exit_ PANTHEUS.
_Enter_ CLEANTHES, _with a Sword in his Hand_.
_Cleom. _ How darest thou come again within my sight?
Thou art,--but 'tis no matter what thou art.
I'll not consider thee so far to think
Thee worth reproach. --Away, away, Egyptian!
That's all the name that's left thee.
_Clean. _ Such I appear indeed.
_Cleom. _ Why then for once, that which thou seem'st, thou art. --
Begone!
_Clean. _ Oh I have been too long away!
_Cleom. _ Too soon thou art returned,
To triumph o'er my fate.
_Clean. _ Forgive me, that I seemed your foe.
_Cleom. _ Forgive me, heaven, for thinking thee my friend. --
No more; 'tis loss of time to talk.
_Clean. _ Indeed it is,
When hunger calls so loud for sustenance.
But whether friend or foe, 'tis food I bring.
_Cleom. _ 'Tis poison; and my mother, and my wife,
And my poor famished boy, are eating death.
Thou would'st not have me think, that thou repent'st?
_Clean. _ Heaven knows, I do not!
_Cleom. _ Well said, man! Go on; and be not bashful,
To own the merits of thy wickedness.
_Clean. _ What need has innocence of a repentance?
_Cleom. _ Shuffling again! Pr'ythee, be of a piece.
A little steadiness becomes a villain.
_Clean. _ Oh, friend! --for yet I dare to call you so;
Which, if I were a villain, sure I durst not,--
Hear me, or kill me!
_Cleom. _ So, by heaven, I would,
For thy profaning friendship's holy name;
But, for thou see'st no justice hanging here,
On this bare side, thou talk'st secure of vengeance.
_Clean. _ Then, if you had a sword, my death's resolved?
_Cleom. _ Thy conscience answers thee.
_Clean. _ Without more evidence than bare surmise;
At most, appearance of a crime unproved;
And, while unproved, uncertain.
_Cleom. _ Traitor, no more! 'tis fulsome.
_Clean. _ Take the sword. [_Throws it to him. _
_Cleom. _ I thank thee; draw thy own. [_Takes it up. _
_Clean. _ No; take that too. [_Draws his, and offers it. _
_Cleom. _ Fool! would'st thou die without defence?
_Clean. _ I would not:
But you forbade me to defend myself,
Then, when you would not hear me.
_Cleom. _ Can falsehood have a better argument,
Than force for its defence? Trust to that topic,
And bear thee like a man.
_Clean. _ I think, I do.
_Cleom. _ What kind of man is that, who dares not fight?
_Clean. _ The man, who dares not when his honour calls,
Is what you mean, but what I never was;
For honour never summons without reason.
Force is the law of brutes: the dumb creation,
Where words and reason want, appeal to might.
I thought a king, and, what you boast, a Spartan,
Might have known this, without the Egyptian's telling.
_Cleom. _ Come, come; thou dar'st not fight.
_Clean. _ By heaven, I dare!
But first my honour must be justified,
If you dare be my judge;
For, in this crude and indigested quarrel,
If I should fall unheard, you kill your friend,
The man, who loved you best, and holds you dearest;
And should you perish in the unjust attempt,
The sword, that slew you, should revenge your death;
For I should soon o'ertake you in the way,
To quit myself before you reached the shades,
And told your tale to Minos.
_Cleom. _ Then I must hear; but swear, swear first, I charge thee,
That, when I have pronounced, thou wilt no more
Prolong thy prattle with some new excuse;
And pr'ythee cut it short, because I faint,
And long to kill thee first--Oh, I am going!
A rising vapour rumbles in my brains,
I hear my words far off:--stand, stand, thou traitor,
And swim not thus before me;--'tis too late;
[_Puts the Point upon the Ground, once or twice; leans on it, and
staggers. _
And I fall unrevenged. -- [_Offers to run at him, and is falling. _
_Clean. _ What ho, Pantheus!
[_Runs to him, and takes him in his arms. _
The best of men is dying in my arms,
And I want power to save him.
_Enter_ PANTHEUS.
_Panth. _ O heavens! what means this direful object?
_Clean. _ Ask not, with unassisting pity; bow him forward.
Rub his numbed temples, while I wipe the sweat
From his cold clammy face.
_Panth. _ His mounting heart
Bounces against my hands, as if it would
Thrust off his manly soul.
_Clean. _ Wrench ope his mouth,
While I infuse these sovereign drops, whose power
Will soon recall his wandered sense--
[_He instills somewhat out of a Vial into his Mouth. _
He stirs,
And stretches now, and seems to essay his limbs.
_Cleom. _ Where am I? [_Standing a while; they support him. _
_Clean. _ In his arms, who died with you,
And, now you live, revives.
_Cleom. _ Art thou Pantheus?
_Panth. _ Believe your eyes, I am.
_Cleom. _ Speak then, and truly, (for I trust not him,)
Who brought me back to life?
_Panth. _ Who, but he, who was left single with you,
Who caught you, falling, in his faithful arms;
And, not alone sufficient to restore you,
Called loud for my assistance.
I found him, propping you with trembling hands;
His eyes so hagard, I could scarce distinguish
Who was the living friend, and who the dead.
_Cleom. _ All this, Cleanthes! This, what this Cleanthes?
_Panth. _ Yes, your Cleanthes.
_Clean. _ Your suspected friend,
Much wronged, but ever faithful.
_Cleom. _ Art thou sure
I live? Or am I in the regions of the dead,
And hear the fables there, myself a fable?
_Panth. _ Go in, and see your chearful family
Eating his bread, brought in their last distress;
And, with a good mistaking piety,
First blessing him, then heaven.
_Cleom. _ When I hear this, I have no need of food;
I am restored without it.
_Clean. _ Then, now hear me;
How I was forced into this seeming falsehood,
To save myself, the only means remaining
To save the man I love beyond myself,
And gain a needful credit with Cassandra:
And yet even then deceived, and sent far off
For three long days, unknowing of your wants,
Not thinking she, who loved, could use you thus.
By famishment to----
_Cleom. _ O, no more! no more!
For now I understand, ere thou canst speak it half:
To thee I owed the seizing of my sword,
Lest I should fall by odds; my wife's return,
All, all to thee; and thou art more than all.
Canst thou forgive me? Canst thou, my Cleanthes?
Can I deserve thus to grow here once more? [_Embracing him. _
Let me embrace myself quite into thee.
_Clean. _ Come, come as fiercely as thou wilt, I meet thee;
[_Embraces_ CLEOM.
I close within thee, and am thou again.
_Panth. _ Why, this is as it should be.
_Cleom. _ I could not thus have taken to the death
Another's falsehood, but thine, only thine;
For infinitely, infinitely loving,
'Twas a wide gap thou mad'st within my bosom,
And as my soul rent from me.
_Clean. _ But thy hunger!
This violent transport of my reconcilement
Makes me forget thy wants; when I embraced thee,
Thy spungy body dwindled in my arms,
And, like a ghost, fled from me.
_Cleom. _ I could eat-- [_Going in. _
Now my first appetite of love is served;
And that was much the keenest: Let us in,
For life looks lovely now, and worth preserving.
_Clean. _ Not that way, friend;
It leads you to the women, and the boy.
_Cleom. _ And why must I avoid those tender blessings?
_Clean. _ Even such because they are, you must avoid them.
For I must tell you, friend, you have but time
To snatch a hasty morsel, and away:
Nothing of manhood must be clogged, or softened,
With womanish sighs and tears, and kind adieus,
And those ill-timed remorses of good nature,
When your whole soul is needful.
_Panth. _ You tell us wonders!
_Clean. _ At the king's return,
Which daily we expect, your death's resolved.
This hour's your own; take it, and tempt your fortune
Some few brave friends I hope to add;
If not, all Egypt's numbered in myself.
_Cleom. _ I'm all on fire. --Now for a lucky pull
At fate's last lottery!
I long to see the colour, white or black:
That's the gods' work; and if I fall their shame,
Let them ne'er think of making heroes more,
If cowards must prevail.
_Panth. _ The fewer hands,
The fewer partners in the share of honour.
_Cleom. _ Come, my Pantheus;--lead, my best Cleanthes!
We three to all the world.
_Clean. _ Magas, and liberty, let be the word:
Magas is loved, and liberty desired.
A short refection waits at the lieutenant's,
That honest friend, who sent you back your wife.
We'll drink a bowl of wine, and pour the rest,
Not to the dog Anubis, but to Jove,
The freer and avenger. [_Exeunt. _
_Enter_ CRATESICLEA, CLEORA, CLEONIDAS.
_Cleor. _ Gone, and without taking leave!
_Crat. _ The better.
He bated me the forms, and you the fondness.
_Cleon. _ Pantheus, too, and he, who brought the food,
The brave Egyptian, vanished altogether.
_Cleor. _ Oh, my foreboding soul! he's gone to death!
And that Cleanthes, whom thou call'st the brave,
Has basely trained him to his destruction!
_Crat. _ Suspect him not; when fate was in his power,
And by a method so secure as famine,
To save us then, shows he had little need
To trick my son to death.
I have a better prospect of the event.
_Cleor. _ Dear mother! comfort me, and tell your thoughts;
For I see nothing but a gathering tempest,
Horror on horror, to the end of heaven!
_Crat. _ No, no; you are not of a soul to bear
The mighty good and ill, that meet midway,
As from two goals; and which comes first upon us,
Fate only knows.
_Cleon. _ Then speak to me, for I can stand the shock;
Like a young plant, that fastens in a storm,
And deeper drives the root.
_Crat. _ Thy soul's too strong; thy body yet too weak,
To bear the crush. Be still, and wait thy doom.
[_A cry within_: Liberty, liberty! Magas, Magas!
To arms for Magas, and for liberty!
_Cleon. _ What noble sound was that, so smart and vigorous,
A soul in every word?
_Crat. _ Why, that was it,
I thought was doing; but I durst not tell,
Till now it shows itself.
The work's begun, my boy; the work's begun;
There was thy father in that warlike shout,
Stemming the tide of Egypt.
_Cleor. _ O comfort me, my husband's mother! say,
My lord may live and conquer!
_Crat. _ Possibly;
But still make sure of death; trust we to that,
As to our last reserve.
_Cleor. _ Alas! I dare not die.
_Crat. _ Come, come, you dare:
Do not belye your courage.
_Cleor. _ Heaven help me, I have none.
_Crat. _ Then dare you be a slave to base Egyptians?
For that must be, if you outlive your husband.
_Cleor. _ I think, I durst, to save myself from death.
_Crat. _ Then, as a slave, you durst be ravished too?
_Cleor. _ The Gods forbid!
_Crat. _ The Gods cannot forbid it
By any way but death.
_Cleor. _ Then I dare die.
_Crat. _ I told you so; you did not know your virtue.
Poor trembling thing, I'll warm thee in my bosom,
And make thee take death kindly.
[_Another Shout within_--Liberty and Magas!
_Cleon. _ What must become of me?
_Crat. _ More trouble yet about this paltry being?
For shame, no more such qualms!
_Cleon. _ No more such vile mistakes! I would die warm,
And not in women's company, but men's.
Whether some god inspires me to this act,
Or fate inevitably calls me on,
I will not, cannot stay:
But, as a generous, unfleshed hound, that hears
From far the hunters' horn and chearful cry,
So will I haste; and, by the music led,
Come up with death or honour. [_Exit. _
_Cleor. _ Stop him, dear mother; he may comfort us,
But cannot help his father.
_Crat. _ The hero's blood is not to be controuled;
Even in a child 'tis madly masterful.
But wait we patient with our petty stakes,
Which on those greater gamesters must depend;
For, as they throw, our little lots must follow,
Like sweepings of their heap.
[CRAT. _and_ CLEORA _go in. Trumpets; a Shout within_--Liberty,
Liberty, and Magas!
_Enter_ CLEOMENES, CLEANTHES, PANTHEUS, _followed by some few Egyptians_.
_Cleom. _ What, is this populous city turned a desert?
The cry of "Liberty" runs on before us,
And yet none appears!
By Hercules, we drive them through their town:
They dare not stay to welcome their deliverers.
_Clean. _ The cowards are afraid of what they wish;
And, could they be their own, they would be ours.
_Cleom. _ They're gone; we talk to houses and to walls.
_Panth. _ Not so; I see some peeping from their doors. --
What are you? friends, or foes?
_Four Egyptians appear, peeping from the opposite Entrances of the Stage. _
_1 Egypt. _ Friends, friends; all honest men,
And hearty to the cause.
_Clean. _ Explain what cause; and give the general cry.
_1 and 2 Egypt. _ Liberty and Magas.
_Cleom. _ [_In their Tone. _] Liberty and Magas!
The cowards whisper liberty so softly,
As if they were afraid the gods would hear it,
And take them at their word.
_1 Egypt. _ No, friend: We vulgar never fear the gods; but we whisper,
for fear our o'erthwart neighbours should hear us cry, Liberty, and
betray us to the government.
_Clean. _ Of what side are you there? [_To the opposite Egyptian. _
_3 Egypt. _ That's according as you succeed: of your side hitherto.
_Panth. _ If you are men, come join with us.
_4 Egypt. _ You are too few for us to join with you; but
get the greater party of your side, and we'll be sure
to help the common cry.
_Cleom. _ Dare you do nothing to assert your freedom?
_3 Egypt. _ Yes,--we'll pray devoutly for you.
_Clean. _ The brave pray with their swords; that's a man's part.
_4 Egypt. _ Praying with our swords, the law calls fighting; and
fighting is bloodshed; and bloodshed is hanging; and hanging is the
part of a dog, and not of a man, in my opinion.
_1 Egypt. _ Every one for himself. [_Egyptian Trumpets within. _
The government is a coming.
[_They shrink back in a Fright, and clap the Doors. _
_Clean. _ Run! couch, you cowards, to your tyrant lords.
A dog you worship, and partake his nature;
A race of speaking spaniels.
_Panth. _ Let them go; we'll do our work without them.
_Clean. _ The comfort is, our foes are like our friends;
Holiday heroes, drawn out once a month,
At public charge, to eat, and to be drunk;
Mere mouths of war.
_Enter_ SOSIBIUS _and_ CŒNUS, _at the Head of many Egyptians:
They, who spoke before, bolt out of their Doors, and join with
them_.
_Sosib. _ 'Twas what I always feared,--even when I saved thee,--
To find thee thus engaged among my foes:
But yet, submit; and I can yet forgive thee.
Consider,--for 'tis all I've time to say,--
Thou fight'st against thy father.
_Clean. _ Against my father's cause, but not my father:
If you would needs become yourself a slave,
And get me such, I must redeem us both,
And will, or perish in the brave attempt.
_Sosib. _ Withdraw thyself from ruin, I command thee.
_Clean. _ Command I cannot; but I beg you, sir,
Engage not for an arbitrary power,
That odious weight upon a free-born soul.
_Sosib. _ This is too much. --Fall on, but spare my son.
_Enter_ CASSANDRA, _attended_.
_Cas. _ Sosibius, hold! Withdraw your men to distance.
You know this signet: Obey your king in me. [_Shews the Signet. _
_Sosib. _ Never more gladly; though my son's a rebel,
Yet nature works to save him.
_Cas. _ Then rather than he should untimely fall,
[CŒNUS _draws off_ SOSIBIUS'S _Men_.
I would forgive the rest, and offer life
Even to that fugitive, if he please to treat.
_Cleom. _ Be short; and, if you can, for once, sincere.
_Cas. _ What can you hope from this unequal fight,
Where numbers rise from every foe you kill,
And grow from their defeat?
_Cleom. _ We come resolved;
And to die killing, is a kind of conquest.
_Cas. _ But are not life and freedom worth accepting,
When offered; and, with such conditions too,
As make them both more pleasing? Your friend's safety,
Your son, your mother, and that only she
Who loves you best, for your companion home:--
You know what she I mean. [_Aside to him. _
_Cleom. _ No private parley; [_Stepping back. _
Spartans do all in public.
_Clean. _ We know your reasons for these secret whispers;
And to your infamy--
_Cleom. _ [_Aside to him. _] Peace, peace, my friend.
No injuries from women can provoke
A man of honour to expose their fame. --
Madam, we understand each other well:
My son, my mother, and my wife restored,
'Tis peace; if not, 'tis war.
_Sosib. _ A fair proposal: Be it peace.
_Cas. _ No, fool! 'tis war. --Know, heavy hero, know,
I gained this time for my secure revenge;
To seize thy wife and mother: and, to stab thee
On both sides of thy heart, they're gone to die,
To make thy death more painful. Farewell, traitor!
And thank thyself, not me. [_Ex. _ CAS. _and_ SOSIB.
_Cleom. _ Revenge, revenge,
And speedy death, or conquest! --Hold, Cleanthes!
_Enter_ CLEONICAS.
Poor boy!
By heaven, I'm pleased to see thee safe this moment,
Though I expect the next to lose thee. --Guard him,
Cleanthes: Set him safe behind the front.
_Clean. _ Come, sir, you are now my charge.
_Cleon. _ The gods forbid
That I should seek this danger, and not share it. --
[_To_ CLEON. ] Forgive me, sir, that once I disobey you,
To prove myself your son; living, or dying,
I'll not be less than man.
_Cleom. _ Oh! I could chide thee;
But there's no time for love and anger both.
Fight by my side; and heaven protect thy courage.
[CLEOMENES, CLEANTHES, CLEONIDAS, _and their Party go off the
Stage, to fight the Egyptians. Trumpets, Drums, Shouts, and
Clashings within. _
_Re-enter both Parties; the Egyptians first, driven by_ CLEOMENES;
PANTHEUS _ready to kill_ SOSIBIUS, _as having him down:_ CLEANTHES
_runs to him and interposes_.
_Clean. _ Pantheus, hold; or turn thy sword on me.
_Panth. _ [_To_ SOSIB. ] Rise, sir; and thank your son.
