Not puny, driveling men, but
countless
hosts
Of glorious angels, has It doomed to woe.
Of glorious angels, has It doomed to woe.
Krasinski - The Undivine Comedy
The desert kings on which
I set my feet are stronger far than you ;
I've throttled tigers in the arena sands:
But I was hungry, you have given me food ;
Was thirsty, you have given me golden wine ;
29*
338 I RID I ON.
And as I waited for you in your hall,
I heard your gladiators bless your name.
I cannot kill you. To-morrow I will fall
Into the famished tiger's jaws, — Farewell !
Iridion. That shall not be ! Live, and avenge your
wrongs !
Ho, Pilades ! Give to this man a tunic,
An iron ring, as worn by all my household,
And add a hundred sesterces. Your name?
Gladiator. I'm only known as Roman Sporus now.
Iridion. A certain pride lies latent in your speech;
A smouldering fire, shining like lamps through rents
In sepulchres, speaks of a better past ;
You're more than slave, — give me your real name!
Gladiator. Like gods, my sires were once revered in
Rome
And in the Senate. The past is past forever !
My name is Lucius Tiberius Scipio.
Iridion. Slave, you dream ! That race has long since
perished.
Gladiator. Perished but in its country's memory!
The last of us they chose to recollect
Was robbed of wealth at home and fame abroad ; ^
Then Nero stole his wife and banished him
To the Chersonesus ; after many years
His son returned, a beggar, back to Rome,
Since which we've been in utter poverty;
My father was a gladiator, Greek.
Iridion. Why have the older Romans not received
you ?
Gladiator. Why, who would aid an old patrician's
son ?
The children of the lictors, now rich Lords,
The Emperor, sworn foe of all the past?
Dragged from the sands of the amphitheatre.
My father in the spoliarium died,*
Cursing the gods. Oh, may the city which
Has thus betrayed the children of her consuls,
* "Spoliarium. " The place close by the amphitheatre, in which the
gladiators who had received mortal wounds were dragged to die.
IRIDION.
339
Fall into ruin ! {^He takes up his sword. ) Say but the
word, and I
Will kill Rupilius, — that upstart Roman !
Iridion. To murder one where thousands are required,
Were folly ! Save your strength for nobler work !
Gladiator. Should such work come with vengeance in
its grasp,
I can bring Cassius, Verres, Sylla, men
Of races old as mine, wretched like me,
Who only dream revenge.
Iridion. Bring them all here.
They shall find support, and a home with me.
Masinissa. The infernal gods never refuse revenge
To those who seek it with their heart and soul!
{Exit Gladiator. )
Iridion. Old man, I conquer ! I shall surely conquer !
Ha ! ha ! ye fierce old tyrants ! Ye who led
My ancestors in chains to grace your triumphs,
Who ruined Carthage, Syracuse and Corinth,
The last of your proud Scipios is the slave
And tool of the Greek ! He came to-day to beg
For bread, and murder! {Laughs. ) Drain this cup, old
man.
To the health of the noble Scipios ! Ha ! Ha !
{He fills the cup, and hands it to Masinissa. )
Masinissa. Long life to the Scipios!
{He returns the cup to Iridion. )
Iridion {drinks and fiings away the cup). Thus may the
pride
Of Rome lie shattered 'neath our vengeful feet !
Masinissa. Sigurd, we're hourly gaining force and
power.
But until Nazareth be won to aid us.
We never can succeed.
Iridion. Old man, the God to whom they bend the knee.
Stretched out his arms to die for them, beneath
The darkened vaults of Heaven. His Spirit came.
Descended on my brow in holy water
Full of high power and mystery ! . . .
A band of pallid brothers stood around
340 iridion:
Chanting my new name ever and again :
" Hieronymus ! Hieronymus! " as sad
As if a funeral train swept through the sky
Unseen l:)y mortal eye, their voices tolled ;
And yet the solemn chant seemed full of hope.
Masinissa. You hung their cross upon your warlike
breast ?
Iridion. I did.
Masinissa. And pressed it to your lips ?
Iridion. I did.
Masinissa. Well done ! Now can we rend their hearts
asunder !
Iridion. Dissension is already busy with them.
I can do nothing with the older Christians ;
They've suffered torture, seen the martyrs die,
The Heavens open, and will not be taught
To wreak retaliation on their foes !
Monotonous as is the dash of waves
Forever breaking on the self-same rock,
Their words recur perpetually : " Forgive
Your enemies ! Forget all injuries !
Pray for your foes, and love your murderers ! "
To them I dare not even speak of vengeance !
But with the young disciples, the new converts,
Barbarians, pilgrims from the desert, slaves
And soldiers, I am more successful far.
Stronger vitality throbs in their veins ;
Eyes flash at the words shame and martyrdom ;
They thirst for life and bliss. When I approached
Them first, they too would pray for foes and murderers,
But now the wild blood throbs against their wills
In their full veins, and I can sometimes catch
Even a furtive curse upon their trembling lips !
Masinissa. To incorporate a force in human passions,
A force not of this world, we need a woman.
Ah ! they adore a woman; a frail being,
Precocious in old age, yet an eternal infant !
Upon the ruins of their carnal lusts
They build a strange, mysterious worship, and bow
Before a woman, slave to her husband's will !
Virgins there are who pass their lives in prayer ;
IRIDION. 341
Choose from among them one fo^/^"ifice
Stamp on her soul yourself, your being, thoughts
Through her alone they'll germ into brave deeds !
She wm not understand their hidden scope,
But well reflect them to the outer world,
Eorne on and overpowered, almost crazed
By that male powei which burns in the heart of a man !
Jridion I know a maiden, holy, blessed, pure ;
She <^ladlv talks to me of faith and Heaven.
Mallsa ^asidey I've touched the strings, they
answer !
{To Iridion. ') Her eye is dark.
Dewy and lustrous ; in years almost a child ;
And with her dies the old Metellus line.
Iridion. Why do you ask me, since you know it all?
Masinissa. Do not forget to praise the Crucified,
To kiss the cruel nails that pierced His tiesh ;
She loves that body with its ghastly wounds.
The features which she dreams so fair, the eyes
Which in their sockets die through might of love. —
She never knew Him ; did not see Him when
He ac^onized in hideous contortions.
Livid with pain : nor saw the thorn-crowned face
All stained with trickling blood, convulsed and drawn,
Its shuddering anguish darkening into death ;
Nor heard the black storm whistle through the hair
Streaming disordered in the wind ! . . .
Lead all her thoughts from Him, and fix them on
Yourself! He is far ! far ! Though once upon
The earth. He never will return— and you
Are near, in the young flush of life, and full
Of love,— and you must win her soul, and be her god !
O Alma Venus! Eros to our aid !
Iridion. Ah ! who can comprehend her mystic lite.
Who read the secrets of her virgin soul?
Within the gloom of the sad catacombs
She lives unknown to earth, and vowed to pain,
Surrounded by that sovereign majesty
Which ever marks its voluntary victims.
Her face is calm ; so full of heavenly light
342
IRIDION.
Phidias himself could ne'er have caught its charm.
With her last sigli passes away this beauty,
With its divinity of pathos, from the earth.
Against her I am powerless, old man.
Masinissa. Why do you linger? doubt ? She must be
yours !
Not for voluptuous pleasure, idle jest.
But that I know our cause exacts her ruin,
As question demands answer, tones their chord.
Son, when her head shall rest upon your breast,
Her bosom throb, as throbs man's simple slave,
Her heavenly soul forget itself, and sink
In vain illusions of the flesh, — then
True friends will aid us in the catacombs !
My spirit will be with you, and revenge
Take flesh ; embodied — ruin Rome ! {^He retires. ')
Iridion. Stay, Masinissa !
Masinissa. What would Iridion ?
Iridion. Answer as friend — nay more — as judge severe !
Examine every act, word, thought, wish, hope,
From boyhood's happy days — when I could laugh
Unconscious of revenge, my country's shame —
Recall them all ! Dost understand, old man? . . .
Masinissa. Why is your voice so broken ? face so pale?
Iridion. All that is sweet and holy for a man,
Is sacrilege for me — yet I have borne it !
Have I not always kept the utmost faith,
With the ferocious virtue wliich I i)ledged
The vengeful Furies? immolated all?
Has there till now been found on me a stain
Of useless pity or compassion ? Speak !
Masinissa. To know nor pity nor remorse, is yet not
action.
Words are for boys ! deeds are for full-grown men.
You have as yet brought forth no fitting act ;
Your children sleep in swaddling bands of nothingness;
You rest unknown to fame and therefore weak !
Incorporate your soul in daring deeds,
Then in your work you'll live ! your work in you!
Iridion. Alas ! the gods have planted in my breast
That which must be forever useless to me !
IRIDION.
343
I feel the subtle poison swell my heart,
Burn round my brow, and press beneath my eyelids : —
Women would call it tears! . . . Is it that I
Am never destined to become a man ?
Masinissa. This coward weakness marks you most as
man !
Do you not know that each of you might be
Omnipotent through invincible intellect,
Implacable and never-swerving will?
Your mortal enemy foresaw this power ;
To neutralize your force he placed a heart
Within your breast — a dread — and an illusion
You caress as slaves who have accepted their own shame !
This gift makes slaves of women ; boys of men;
Divides the being, and erects itself
In opposition to the mighty brain ;
And thus both heart and brain are paralyzed,
And endless war weakens the human soul !
Thus the Great Foe perpetuates his rule,
Making you wretched, miserable, weak, —
Although to hurl this Foe from His high Throne
If men should will it, might be possible.
Iridion. Who makes me wretched, miserable, weak?
Where is the Enemy whom you denounce?
I know but one Great Foe : — his name is Rome !
Masinissa. There is another, a far higher Rome :
Not weakly stands It on the seven hills.
But reigns o'er infinite worlds and endless stars.
Not puny, driveling men, but countless hosts
Of glorious angels, has It doomed to woe.
Like fools men bend before It, chant its praise
For leave to be so wretched, while the wronged
And beautiful Immortals loudly call
Upon them for revenge on this Great Foe !
Iridion. Incomprehensible and fearful one.
What is it that you thus proclaim to me?
Masinissa. Eternal war !
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.
I set my feet are stronger far than you ;
I've throttled tigers in the arena sands:
But I was hungry, you have given me food ;
Was thirsty, you have given me golden wine ;
29*
338 I RID I ON.
And as I waited for you in your hall,
I heard your gladiators bless your name.
I cannot kill you. To-morrow I will fall
Into the famished tiger's jaws, — Farewell !
Iridion. That shall not be ! Live, and avenge your
wrongs !
Ho, Pilades ! Give to this man a tunic,
An iron ring, as worn by all my household,
And add a hundred sesterces. Your name?
Gladiator. I'm only known as Roman Sporus now.
Iridion. A certain pride lies latent in your speech;
A smouldering fire, shining like lamps through rents
In sepulchres, speaks of a better past ;
You're more than slave, — give me your real name!
Gladiator. Like gods, my sires were once revered in
Rome
And in the Senate. The past is past forever !
My name is Lucius Tiberius Scipio.
Iridion. Slave, you dream ! That race has long since
perished.
Gladiator. Perished but in its country's memory!
The last of us they chose to recollect
Was robbed of wealth at home and fame abroad ; ^
Then Nero stole his wife and banished him
To the Chersonesus ; after many years
His son returned, a beggar, back to Rome,
Since which we've been in utter poverty;
My father was a gladiator, Greek.
Iridion. Why have the older Romans not received
you ?
Gladiator. Why, who would aid an old patrician's
son ?
The children of the lictors, now rich Lords,
The Emperor, sworn foe of all the past?
Dragged from the sands of the amphitheatre.
My father in the spoliarium died,*
Cursing the gods. Oh, may the city which
Has thus betrayed the children of her consuls,
* "Spoliarium. " The place close by the amphitheatre, in which the
gladiators who had received mortal wounds were dragged to die.
IRIDION.
339
Fall into ruin ! {^He takes up his sword. ) Say but the
word, and I
Will kill Rupilius, — that upstart Roman !
Iridion. To murder one where thousands are required,
Were folly ! Save your strength for nobler work !
Gladiator. Should such work come with vengeance in
its grasp,
I can bring Cassius, Verres, Sylla, men
Of races old as mine, wretched like me,
Who only dream revenge.
Iridion. Bring them all here.
They shall find support, and a home with me.
Masinissa. The infernal gods never refuse revenge
To those who seek it with their heart and soul!
{Exit Gladiator. )
Iridion. Old man, I conquer ! I shall surely conquer !
Ha ! ha ! ye fierce old tyrants ! Ye who led
My ancestors in chains to grace your triumphs,
Who ruined Carthage, Syracuse and Corinth,
The last of your proud Scipios is the slave
And tool of the Greek ! He came to-day to beg
For bread, and murder! {Laughs. ) Drain this cup, old
man.
To the health of the noble Scipios ! Ha ! Ha !
{He fills the cup, and hands it to Masinissa. )
Masinissa. Long life to the Scipios!
{He returns the cup to Iridion. )
Iridion {drinks and fiings away the cup). Thus may the
pride
Of Rome lie shattered 'neath our vengeful feet !
Masinissa. Sigurd, we're hourly gaining force and
power.
But until Nazareth be won to aid us.
We never can succeed.
Iridion. Old man, the God to whom they bend the knee.
Stretched out his arms to die for them, beneath
The darkened vaults of Heaven. His Spirit came.
Descended on my brow in holy water
Full of high power and mystery ! . . .
A band of pallid brothers stood around
340 iridion:
Chanting my new name ever and again :
" Hieronymus ! Hieronymus! " as sad
As if a funeral train swept through the sky
Unseen l:)y mortal eye, their voices tolled ;
And yet the solemn chant seemed full of hope.
Masinissa. You hung their cross upon your warlike
breast ?
Iridion. I did.
Masinissa. And pressed it to your lips ?
Iridion. I did.
Masinissa. Well done ! Now can we rend their hearts
asunder !
Iridion. Dissension is already busy with them.
I can do nothing with the older Christians ;
They've suffered torture, seen the martyrs die,
The Heavens open, and will not be taught
To wreak retaliation on their foes !
Monotonous as is the dash of waves
Forever breaking on the self-same rock,
Their words recur perpetually : " Forgive
Your enemies ! Forget all injuries !
Pray for your foes, and love your murderers ! "
To them I dare not even speak of vengeance !
But with the young disciples, the new converts,
Barbarians, pilgrims from the desert, slaves
And soldiers, I am more successful far.
Stronger vitality throbs in their veins ;
Eyes flash at the words shame and martyrdom ;
They thirst for life and bliss. When I approached
Them first, they too would pray for foes and murderers,
But now the wild blood throbs against their wills
In their full veins, and I can sometimes catch
Even a furtive curse upon their trembling lips !
Masinissa. To incorporate a force in human passions,
A force not of this world, we need a woman.
Ah ! they adore a woman; a frail being,
Precocious in old age, yet an eternal infant !
Upon the ruins of their carnal lusts
They build a strange, mysterious worship, and bow
Before a woman, slave to her husband's will !
Virgins there are who pass their lives in prayer ;
IRIDION. 341
Choose from among them one fo^/^"ifice
Stamp on her soul yourself, your being, thoughts
Through her alone they'll germ into brave deeds !
She wm not understand their hidden scope,
But well reflect them to the outer world,
Eorne on and overpowered, almost crazed
By that male powei which burns in the heart of a man !
Jridion I know a maiden, holy, blessed, pure ;
She <^ladlv talks to me of faith and Heaven.
Mallsa ^asidey I've touched the strings, they
answer !
{To Iridion. ') Her eye is dark.
Dewy and lustrous ; in years almost a child ;
And with her dies the old Metellus line.
Iridion. Why do you ask me, since you know it all?
Masinissa. Do not forget to praise the Crucified,
To kiss the cruel nails that pierced His tiesh ;
She loves that body with its ghastly wounds.
The features which she dreams so fair, the eyes
Which in their sockets die through might of love. —
She never knew Him ; did not see Him when
He ac^onized in hideous contortions.
Livid with pain : nor saw the thorn-crowned face
All stained with trickling blood, convulsed and drawn,
Its shuddering anguish darkening into death ;
Nor heard the black storm whistle through the hair
Streaming disordered in the wind ! . . .
Lead all her thoughts from Him, and fix them on
Yourself! He is far ! far ! Though once upon
The earth. He never will return— and you
Are near, in the young flush of life, and full
Of love,— and you must win her soul, and be her god !
O Alma Venus! Eros to our aid !
Iridion. Ah ! who can comprehend her mystic lite.
Who read the secrets of her virgin soul?
Within the gloom of the sad catacombs
She lives unknown to earth, and vowed to pain,
Surrounded by that sovereign majesty
Which ever marks its voluntary victims.
Her face is calm ; so full of heavenly light
342
IRIDION.
Phidias himself could ne'er have caught its charm.
With her last sigli passes away this beauty,
With its divinity of pathos, from the earth.
Against her I am powerless, old man.
Masinissa. Why do you linger? doubt ? She must be
yours !
Not for voluptuous pleasure, idle jest.
But that I know our cause exacts her ruin,
As question demands answer, tones their chord.
Son, when her head shall rest upon your breast,
Her bosom throb, as throbs man's simple slave,
Her heavenly soul forget itself, and sink
In vain illusions of the flesh, — then
True friends will aid us in the catacombs !
My spirit will be with you, and revenge
Take flesh ; embodied — ruin Rome ! {^He retires. ')
Iridion. Stay, Masinissa !
Masinissa. What would Iridion ?
Iridion. Answer as friend — nay more — as judge severe !
Examine every act, word, thought, wish, hope,
From boyhood's happy days — when I could laugh
Unconscious of revenge, my country's shame —
Recall them all ! Dost understand, old man? . . .
Masinissa. Why is your voice so broken ? face so pale?
Iridion. All that is sweet and holy for a man,
Is sacrilege for me — yet I have borne it !
Have I not always kept the utmost faith,
With the ferocious virtue wliich I i)ledged
The vengeful Furies? immolated all?
Has there till now been found on me a stain
Of useless pity or compassion ? Speak !
Masinissa. To know nor pity nor remorse, is yet not
action.
Words are for boys ! deeds are for full-grown men.
You have as yet brought forth no fitting act ;
Your children sleep in swaddling bands of nothingness;
You rest unknown to fame and therefore weak !
Incorporate your soul in daring deeds,
Then in your work you'll live ! your work in you!
Iridion. Alas ! the gods have planted in my breast
That which must be forever useless to me !
IRIDION.
343
I feel the subtle poison swell my heart,
Burn round my brow, and press beneath my eyelids : —
Women would call it tears! . . . Is it that I
Am never destined to become a man ?
Masinissa. This coward weakness marks you most as
man !
Do you not know that each of you might be
Omnipotent through invincible intellect,
Implacable and never-swerving will?
Your mortal enemy foresaw this power ;
To neutralize your force he placed a heart
Within your breast — a dread — and an illusion
You caress as slaves who have accepted their own shame !
This gift makes slaves of women ; boys of men;
Divides the being, and erects itself
In opposition to the mighty brain ;
And thus both heart and brain are paralyzed,
And endless war weakens the human soul !
Thus the Great Foe perpetuates his rule,
Making you wretched, miserable, weak, —
Although to hurl this Foe from His high Throne
If men should will it, might be possible.
Iridion. Who makes me wretched, miserable, weak?
Where is the Enemy whom you denounce?
I know but one Great Foe : — his name is Rome !
Masinissa. There is another, a far higher Rome :
Not weakly stands It on the seven hills.
But reigns o'er infinite worlds and endless stars.
Not puny, driveling men, but countless hosts
Of glorious angels, has It doomed to woe.
Like fools men bend before It, chant its praise
For leave to be so wretched, while the wronged
And beautiful Immortals loudly call
Upon them for revenge on this Great Foe !
Iridion. Incomprehensible and fearful one.
What is it that you thus proclaim to me?
Masinissa. Eternal war !
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.
