No More Learning

)

SCENE n. Another part of the palace of the CcBsars. A
peristyW in which Mammea is sitting before a sacrificial
altar ; Alexander Severus is at her side. An open
antechamber is visible in the background.

Mammea. Tears often fill his eyes, he rarely smiles,
His features are like Plato's in the form,
But sadder in the expression ; even his foes
Cannot resist his holy influence.

27



3IO



IRIDION.



Alexander. My heart hangs daily more upon his doc-
trines.

Miifumea. The sum of earthly wisdom, only hope
Of life eternal, bliss beyond the grave.
Lie in our Bishop's creed-

(DoMiTiAN is seen hi the antechamber. ^
{Mammea rises. ) Domitian ! can it be?

Alexander {throwing himself into the arms of Domitian').
Dearest of men ! My earliest teacher ! friend !

Do7nitian. Be of good cheer, — I bring great news,
Mammea.

Mammea. How long you have been silent ! Darkest
fears
Filled my wrung soul ; I thank the gods they are
Not to be realized !

JDomitiafi. I did not write

From Antioch, because I had no messenger
Whom I could trust. The nearer grows our work
To its allotted end, the more we need
Caution and silence, — soon our aim we'll reach!

Mammea. Speak ! speak !

Dofnitian {looking carefully around him). Are these
walls deaf and dumb?

Alexander. Fear not !

But yesterday Roboam, the Emperor's dwarf.
Brought me a basket filled with poisoned fruit,
Which I spurned with my foot. Our breach is open ;
My disgust is known.

Domitian. Be patient, Alexander,

That here your foes may deem you still a child.
Great changes always generate in calm !
What would have been the consequence if I
In Laodicea, Smyrna, Ephesus,
And Antioch had cried aloud for vengeance.
Proclaimed the Emperor unfit to reign
Or live? . . . I spake no word, was silent everywhere,
But closely watched the People, Legions, Cohorts.
I marked the general murmurs ; when convinced
The germs of hate were ripe, that all hearts longed for

change, —
Then only did I whisper to myself:



IRIDION. 311

The time has come, the spark is widely thrown,

All Asia kindles into flame ! Then first

Did I hold secret converse with the Tribunes,

Questors, Prtetorians. The hour to speak

Had struck, and, shaping my temptation to

The individual wishes of each man

Whom I desired to win, my course began.

To some I offered gain ; some, higher rank ;

Some, wider influence ; thus I gained friends.

Closed contracts for efficient services.

But when I heard that Heliogabalus

Had named you Consul, I began to fear

Some dark design lurked 'neath this specious favor;

I hurried back to Rome to offer you,

In the legions' name, a hope, nay, promise of

The highest destiny ! Be patient ; let

But a short time pass quietly away,

And then our day of liberation comes !

Alexander. But why delay, even until to-morrow ?

Domitian. Because in Rome the Emperor is thronged
By men devoted to him, on account
Of his new shows, and by the praetorians,
Who worship him as the very god of gold
And vast expenditure.

The people always love, until they murder, Caesar !
The men encamped without the city gates
Favor our project.

Alexander. Aristomachus said

This very day, that he would risk his life
To serve Mammea or myself.

Domitian. And when

The hour of tumult strikes there's none like him ;
Until it does, he must be cautious, silent !
He can but serve us in the day of combat ;
And there is much to do ere it begins.
Think of the swarms of guards around the palace ;
The soldiers scattered everywhere through Rome ;
And the whole East against us ! The Syrians ne'er
Forget Heliogabalus, as the bright
And beautiful boy they knew in Emesa;
Or later as their glittering High-Priest



312



IRIDION.



In the Temple of the Sun. Remember too
There is a potent force but in tlie seeming
Of regal power; the natne of Potentate
Compels long after real strength and might
Have passed away, — for empty sounds and words
Rule men when all they typified is dust !

Mammea. You speak the truth, Domitian, yet haste !
We are surrounded by his tools and slaves !
The grave yawns at our feet !
Poison at any hour may drive the blood
From my own cheeks; my son, my joy, my pride,
May bow his bright head on my breast, and die
On the heart of his wretched mother !

Domitian. This very day

I'll see Aristomachus, Tubero . . .

i^He approaches Alexander. ')
Successor of Augustus, have no fear
That the wise Fates will cut your thread of life
Until you've reigned o'er men ! Surely the gods
Will pity this oppressed and wretched realm !
But when you rule this mighty Empire, then
Beware of the poison hidden in the true shirt
Of Dejanira, — the purple of the Caesars !

Mammea. Do you not know that Rome's last glory,
hope.
Rests in my son alone? From Plato's words,
And Christ's diviner teachings, I've instilled
Into his soul love for his fellow-men,
And pity for outraged humanity.
To the oppressed and wretched he will stretch
A Brother's hand.

Domitian. Better he had been taught

To punish rebels ! In all the Asian marts
I've seen the Roman knights with the freedmen fraternize !
Placed on the bench of law and justice, with
The scales and swords committed to their charge,
They ruled the world ; but only used their power
To advance themselves ! They sent swift messengers
With false intelligence to depress or raise
The prices of commodities to suit their views,
Robbing poor wretches of their property, —



IRIDION.



313



Then, from the Roman senate winning aid,
In gloomy prisons they immured their victims,
Or nailed them to the cross ! Oh, I have seen
Their torments, — turned away mine eye in horror !

Alexander. The descendants of our Consuls, famed
Dictators !

Domitian. Yet these enormities now serve our cause,
Will form the steps to lead you to the throne ;
When firmly seated on it you may fling
The stairs into the bottomless abyss :
More than Christ's lessons here will be required !

Alexander. I know the difiiculties in my path,
But my nights pass in studying Trajan's deeds;
I hope to equal him or else die young !

Domitian. Think also of the Republic ; of the men
Who wore the Toga ! Ah ! what remains to us
Of all their glorious examples? Where
Is that great Roman people, whose just laws
Made sweeter, higher music to my ears
Than Plato's subtle dreams or Homer's songs?
Who now can see in Rome a face unstained
By shame, or hear a laugh of hearty joy ?
Gray hairs on heads without a deed of honor ;
Oppression adding weight to hapless years !
Augurs and dancers, singers, sophists, fools,
Burden the Forum ; centuries have flown
Since the brave Julius crossed the Rubicon.
It is impossible to turn back now ;
Even in Cassius' days it was too late ;
The gods have left us nothing but to pray
A Ruler shall be sent us, in whose love
Of justice, right, the Empire may regain
Its youth, even if the lictor's axe must fall
Where the green olive-branch should bud and bloom !

Mammea. I have known earnest, holy men in the
East,
Who say that better times are dawning o'er us,
And that in spite of all its present woe.
The Empire will rejoice under the rule
Of a just Caesar, knowing the true God.

Domitian. A Nazarene ! I pass my life, Augusta,
27*



314



IRIDION.



In thoughts upon divine and human things,
And have no time to follow all the worms
Burrowing and undermining this old earth !

Afanwiea. Still groping in the night of ancient preju-
dice?

Domitian. Great Jupiter, heed not her godless words !
I'm an old Roman ; brought up to revere
Our memories of freedom, fame, although
Before my day such glories were no more !
Now bending to its fall, the kingdom bears
This brood of Nazarenes : to purge it quite,
They must be all destroyed 1

{Advancing to Alexander and seizing him by the ann. )
And by such means alone
As made Rome great, can it be renovated ;
I'hrough dauntless courage, and the forms severe
Of its ancient fathers; — foreign creeds and laws
Must be destroyed and banished !

Alexander. My mother loves,

Reveres the Christians; patience and fortitude.
Mild but heroic virtues, mark their creed.
Domitian, look, her eyes are full of tears !
She loves the Christians ; they would die for me !

Domitian. Use them as tools to be destroyed when
done with,
Is my last counsel with regard to them.
{Music heard approaching. ) Hark! Syrian flutes ! Does

the High-Priest of Mithras
Perchance announce a visit to his brother?

Mamjnea. Not so, for at this hour he daily visits
The gardens of the Palatine with Elsinoe.

Doinitian. Many reports, all evil, circulate
In the East about this Greek; it was said there
Her brother labored long to enhance her price;
Then shamefully to Csesar sold his sister.

Mam7tiea. Did you believe it?

Vomitiafi. My gray hairs long ago

At baseness ceased to wonder ; your dark locks
May fail to understand it !

Mainmea. You knew Amphilochus,

And must remember the still dignity



IRIDIC N. -,e

With which he bore himself when he arrived,

In the time of the great Septimius. ^ Abroad,

Or in the walls of his own palace, calm

And majesty ruled all his words and acts.

And made him seem a second Caesar in

Our haughty city.

Do})iitian. All you say is true, —

Yet it proves nothing ! The sons of noblest sires

Now crawl in dust, and eat the bread of shame.

For proof of this, look at the Roman senate,

The fallen People.

Alexander. I can say naught against Iridion.

Although no youthful frankness marks his moods

Nor plays upon his pale and chiseled face,

Yet something noble breathes from his whole being !

I cannot read what throbs at the core of his heart,

But I am sure there's neither fear nor baseness !

Domitian. How is his conduct then to be explained ?
Alexander. Necessity inexorable, blind
And pitiless; inevitable Fate !
Sometimes the Emperor met Iridion
With Elsinoe in the street ; sometimes
Their chariots met in Flavian's circus; I
Have seen the blue veins swell upon my brother's brow.
The golden reins with which he drives his lions
Fall from his hands at sight of Elsinoe.
By Venus ! all there present gazed with him;
A virgin more divinely beautiful
Was never seen by men !

Domitian. When I was wont

To visit brave Amphilochus, she was.
As is the custom with the Greeks, immured
In the Gyneceum, only seen by women.

Alexander. She has no equal in this Empire vast !
The night of her arrival, I was in
The Hall of Narcissus with the Emperor ;
I was in favor then, he leaned on me.
And clasped me in his arms, and gnashed his teeth.
Impatient as a boy. I trembled with
Compassion for the maid; sometimes I thought
I heard strife, struggle, and the sobs of pain,



3i6 I RID I ON.

Then the Praetorian Prefect, the Court Fool,

Eutychian, entered, murmured to his master:

"The gold-haired Greek in the ivory chariot

Waits at your gate. " Then male and female dwarfs,

With the Ethiopians, and Lydian flutists,

Thronged in to welcome the imperial Bride.

The Emperor danced about in childish glee,

Crying: " She comes ! she comes ! the sunny-haired ! "

Still Elsinoe came not ! in her place

Entered a band of brawny gladiators,

All clad in black, and armed with naked swords,

Unknown at court. My brother hung his head,

And bit me in his sudden fright ; meanwhile

Eutychian announced with a wild laugh,

Iridion, son of great Amphilochus,

Had sent these bands as present to his sister.

Their close ranks opened as he spake, and lo ! —

Surrounded on all sides by this wild escort,

Appeared for the first time fair Elsinoe.

JDomitian. Fainting with terror in her women's arms?

Alexander. No. In the Hall she stood erect, and gave
No signs of terror, reverence, nor obeisance.
Perhaps her head a moment sank, but soon
Recovering herself, she raised her brow
As haughtily as if already Empress,
Her dazzling eyes filled with indignant flame.
Then Czesar called her to him, but the Greek
Neither approached, nor answered. Cresar then
Dismissed us, and Mammea led her forth.

Domiiian. The old Hellenic blood is in her veins,
Down which the fiery strength of the gods still flows !
But stays her brother at the court? sees he his sister?

Afainmca. The rumor is that he once visited
The Emperor; was closeted with him
For many hours ; but he avoids society,
Remains secluded in his palace with
Barbarians and slaves, on whom he never tires
Of showering benefits.

Domiiian. So did his father.

Mammea. Pleasure can win him not, nor wealth mis-
lead ;



IRIDION.
317



Though one may see that fierce distracting thoughts
Torture his soul, yet is he strong enough
To rule himself, command them into silence.

Domitian. These stormy thoughts may be his fierce
desires
To avenge his sister's shame ! 'Twere best to win
His confidence, and lure him by false aims,
Until prepared to reveal the true. Perhaps
His pride and treasures yet may aid our cause !
But tell me why the Monster rages still.
Having achieved the height of his desires?
Is it not strange this Greek girl keeps her power ?
Once won with him, was whistled down the wind !

Alexander. Eutychian says she will not yield herself
To her new lord ; that since she left her home,
Caesar secludes himself in the peristyle
Of Agrippina, and no more festivals
Are held in the palace.

Domitian. This mystery cannot last :

He'll murder her, that he may burn her on
A pyre of rich perfumes from Araby,
And while directing this new spectacle,
He will accuse _>w^ of high treason ; rob
You of your wealth ; deprive the First, the Best,
Of life; — this shall not be, — he shall himself . . .

Mammea. Domitian ! No ! He must not die the
death
Of his poor predecessors ! The reign of love.
Of mercy, wisdom, must not thus begin
With cruel murder of my sister's son !
Withdraw him gently from the throne, and like
A sleeping child, bear him to banishment !

Domitian. That would require a Nazarene ! Not far
From this same spot, did Brutus kill his father :
And this light soul shall not be sent below.
Where the troubled, but great shade of the first Caesar
went?

Mammea. Ah, woe is me !

A Slave {entering). Iridion, the Greek,

Sends greeting to Severus, Consul, Csesar,
And to his noble mother.



3i8



IRIDION.



Domitian. He comes in happy hour !

Mamrnea. Escort him here.

{Enter Iridion. )
Welcome, Iridion !
Thy brow is clouded still with gloomy thoughts ;
Cannot the cheerful rays of the divine
Sophia* brighten it with hope and trust ?

Iridion. Ask the proud Roman who at Philippi fell
With how much confidence she him inspired?
I cannot answer for my face, Augusta ;
I know my soul is ever cold and tranquil,
Fearing, desiring, hoping, mourning nothing !
How fares it with you, Caesar? Are the gods
Propitious to your prayers?

Alexajider. This very day

My wishes are fulfilled ; they've given me
Domitian back from Antioch.

Iridion. Roman,

I greet you home. If I am not deceived,
I've seen you often 'neath my father's roof.

Domitian. Even now the voice of brave Amphilochus
Seems sounding in my ears ! The gray-haired man
Who made his home with him, — does he still live?

Iridion. Is it Masinissa?

Domitian. I think that was his name.
I've heard your father say he met him first
Upon a tiger-hunt in Syria,
After a day of heat, when faint and lost.

Iridion. My father's friend still sits beside my hearth,
As when my father lived.

Domitian. I ask for him,

Because he often used to startle me
With wondrous thoughts, sarcastic, bitter words.
I've heard him say Tiberius was the greatest
Of all the Cffisars !

Alexander. By the sacred shade
Of Antoninus, how could he prove that?

Domitian. I have forgotten how, but I remember well
That he debated with such skill, brought out

« The Greek 2o0ia, Wisdom.



IRIDION.



319



Such fearless thoughts, such bold conclusions from
The destiny of men, that I grew still.
Silent in horror,

Mammea. I would not like to argue
With such a fearful, subtle reasoner !

JDomitian. When from the magic of his presence freed,
And flow of logic irresistible, —
My mind grew calm, returned to its own thoughts,
As men from drunken dreams restored to soberness !
How is it possible not to curse those
Who oppress humanity and serve injustice,
Who crush our citizens, because they shame
To yield as brutes? Freemen must curse the lictors'
Rods, taunts, axes ! Son of Amphilochus,
Speak I not truth?

Iridiofi. It may be yes — or no, —
As many souls, so many hearts and wills I

Mammea {aside to Alexander). Look at the fiery lips,
the motionless face.
Pale as a statue's, though the eyes are flame !

Alexander. Mother, I'll speak strong and true words
to him.

Mammea. Not yet !

Domitian. You have the right of life and death
Upon your slaves, Iridion, and yet
You do not beat, chain, or imprison them !
The Marcomanni, Suevi, Dacians, all
Who beg in our streets, are never turned away
Unaided from your door, — so says report.

Iridion. My mother was Barbarian !

Domitian. And would her son

Persuade us that he is an Epicurean ?

Iridion. By the Olympic Zeus, the times are not
Propitious for a Stoic !

Mammea. I shall not live to see the better days ;
But you, Iridion, and Alexander,
Are entering life through the golden gates of youth,
Which like a lovely dream floats o'er your heads,
Inviting you to trust all sweet presentiments.
Iridion, despair suits not my son, nor you !

Alexander. Give me your hand.



320 IRIDION.

Son of Amphilochus ! Misfortune links
Men often close as love ; let us be friends,
That we together may rejoice in happier hours.

IriJion. Thanks, noble Roman ! I am sure the gods
Must love you well to leave you such sweet hopes !
Sooner or later yet awaits us both
The same sad end, — death and oblivion !

Domitian {to Afammea). Either he cheats us with
Hellenic art,
Or Jupiter has moulded him of wax.
{Aloud. ^ And if the present fraud should change to

truth.
And if the shadows now so thick o'er earth
Were to disperse, as clouds before the wind.
And virtue brighten the abyss of crime, —
What course would you pursue, Iridion ?

Iridion. Honor the gods by thanks and sacrifice !

Domitian. Would you do nothing to advance so blest
A day? We play with suppositions now.
As men with dice; speak of the improbable
Simply for pastime : do you understand me ?

Iridion. Better than you do me !

Domitiufi. Well, what reply ?

Iridion. By Odin ! Order such a day to call on me,
And I will answer it in trumpet tones !

Domitian. Do not forget !

Alexander. Remember, Greek !

Iridion. Romans,

I never will forget this hour ! Consul,
We meet again !

Domitian. Where now, Iridion?

Iridion. Some friends await me on the Aventine.
A festival will there be held ; new songs
Be given by the Siculian Poet. I go
To pass the time which hangs so heavily upon us !

Domitian. Young Greek, you go to drown the gener-
ous thoughts
Prompting your inmost soul, in riot and unrest !

Iridion. Why, Lucius Munimius left us Greeks naught
here
Save death or pleasure !



r RID I ON. 321

Long life to Alexander
And Augusta !

(yExit Iridion. ')

Domitian {looking after him). No, Mammea, from that
clay
We mould no solid support to our cause.

SCENE III. Another part of the imperial palace. A
long atrium zuith its impluvium in the midst. Fauns,
satyrs, and nvmphs adorn the walls in mosaic and fresco ;
tortoises, scorpions, and crocodiles carved in stone stand
upon pillars of jasper ; statues of Venus and Bacchus
near the entrance ; here and there are groups of court-
iers, prcetorians, dancers, musicians, aiid dwatfs. Eu-
TYCHiAN, Prefect of the Prcetorians ; Rupilius, Cubul-
LUS, and his parasites.

Eutychian. By Bacchus! it is of no consequence;
Nothing can wean the Emperor from me ;
But I don't choose to have such guests at court, —
And yet to-day the Emperor will see him,
And sent me here to receive when he should come.

Rupilius. Eutychian is a demigod, and . . .

Eutychian. Yes,

Demigod ; the Emperor is a god
Entire, — I am the first after tlie Emperor!

Rupilius. Tlien, Demigod Eutychian, suppose
We rob the Greek of the light of day, so that
" Dulces moriens reminiscitur argos ! "

Eutychian. Evoe ! Only spare me Maro's verses!
The Augustan poets had no sense of art !
{He seems lost in thought. )

Rupilius. Nay, no conception of true art at all.

Cubullus. And no idea of true poetry.

Rupilius. No knowledge of the drama.

Cubullus. Or aught else.

Eutychian {recovering from his reverie). I've thought
it out, — friend, we must build his way
To the shades I

Meanwhile, list to this stirring song
Composed by the godlike Nero for his dwarfs.

28



322



IRIDION.



Rupiliits. He was the pride of music, lord of rhythm.
Cubullus. True brother of the nine sweet sisters.

FAttychiaji {recites the chorus written for the d7var/s).
We stand at his side while our glorious Lord on his tower

Wreathes with red roses his golden-strung lyre ;
Starless night glooms around him with heavy and ominous
clouds ;
While the home of the gods upon earth at his feet
Shudders and throbs in its mantle of smoke !

He kindled these brightening fires ! He would see for
himself

How old Troy trembled once in devouring flames !
He could not remain a mere mortal, and so made a crown

Of hot light, and created a Drama of fire !

His strong hand wakes the lyre, and entranced by his
marvelous tones.
The lithe flames leap from hill unto hill !
They care not for sighs nor for tears in their merciless joy.
While high o'er the city which crackles and glitters and
falls,
Another Rome burns in the air !
How frightful the glare with the pyramids tall of hot flame,
And the long rows of pillars ablaze !

We shrieked in our joy ! we clapped loudly our hands !
for the day
Of Destruction had come in the fire !
In the hot wavesof Phlegethon, templeand palace go down,
Crashing and crackling they vanish forever away
In the arms of the beautiful fire !

Danger and woe are around us, — but we are all safe !
Delivered from death by the powerful Lord of the Lyre !
The master of art, and the glorious sovereign of tones !

Philosopher [approaching Eutychiati). Eutychian, you
know everything, and are
A very god in Rome ; grant my request.
Have Anaxagoras, the Neo-Platonist,
Ap]X)inte(l \o rt-ad lectures twice a week
In the Caracallan Baths!



IRIDION.