No More Learning

Farther and farther will our sway extend,
And from the rising to the setting sun,
The world will know no peace, until its name is Rome !

Iridion. And can you dream to cover this abyss
With a fresh growth of ivy, vines, and laurel?
Deem you the bones of your dead offerings,
The plundered shrines, polluted sanctuaries,
Swords torn from bleeding hands that trusted you,
The murdered women, children's rotting flesh.
The myriad broken hearts strewn o'er your path,
Will be no longer seen 'neath that lush growth
Which loves to shelter ruin, hide decay?
Death lurks in every pitfall of such path !
And in a generation without souls,
How can you light anew the extinct fires
Of honor, peace, security, and art, —
Cull palms and roses, where you have sown Hate?
Send for your wreaths of laurel, you and Caesar;
Lululge your pleasant dreams, like frail old men
Who hope the return of youth, when Death knocks at
their door !

Domitian. Chief of incendiaries, bands of robbers.
Your breath is poison for a man of virtue !
Branded upon your brow, abandoned by the gods,
All crimes are burning with infernal glare :
My old frame shudders as I look upon you !

Iridio7i {turning totvards the statue of Amphilochus).
Father ! the Roman for the first time hears
A freeman speak, and falls into a rage !
Consul, a few words more ! What have you made
Of all this world which the Lifernal gods



424



IRIDION.



Have given to you? Have you made any happy?

I've seen triumphal arches spring upon it,

The ivory chairs of the Ediles rise thereon ;

You have made roads o'er which to send your troops,

Raised marbles upon which you've graven your name

With the sweat and blood of dying, wretched men,

Yourselves thus dedicating to the vengeful Furies !

And when the tottering earth fell in your arms.

Like a deluded woman led astray,

The godlike dreams of Plato floated o'er it,

While even from Gades to the Ultima Thule,

Glittered the snowy sails of prosperous Carthage !

What have you made this world ? Answer me, Consul !

Speak ! What remains of all the happy past?

Do you not hear the sighs and sobs break forth

From the fainting hearts of the wretched Nazarenes

Whom you detain for torture in the catacombs?

Look at the wandering shadows of the Stoics, ^

Who try to console themselves for the loss of all

Making life precious, by the cold abstractions

Writ by Aurelius ! Can you call this, life?

Where has the Olive Branch, since Greece was ruined.

Flourished upon the earth you've made so wretched?

Show me the people whom your ancestors

Have soothed for the loss of liberty with hymns

Of hope and love, lessons of godlike wisdom?

Oh yes ! . . , I know ! . . . Augustus closed the gates

Of Janus in the evening of his life,

And venal lutes sang flatteries before him !

Consider, he but gave the name of peace

To silent deserts of the ruined, dead ! —

Only on wasted cities ground to dust,

On graves of bloody generations slaughtered.

You grave the words: Peace to the sons of men!

Domiiian. E'en as a father rules liis family,
Patricians rule plebeians ; masters, slaves.
So have we Quirites held provinces,
Inherited, subjected, or our own;
So do we rule the world. By the same law,
We govern earth we've conquered by the sword,
And o'er its head we hang the law of the sword !



I RID I ON. 425

Iridion. If you had ne'er made use of perfidy,
Deceived the credulous by lying words,
Wliat would have been your fate, O subde Roman?
Look on the legions of your proud Republic
Flving before the elephants of Pyrrhus,
Quailing beneath the pronged blades of the Samnites,
Falling like grass before the reaper's scythe
On Thrasimene's Lake, shrieking aloud
For mercy to the Spaniards, when inclosed
Li narrow defile where no water flowed.
\x\ the dense forests of Hercynia,
Paling before the prowess of the Germans,
They knelt like helpless victims to be slaughtered !
Not with the thunders of bold Alexander,^
Not with the valor of your naked blades,
But through your cups of poison, perjuries,
Conspiracies, fomented treasons, guiles,
Your treacherous friendships, dark diplomacies,
You've crawled and writhed into the power you hold !
No. Not among the mountains grew your eagles.
But in the fetid air of treacherous swamps !

Domitiau. Vainly you rage ! The granite rock on
which
You gnash your teeth but tears them from their sockets !

Thus you reject the mercy of your master?

Iridion. Wlio is my master? . . . I've known none on
earth !

Behind yon pvre, like monstrous birds of prey,

The Genii of Death are gathering fast !

In that still kingdom I am soon to enter.

They'll tell me, oi what Ccesar I am subject !

Here I've known only foes ; and a few slaves

Who love and serve me faithfully, my brothers.

I never have known peace, nor bliss, nor rest.

Only one godlike hour, dear to my soul.

Short, brilliant as the flash of clashing swords

That shatter suddenly in sparkling atoms, —

But sacred to ray heart for evermore !

None of you. Brothers, shared that hour with me;

// was myself, — and I was // entire ;

There was no separate identity !



426 I RID I ON.

The torch of vengeance blazed in my hot hands ;
The accursed city lay beneath my feet,
More and more closely veiled in night's dim shroud ;
The winds arose : . . . Fire ! Fire ! . . .
(Zr<? turns pale and leans for support on the statue of Am-
pliilochus. )

Ah ! Nemesis !
Domitian. What is the matter, Greek? How pale you

grow !
Iridion {recovering himself^. More Roman blood is

wanting to my cheeks !
Domitian. The gods have warned you by some inward
sign !
For the last time, in the name of him who sent me,
I warn you, sentence will be passed against you.
For the last time, I offer Caesar's grace.
Pardon still lies within your grasp, for Rome
Is ever ready to forgive the humble!

Iridion. Is such the conclusion you draw from my
words ?
Is this the Jurist's lore? . . . Wait, Consul, wait !
Euphorion, hand the consecrated cup !

(yEuphorion hands a bowl of wine. )
I pour the Lesbian foam upon thy feet,

{Etnpties the wine at the feet of the statue. )
Amphilochus ! Receive my bloom of life
In sacrifice ! Father, I come to thee ! . . .

Euphorion, fill again ! . . . Drink, Brothers, drink !

Drink, as the faitiiful men of Leonidas

Pledged one another ere their twilight fell !

( The cup is filled and refilled as it passes round from man
to man. )

Drink, and be free from sad or evil thoughts !

(^After the cup has circled round the men, it is ai^ain filled ;
Iridion holds it in his hand as he approaches the altar
ruhiih stands bctioeen the statue of Amphilochus and t/ie
body of Elsinoe, upon which altar fire blazes. He draws
from his finger the ring of Empire. )



IRIDION.



427



The Guardian Genius of the cruel Empire;

The god who guides its future Destiny,

Blessed by the augurs, famed and liymned by prophets,

Revered by vestals in their sacred chants,

{He holds the ring above the flavies. )
Given by the Senate but to Caesar's hand,
The Fate of Rome, — I dedicate to thee
In sacrifice, O Father ! Mother, thee !
And thee, beloved Hellas !

Domitian. Stop ! Stop the impious sacrilege ! Arrest
The desecration of the holy symbol !
Is there a Roman here who hears my voice?
Life, honor, gold, are his who saves the ring !
I vow by Stator, by Quirinus, swear !
Hold, infamous boaster! The mystic name of Rome,
Her Fate, her Honor, live within the seal !

Iriition. Life! Honor! Gold! My Brothers, have
you heard ?
The Name and Fate of Rome live in this ring !
{He throws the ring into the flarnes. Domitian covers his
head with his toga. )

CHORUS.

The Roman throws the toga o'er his head ;
Sorrow and anger swell his troubled breast;
He dares not lift his head to meet our eyes !
Eiige ! Euge !

Iridion. Before my lips are closed in death forever,
I utter my last will. {To his soldiers. ) Hearken to me,
And with me join to curse the accursed city !

CHORUS.

Look ! is it the reflection from the blaze,
Or does Apollo crown liim with his light,
That thus his face illumes with sudden glory?

Iridion. Woe to the victors ! Woe ! As they would
have *

Degraded us, so may they be abased !
All who are born in Rome, all dead in Rome,
Women and children, men, — may all be slaves !



428 IRIDIOM.

CHORUS OF MEN.

Women and children, men, — may all be slaves !

Iridion. Eternal "Fuiumf Rise from thy high
throne,
Where thou art seated o'er all other gods;
Descend to earth, rest on these seven hills,
Become the Fury of their agonies!
May Rome, which ruins all, die at Thy Feet,

All-Creator, God of all their gods!

CHORUS OF MEN.

Destroy their race! Their language die with them!

Iridion. Their infamy shall live till Time shall be no
more !
Let the tradition of their tyranny
Be their eternal epitaph ! May all
Who read it in the future curse them, — curse them
From age to age, while lasts the universe !

CHORUS OF MEN.

Curse them from age to age, while lasts the universe !

Iridion. The hour of prayer and sacrifice is past;
The flame is dying out upon the altar;
The god of Rome is dead! Consul, look up!

Doniitian. You break all codes, outrage the holiest
symbols !
According to the customs of our Fathers,

1 shut you from the protection of all law;
I interdict the use of fire and water!

The slave who brings your head shall have his freedom;

The freeman, have his statue near the rostrum,

A seat next to the Consul at the games!

Villain, I go to await you at the gate

Of the Mamertine prison! Madman, death-doomed,

I'll see you plunge from the Tarpeian rock!

Iridion. None here will raise a hand against me ! Go!
Rage is unseemly with a head of snow.

i^Exii Domitian. )



IRIDION. 429

Thy funeral pyre is ready, sunny-haired !
Take up the bier and bear it gently, slaves!
Salve Eternum, Elsinoe pure!

( They carry the bier slozaly out, Iridion walking beside it,
followed by Pilades. Exeunt soldiers, attendants, etc. )

SCENE III. Moonlight. A street in Rome.
On one side
stands the temple of Venus, opposite to it is the Flavian am-
phitheatre. Lucius Tubero and the prcetorians are seen
upon the steps of the temple.

Tubero. Aristomachus should be here ere this.
Night had scarce f. illen when we parted ; now
The moon stands high above the amphitheatre.
The giant shadows, silence of these arches,
Weigh upon me ! I know not why it is,
But the fresh breath of night, instead of calming,
Burns on my cheek. How anxious is this waiting!
Yet I have looked on far more desperate things
Without a shudder. Soul, thou slave of Lucius,
Why dost thou now revolt against thy master?
'Tis said that when the end of life draws near,
The spirit grows afraid and warns the body.
Brutus had signs before the last lost fight,
And Otho too at Bedriacum . . . Diespiter !
This is no time for Tubero to die!
Young Caesar counts on my experience,
And with Domitian I can hold the reins.
Sliould the great jurist fall beneath the sword
Of the mad Greek or axes of the Germans, —
Then . . . then . . . Who answers me? Marspiter!

speak ! . . .
'Tis nobody! Only a lion roused from sleep
And roaring in the vaults below the circus.
No, — there are other sounds ! Voices and tumult!
Marspiter! who comes here?

i^Armedmeti rush in in disorder, followed by h'RiSTOMXCnus. )

Aristomachus. Help! help!

Tubero. Shame ! shame !

37



430



IRIDION.



Caesar upon the Forum waits for you

To bring the Greek in chains; you fly before him!

Aristomachus. Were he the Father of both gods and
men,
He lies who says I fear! I have just driven
This javelin through the breasts of two centurions
Because they wavered, turned their faces from
The flaming eyes of this same fiery Greek.

Tubero. Whence gets He this new power? Does he
sow dragons' teeth
Which grow to men as soon as they are planted?

Aristomachus. He must be near the end, but he still
fights
With supernatural force and bravery.
As we marched o'er the slope of the Viminalis,
He rushed upon us like a lava torrent.
Throwing his flaming torches, fiery arrows.
And burning naphtha. Face to face we met;
Three times a desperate encounter followed;
As if from Vulcan's anvil flew the sparks
Between his shield and my tried sword: in vain,
For each time were we driven by the crowd apart.

Tubero. I swear to hang within thy Temple, Mars,
His armor, when Fve torn it from the Greek!

Aristomachus. Take off your breastplate, Tubero !
Two scales
Ruptured above the heart just as you spoke 1

Tubero. The gods avert the omen !

{Exeunt Tubero afid Aristomachus. ')

Masinissa (a/>pearingupon the strfs of the tetnple of Venus').
Ye birds of niglit, fed on the arena's blood,
Spread your black wings, and circle round my head I
Moon, ghastly ruin of a dead volcano,
Wliere Vulcan raged, whom men in idle dreams
Have changed to star of jjurity and peace,
Send me thy j)ale, thy faded rays!
Earth, give me that which still belongs to me!
Air, pay me what is due! I fain would feed
To-day on poison, misery, and blood,
As I once fed upon eternal light !



I RID ION. 431

Another day, another night, and I,

With my brave son, depart to other scenes !

A CHORUS OF FEMALE SPIRITS FROM THE DEPTHS OF THE
TEMPLE.

The Beautiful, Voluptuous, salute their Lord !

Floating above the helmets of the warriors,

Our cheeks we freshen in hot human blood :

The blood shed by thy son is now our favorite mirror !

The Beautiful, Voluptuous, warn their Lord,
That at the rising of Orion's stars,
The mystic spirit came, rolling in streams
Through the blue depths of ether's haunted realm !
All melancholy clouds, all silent charms
It weaves, re-weaves around Iridion's soul !
Masinissa. Does my son heed the whispers of the
spirit ?

CHORUS OF FEMALE SPIRITS.

Whene'er this mystic thought, which has no voice,

Touches his heart, he chill and pallid grows.

His sword still seeks the weak points in the armor,

But cannot break into the House of Life.

Like a fallen angel he still strives and fights

'Midst heaps of ruins. Hasten to him, Lord!

Masinissa. Feeble and misty soul of a chaste virgin,

Pure sighs breathed from the other side of graves,

You shall not tear Iridion from my grasp !

I have not trained his hands to strike your golden harps,

Nor tuned his vengeful lips to chant your hymns of praise !

{He disappears. ')

SCENE IV. The Forum lighted by torches. Alexander
is seated in a curtile chair ; behind him stand the guard
with golden eagles. Domitian is at his side. Aristo-
MACHUS enters, followed by soldiers bearing in SciPio,
dangerously wounded.

Aristomachus. O godlike Emperor ! Brave Tubero
Ere this has made a captive of the Greek !



432



IRIDION.



I was with him when he began the fight
With the Cherusci, who, led by this man,

{He points to Scipio. ')
Stood on the farther slope of the Viminal.
I pressed him so severely that they cried :
" Long live Severus, Caesar ! " They swore to me
By all the gods of the north, that they had lost
Their senses after Heliogabalus perished.
This man closed up the months of two or three
With vigorous thrusts ; — the rest massed on our side.

Alexander. Aristomachus, our best thanks are due !

Aristomachus. I must return to Tubero.

{Exit Afistomachus. ^

Domitian {to Scipio). Your name ?

Scipio. A dying man !

Domitian. Reveal the hidden truth,

And reconcile yourself ere your last sigh
With the just gods.

Scipio. Just gods / JV/iere may JJind them ?

Domitian. Answer before your Emperor ! Since
when
Have you conspired ?

Scipio. I cannot count. —

Since the beginning of eternity !

Domitiaji. Nay, jest not, slave ! Have you accom-
plices
In other portions of this mighty realm?

Scipio. Ay ! everywhere !

Domitian. Who are the chief among them?

Scipio. Caesar and you ! While you exist, they live !

{He dies. )

Alexander {descending from the throne).
Nor threat nor pardon conquers such firm souls !

Domitian. No, fire and steel alone ! . . . Learn how
to walk
On the brink of the precipice without a fall !
Heed not the voice of women ! Never trust
The generosity of other men !
Rome has in thee, herself incorporated;
Then be as she is, strong and pitiless !



IRIDION. 433

SCENE V, An open space by the fountain of Neptune.
Clashing of swords and alarums heard in the distance.
Enter Iridion pursuing Tubero.

Tubcro. Through the whole night your eyes, like
brands of fire
Kindling from Erebus, have followed me !
Which of your gods tempered and forged your armor?
Marspiter ! Greek, my courage fails me not
Under your strokes, — but my strength totters . . . reels . . .
Iridion. For the last time you've parried my sharp
strokes ;
I keep the promise pledged you, Tubero !

Tubero. O Father Neptune, help ! {He falls. ) My

hour has come !
Iridion. Go, tell my sister I am coming soon !

{Kills him. )
Vengeance ! Thou givest me but single drops,
When I have prayed thee for a sea of blood !
I burn in the full force of vigorous life !
The souls of murdered, dying brothers live
And fight within my breast. I know no fear !
I grow into a Titan . . . Must I die ? . . .
I will not die ! . . .

{He stoops and picks tip the sword of Tubero, then staggers
and turns pale. )

Invisible spirit, why thus follow me ?

Christ? Christ? . . . What is that mystic name to me ?

Away 1 Away ! Torture me not, Metella !

Float with the silver clouds around the moon !

Fly ! darkness soon will shroud the crimsoned earth !

{Enter Alboin. )
Is'f friend or foe of Iridion, the Greek!

Alboin. Once an associate.

Iridion. Say, is it fear,

Or the reflection of the moon's white rays.