No More Learning

_Cleor. _ I hear, my dearest lord, that we shall go.

_Cleom. _ Go!

_Cleon. _ What a mournful echo makes my father!
By Mars, he stifles _go_ upon his tongue,
And kills the joyful sound; he speaks so low,
That heaven must listen, if it hear his thanks.

_Cleom. _ Yes, I shall go; but how?

_Cleor. _ With Egypt's aid.

_Cleon. _ With his own soul and sword, a thousand strong;
And worth ten Egypts, and their ten thousand gods.

_Crat. _ There's something more in this, than what we guess;
Some secret anguish rolls within his breast,
That shakes him like an earthquake, which he presses,
And will not give it vent: I know him well.
He blushes, and would speak, and wants a voice;
And stares and gapes like a forbidden ghost,
Till he be spoke to first. --Tell me, my son!

_Cleom. _ Mother, I will. --And yet I cannot neither. [_Aside. _
Mother! that word has struck me dumb again:
For, how can I say mother, and propound
To leave her here behind, who gave me life?
Mother! and wife! and son! the names that nature
Most loves to speak, are banished from my mouth.

_Cleor. _ Tell us, my love, the king has changed his mind,
And has refused us leave; for we can bear it:
Egypt is Greece to me, while you are here.

_Cleom. _ Oh I would speak! But, oh! you speak so kindly,
That you forbid my speech: You call me love.

_Cleor. _ Was that too kind a word?

_Cleom. _ It was to me: I am a mere barbarian,
A brute, a stock, for I have no relations,
Or shortly shall have none.

_Cleor. _ Then we must die!

_Cleon. _ We must; and welcome death.

_Crat. _ To save his life.

_Cleom. _ The gods forbid that you should die for me!
No, you may live; but I must die thrice over,
For I must leave you here, or must not go:
These are the hard conditions offered me.

_Crat. _ Then Egypt would have pledges: Is this all?

_Cleom. _ Yes, and a mighty all: 'Tis all I have.
But I propose it not; remember that.

_Crat. _ I do; and therefore I propose it first,
To save this virtuous shame, this good confusion,
That would not let you speak.

_Cleom. _ Oh! I could almost think you love me not,
You granted me so quick, so willingly,
What I,--bear witness, heaven,--was slow to ask,
And would be loth to have.

_Cleor. _ I cannot leave you.

_Cleom. _ I was but wishing thou wouldst draw me back,
And now, I cannot go.

_Crat. _ Are you turned woman?
No more of this fond stuff.

_Cleon. _ Shall I be left to gather rust in Egypt?
A glue of sloth to stick to my young pinions,
And mar their flight; habitual cowardice?
No; I must learn my stubborn trade of war
From you alone, and envy you betimes.

_Cleom. _ But the conditions! Oh these hard conditions!
That such a spirit must be left behind,
Untaught, unfashioned by a father's hands!
A spirit fit to start into an empire,
And look the world to law.

_Crat. _ No more debating, for I see the pinch.
He must be left, and so must she and I,
For we are but your softnesses, my son;
The incumbrances and luggage of the war.
Fight for us, and redeem us, if you please;
For there we are your clogs of virtue; here,
The spurs of your return.

_Cleom. _ I thank you, mother;
Once more you have erected me to man,
And set me upright, with my face to heaven.
The woman and the boy be yours awhile:
The war be mine alone!

_Crat. _ There spoke the Spartan king: Think not on us.

_Cleom. _ I wonnot.

_Cleor. _ Not in prayers!

_Cleon. _ In prayers! That's poor,
As if the gods were thoughtless of their work.
Think on us, when you fight; and when you make
A lusty stroke, cry out,--That's for my boy.

_Crat. _ Dispose this mouldering carcase as you please,
Ere lingering age or sickness wear it out,
Unprofitable then for Sparta's good.
Be chearful, fight it well, and all the rest
Leave to the gods and fortune.

_Cleom. _ If they fail me,
Theirs be the fault, for fate is theirs alone:
My virtue, fame, and honour are my own. [_Exeunt. _




ACT IV.


SCENE I. --_An Antechamber of_ CASSANDRA'S _Lodging_.

_Enter_ PTOLEMY, SOSIBIUS, CŒNUS, _and_ CASSANDRA.

_Sosib. _ So, so,--it works; now, mistress, sit you fast. [_Aside. _

_Ptol. _ Humph, whores and catamites!
Were those his words?

_Cœn. _ Upon my life they were.

_Ptol. _ Whom should he mean by those unmannered terms?
Cassandra, can you guess?

_Cas. _ 'Twas kindly asked.

_Ptol. _ A foul-mouthed villain.

_Sosib. _ So I should have thought,
But that this lady knows him good and grateful.

_Cœn. _ Madam, I stand suspected without cause;
And, but I fear revenge from this great man,
I could say more.

_Cas. _ I thought he was concerned.

_Sosib. _ Who, I?

_Cas. _ Speak boldly, Grecian, I protect thee.

_Cœn. _ Cleanthes then was present, and he added----

_Enter_ CLEANTHES.

But he appears in time to hear his charge.

_Sosib. _ My dear, dear son! [_Aside. _
I fear thy lavish tongue has ruined thee;
What can I do to save thee?

_Cas. _ Well, proceed.

_Cœn. _ Can you deny, my lord, that you were present,
When Cleomenes taxed the court, and king,
With brutal vices?

_Clean. _ I remember somewhat
Of certain horses which he could not buy,
And saw thee go away dissatisfied;
Which to prevent, I meant to purchase them:
The rest I heard not, nor believe he spoke.

_Cas. _ Cleanthes added farther; that thou saidst,--

_Ptol. _ And we would know, ere tortures force it from thee.

_Sosib. _ Now comes the fatal stroke. [_Aside. _

_Cœn. _ He added farther,----

_Clean. _ No, thou addest it all;
And I demand the combat.

_Ptol. _ Let him speak.

_Sosib. _ Think first, Cleanthes! Think before you hazard
Your life and honour in this bold appeal:
Somewhat you might have said, nay more, you ought,
Since I commanded you to be a spy
On Cleomenes' acts and close designs.

_Clean. _ The good old liar would preserve my life,
And I must steer his course. [_Aside. _
I think----I farther added,---- [_To the King. _

_Ptol. _ 'Tis forgiven;
So wholly pardoned, that I will not hear it;
Good spies are useful, and must be encouraged.
But what must next be done with Cleomenes?

_Sosib. _ Dispatch him, as the source of all your fears.
Observe the mounting billows of the main,
Blown by the winds into a raging storm;
Brush off those winds, and the high waves return
Into their quiet first created calm:--
Such is the rage of busy blustering crowds,
Fomented by the ambition of the great:
Cut off the causes, and the effect will cease;
And all the moving madness fall to peace.

_Ptol. _ Let him be seized, in order to his death;
I am in haste, you know it, for my progress.
A thousand pleasures wait me at Canopus,
And this poor trifling business of one life
Encumbers all. --Cassandra, are you ready?
We will be seen like Isis and Osiris,
Drawn in one chariot, for admiring eyes
To worship as we pass.

_Cas. _ A word in private;--Cœnus, attend without. [_Exit. _

[CASSANDRA _leads the King to a corner of the Stage_; _Sosibius_
_takes his Son to the other_.

_Sosib. _ [_To Clean. _] Now I am twice your father, by preserving
The life I gave you, which your folly hazarded.
Break off all friendship with that Spartan king,
Or never see me more: His fate's resolved,
Nor can you stem the tide; avoid his ruins;
Reply not, but obey.

_Clean. _ I know my duty. [_Bowing. _

_Sosib. _ Thou overjoyest me: Follow, we'll talk farther.
[_Exeunt_ SOSIB. _and_ CLEAN.

_Cas. _ What think you of Sosibius and his son?

_Ptol. _ As of two creatures zealous for my service.

_Cas. _ Oh heavens! that I should love this king so well!
But that I doat--What can I see in him,
But dull good nature and simplicity?
Well, well! my little dear, I find the gods
Have given me here no business of my own,
But made me just your drudge, to love and save you.

_Ptol. _ 'Protest I thought them honest; are they not?

_Cas. _ Ye gods! why did you make this man your image?
And made him but an image? --You'll forgive me;
I love you so, that I am forced to rail.
You saw no close conveyance of the game
Betwixt the crafty sire and cunning son;
How slily one invented an excuse,
And t'other took it up as dexterously!

_Ptol.
_ Why, sure Cleanthes was his father's spy?

_Cas. _ Yes, over you; but not on Cleomenes.
I fear you are betrayed, and the gods blind you,
To make your ruin sure.

_Ptol. _ As how, Cassandra?

_Cas. _ When you are absent----

_Ptol. _ Well!

_Cas. _ 'Tis in their power----

_Ptol. _ To murder Cleomenes----

_Cas. _ If they please;
Or else to set him free, and join with Magas.

_Ptol. _ I will not to Canopus.

_Cas. _ Yes, you must.

_Ptol. _ But how shall I be safe, and take this journey?

_Cas. _ Leave that to me.

_Ptol. _ But you must go along.

_Cas. _ No; I must stay here, in order to your safety,
To watch the growth of danger, and prevent it.
This cruel absence I must undergo,
Or else I love you not.

_Ptol. _ Since I must go,
I'll cheat them of a day, and come before
My time, for love of thee.

_Cas. _ To sum up all,--
For we are both in haste,--
Intrust your royal signet in my hands.

_Ptol. _ Joined with Sosibius.

_Cas. _ Would you trust a statesman
Before your own dear heart? You love him better,
You naughty man, in faith you do; and, now I think on't,
I will not have your signet: By this kiss,
And this, and this, I will not.

_Ptol. _ By all three, thou shalt.
[_Gives her the Signet from his Finger. _

But kill this Cleomenes quickly, he's dangerous.

_Cas. _ He's in safe hands with me.

_Ptol. _ One more embrace.

_Cas. _ There, take it, and now go.
Thus, for your good, I thrust you from my arms.

_Ptol. _ Farewell, my love. [_Exit_ PTOLEMY.

_Cas. _ Farewell----I hope for ever. --
Now, Cleomenes, I will sound thy soul,
For life and death depend upon thy choice;
But for that easy wretch, him I comtemn.
Hard state of lovers, subject to our laws!
Fools we must have, or else we cannot sway;
For none but fools will womankind obey.
If they prove stubborn, and resist our will,
We exercise our power, and use them ill.
The passive slave, that whines, adores, and dies,
Sometimes we pity, but we still despise:
But when we doat, the self-same fate we prove,
Fools at the best, but double fools in love.
We rage at first with ill-dissembled scorn;
Then, falling from our height, more basely mourn;
And man, the insulting tyrant, takes his turn,
Leaves us to weep for our neglected charms,
And hugs another mistress in his arms;
And, that which humbles our proud sex the most,
Of all our slighted favours makes his boast.
[_Exit_ CASSANDRA.

_Enter_ CLEOMENES.

_Cleom. _ Her words, her every look, confess she loves me;
And therefore she detains these hostages,
As pawns of my return to her and Egypt.
Thus far 'tis plain and obvious:--But the picture;
That Helen: There's the riddle of her love.
For, what I see, or only think I see,
Is like a glimpse of moonshine, streaked with red,--
A shuffled, sullen, and uncertain light,
That dances through the clouds, and shuts again:
Then 'ware a rising tempest on the main.

_Enter_ CASSANDRA.

_Cas. _ I would, but cannot speak.
The shame that should to womankind belong,
Flown from my bosom, hovers on my tongue. [_Aside. _

_Cleom. _ 'Tis rarely seen, that gods from heaven descend,
But for some kind, some charitable end.
And yet your troubled looks ill news import,
Stops, or delays; but that's no news at court:
There's somewhat which your pity would disguise.

_Cas. _ Would you could read that somewhat in my eyes!
But, as you are a Spartan and a king,
Undaunted hear whatever news I bring.
The favourite hates you; Cœnus has betrayed
The bitter truths, that our loose court upbraid.
Your friend was set upon you for a spy,
And on his witness you are doomed to die.

_Cleom. _ I have been plunged already twice in woes,
And the third time above the waves I rose.
Still I have strength to steer me into port,
And shun the secret quick-sands of the court.
But when my friend, who should expecting stand
On the bare beach, to lend his helping hand;
When he defends the unhospitable shore,
And drives me thence, I sink for evermore.
But 'tis impossible, his faith is tried;
The man, who had defamed him thus, had lied.

_Cas. _ Well! I forgive your blunt Laconic way;
It shall be seen, it shall this very day,
Who would preserve your life, and who betray.
The king incensed, the favourite your foe,
Yet on the same conditions you may go;
Your wife, your son, your mother left behind.
What think you now?

_Cleom. _ 'Tis to be wonderous kind.

_Cas. _ Suppose I add a farther bounty yet.

_Cleom. _ It could but make your favours over weight.

_Cas. _ What if I went myself to waft you o'er,
And left you when I saw you safe ashore?
For I should leave you, if you thought it fit,
Not to do more, than honour would permit.
Can I do less, to show you I am kind,
To comfort you for those you left behind?

_Cleom. _ The world would think you kinder than you ought.

_Cas. _ Why should I care what base Egyptians thought?

_Cleom. _ Immoderate gifts oppress me, not relieve;
Nor dare I take what ruins you to give.

_Cas. _ Leave me to judge of that; I could prescribe
An easy way of giving back my bribe.
Why would you force me farther than my part?
Look on my eyes, and you may read my heart.
[_Looks on her as by stealth. _
Oh, there you met me with a guilty glance!
Now 'tis too late to plead your ignorance.

_Cleom. _ I am so much below, and you above,
What can I say?

_Cas. _ But one kind word,--I love.

_Cleom. _ As far as gratitude that love can pay.

_Cas. _ Oh, stop not there; for that's but half the way!
Would you to one poor narrow word confine
Your passion, when I put no bounds to mine?

_Cleom. _ Cleora!

_Cas. _ Now you speak too soon; forbear!
Nothing can please me, that begins with her.

_Cleom. _ I must begin, where nature, void of art,
Directs my tongue,--with her, who rules my heart.

_Cas. _ Let us together sail before the wind,
And leave that dull domestic drudge behind.

_Cleom. _ What! to expose her helpless innocence
To the wild fury of an injured prince?

_Cas. _ A vain surmise; their talents would agree. }
The gods have made your noble mind for me, }
And her insipid soul for Ptolemy: }
A heavy lump of earth, without desire;
A heap of ashes, that o'erlays your fire.

_Cleom. _ Virtue you must allow her, though a foe.

_Cas. _ No more than what I would to ice and snow.
Yet those have seeds of heat; her shivering blood
Makes her, at best, but impotently good.
But neither I can save you, if you stay,
Nor save myself unless I go away;
For, if I stay behind, and set you free,
The fury of the king would fall on me.

_Cleom. _ Then, to prevent your fate, I must not go;
Death is my choice, since heaven will have it so.

_Cas. _ Heaven would preserve your life, and so would I;
But you are obstinately bent to die.

_Cleom. _ Some men are made of such a leaky mould,
That their filled vessels can no fortune hold:
Poured in, it sinks away, and leaves them dry;
Of that unsusceptible make am I.
Yet think not, fair one, I your charms despise;
My heart's insensible, but not my eyes:
Respect and gratitude are all my store,
And those I give; my love was given before.

_Cas. _ Thus break false merchants, with an honest show;
Rich to themselves, but bankrupts where they owe.

_Cleom. _ If at this awful distance I remain,
Better be too devout, than too profane.

_Cas. _ Flattery! such alms the priesthood give the poor;
They bless, and send them empty from the door.
Know you, that Death stands ready at the gate,
That I forbid him, and suspend your fate?
The king's short absence leaves me absolute;
When he returns, the inevitable ill
Is past my power, and may be past my will.
Unhappy man! prevent thy destiny;
Speak one kind word, to save thy life and me.

_Cleom. _ Be answered, and expect no more reply.

_Cas. _ Disdain has swelled him up, and choked his breath;
Sullen, and dumb, and obstinate to death.
No signs of pity in his face appear;
Look, if the ungrateful creature shed one tear!
Crammed with his pride, he leaves no room within
For sighs to issue out, or love to enter in. --
[_He turns away. _
What! dost thou turn thy face in my despite?
Am I a toad? a monster to thy sight?
Farewell, fond pity, then: As thou from me,
So thy good fortune turns her face from thee.
Left, scorned, and loathed, and all without relief,
Revenge succeeds to love, and rage to grief.
Tempests and whirlwinds through my bosom move, }
Heave up, and madly mount my soul above }
The reach of pity, or the bounds of love. -- }
Approach, and seize the traitor.

_Enter Guards. _

_Cleom. _ Now I can speak: thy kindness kept me dumb,
For that I could not answer. The false Syren,
No longer hiding her uncomely parts,
Struts on the waves, and shews the brute below.

_Cas. _ Stop that foul mouth! Behold this royal signet,
The warrant of his death. [_Guards go to seize him. _

_Cleom. _ Stand back, ye slaves, [_He draws his Sword. _
And put me not to stain a Spartan sword
With base Egyptian blood.
[_He advances upon them; they retire, with signs of fear. _

_Cas. _ Fall on! --Behold a noble beast at bay,
And the vile huntsmen shrink! --More aid: Who waits? --

_Enter_ CLEANTHES.

Now, sir, what brings you here?

_Clean. _ My zeal to serve you.

_Cas. _ That shall be tried; disarm him.

_Clean. _ Cleomenes,
Deliver me your sword.

_Cleom. _ How's this, Cleanthes?

_Clean. _ It must be so.

_Cleom.