Rodogune
ACT Three
The Palace in Antioch. Under the hills.
Scene 1
The Audience-Chamber in the Palace.
Nicanor, Phayllus and others seated; Eunice, Philoctetes, Thoas
apart near the dais.
THOAS
Is it patent? Is he the elder? do we know?
EUNICE
Should he not rule?
THOAS
If Fate were wise, he should.
EUNICE
Will Timocles sack great Persepolis?
Sooner I think Phraates will couch here,
The mighty, steadfast, patient, subtle man,
And from the loiterer take, the sensualist
Antioch of the Seleucidae.
THOAS
Perhaps.
But shall I rise against the country’s laws
That harbours me? The sword I draw, is hers.
EUNICE
Are law and justice always one? Reflect.
THOAS
If justice is offended, I will strike.
He withdraws to another part of the hall.
EUNICE
The man is wise, but when ambition’s heaped
In a great bosom, Fate takes quickly fire.
It only needs the spark.
PHILOCTETES
Is it only that
That’s needed? there shall be the spark.
He withdraws.
EUNICE
Fate or else Chance
Work out the rest. I have given your powers a lead.
Nicanor, who has drawn near, stops before her.
NICANOR
Your council’s finished then?
EUNICE
What council, father?
NICANOR
I have seen, though I have not spoken. Meddle not
In things too great for you. This realm and nation
Are not a skein for weaving fine intrigues
In your shut chambers.
EUNICE
We have other sports.
What do you mean?
NICANOR
See less Antiochus.
Carry not there your daring spirit and free rein
To passion and ambition nor your bright scorn
Of every law that checks your headstrong will.
Or must I find a curb that shall restrain you?
He withdraws.
EUNICE
My prudent father! These men think that wisdom
Is tied up to beards. We too have heads
And finer brains within them, as I think!
She goes up on the dais. Leosthenes, Callicrates
and others enter together.
THOAS
Leosthenes from Parthia! Speeds the war?
LEOSTHENES
It waits a captain.
THOAS
It shall have today
A king of captains.
LEOSTHENES
I have seen the boy.
But there’s a mystery? Shall he be the king?
THOAS
If Fate agrees with Nature.
LEOSTHENES
Neither can err
So utterly, I think; for, if they could,
Man’s will would have a claim to unseat Fate,
Which cannot be.
Cleopatra enters with Antiochus and
Timocles; Cleone, Rodogune in attendance,
the latter richly robed.
PHILOCTETES
See where she places him!
THOAS
’Tis on her right!
PHAYLLUS
It is a woman’s ruse.
Or must I at disadvantage play the game
With this strong piece against?
CLEOPATRA
The strong Antiochus has gone too early
Down the dim gorges to that silent world
Where we must one day follow him. A younger hand
Takes up his sceptre and controls his sword.
These are the Syrian twins, Nicanor’s sons,
These are Antiochus and Timocles.
Why so long buried, why their right oppressed,
Why their precedence tyrannously concealed,
Forget. Forget old griefs, old hatreds; let them rest
Inurned, nor from their night recover them.
NICANOR
We need not raise the curtains that conceal
Things long inurned, but lest by this one doubt
The dead past lay a dark and heavy hand
Upon our fairer future, let us swear
The Queen shall be obeyed as if she spoke
For Heaven. Betwixt the all-seeing gods and her
Confine all cause of quarrel.
PHAYLLUS
Let the princes swear;
For how can subjects jar if they agree?
CLEOPATRA
O not with oaths compel the Syrian blood!
My sons, do you consent?
TIMOCLES
Your sovereign will must rule,
Mother, your children and our fraternal kindness
Will drown the loser’s natural chagrin
In joy at the other’s joy.
CLEOPATRA
Antiochus, my son!
ANTIOCHUS
Your question, Madam, was for Timocles;
From me it needs no answer.
PHAYLLUS
You accept
Your mother’s choice?
ANTIOCHUS
God’s choice. My mother speaks
A thing concealed, not one unsettled.
PHAYLLUS
Prince,
Syria demands a plainer answer here.
ANTIOCHUS
Who art thou? Art thou of Seleucus’ blood
Who questionest Syria’s kings?
CLEOPATRA
Enough. My sons
Will know how to respect their kingly birth.
Today begins another era. Rise,
Princess of Parthia; sit upon this throne,
Phraates’ daughter; thou art peace and love
And must today be crowned. Marvel not, Syrians;
For it is peace my envoys bear by now
Upon their saddles to Persepolis.
THOAS
This was a secret haste!
LEOSTHENES
Is it possible?
We had our heel upon the Parthian’s throat.
CLEOPATRA
Since Parthia swept through the Iranian East
Wrecking the mighty Macedonian’s toil,
War sways for ever like a darkened sea
In turmoil twixt our realms. How many heart-strings
Have broken, what tears of anguish have been wept
And eyes sought eastward unreturning eyes!
Joy has been buried in the blood-drenched sands.
Vain blood, vain weeping! Earth was made so wide
That many might have majesty and joy
Upon one mother’s equal breast. But we
Arresting others’ portions lose our own.
Nations that conquer widest, perish first,
Sapped by the hate of an uneasy world.
Then they are wisest victors who in time
Knowing the limits of their prosperous fate
Avoid the violence of Heaven. Syrians,
After loud battles I have founded glorious peace.
That fair work I began as Syria’s queen;
To seal it Syria’s king must not refuse.
ANTIOCHUS
I do refuse it. There shall be no peace.
CLEOPATRA
My son!
ANTIOCHUS
Peace! Are the Parthians at our gates?
Has not alarm besieged Ecbatana?
When was it ever seen or heard till now
That victors sued for peace? And this the reason,
A woman’s reason, because many have bled
And more have wept. It is the tears, the blood
Prodigally spent that build a nation’s greatness.
I here annul this peace, this woman’s peace,
I will proclaim with noise of victories
Its revocation.
PHAYLLUS
Now!
THOAS
Thou speakest, King!
TIMOCLES
You are not crowned as yet, Antiochus.
ANTIOCHUS
Syria forbids it, Syria’s destiny
Sends forth her lion voices from the hills
Where trumpets blare towards Persepolis,
Forbidding peace.
CLEOPATRA
We do not sue for peace,
My son, but give peace, taking provinces
And taking Rodogune.
TIMOCLES
Who twenty times
Outweighs all hero’s actions and exceeds
Earth’s widest conquests.
ANTIOCHUS
For her and provinces!
O worse disgrace! The sword had won us these.
We wrong the mighty dead who conquered. Provinces!
Whose soil are they that we must sue for them?
The princess! She’s my prisoner, is she not?
Must I entreat the baffled Parthian then
What I shall do with my own slave-girl here
In Antioch, in my palace? Queen of Syria,
This was ignobly done.
CLEOPATRA
I know you do not love me; in your cold heart
Love finds no home; but still I am your mother.
You will respect me thus when you are king?
ANTIOCHUS
I will respect you in your place, enshrined
In your apartments, governing your women,
Not Syria.
CLEOPATRA
Leave it. You will not think of peace?
ANTIOCHUS
Yes, when our armies reach Persepolis.
MELITUS
How desperate looks the Queen! What comes of this?
NICANOR (who has been watching Eunice)
End this debate; let Syria know her king.
Cleopatra rises and stands silent for a moment.
TIMOCLES
Mother!
CLEOPATRA
Behold your king!
MENTHO
She has done it, gods!
There is an astonished silence.
NICANOR
Speak once more, daughter of high Ptolemy,
Remembering God. Speak, have we understood?
Is Timocles our king?
CLEOPATRA (with a mechanical and rigid gesture)
Behold your king!
Nicanor makes a motion of assent as
to the accomplished fact.
NICANOR
Let then the King ascend his throne.
LEOSTHENES (half-rising)
Thoas!
PHILOCTETES
Speak, King Antiochus, God’s chosen king
Who art, not Cleopatra’s.
THOAS
Speak, Antiochus.
ANTIOCHUS
Why didst thou give to me alone the name
Of Syria’s princes? why upon thy right
Hast seated me? or wherefore mad’st thou terms
For that near time when I should be the king,
Chaffering for my consent with arguments
Unneeded if the younger were preferred?
Wilt thou invoke the gods to seal this lie?
CLEOPATRA
Dost thou insult me thus before my world?
Ascend the throne, my son.
ANTIOCHUS
Stay, Timocles.
Make not such haste, my brother, to supplant
Thy elder.
TIMOCLES
My elder?
He looks at Cleopatra.
CLEOPATRA
I have spoken the truth.
MENTHO
Thou hast not; thou art delivered of a lie,
A monstrous lie.
CLEONE
Silence, thou swarthy slave!
MENTHO
I’ll not be silent. She offends the gods.
I am Mentho the Egyptian, she who saw
The royal children born. She lies to you,
O Syrians. Royal young Antiochus
Was first on earth.
THOAS
The truth breaks out at last.
PHAYLLUS
This is a slave the surplus mud of Nile
Engendered. Shall we wrong the Queen by hearing her?
MENTHO
I was a noble Egyptian’s wife in Memphis,
No slave, thou Syrian mongrel, and my word
May stand against a perjured queen’s.
EUNICE (leaning forward)
Is’t done?
Nicanor who has been hesitating, observes
her action and stands forward to speak.
NICANOR
The royal blood of Egypt cannot lie.
Shall Syria’s queen be questioned? Shall common words
Of common men be weighed against the breath of kings?
Let not wild strife arise, O princes, let it not.
Antiochus, renounce unfilial pride;
Wound not thy mother and thy motherland,
Son of Nicanor.
THOAS
Shall a lie prevail?
NICANOR (looking again at Eunice)
It was settled then among you! Be it so.
My sword is bare. I stand for Syria’s king.
PHILOCTETES (in the midst of a general hesitation)
Egyptian Philoctetes takes thy challenge,
Nicanor.
ANTIOCHUS
Who is for me in Syria?
THOAS
I setmy sword
Against Nicanor’s.
LEOSTHENES
I am Leosthenes.
I draw my victor steel for King Antiochus.
ANTIOCHUS
Who else for me?
OTHERS
I! I! and I! and I!
CALLICRATES AND OTHERS
We for King Timocles.
LEOSTHENES
Slay them, cut down
The party of the liars.
There is a shouting and tumult with
drawing and movement of swords.
NICANOR
Protect the King.
Let insolent revolt at once be quenched
And sink in its own blood.
LEOSTHENES
I slay all strife
With the usurper.
THOAS
Stay, stay, Leosthenes.
ANTIOCHUS
Forbear! forbear, I say! let all be still!
The great Seleucus’ house shall not be made
A shambles. Not by vulgar riot, not
By fratricidal murder will I climb
Into my throne, but up the heroic steps
Of ordered battle. Brother Timocles,
That oft-kissed head is sacred from my sword.
Nicanor, thou hast thrown the challenge down;
I lift it up.
CLEOPATRA
O, hear me, son Antiochus.
ANTIOCHUS
I have renounced thee for my mother.
RODOGUNE
Alas!
CLEOPATRA
O wretched woman!
She hurries out followed by Rodogune,
Eunice and Cleone.
NICANOR
Thou shalt not do this evil,
Though millions help thee.
He goes out with Timocles, Phayllus,
Callicrates and the others of his party.
PHILOCTETES
Can we hold the house
And seize the city? We are many here.
THOAS
Nicanor’s troops hold Antioch.
LEOSTHENES
Not here, not here.
Out to the army on the marches! There
Is Syria’s throne, not here in Antioch.
ANTIOCHUS
Mentho,
Go with us. Gather swiftly all our strength,
Then out to Parthia!
Scene 2
A hall in the Palace.
Rodogune, Eunice.
RODOGUNE
God gave my heart and mind; they are not hers
To force into this vile adultery.
I am a Parthian princess, of a race
Who choose one lord and cleave to him for ever
Through death, through fire, through swords, in hell, in heaven.
EUNICE
The Queen’s too broken. It was Phayllus said it.
He has leaped into the saddle of affairs
And is already master. What can we hope for
Left captive in such hands? Not Syria’s throne
Shall you ascend beside your chosen lord,
But as a slave the bed of Timocles.
RODOGUNE
If we remain! But who remains to die?
In Parthian deserts, in Antiochus’ tents!
There we can smile at danger.
EUNICE
Yes, oh, yes!
Deserts for us are safe, not Antioch. Come.
Antiochus and Philoctetes enter from without.
ANTIOCHUS
I sought for you, Eunice, Rodogune.
To saddle! for our bridal pomp and torches
Are other than we looked for.
Phayllus enters from within with Theras.
PHAYLLUS
Today, no later.
The Egyptian rebel ravishes our queen!
Help! help!
ANTIOCHUS
Off, Syrian weasel!
He flings off Phayllus and goes out with
Eunice, Rodogune, Philoctetes.
PHAYLLUS
Theras, pursue them!
Theras hastens out; Phayllus rushes to the window.
Antiochus escapes! Oppose him, sentinels.
A thousand pieces for his head! He’s through.
O for a speedy arrow!
Timocles enters with Cleone.
TIMOCLES
Who escapes?
PHAYLLUS
Thy brother, forcing with him Rodogune,
And with them fled Eunice.
TIMOCLES
Rodogune!
PHAYLLUS
By force he carried her.
TIMOCLES
O no, she went
Smiling and glad. O thou unwise Phayllus,
Why dost thou stay with me, a man that’s doomed?
He will come back and mount his father’s throne
And rule the nations. Why wouldst thou be slain?
All, all’s for him and ever was. I have had
Light loves, light friends, but no one ever loved me
Whom I desired. So was it in our boyhood’s days,
So it persists. He is preferred in heaven
And earth is his and his humanity.
Even my own mother is a Niobe
Because he has renounced her.
PHAYLLUS
I understand,
Seeing this, the reason.
TIMOCLES
Why should he always have the things I prize?
What is his friendship but a selfish need
Of souls to unbosom himself to, who will share,
Mirror and serve his greatness? Yet it was he
The clear discerning Philoctetes chose;
Upon his shoulder leaned my royal uncle
Preferring him to admonish and to love;
On me he only smiled as one too light
For praise or censure. What’s his kingliness
But a lust of grandiose slaughter, an ambition
Almost inhuman and a haughty mind
That lifts itself above the highest heads
As if his mortal body held a god
And all were mean to him? Yet proudest men,
Thoas, Theramenes, Leosthenes,
Become unasked his servants. What’s his love?
A despot’s sensual longing for a slave,
Carnal, imperious, harsh, without respect,
The hunger of the vital self, not raised,
Refined, uplifted to the yearning heart.
Yet Rodogune, my Rodogune to him
Has offered up her moonlit purity,
Her secret need of sweetness. O she has
Unveiled to him her sweet proud heart of love.
She would not look at me who worshipped her.
You too, Phayllus, go, Cleone, go
And serve him in his tents: the future’s there,
Not on this brittle throne with which the gods
In idle sport have mocked me.
PHAYLLUS
There must be a man
Somewhere within this!
CLEONE
You shall not speak so to him.
Look round, King Timocles, and see how many
Prefer you to your brother. I am yours,
Phayllus works for you, princely Nicanor
Protects you, famed Callicrates supports.
Your mother only weeps in fear for you,
Not passion for your brother.
TIMOCLES
Rodogune
Has left me.
PHAYLLUS
We will have her back. Today
Began, today shall end this rash revolt.
Rise up, King Timocles, and be thyself,
Possess thy throne, recover Rodogune.
TIMOCLES
I cannot live unless you bring her back.
PHAYLLUS
That is already seen to. My couriers ride
Before them to Thrasyllus on the hills.
Their flight will founder there.
TIMOCLES
O subtle, quick
And provident Phayllus! Thou, thou, deviser,
Art the sole minister for me. Cleone,
The gods have made thee wholly beautiful
That thou mightst love me.
He goes out with Cleone.
PHAYLLUS
Minister! That’s something,
Not all I work for.
(to Theras who enters)
Well?
THERAS
He has escaped.
Your throw this time was bungled, Chancellor.
PHAYLLUS
I saw his rapid flight; but afterwards?
THERAS
The band of Syrian Phliaps kept the gates.
We shouted loud, but he more quick, more high,
Like some clear-voiced Tyrrhenian trumpet cried,
“Syrians, I am your king,” and they at once,
“Hail, glorious King!” and followed at his word,
Galloping, till on the Orient road they seemed
Like specks on a white ribbon.
PHAYLLUS
Let them go.
There’s yet Thrasyllus. Or if he returns,
Though gods should help, though victory march his friend,
I am here to meet him.
Scene 3
Under the Syrian hills.
Antiochus, his generals, soldiers; Eunice, Rodogune, Mentho.
ANTIOCHUS
What god has moved them from their passes sheer
Where they were safe fromme?
THOAS
They have had word,
No doubt, to take us living.
LEOSTHENES
On!
THOAS
They are
Three thousand, we six hundred arm`ed men.
Shall we go forward?
LEOSTHENES
Onward, still, I say!
ANTIOCHUS
Yes, on! I turn not back lest my proud Fate
Avert her eyes from me. A hundred guard
The princesses.
He goes, followed by Thoas,
Leosthenes, Philoctetes.
EUNICE
He’ll break them like sea-spray;
They shall not stand before him.
RODOGUNE
You missioned angels, guard Antiochus.
As she speaks, the Eremite
enters and regards her.
EUNICE
He is through them, he is through them! How they scatter
Before his sword! My warrior!
RODOGUNE
Who is this man,
Eunice? He is terrible to me.
EREMITE
Who art thou rather, born to be a torch
To kingdoms? Is not thy beauty, rightly seen,
More terrible to men than monstrous forms
Which only frighten?
EUNICE
What if kingdoms burn,
So they burn grandly?
EREMITE
Spirits like thine think so.
Princess of Antioch, hast thou left thy father
To follow younger eyes? Alas, thou knowst not
Where they shall lead thee! It is to gates accursed
And by a dolorous journey.
EUNICE
Beyond all portals
I’ld follow! I am a woman of the Greeks
Who fear not death nor hell.
Antiochus returns.
ANTIOCHUS
Our swords have hewn
A road for us. Who is this flamen?
EREMITE
Hail!
“Rejoice” I cannot say, but greet Antiochus
Who never shall be king.
ANTIOCHUS
Who art thou, speak,
Who barst with such ill-omened words my way
Discouraging new-born victory? What thou knowest,
Declare! Curb not thy speech. I have a mind
Stronger than omens.
EREMITE
I am the appointed voice
Who come to tell thee thou shalt not be king,
But at thy end shall yield to destiny
For all thy greatness, genius, pride and force
Even as the tree that falls. March then no farther,
For in thy path Fate hostile stands.
ANTIOCHUS
If Fate
Would have me yield, let her first break me. On!
EREMITE
The guardians of the path then wait for thee
Vigilant lest the world’s destiny be foiled
By human greatness. March on to thy doom.
ANTIOCHUS
I will. Straight on, whatever doom it be!
EREMITE
Farewell, thou mighty Syrian, soul misled,
Strength born untimely! We shall meet again
When death shall lead thee into Antioch.
He goes.
ANTIOCHUS
March.
