The Two Lovers of Heaven: Chrysanthus and Daria Part 10

Things which these same Christian people In their law hold quite established.

Thus it is my life is troubled, Lost in doubts, emeshed, and tangled.

If to freedom I restore him, I have little doubt that, darkened By the Christian treachery, he Will declare himself instanter Openly a Christian, which Would to me be such a scandal, That my blood henceforth were tainted, And my n.o.ble name were branded.

If I leave him here in prison, So excessive is his sadness, So extreme his melancholy, That I fear 't will end in madness.

In a word, I hold, my nephew, Hold it as a certain axiom, That these dark magician Christians Keep him bound by their enchantments; Who through hatred of my house, And my office to disparage, Now revenge themselves on me Through my only son Chrysanthus.

Tell me, then, what shall I do; But before you give the answer Which your subtle wit may dictate, I would with your own eyes have thee See him first, you 'll then know better What my urgent need demandeth.

Come, he 's not far off, his quarter Is adjoining this apartment; When you see him, I am certain You will think it a disaster Far less evil he should die, Than that in this cruel manner He should outrage his own blood, And my bright escutcheon blacken.

[He opens a door, and Chrysanthus is seen seated in a chair, with his hands and feet in irons.]

CLAUDIUS.

Thus to see my friend, o'erwhelms me With a grief I cannot master.

POLEMIUS.

Stay, do not approach him nearer; For I would not he remarked thee, I would save him the disgrace Of being seen by thee thus shackled.

CLAUDIUS.

What his misery may dictate We can hear, nor yet attract him.

CHRYSANTHUS.

Was ever human fate so strange as mine?

Were unmatched wishes ever mated so?

Is it not enough to feel one form of woe, Without being forced 'neath opposite forms to pine?

A triune G.o.d's mysterious power divine, From heaven I ask for life, that I may know, From heaven I ask for death, life's grisly foe, A fair one's favour in my heart to shrine: But how can death and life so well agree, That I can ask of heaven to end their strife, And grant them both in pitying love to me?

Yet I will ask, though both with risks are rife, Neither shall hinder me, for heaven must be The arbiter of death as well as life.

POLEMIUS.

See now if I spoke the truth.

CLAUDIUS.

I am utterly distracted. (The door closes.

POLEMIUS.

Lest perhaps he should perceive us, Let us move a little further.

Now advise me how to act, Since you see the grief that racks me.

CLAUDIUS.

Though it savours of presumption To white hairs like yours, to hazard Words of council, yet at times Even a young man may impart them: Well-proportioned punishment Grave defects oft counteracteth.

But when carried to extremes, It but irritates and hardens.

Any instrument of music Of this truth is an example.

Lightly touched, it breathes but sweetness, Discord, when 't is roughly handled.

'T is not well to send an arrow To such heights, that in discharging The strong tension breaks the bowstring, Or the bow itself is fractured.

These two simple ill.u.s.trations Are sufficiently adapted To my purpose, of advising Means of cure both mild and ample.

You must take a middle course, All extremes must be abandoned.

Gentle but judicious treatment Is the method for Chrysanthus.

For severer methods end in Disappointment and disaster.

Take him, then, from out his prison, Leave him free, unchecked, untrammelled, For the danger is an infant Without strength to hurt or harm him.

Be it that those wretched Christians Have bewitched him, disenchant him, Since you have the power; for Nature With such careful forethought acteth, That an antidotal herb She for every poison planteth.

And if, finally, your wish Is that he this fatal sadness Should forget, and wholly change it To a happier state and gladder, Get him married: for remember Nothing is so well adapted To restrain discursive fancies As the care and the attachment Centered in a wife and children; Taking care that in this matter Mere convenience should not weigh More than his own taste and fancy: Let him choose his wife himself.

Pleased in that, to rove or ramble Then will be beyond his power, Even were he so attracted, For a happy married lover Thinks of naught except his rapture.

POLEMIUS.

I with nothing such good counsel Can repay, except the frankness Of accepting it, which is The reward yourself would ask for.

And since I a mean must choose Between two extremes of action, From his cell, to-day, my son Shall go forth, but in a manner That will leave his seeming freedom Circ.u.mscribed and safely guarded.

Let that hall which looketh over Great Apollo's beauteous garden Be made gay by flowing curtains, Be festooned by flowery garlands; Costly robes for him get ready; Then invite the loveliest damsels Rome can boast of, to come hither To the feasts and to the dances.

Bring musicians, and in fine Let it be proclaimed that any Woman of ill.u.s.trious blood Who from his delusive pa.s.sions Can divert him, by her charms Curing him of all his sadness, Shall become his wife, how humble Her estate, her wealth how scanty.

And if this be not sufficient, I will give a golden talent Yearly to the leech who cures him By some happy stroke of practice. [Exit.

CLAUDIUS.

Oh! a father's pitying love, What will it not do, what marvel Not attempt for a son's welfare, For his life?

Enter ESCARPIN.

ESCARPIN.

My lord 'por Baco!'

(That 's the G.o.d I like to swear by, Jolly G.o.d of all good rascals) May I ask you what 's the secret?

CLAUDIUS.

You gain little when you ask me For a secret all may know.

After his mysterious absence Your young lord 's returned home ill.

ESCARPIN.

In what way?

CLAUDIUS.

That none can fathom, Since he does not tell his ailment Save by signs and by his manner.

ESCARPIN.

Then he 's wrong, sir, not to tell it Clearly: with extreme exactness Should our griefs, our pains be mentioned.

A back tooth a man once maddened, And a barber came to draw it.

As he sat with jaws expanded, "Which tooth is it, sir, that pains you?"

Asked of him the honest barber, And the patient in affected Language grandly thus made answer, "The penultimate"; the dentist Not being used to such pedantic Talk as this, with ready forceps Soon the last of all extracted.

The poor patient to be certain, With his tongue the spot examined, And exclaimed, his mouth all bleeding, "Why, that 's not the right tooth, master".

"Is it not the ultimate molar?"

Said the barber quite as grandly.

"Yes" (he answered), "but I said The penultimate, and I 'd have you Know, your wors.h.i.+p, that it means Simply that that 's next the farthest".

Thus instructed, he returned To the attack once more, remarking "In effect then the bad tooth Is the one that 's next the last one?"

"Yes", he said, "then here it is", Spoke the barber with great smartness, Plucking out the tooth that then Was the last but one; it happened From not speaking plain, he lost Two good teeth, and kept his bad one.

CLAUDIUS.

Come and something newer learn In the stratagem his father Has arranged to cure the illness Of Chrysanthus, whom he fancies . . .

ESCARPIN.

What?

CLAUDIUS.

Is spell-bound by the Christians Through the power of their enchantments:-- (Since to-day I cannot see thee, [aside.

Cynthia fair, forgive my absence). [Exit.

ESCARPIN.

While these matters thus proceed, I shall try, let what will happen, Thee to see, divine Daria:-- At my love, oh! be not angered, Since the penalty of beauty Is to be beloved: then pardon. [Exit.