SCENE II.
CYPRIAN. Now I am alone, and may,
If my mind can be so lifted,
Study the great problem which
Keeps my soul disturbed, bewilder'd,
Since I read in Pliny's page
The mysterious words there written.
Which define a god; because
It doth seem beyond the limits
Of my intellect to find
One who all these signs exhibits.
This mysterious hidden truth
Must I seek for.
[Reads.
SCENE III.
Enter the DEMON, in gala dress. CYPRIAN.
DEMON [aside]. Though thou givest
All thy thoughts to the research,
Cyprian, thou must ever miss it,
Since I'll hide it from thy mind.
CYPRIAN. There's a rustling in this thicket.
Who is there? who art thou?
DEMON. Sir,
A mere stranger, who has ridden
All this morning up and down
These dark groves, not knowing whither,
Having lost my way, my horse,
To the emerald that encircles,
With a tapestry of green,
These lone hills, I've loosed, it gives him
At the same time food and rest.
I'm to Antioch bound, on business
Of importance, my companions
I have parted from; through listless
Lapse of thought (a thing that happens
To the most of earthly pilgrims),
I have lost my way, and lost
Comrades, servants, and assistants.
CYPRIAN. I am much surprised to learn
That in view of the uplifted
Towers of Antioch, you thus
Lost your way. There's not a single
Path that on this mountain side,
More or less by feet imprinted,
But doth lead unto its walls,
As to its one central limit.
By whatever path you take,
You'll go right.
DEMON. It is an instance
Of that ignorance which in sight
Even of truth the true goal misses.
And as it appears not wise
Thus to enter a strange city
Unattended and unknown,
Asking even my way, 'tis fitter
That 'till night doth conquer day,
Here while light doth last, to linger;
By your dress and by these books
Round you, like a learned circle
Of wise friends, I see you are
A great student, and the instinct
Of my soul doth ever draw me
Unto men to books addicted.
CYPRIAN. Have you studied much?
DEMON. Well, no;
But I've knowledge quite sufficient
Not to be deemed ignorant.
CYPRIAN. Then, what sciences know you?
DEMON. Many.
CYPRIAN. Why, we cannot reach even one
After years of studious vigil,
And can you (what vanity!)
Without study know so many?
DEMON. Yes; for I am of a country
Where the most exalted science
Needs no study to be known.
CYPRIAN. Would I were a happy inmate
Of that country! Here our studies
Prove our ignorance more.
DEMON. No figment
Is the fact that without study,
I had the superb ambition
For the first Professor's chair
To compete, and thought to win it,
Having very numerous votes.
And although I failed, sufficient
Glory is it to have tried.
For not always to the winner
Is the fame. If this you doubt,
Name the subject of your study,
And then let us argue on it;
I not knowing your opinion,
Even although it be the right,
Shall the opposite view insist on.
CYPRIAN. I am greatly gratified
That you make this proposition.
Here in Plinius is a passage
Which much anxious thought doth give me
How to understand, to know
Who's the God of whom he has written.
DEMON. 'Tis that passage which declares
(Well I know the words) this dictum:
"God is one supremest good,
One pure essence, one existence,
Self-sustained, all sight, all hands."
CYPRIAN. Yes, 'tis true.
DEMON. And what is in it
So abstruse?
CYPRIAN. I cannot find
Such a god as Plinius figures.
If he be the highest good,
Then is Jupiter deficient
In that attribute; we see him
Acting like a mortal sinner
Many a time,—this, Danae,
This, Europa, too, doth witness.
Can then, by the Highest Good,
All whose actions, all whose instincts,
Should be sacred and divine,
Human frailty be committed?
DEMON. These are fables which the learned
First made use of, to exhibit
Underneath the names of gods
What in truth was but a hidden
System of philosophy.
CYPRIAN. This reply is not sufficient,
Since such awe is due to God,
None should dare to Him attribute,
None should stain His name with sins,
Though these sins should be fictitious.
And considering well the case,
If the highest good is figured
By the gods, of course, they must
Will what is the best and fittest;
How, then, can some gods wish one thing,
Some another? This we witness
In the dubious responses
Which are by their statues given.
Here you cannot say I speak of
Learned abstractions of the ideal.
To two armies, if two shrines
Promise give of being victors,
One, of course, must lose the battle:
The conclusion is so simple,—
Need I say it? that two wills,
Mutually antagonistic,
Cannot lead unto one end.
They being thus in opposition,
One we must consider good,
One as bad we must consider.
But an evil will in God
Would imply a contradiction:
Then the highest good can dwell not
Among gods who know division.
DEMON. I deny your major, since
These responses may be given,
By the oracles, for ends
Which our intellectual vision
Cannot reach: 'tis providence.
Thus more good may have arisen
To the loser in that battle
Than its gain could bring the winner.
CYPRIAN. Granted; but that god ought not,
For the gods are not malicious,
To have promised victory;—
It would have been quite sufficient,
Without this most false assurance,
The defeat to have permitted.
Then if God must be all sight,
Every god should see distinctly
With clear vision to the end;
Seeing THAT, he erred in fixing
On a false conclusion; then
Though the deity may with fitness
Be divided into persons,
Yet His essence must be single
In the smallest circumstance.
DEMON. It was needful for this business,
That the oracle should rouse
The two hosts alike.
CYPRIAN. If fitting,
There were genii that could rouse them
(Good and bad, as they're distinguished
By the learned), who are, in fact,
Spirits who among us mingle,
And who good and evil acts,
Evil thoughts, suggest and whisper,
A convincing argument
For the immortal soul's existence:
Of these ministers could God
Have made use, nor thus exhibit
He was capable of a lie
To effect his ends?
DEMON. Consider,
That these seeming contradictions
Cannot our firm faith diminish
In the oneness of the gods,
If in things of higher import
They know naught of dissonance.
Take man's wondrous frame, for instance,
Surely that majestic structure
Once conception doth exhibit.
CYPRIAN. If man's maker then were one
He some vantage must have given him
O'er the others; and if they
All are equal,—'tis admitted
That they are so, from the fact
Of their mutual opposition
To each other,—when the thought
Of creating man was hinted
By one god, another could
Say, "No, no, I do not wish it."
Then if God must be all hands,
Time might come when they would differ,
One creating, one undoing,
Ere the other's work was finished,
Since the power of each was equal,
But unequal were their wishes.
Which of these two powers would conquer?
DEMON. On impossible and false issues
There can be no argument;—
But your premises admitting,
Say what then?
CYPRIAN. That there must be
One sole God, all hands, all vision,
Good Supreme, supreme in grace,
One who cannot err, omniscient,
One the highest, none can equal,
Not beginning, yet the Beginner,
One pure essence, one sole substance,
One wise worker, ozone sole willer;—
And though He in one or two
Or more persons be distinguished,
Yet the sovereign Deity
Must be one, sublime and single,
The first cause of every cause,
The first germ of all existence.
DEMON. How can I deny so clear,
[They rise.
So conclusive a position?
CYPRIAN. Do you feel it?
DEMON. Who would not
Feel to find another quicker
In the rivalry of wit?—
And though I am not deficient
In an answer, I restrain it,
Hearing steps approaching hither
Through the wood; besides 'tis time
I proceeded to the city.
CYPRIAN. Go in peace.
DEMON. Remain in peace.—
[Aside.
So involved in study IS he,
That I now must wean him from it,
Weaving round him the bewitchment
Of rare beauty. Since I have leave
To attempt my fires to kindle
In Justina's breast, one stroke,
Thus, two vengeances shall give me.
[Exit.
CYPRIAN. Never saw I such a man.
But since still my people linger,
I, the cause of so much doubt,
Will now strive to reconsider.
[He resumes his reading, without perceiving
the approach of those who enter.
SCENE IV.
Enter LELIUS and FLORUS.—CYPRIAN.
LELIUS. Further let us not proceed;
For these rocks, these boughs so thickly
Interwoven, that the sun
Cannot even find admittance,
Shall be the sole witnesses
Of our duel.
FLORUS. Then, this instant
Draw your sword; for here are deeds,
If in words elsewhere we've striven.
LELIUS. Yes, I know that in the field,
While the tongue is mute, the glitter
Of the sword speaks thus.
[They fight.
CYPRIAN. What's this?
Hold, good Florus! Lelius, listen!—
Here until your rage is calmed,
Even unarmed I stand betwixt ye.
LELIUS. Thus to interrupt my vengeance,
Whence, O Cyprian, have you risen
Like a spectre?
FLORUS. A wild wood-god,
Have you from these tree-trunks issued?
SCENE V.
Enter MOSCON and CLARIN.
MOSCON. Yonder, where we left our master,
I hear sword-strokes; run, run quickly.
CLARIN. Well, except to run away,
I am anything but nimble;—
Truly a retiring person.
MOSCON and CLARIN. Sir....
CYPRIAN. No more: your gabble irks me.—
How? What's this? Two noble friends,
Who in blood, in birth, in lineage,
Are to-day of Antioch all
Its expectancy, the city's
Eye of fashion, one the son
Of the Governor, of the princely
House Colalto, one the heir,
Thus to peril, as of little
Value, two such precious lives
To their country and their kindred?
LELIUS. Cyprian, although respect
Which on many grounds I give thee,
Holds my sword suspended thus
In due deference for an instant,—
To the scabbard's calm repose
It hath got no power to win it.
Thou of science knowest more,
Than the duel, pretermitting
This, that when two nobles meet
In the field, no power can link them
Friends again, save this, that one
Must his life give as a victim.
FLORUS. This I also say, and ask thee,
With thy people, that thou quittest,
Leaving us to end our quarrel
Without any help or hindrance.
CYPRIAN. Though it seems to you my calling
Makes me know the laws but little
Of the duel—that strict code
Valour and vain pride have written,
You are wrong, for I was born
With the obligations fitting
Rank like yours, to know in truth
Infamy and honour's limits.
The devotion to my studies
Has my courage not diminished,
For they oftentimes shake hands
Arms and letters as though kinsmen.
If to meet here in the field
Was the quarrel's first condition,
Having met and fought, its lies
Calumny can never whisper.
And the cause you thus can tell me
Of the feud that brings you hither;
For I promise, if, on hearing
What to me is thus committed,
I perceive that satisfaction
Must on either side be given,
Here to leave you both alone,
Unobserved by any witness.
LELIUS. Then on this condition solely,
That you leave us, when the bitter
Truth is told, to end our quarrel,
I to tell the cause am willing.
I a certain lady love,
The same lady as his mistress
Florus also loves; now see,
How incompatible are our wishes!—
Since betwixt two jealous nobles
No mediation is admitted.
FLORUS. I this lady love so much,
That the sunlight I would hinder
From beholding her sweet face.
Since then all interposition
Is in vain, pray stand aside,
And our quarrel let us finish.
CYPRIAN. Stay, for one more thing I'd know.
Tell me this of your fair mistress,
Is she possible to your hopes,
Or impossible to your wishes?—
LELIUS. Oh: she is so good and wise,
That if even the sun enkindled
Jealousy in the heart of Florus,
It was jealousy pure and simple,
Without cause, for even the sun
Dare not look upon her visage.
CYPRIAN. Would you marry with her, then?
FLORUS. This is all my heart's ambition.
CYPRIAN. And would you?
LELIUS. Ah, would to heaven,
I were destined for such blisses!—
For although she's very poor,
Virtue dowers her with its riches.
CYPRIAN. If you both aspire to wed her,
Is it not an act most wicked,
Most unworthy, thus beforehand
Her unspotted fame to injure?
What will say the world, if one
Of you two shall marry with her
After having killed the other
For her sake? The supposition
Is not probable in fact,
To imagine it is sufficient.
I by no means say you should
Each your chances try to win her
At one time, for I would blush
Such a craven proposition
Came from me, because the lover
Who could keep his jealousy hidden,
Would condone even shame thereafter,
Were the opportunity given;
But I say that you should learn
Which of you it is your mistress
Gives the preference to, then....
LELIUS. Stay!—
For it were an act too timid,
Too faint-hearted thus to ask
Of a lady such admission
As the choosing him or me.
For if me she chose, more fixed
Is my call for satisfaction;
For his fault has this addition,
He loves one who loves but me.
If to him the choice is given,
This intensifies my anger
All the more, that she, my mistress,
Whom I love, should love another.
Her selection could do little
In the matter, which at last
To our swords should be committed,—
The accepted for his honour,
The refused for his dismissal.
FLORUS. I confess that I adopt
Altogether that opinion,
Still the privilege of selection
May to ladies be permitted;
So to-day I mean to ask her
Of her father. 'Tis sufficient
To have come here to the field,
And my naked sword uplifted,
(Specially as one is by
Who the further fight resisteth,)
For my honour;—so to sheathe,
Lelius, my sword I'm willing.
[Sheathes his sword.
LELIUS. By your argument and action,
Florus, you have half convinced me;
I forego the remaining half—
True or false, I thus act with you.
[Sheathes his sword.
I to-day will seek her father.
CYPRIAN. On, of course, the supposition,
That this lady you pay court to
Suffers naught by the admission,
Since you both have spoken proudly
Of her virtue and her strictness,
Tell me who she is; for I,
Who am held throughout the city
In esteem, would for you both
Speak to her at first a little
That she thus may be prepared
When her father tells your wishes.
LELIUS. You are right.
CYPRIAN. Her name?
FLORUS. Justina,
Daughter of Lysander.
CYPRIAN. Little,
Now that I have heard her name,
Seem the praises you have given her;
She is virtuous as she's noble.
Instantly I'll pay my visit.
FLORUS [aside]. May heaven grant that in my favour
Her cold heart be moved to pity!
[Exit.
LELIUS. Love, my hopes with laurels crown
When they are to her submitted!
[Exit.
CYPRIAN. Further mischief or misfortune,
Grant me, heaven, that I may hinder!
[Exit.
SCENE VI.
MOSCON, CLARIN.
MOSCON. Has your worship heard our master
Now is gone to pay a visit
To Justina?
CLARIN. Yes, my lord.
But what matter if he didn't?
MOSCON. Matter quite enough, your worship;
He has no business there.
CLARIN. Why, prithee?
MOSCON. Why? because I die for Livia,
Who is maid to this Justina,
And I wouldn't have even the sun
Get a glimpse of her through the window.
CLARIN. Well, that's good; but, for a lady,
To contend were worse than silly,
Whom I mean to make my wife.
MOSCON. Excellent, faith! the fancy tickles
Quite my fancy. Let her say
Who it is that annoys or nicks her
To a nicety. Let's go see her,
And she'll choose.
CLARIN. A good idea!—
Though I fear she'll pitch on you.
MOSCON. Have you then that wise suspicion?
CLARIN. Yes; for always these same Livias
Choose the worst, th'ungrateful minxes.*
[Exeunt.
[footnote] *The 'asonante' versification in 'i-e', which has been
kept up through these six scenes, ends here. The seventh scene
commences in rhymed five-line stanzas, which change to the asonante
in e-e, at the beginning of Lysander's long speech.