flass PS 3 5«£3 Bonk QA7Hf OojpghtN _j3j2-£— COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT; 3Sp (3ttn%z Cabot Lofcge HERAKLES. 121x10,$ 1.2$, net. Postage extra. THE GREAT ADVENTURE. i2mo, $i.ao t net. Postpaid, $1.07. CAIN: A Drama. 12010, $1.00, net. Postpaid, $1.09. HOUGHTON MIFFLIN COMPANY Boston and New York HERAKLES HERAKLES BY GEORGE CABOT LODGE f&mrnmzTm BOSTON AND NEW YORK HOUGHTON MIFFLIN COMPANY 1908 fit's I we R ESS! Two C( &OY 17 1908 Copyright Entry _ COPYRIGHT, I90S, BY GEORGE CABOT LODGE ALL RIGHTS RESERVED Published November igo8 \V "... Amphitryon, banished from Tiryns, estab- lished himself at Thebes. Herakles, brought up in that city and skilful in physical exercises, surpassed all other men in the strength of his body and the greatness of his soul. He was scarcely adolescent when he deliv- ered Thebes [from the tyranny of Erginus and the Minyans], and thus paid his debt of gratitude to his country. . . . The fame of this exploit spread through the whole of Greece, and every one admired it as a prodigy. Creon, the King, himself impressed by the courage of the young man, gave him his daughter Megara in marriage; and, treating him like his own son, confided to him the government of his kingdom. But Eurystheus, King of Argos, jealous of the growth of the power of Herakles, summoned him to appear be- fore him, and ordered him to perform his labours. At first Herakles refused, but Zeus commanded him to obey Eurystheus. Herakles went to Delphi, and, having con- sulted the oracle, he was told that the Gods ordered him to perform the twelve labours, and that, after their completion, he would receive immortality. " On receiving this command, Herakles fell into great distress [of mind] ... he was seized with a frenzy. . . . Madness took possession of his sick mind ... in one of his ecstasies of fury, . . . Herakles pierced with arrows the children which he had had by Megara. . [ v ] Having recovered from his madness and become aware of his error, he was greatly afflicted by the excess of his misfortune ... he remained quietly withdrawn in his house for a long time, avoiding all human society. Time having calmed his grief, Herakles went to Eurystheus, determined to affront every peril [and per- form the labours]. . . . " Zeus kept Prometheus chained for having given fire to mankind, and caused his heart to be devoured by an eagle. Herakles, seeing that Prometheus was punished only for having done good to men, . . > saved the common benefactor." Diodorus Siculus, iv, 10-11, and 15. CHARACTERS Herakles Megara, his wife Amphitryon, his father Alcmena, his mother Iolaus, his nephew The Three Sons of Herakles (in infancy) The Poet The Woman Creon, King of Thebes, father of Megara The Messenger of Eurystheus Teiresias The Pythia, at the Temple of Apollo at Delphi The Prophetes at the Temple of Apollo at Delphi Prometheus also Men and Harlots from the Tavern The Chorus of Respondents, in the Temple of Zeus at Thebes The Chorus of Worshippers, before the Temple of Apollo at Delphi The Chorus of Old Men, before the Temple of Hera at Thebes also Guests at the King's feast, Populace, Soldiers, Messen- gers, Slaves, etc. FIRST SCENE The Agora at Thebes. Sunset. The Agora is empty except jor the WOMAN, who is seated on a bench against the wall of a house, and the POET, who stands before her, facing the sunset. HERAKLES FIRST SCENE The POET The birds go home at sunset, and my heart Goes home. The day closes its tired wings, And in the violet evening there are stars And silence And the best there was to do, The best of us we left undone to-day, Now like a warrior worn with doubtful wars, Waits for the morrow, heart-sick yet resolved. The sense of life is secret and serene At twilight, and the flame of life — The WOMAN Is love ! The POET turns as tho' suddenly recalled to a sense of her presence, and looks at her for a moment in silence. The POET Of old your eyes persuade the heart like peril. You are the Siren of the seas of life. What stately ships, full-sailed for Paradise, Captained by young, superb adventurers, Haughty in hope, impassioned in resolve, [ 3 ] HERAKLES Thrilled with a mystic wonder in the mind, Drawn from their course, lie shipwrecked on your shores ! — What is your wish with me ? I saw your eyes Call to my heart across the crowded square. Now in the sunset all the crowd is gone. We are alone. Why did you summon me? A moment's pause. The WOMAN You are but newly come into the city? The POET Since yesterday. The WOMAN What race and place are yours ? The POET In Athens was I born, and there my youth Was spent, and there, if home there be, is home. The WOMAN Why are you come to Thebes? What hope of good, What fear of ill impels your feet so far ? The POET My hope is nameless, and the ills I dread Are housed within me ! — but the restless mind [ 4 ] FIRST SCENE While there is life, affords us no reprieve; The impatient heart, eagerly and beyond The daybreak and the dark, drives us afar Over strange oceans and unvisited lands The WOMAN The impatient heart ! — O Heart of man that yearns After the Stranger Woman of young dreams ! The POET I know ! I know ! — young dreams ! But mine are old, Tragic and old, divine and real as life, And dwell within me like a visitation Of Truth's unconquerable and mystic hope WTiereof no part is the flushed heart's desire. What tho' — as inwardly my blood believes — You were the Stranger Woman — The WOMAN < I am She ! And anciently and now I am the one Inveterate quest of life's dream-haunted days. In myriad ways you seek me, and you find Me ! — tho' you think to find a lordlier thing. Yet, tho' you find me, you shall know me not, And I am strange to you forever ! [ 5 ] HERAKLES The POET To me Nothing of you is strange — unless your name ! I have had many lives before, where you Were something more to me than life itself; And after all my youth's vexed years with you, I know you and your secret — and the soul Within you, dark and undivined, I know ! I am so long possessed of you I seem To have you as I have the voice of song, Clear in my heart and brain. There is no phrase Of laughter or desire or lamentation In all the tones and tremors of your voice, Various as wind, no silver gayeties, No cries, tense and tear-laden, strange to me. There is no perfume, bounty, brilliancy Or pleasure of your body, nor the least Stir of your subtle silks I know not of. I know the grave, smooth silence of your brows ; And when your lips are eloquent and flushed With hunger and with thirst of love, I know you ! I know the swift, sweet motion of your hands When they are fain of touch and tenderness And I have long explored and learned to know The deep, dark twilights of your eyes and hair, The young, pale profile of your breasts — and how You are all warm and lustrous and superb! Neither within the house of ivory, [ « ] FIRST SCENE The house of rose and pearl, am I a stranger : Your thought is in my brain, your mighty heart Is in my heart, — your soul is in my soul ! I know the chaste reluctance and the wild Appeal of the indomitable desire When life is given entire as love will! And I have seen and celebrate in you The patient, tender truth and trust and care, The soul's perfection breathing into life Thro* love's obscure and elemental ways The WOMAN You love me ! I am she ! I am the quest, I am the goal ! — You love me ! The POET I have learned How, in the last fulfilment of the spirit, There is a nobler end for life than love, There is a nobler end for love than you ! The WOMAN You have not well beheld me, who I am, — The Stranger Woman, even the truth of dreams, Splendid and strong and secret The POET Fairer still Is the celestial bride, and statelier ! I have so greatly loved you that my love [ 7 ] • HERAKLES Is grown out of its childhood, which you are, To more than you can welcome — more than all Your love and you can freely welcome home ! I am alone and silent after all; For none receive me now, none love me now Time was when you received me, when your heart Was radiant and a refuge to me! — then I uttered and was heard ! — and I devised To set the sunset-coloured gem of song Upon your brows, to make your raiment of The unquiet silver of calm, moonlit seas, To give you sandals hued like flowers, and fill Your eyes with daybreak, and transfuse your hair With forest-twilights when the leaves are young And it is morning ! Then I said the new, The utmost things, and all things of you ; kissed The wine-cup and your lips — straitly to feel The sacred frenzy shake this heart that bears The sacred flame, until I sang to you The wonder-song of the primeval earth — How Eros was first-born of all the Gods, And first made Chaos pregnant of the world. O there was that to rouse me in a woman ! — The beauty that is wanton as life is ; The candour that is crystal-clear as stars; The love that has no other end but life, The life that has no other end but love; And all she is not, and the secrecy [ 8 ] FIRST SCENE She is, — and life's lost wisdom, pure of thought, Which rises in her from what sunless springs ! . . But now the ecstasies of thought advance The torch beyond the precincts of your love, Beyond the human pale of your dominion. The WOMAN So does life weary when its youth is spent — And you count weariness a kind of wisdom ! O you are wise — in words ! You are a poet ! The cheat is not too plain. Yet one discerns How you are chafed and sharpened with desire ! The thrill strikes thro' — and you make poems of it, Since there's imagination left at least To prove us how we are not respectable And give to lust a lyric rapture : — Yes ! Tamed tho' he be, the animal will sing! The POET The animal will sing and drink and lust And lie with you and love you — as a beast Can love ! for these and all hilarities Of the hot blood are still and anciently The same — they share their excellence with you ! It is alone the spirit which is chaste ; Which is austere and high; which is not eased By all old pious and pleasurable things ; Which is athirst for news ! — and in the search [ » ] HERAKLES Is ventured out of your horizons, far Gone past you and beyond you, to return No more whether the quest prove real or vain ! I guess myself is more than you suppose, And excellent even beyond my dreams ! — Who shall instruct me further what I am And shame my aspiration by their own ? Not you, indeed ! I know your message to me. You tell me nothing : for it is not I, The lyric voice, the florid animal, The lover, who is yours — as he must be Who asks neither advancement nor the news ! The WOMAN What are you more than sense and sentiment, Like other men ? I have known men enough ! — And many men your betters, and some men Strained to a singular high attitude Like yours, — and I have found where lust was laired In all of them ! You leave me undeceived : The brute nurses his passions at your breast, And at the heart of your humanity There is the weak, wild longing of all men Merely for love and life's companioned joys And the mild fruit of happiness. The POET Not I Am minded any more for facile things. t 10 ] FIRST SCENE For the indwelling God stirs in his sleep Within me, seeing in dreams the early light Of dawn blur the blind casement of his room, The WOMAN Poor windy man, so grandly, with God's name, Mystic and eloquent ! O you are desolate As a dead mind ! I may not well believe Laughter stirs nowhere in you — as in me It leaps to shatter down your dreams The POET Of all Sad things I least can laugh with you. Despise, Pity me as you will, yet so it is : I have not any sense of humour in me ! I was not once so naked to the truth, So daring and defenceless; I was keen- Sighted to see the humour of the thing And none outlaughed me ! — but at last I felt Something more terrible than ridicule Strangely and stern as justice in myself ! Then your alert and cherished humour-sense Sickened and all died out in me, died utterly Away and left me with an abject smile, Which, like a threadbare cloak, can scarce afford Decent concealment to me from the world, — And something that still serves for laughter when [ 11 ] HERAKLES The wine is in me ! But my secret is That I am serious ! You will think me mad ! But there have lightened to my inward eye Spacious and radiant serenities Wherein there is a voice calling me on ! My heart is shaken with the power of it ! Before my citadel it sounds a challenge To wake the audacious virtues of the soul, Which are themselves their own sole arbiter ! — Therefore I can no longer laugh with you. I am too tensely nerved with expectation Still to discern and celebrate the joke, And sort my mood with yours. A moment's pause. And so all's said, And I will leave you with your life, your love, Your laughter — which I neither serve nor share. Night has fallen. The POET pauses a moment and then starts to go. The WOMAN rises suddenly and prepares to follow him. The WOMAN It shall not be — I will not leave you now. A moment's silence while the POET looks at her intently. The POET Why do you follow me ? [ 12 ] FIRST SCENE The WOMAN I have no light. The POET And have I any you are witness of ? — You know not what I am nor where I go. The WOMAN I have discerned that you are something more Than other men, to me. You give my life Serious, at last, and strange significance. And there is latent in your words to me Expression of supreme and secret things, Phrases of song that bring a high, swift sense Of flight and of adventure to the soul ! And what I have received of other men You give me not — the love, the lust, the gold, Which are a woman's price to the whole world. O, I am curious of the fellowship Of one who will not love me lest he lose The marriage-kiss of the celestial bride, — Lest being my master he is not his own, And gaining me he lose himself thereby. Therefore I will not leave you — for a little It may be I shall one day touch the term And find the worth of words, as now I am Not curious of love nor eager any more. Then I shall leave you and go on with life, Satiated anew and hungry as of old ! [ " ] HERAKLES The POET Hungry ? — for news ! for news ! You know it too, The hunger and the thirst that drive us on, As once the gad-fly drove across the world The paranymph of God, delirious Io ? You know the hunger? — then we'll go together, Whither we cannot tell, nor to what end ! End of the First Scene. SECOND SCENE A later hour of the same night as in the first scene. A jeast in the palace of CREON. About the feast-table are CREON, HERAKLES, AMPHI- TRYON, ALCMENA, MEGARA, IOLAUS, and other men and women of noble Theban families. A HERALD stands behind the King's chair. The feast is served by slaves and the door guarded by soldiers. \ SECOND SCENE CREON to the HERALD The feast is ended. Call for silence ! The HERALD Silence ! Silence ! The King will speak ! There is silence. Then is heard a murmur as of a great throng outside the palace. A moment's pause, CREON Hearken ! To-night There is a rumour in my porticoes Of multitudes. It is my people. I Have called them, and this hour would straitly speak With them and you. I have not lightly caused Assemblage of yourselves and all the sons Of Cadmus, for with news of great concern To all my people am I charged to-night. To the guards Therefore set open wide the doors and bid [ I? ] HERAKLES My Thebans enter ! I have words to say And deeds to do that must not longer wait. The doors are thrown open and the people enter with- out confusion. Gradually the entire hall is completely filled. When they are all entered and silence is reestablished, CREON without rising; in an even, clear, quiet voice Children of Cadmus — Thebans — Citizens — My people! — Hear me for your own concern! And rest assured I treat to-night with you No less a matter than the commonwealth. Yet I beseech you to be patient with me Also for some small business of my own — Some phrases of a life's apology That I've matured with life itself for you, And now at last have ordered and prepared — Briefly, at least, and cheerfully! — to suit Your understanding — and my own as well! A moment's pause. I am your King; and I am old — and wise! For wisdom — when the latter end of life Becomes indeed a luminous and large Tranquillity, as of some afternoon Of Autumn and calm weather by the sea — Inures at last — after so many years ! At least there is a fine unfettered sense Of liberality which leads me on [ 18 ] SECOND SCENE To say that I am wise — and you will judge And disapprove me if you must ! You may Believe me that I know what must be done While there is hope and Fortune's face is toward; And I can now afford your censure! Yes, I can afford at last expensive things Which cost a man the kingdoms of the world And all their glory ! I have lived my life ; And there is nothing now can make it worth My while to shirk by any cant or creed, Enthusiasm or expectancy, Silence or sentiment, the free, extreme Analysis, the unrelenting, clear, Calm vision of a disenchanted mind. You cannot bribe me now by any threat Of ruin to my life's high edifice, Or any dazzled prospect of ambition — Hope or desire that it may one day grow Statelier and all my dreams come true of it ! — To keep the old, pathetic, pitiable Conspiracy of silence and pretence That barely saves the faith on which you build ! I know that you must build while there is hope Of profit, while the Bride is beautiful, While Fortune's prize, in whatsoever coin The world receives, inflames you to the task; And while you build you cannot help but say Your architecture is the noblest art — [ 19 ] HERAKLES The only art that life can labour at ! You see the torch of life held high and bright Over my disillusion, and your hearts Are sad for me — but I rejoice with you! For I have built — and care not very much What happens ! I am patient of all fools Who leave the why unasked ; and I am mild With knaves, who teach the bawdy, blatant beast Pious and pleasant ways, — for I am old And unimpassioned and contemplative. I think, despite these sceptical strange words, You will respect me, — for I am your King, And I have proved myself among you all An architect. Therefore you will not say, "This is the voice of failure!" — yet I know That you will find some other things to say Not half so true ! For when a man is old, He knows, at least, how utterly himself Has failed ! But say what things of me you will — And be assured I sympathize ! Indeed, A voice like mine is no-wise terrible, As might be the tremendous voice of truth, Should it find speech that you could understand ! Yet it may vex and dreadfully distress Reflective men — if such indeed there be Among you all — and therefore be assured I sympathize! A moment's pause. [ 20 ] SECOND SCENE And so I give you thanks And take my leave. I think you almost guess The public business which is your concern — And mine, since I concern the state and you. Briefly 't is mete that I advise you of it : I am your King — and will be so no more! Take leave of me, my people ! for at last I have divined a man more apt than I To wage your wars and guide your policies. — A moment's pause. The King rises. All those seated at table follow his example. To him, Children of Cadmus, O my people, I yield your government, as I bequeath, When I am dead, my crown and realm to him ! His praise is in your hearts ; and by my will, And with your leave and loving welcome, he Shall be your Lord and govern in my place, Who slew Erginus and delivered Thebes — My grandsons' father and in love my son — Herakles ! The HERALD Hail! All hail to Herakles! A storm of enthusiasm breaks out among the people. When it has subsided and quiet is restored, all eyes turn to HERAKLES. A moment of silence. Then he begins to speak, finding his words with excitement and difficulty. [ 21 ] HERAKLES HERAKLES Children of Cadmus ! — You have heard the King — You know his will — but mine you shall not know Till all is known and there is Justice in me ! Justice — and Truth ! Nothing is yet resolved — Nothing! And who can tell what Truth shall be? The adventurer departs ; the tidal drift Clutches his keel ; his eyes are dazed and dark ; Strange are his dreams ; — and the discovery Is far! But should I find myself, be sure That I will be a guide unto you all ! A moment's pause. I'll say no more! — Nothing is yet resolved A moment of silence. At last the people applaud. Then, at a sign from the King, the doors are again thrown open and the citizens pass out. The King remains standing after they are gone. MEGARA, ALC- MENA, AMPHITRYON, IOLAUS and the other guests at the feast surround HERAKLES, pouring forth congratulations and applause. HER- AKLES, deeply moved, withdraws violently from the embraces of his family and the acclamations of his friends and, turning toward the King, breaks silence with profound passion. HERAKLES Is this your wisdom, Sire ? and is it wise, Lightly, and thus with calm complacency, [ 22 ] SECOND SCENE Now to believe that I, that Herakles Should hold himself so cheaply as your price ? How have you come to think me, whom you love And praise, so vain a thing and spiritless, That I, like any rash, rapacious man, Should seize this brief preferment and renown And block with brilliant insufficiencies The fair-way of ambition ? — By the Gods, How pitiable a thing is man's regard ! Since you, who count yourself matured in truth, Can guess no nobler destiny for man Than all his life to be as you have been, Public and proud, constrained and crafty-wise, As fortune served and chance was bountiful: — Himself, the while, illiberal and unknown, Captive and undelivered and deceived ! Turning to the others And you ! I marvel who it is you name, With tears and praise and passion, Herakles ! By God ! What gives you leave to think of me So meanly, and rejoice to see me sold Like any common man for a small thing ? Have I not loved you all, incessantly Loved you and lived with you? — yet in despite Of all love's witness and the test of time You dare to hold me in so little honour That you have thought me apt to be content [ 23 ] HERAKLES In these safe human mediocrities — That you have deemed my hope so temperate, For what I am, as fortune and renown Or all the world's casual supremacies ! For my whole life long, with my whole heart's love, I have been with you — and you have not known me! ALCMENA What ails you, child ? My child ! I love you, know you — You are my son ! HERAKLES My self is yet unborn, Which was not when your womb conceived and bore ! AMPHITRYON What rage is this ? Implore the King's forgiveness ! Pray to the Gods who have shown favour to you ! HERAKLES turning to the King Sire, I will not serve the Gods or you ! Sire, I will not rule by grace of God Or by your grace ! I will be Lord of none, And thus unto myself be Lord and Law! — No longer speaking directly to the King You think to bribe and browbeat Herakles, [ 24 ] SECOND SCENE Force his desire and cheat his hope: — at last Learn from my lips that I will not be less In hope or longing than a man must be ! I, with the soul's immortal thirst to slake, How shall I down into the shallow stream Where beasts and many men have drunk together And left foul waters strangled in their course? Nay, by this cup I am not comforted, I am not stayed ! — Rather, I swear to you Thirst shall consume me unappeased until I fill my pitcher at the living source, The secret, spiritual springs that rise, Radiant and crystalline in the deep light, Far on the utmost heights unvisited ! You know me not — and scarce have I begun To know myself ! Yet this at least I know : The life-lust and the florid animal Which laughs and longs, is pleasured and distressed — The heart that feels and feigns, that faints and dreams, That sorrows and is glad — the facile brain That schemes and lies and is alert to seize Success and is ambitious of no more Than serviceable ingenuity Can aptly compass — that supremely serves To methodize the waste of the world's work To profitable order and endow Life's labour with a seeming worth and end — These are not I ! [ 25 ] HERAKLES CREON Your pardon ! — and be sure I have no angered heart nor outraged pride To vex you with! — I pray you answer me One idle question : — after all, what else Is there of you save life and heart and brain ? You are what feels and thinks and is. What else Is Herakles ? — are you ? HERAKLES I am what knows ! I am myself, that knows — and shall be known ! End of the Second Scene. THIRD SCENE Later of the same night as in the first two scenes. It is a clear, calm night of moon and stars. A public street near the city wall. At regular intervals the wall is rendered accessible by flights of narrow stone steps. The inner face of the wall is in a deep shadow which stretches out almost to the street. HERAKLES appears, emerging from the shadow, as he climbs the nearest flight of steps. He reaches the top of the wall and pauses a moment in silence. THIRD SCENE HERAKLES I know them now but me they shall not know, Even at last ! My youth was spent with them ; They were my most familiar and my friends — My lovers and the lights of welcome to me Yet they discerned me not, they knew not me ! — And never shall they know what I become ! Death is between us now: my youth is dead, And I am dying ! and I shall be reborn Beyond their understanding and their love Even now I was a very stranger to them ! How shall it be when all myself has been Is passed away and I am born again ? I dare not yet believe how utterly I shall be loveless then — even when love is A better thing to give, and, to receive, A more exalted thing ! Then I shall know, And be unknown ; I shall be friendless then However I am heart-sick and alone ! — O tender twilights of the days gone by, Peopled with those we loved and leave behind ! — O secret, great departures, shared by none, Cheered by no friendly voices from the shore, No lamps set seaward for the ship's return ! — t 29 ] HERAKLES irremediable solitude Of him who sails, adrift and harbourless, Far out into the distance and the dawn ! — Speak to my heart — when shall my lover come ? Where is my friend ? and how shall I be known ? And who shall know me ? When the Child is born, The desolate immortal Child, I know That in the night of his tremendous birth, And in the dreadful solitude, he wails And wonders and is no-wise comforted ! Shall none receive the Child ? Am I at once The knower and the known ? Is there no light From soul to soul, no love from heart to heart Can span the abyss and flame across the cold, Dark, dreadful spaces of my isolation ? 1 need assurance, now since love has failed So far, and life has so far failed to prove Myself or make me manifest to men. Who shall assure me and bear witness to me ? Whence shall the signal — as from star to star Rings the clear cry of the celestial choir — Sound thro' the tragic taciturnities Of solitude, to me ? to me at last ! — Love to the Lover, welcome to the Friend, Raptures of recognition to the Lord ! HERAKLES pauses a moment; then turns and slowly goes back down the steps by which he ascended. As he descends he becomes gradually engulfed in the [ 30 ] THIRD SCENE deep shadow. Before he reaches the ground, the POET and the WOMAN appear ascending to the wall by another flight of steps, some distance away. They reach the top and pause a moment gazing over the landscape. When at last they begin to speak, the sound of their voices causes HERAKLES to stop ; and he continues to stand attentive and stirless in the shadow of the wall. The POET Where is Endymion ? The moon replies, Hence is my lover ! and the heart cries, Hence ! And hence the soul discerns the perfect friend ! They lure us hence, the patient hills and fields ; The streams persuade us hence — hence to the sea, Where as of old the mythos of the life Of man enacts its endless destiny, And vast horizons indicate the soul ! Hence is the furtherance of hope — The WOMAN The song You lately sang cries to the spirit, Hence! Sing me the song again, for I would learn The words and have it in my heart alway. The POET I made it on a day of happiness, And I am glad to-night — of life, and you [ 31 ] HERAKLES He sings. He is on the road before us, who is Lord and Life and Lover, He is forward in the fair-way, he is secret, swift and far; And our eyes shall wake to find him and our hungry hearts discover, As he leads us, where we follow ; as he loves us, what we are ! Where the winds are shouting seaward, where the sea is streaming onward, Where the Voice calls down to find us, fearless on the starlit way, We who watch shall make the land-fall as the ship drives shoreward, sunward, Where the mountains rise resplendent, rose-wreathed in the dawn of day ! There his heart shall be our father-house, his arms receive and hold us ; — As he knows us we are equal ; as he trusts us we are free! We shall learn surpassing secrets that no lips but his have told us, We shall find in his embrace ourselves transformed to more than we! [ 32 ] THIRD SCENE And thereafter in his house shall he alone be Lord and Master ; Life shall yield to his dominion ; they shall serve who once were proud ; We shall go with him together up the pathway fast and faster ; We shall see the stars surround us as his eyes dissolve the cloud ! We shall see the skies stand open; we shall hear the stars in chorus; From the shining peaks of thought his voice shall answer, pure and high; And the spacious gates of light shall stand asunder full before us; And, as all alone we enter, we shall know the Lord is I! The WOMAN How mystic, mad and possible it seems, How like a clearance of life's tangled skein, To dream, to say, to sing, " I am the Lord ! " Poet ! you know me better than myself The POET My poems are made of more than all I know A moment of silence. [ 33 ] HERAKLES The WOMAN Shall we go farther on ? — no matter where, So we go on The POET How the heart melts with song! How the brain reels in the storm- wind of thought ! , Come, let us go ! The light is there The POET and the WOMAN turn and go down the wall, away from the spot where HERAKLES is standing. The two figures seem to disappear in the distance. HERAKLES emerging from the shadow into the moonlit street The light! — There where my dreams discern an excellence Unrealized, which I am — whither I go ! I have but matched the beast with other beasts, The man with other men ; and when my strength, Impatient and unused, challenged me on, I have but guessed that haply, with the Gods At strife, God was within me, to defy Their curse and prove their equal and prevail ! Now let me learn to say, I am the Lord ! Since in the forward vistas of my hope, There is the Lord, the Saviour — there am I ! For thus I am assured my end is not Where the world ends and humble hopes go home ; Where men are crowned and beasts are satiated ! — [ 34 ] THIRD SCENE Too well I know that I contain them all — The serpent, wolf and jackal, ape and cur, Lion and hog : — of old the beasts are laired In life's primeval wilderness, the dark, Trackless and devil-haunted waste within me ! Yet, in the mind's rapt outlook, I discern That in the jungle is the Householder, Whose patient labour has made room and home And let the light into his dwelling-place ! Now, while he sleeps, it may be, in his stead Garrulous ghosts and fauns infest the gloom And in his name accomplish shameful deeds, Shallow and eloquent sincerities, Profession of all faiths that falsify, And threadbare fashions of a masquerade — While from the teeming dark they snarl and whine, Chatter and roar and laugh, gibber and grin With greedy eyes and fangs — the beasts, the beasts Who harbour where his realm is unreclaimed ! Yet I believe he shall not sleep alway ! Nay, he shall wake and witness — and suspect Himself is otherwise than all of these! O he shall stake his life upon that vision ! And he shall wonderfully at last contrive To bring the outlawed beasts into dominion And hold them captive — having levelled down The dark recesses where they crouched untamed ! He shall dispel the spectres, and return [ 35 ] HERAKLES The jungle to a fruitful harvest-field ! — And then — O then, after the victory, He shall go forth in power and look abroad Over the spacious acres of the soul, All drowned in azure and tranquillity, Where, all bearing his harness and subdued, The mighty beasts labour and drive afar The ploughshare of his will, and spread the seed, And reap the harvest — and proclaim the Lord In word and deed, and celebrate the Lord! Then shall he know the Lord is I ! and feel That ecstasy of knowledge which is truth, Which is religion, which is self and soul ! The voice of IOLAUS calling in the near distance Answer me, Lord ! Where art thou ? Speak to me ! IOLAUS appears. Lord, is it thou ? HERAKLES He said — the Lord is I ! End of the Third Scene. FOURTH SCENE Toward midnight of the same night as in the first three scenes. Street before the house of HERAKLES. MEGARA and the THREE SONS OF HERAKLES are in the house. FOURTH SCENE The voice of MEGARA low and sweet from within the house The rose-wreathed lattice opens wide, Beyond, the night is calm and deep ; — My little doves lie fast asleep Like lilies fallen side by side. They laid them down at evening; Their eyes were clear as moonlit dew ; Across their brows the sunset threw The golden shadow of its wing. HERAKLES and IOLAUS enter slowly. They pause and listen. They kissed my face, with tender words ; Their eyelids closed as flowers close; In dreamless, motionless repose They fell asleep like tired birds. HERAKLES Iolaus IOLAUS Lord? [ 39 ] HERAKLES HERAKLES So Pyrrha in the dark Sang to the children of Deukalion So long as there is life it shall not cease, It shall not change, this tender lullaby, This ancient minstrelsy of motherhood. Wherever there is human happiness Or human grief or life's immortal will, The inviolate serenities of night Shall hear the woman singing to her sons, Her little doves — my children, Iolaus ! Who shall be men, as they shall wake from sleep, Radiant in the morning, and the might Of manhood ! The voice of MEGARA as before My children sleep, whose lives fulfil The souPs tranquillity and trust; While clothed in life's immortal dust The patient earth lies dark and still. No rumour rises from the street; The stars in silence dawn and die ; The moon goes up the violet sky And treads the sea with silver feet; And calm as inward joy, and deep, Moonlight and starlight flood the room [ 40 ] FOURTH SCENE Where close beside me in the gloom Softly my little children sleep. All night they lie against my breast And sleep, whose dream of life begins : Before the time of strife and sins, Of tears and truth, they take their rest. HERAKLES They take their rest ! Iolaus ! Iolaus ! What of the soul ? Can you not feel — as I To-night bore witness to you all — that we, Who seem to wake in the large light of life So sensibly, in pure reality Lie in the shadow of sleep, lie prone and still On the parental breast of life like children, And take our rest ? IOLAUS Yet we have witness, Lord, Who have so wrought in the substantial world, — Yet we have witness that we wake indeed : Is not Erginus slain, Orchomenos Razed and enslaved, and Herakles — HERAKLES Enough ! — *&' Not by the world's coarse manifest I am ! To me no voice but mine can testify : [ 41 ] HERAKLES The violence and the glare of deeds and things Report me in no wise : — myself alone Proves and reveals myself: no other sign Is there at all of me save only I! Have I not ceaselessly been here and there, Come hither and gone hence, ambitiously And humanly lived out my works and days ? Have I not gone abroad seeking the soul In vast and various venture, and returned Weary and without wisdom after all ? When have I known myself, who know the world ? When have I felt, in trial or victory, The choir, the torch, the festival of truth Gladden the soul's inviolate dwelling-place ? Now am I no more eager of many things; Neither am I much curious of proof, Save as some still conviction, secretly Wakes in the inmost mind and justifies New lights, new values, new coherencies, New strengths and virtues up the endless scale. For well I know how anciently and long The massive Sphinx has stood as now it stands, A veiled, portentous shape of shadow and silence, Against the nightfall in the mind's dark highway; And well I know that, anciently as now, To the inscrutable mystery of being There is no voice shall answer save the clear Silences singing in the awakened soul ! [ 42 ] FOURTH SCENE IOLAUS There is no voice shall answer ! Is there more Of man's inheritance than all we know ? Are we not merely men who labour and live In the plain light, in the gross world ; who rest By night; who fall asleep at last in death; Who feel, invincibly, darkly over us, The harsh dominion of the inconstant Gods ? HERAKLES Nay ! We are adepts of a mystery ! The secret is at hand — how shall we sleep ? We are as men in awful expectation Before the threshold of a sanctuary, — Whose eyes grow sometimes clear in the long vigil, Whose hearts grow sometimes mild, till they dis- cern The glamour of a glory on the veil, The murmur of a music thro' the portal — The secret, incommunicable signs Of the God's radiant presence in his house ! The voice 0} MEGARA as before My little doves, the nest is warm — Lie close! the dawn shall come too soon. Sleep, in the quiet of the moon ! Sleep, in the hollow of my arm ! [ 43 ] HERAKLES For yesterday is all we are, To-morrow all we yet shall be; The end is where no eye can see, We only know the way is far ! We only know men grow and grieve And die And death is strange and sore ! O sleep, my darlings, sleep! — before The time returns to wake — to live ! A moment of silence. HERAKLES The ancient, patient, perfect love of women ! The service and the sacrifice of life To life ! But to what end of life ? Her voice Is clear and quiet as moonlit well-water In a vessel of shining silver This is home ! A moment of silence. IOLAUS Let us enter, Lord. HERAKLES I shall not sleep to-night. I know not how it is, there is within me To-night a stern, unquiet intensity, The strangeness of a secret unrevealed — Almost, it seems, a fear of what I am ! I am as some itinerant by night, [ 44 ] FOURTH SCENE Ignorant of his purpose and his path, Curious of both, vigilant, fearful, fain, Sleepless and sightless till the dawn is there! I shall not stay or sleep. No more to me The rash and resolute activities Of manhood sound to-night their martial challenge Into the bright arena of the world. I am this hour inviolably alone, And like a stranger in my solitude A glitter of far lights is in my brain, And in my heart something that is not hope, And in my life a hushed suspense To-night, Beyond the threshold and the fire-light, Beyond the brief, familiar place of being, Held by the narrow candle-flame of life Against the invasive, dark, immense unknown, I am abroad ! The heart's unrest is nameless And absolute the mind's uncertainties ! Ask me not whither, where or why I go : The spacious night surrounds me, and my spirit Ranges magnificently unappeased ! I OLA US Why must you go abroad seeking a dream When here at home all is so bountiful ? Here the King's daughter croons your sons asleep; Here Creon has given over to your hands His kingship by your mighty hands secured ; [ 45 ] HERAKLES Here in all Greece your name is glorious, Your deeds extolled, your worth proclaimed in praise ; Here your estate is grown so high and splendid That hardly can the range of man's ambition Compass a nobler destiny than yours ! HERAKLES So is the range of man's ambition brief And scanted of his true divinity ! IOLAUS Why is your speech so strange to-night ? HERAKLES TisI Am strange! And now I think my heart would break To hear her sing again, to feel once more The tenderness and the tranquillity And sweetness of her love, — the delicate Freshness of life's warm wonder in my house. Come, let us go ! — I shall not rest to-night. IOLAUS Where shall I follow, since you will not sleep ? HERAKLES Let us go down into the human city, Iolaus, where men and women with their sins [ 46 ] FOURTH SCENE Stray in the festive street ; where harp-players And harlots and young men sit in the taverns, And feel, all night until the daybreak stands Pale and relentless in the waking world, Life's wanton weed grow rankly in their souls ! Let us go down into the human city And see how men and women love and live, Whose feet go forward to the sepulchre, Whose hearts are sick with tender syllables Unspoken, and desires unsatisfied, And liberalities no heart receives Let us go down ! — perchance they wait us there, The meaning and the sign ! — let us go down ! End of the Fourth Scene. FIFTH SCENE Before dawn of the next day. A street before a tavern. At in- tervals is heard the sound of music and voices and occa- sional bursts of laughter from within. HERAKLES and IOLAUS enter. FIFTH SCENE IOLAUS Now nothing more is left to seek or see. Let us return. We have been long abroad; We have been up and down the sleepless city And far afield from where is happiness Let us return. HERAKLES Here's still a last, least place Where laughter is, where there is light and wine And song IOLAUS And this is last, of all : beyond, The lampless thoroughfare goes far away Into the darkness, past the city wall. Here we are come to the road's end. The earth Lies out beyond, spacious and tranquil, where The moonlight, like the nimbus that surrounds A sage in meditation, quietly And vastly and serenely luminous, Lies, pale as dreams are pale, over the world! Laughter is heard within the tavern. Then there is a moment of silence. [ 51 ] HERAKLES HERAKLES Hark ! How serene is silence ! How austere !..... How spacious ! And how small and sad a thing Is laughter — and how sometimes terrible ! There is no rumour save the sound of mirth When souls are lost ! I know not how it seems To you, but I believe the Minotaur Kept out of sight and sound like a good fellow, And there was laughter in the labyrinth, And it was pleasant for them who were lost — Lost without hope, nor any vision of hope, Nor any faith to vex them with ambition ! Hark! How they laugh and sing and take no heed, The boys, the panders, and the singing-women, The harlot and her ruffian ! — And ourselves, Iolaus, ourselves, who keep so delicate, Who live so chaste and private — who are we, Who fill with rumour as of a festival The public precincts of the House of Life ? — Who vex the soul with gilt caparisons And go in power and pride and policy, Panders to profit and the world's applause, About the brilliant business of the world ? Are we not of this ribald company, These toilers for the selfsame prize as we, Only of less profession and renown — These merrymakers in the labyrinth, [ 52 ] FIFTH SCENE Who singing sit beside the sallow tapers, Derelict, dispossessed, delinquent, — dead ? Why so we are, by God ! — king, soldier, priest, Cut-purse and prostitute — in fact the same Poor men and women, all of us — so kin, So far adrift, so dark, so solitary ! Then let 's within and claim our fellowship ! They are of us — and they shall not be denied ! IOLAUS Nay, we have seen to-night too much of this. Let us return ! The street and the night end. Let us return — my heart is sick for home ! HERAKLES O we are very far from where is home To that within us which is comfortless — The heart that is not patient of our thrift; The soul that is not pleasured as we are In safe, substantial mediocrity! To-night, in street and tavern, anxiously, Like children fatherless and dispossessed, We were come out to seek our heritage; We were come out to seek for more than all Our lives have variously informed us of, And more than all we know ! — What rest is there, Or where shall we go home, who have not found Ourselves or what is ours ? Whither away [ 53 ] HERAKLES And in what casement stands the lamp for us Who drift as might a helmless derelict, Errant with wind and tide over dark seas ? This shall we hardly learn at last to know ; And hardly shall our hearts receive the sign, Our eyes find fire along the forward way, Till that reprieve of freedom, peace and power When we have saved the grain and strawed the chaff With a most jealous fan throughout the ripe Acreage of the spirit's harvest-field ! Truly I am not now as once I was, Replete, exultant, proved, resistless, proud, When all the Sons of Cadmus hailed me victor ! Rather my joy is quelled of all my deeds; For worth is of myself, and I have none Yet do they rate me by no means, whose choice And crown proclaim me Lord ! It well may be You doubt me. True, I know not what it means — And all is doubt ! Yet there is born within me To-night a sense of outcast solitude, The darkness of a flame-rent thunder-cloud, And peril and devastation in my brain, — While in my heart, like devious, distant fire, The thread of hope leads thro' the labyrinth ! What is the whole of life — when dreams come true ; When faith is realized ; when the mind unlocks The treasure-house of truth ; when, loosed and winged, Ambition ceases of itself to be [ 54 ] FIFTH SCENE So gross, so measured, so commensurate With possible and perishable things ? The voice of the WOMAN singing in the tavern I know not why we drink and feast Unless it be to make us laugh, Who waste the grain and store the chaff, Who starve the God and glut the beast ! Yet know I not how wine can make, Of all sad things, a woman smile; For what is wine to so beguile The heart that bleeds and will not break ? I know but this — we cannot bear The truth that laughter hides so well ! . . . And all the damned dead souls in Hell Scream with eternal laughter there! A rumour of voices in the tavern. IOLAUS Poor wanton wretch ! — God pity her ! HERAKLES Not so ! Bravely she sings her heart out, and in tune, And strictly to the measure of its truth. [ 55 ] HERAKLES She knows the cost of some things — and their worth ! And briefly she has made a song of how Her life is bankrupt for some scraps of tinsel. No God is wise enough to pity her, Nor sad enough! Her tragedy is yours And mine ; — O verily this alone is all Life's tragedy, that in the strict account Of truth we find — whose lives were cheaply sold At the world's price in chaplet, coin or crown — ■ Such meagre profit, such tremendous loss! And be assured it is not pitiable To sing one's heart out, as she sings, of it : Bravely, and not too sadly — and in tune ! The rumour of voices is renewed in the tavern. Then silence. A pause. The voice of the POET singing in the tavern I know not what it is appears To us so worth the tragic task : — I know beneath his ribald masque Man's sightless face is grey with tears ! I know not why it is we dread To lie in death's embrace, alone : — I know that he receives a stone Who asks with all his love for bread ! [ 56 ] FIFTH SCENE I know not how, I know not why We save the hope that naught fulfils : — I know that life constrains and kills The dying soul that will not die ! The rumour of voices breaks out in the tavern, louder than before. HERAKLES Hearken ! and hear the voice of human woe, Crying aloud and crude and comfortless ! Hark, from the cheated and distempered mind, This harsh and ancient outburst of despair Proclaim we are all perdurable men And perjured souls and hearts that still conserve A pitiable efficiency of pain ! Then question of yourself, and you shall find His voice is mine and yours — if we could sing ! In each of us the serpent of despair Sleeps — or is roused and strikes his poisoned fangs Deep in the heart and brain, till one must die, The serpent or the soul, — unless we charm Serpent and soul with song! For song alone Makes tolerable to us the acrid lees, When time and truth have trod life's wine-press out, Which, undiluted, in thought's crystal cup, Are of too cogent anguish to the soul. [ 57 ] HERAKLES He charms who is not strong enough to slay ! He sings who is not brave enough to know, And in himself feel truth exemplified ! Thus, I believe, the tragic poet sings Because he fails to do a better thing : Up from the ruins of his failure starts The phcenix-bird of song : — he knows the while How far aloft God's eagle eyes the sun ! Had we the will, the strength, the hardihood To let the light inform us utterly, And so transfuse and interchange with all Gross elements that we were born again, Perfect and true ; — had we the stern resolve And power and passion of our sacred cause To bear the pangs of childbirth to the end, And die to live ; — in such comparison What were a life's magnificence of song ? God is within the soul — and who has been A little toward Him, sings ! There is no more To do for one who leaves the best undone The poet wakes, indeed, — but merely sings ! Yet therefore is he more than other men ; For they come hardly into wakefulness, And briefly, and in terror and great pain, Soon to relapse, latent and lost in sleep Are we not all, in silence and alone, Sepulchred living under dreams and dust ? And if at last we dreadfully revive, [ 58 ] FIFTH SCENE Straitened and gagged in death's caparisons, Within the unspeakable solitude and dense Silence and brutal blackness of the grave, 'T is but to glimpse the shining star of hope With false persuasion of transcendent joy — And then, as faith's uplifted face dislimns, To die immobile in the narrow night, Our hearts constricted with a frenzied fear Of death's deceit, — with life's supreme appeal ! The poet sings — and lives ! And I believe, Should one audacious rebel — even the soul's Champion — who was not eased with poems, essay His strength against the terror and the tomb, It might be they should wonderfully yield ! Yea ! till he went his way from us, — perchance To prove the Saviour of us, on his way ! A rumour of voices ; then loud applause in the tavern. A chorus of MEN and WOMEN singing in the tavern Dionysos ! God begot thee, woman bore thee, Dionysos ! Now before thee Dance the Msenads who adore thee, Who are of thy fellowship ! Every heart is frenzied for thee, Dionysos ! every lip Glisters with the wine we pour thee, [ 59 ] HERAKLES Crimson as the sacred stain When the sacrifice is slain — Dionysos ! Wild laughter and applause within the tavern. IOLAUS Let us go hence, go hence! Behold, the night Grows pale and passive as a sick man's face At daybreak as he lies asleep. It dawns. The livid light comes down the dreadful street Timidly as a tired vagrant child, And stands between us here before the tavern, Naked and shivering in its threadbare dress. HERAKLES When shall it be that somewhere in the soul, Beyond our life's horizons, dark with dreams, The Child of Light shall rise from sleep and stand Radiantly in the silent place of peace ? When shall it be that he shall venture down The strange, remote, dark thoroughfares of thought, And stand with shining feet before the tavern, Where all night long his servants brawl and feast, In pale and passionless severity ? When shall it be his presence shall eclipse The flickering, brief, clandestine candle-light That lust has kindled in the House of Life ? When shall he enter by the dolorous door [ 60 ] FIFTH SCENE Of love and faith, where death at last comes in, And bind the slaves by his resistless will, Who made his house a place of harlotry And lies and lamentations and vain deeds And vice and violence and vociferation ? When shall he rise from sleep and go abroad ? . . . We know not when — yet surely they shall know Who keep his vigil! And, within that hour. At last the slaves' ignoble revelry, Their spectral humours and hilarities Shall shudder and be still! — and they shall learn How little is the Lord indeed from home! And men shall witness and the Gods shall know That he is risen — the grave and gracious Lord Is risen, and on his way! And they shall see His light go forward, and about his feet The flowers of spiritual trust and truth Wake in the silent meadows deep in dusk Beside the stream-course of the spirit's life! And they shall hear his voice, serene as stars, Strengthen to song, like scattered birds who wake Crying in wet tree-twilights, as with hands Lustrous and loving he dilates the gloom With muffled splendour ; while, superbly winged, The deep-eyed virtues of the soul's perfection Rise like essential perfumes, sweet and strong ! . . . . [ 61 ] HERAKLES The voice of the POET singing in the tavern Her eyes were dark as violet ; Her face was white as sunburnt sand Because we could not understand, Love turned and left us, hand in hand — Her lips surrendered, red and wet ! I saw in the dishevelled dress Only her pale, abandoned loveliness ! The voice 0} the WOMAN singing in the tavern He laid his brows against my breast; He kissed my breast with lips of flame ; His voice made music of my name; And in the sunless house of shame Between his arms he held me pressed ! — He knew not what it was to me, Or what to him, thereafter, love might be ! The voice 0} the POET as before I felt her heart beat hard and high ; I saw her eyes grow blurred and blind ; — There came a mist across my mind Her hair fell round me soft as wind And lustrous as a moonlit sky For pleasure of her was my breath Broken, as one who labours near to death ! . [ 62 ] FIFTH SCENE The voice of the WOMAN as before The desolation ; the despair ; The hope; the love; the will to be Spendthrift of the heart's treasury; The soul's inviolate chastity Were all of me he could not share ! He asked no more of love than this ; He gave no better than a harlot's kiss ! The voice of the POET as before I held her all the dumb night long, And still at daybreak she was there, When, groping thro' the dark, dense air, The dawn's chill fingers touched her bare Pale body, clear and smooth as song ! The stealthy light fell, grey as dust, Silently in the sordid place of lust ! The voice of the WOMAN as before Love cannot enter by the door Where lust comes fierce and florid in ! They play no game that love can win, Who stake the outlawed coins of sin, — Yet love can lose one heart the more ! For truth lies deep beneath the lie; And Death has digged no grave where souls can die ! [ 63 ] HERAKLES The voice of the POET as before And silently I went my way ; The heart within me wailed and wept! I would have kissed her as she slept — And dared not ! Like a thief I crept Scared and alone into the day And Love walked on with bleeding feet, Heart-sick beside me in the dreadful street ! The voice of the WOMAN as before Quenched is the flame in us whereof Love's sacred lamp is lit ; and we Are captives as damned souls must be; And hence from Hell shall none go free Whose lives have lost the key of love ! — Who neither asked nor sought nor knocked, To them alone Truth's treasure-house is locked! A confused tumult of voices in the tavern, which gradu- ally subsides until at last there is silence. IOLAUS On broken heartstrings is their music made ! To hear them laugh and sing I half believe, As you declare, that laughter broke their hearts And they have fashioned of all shattered things The phrase of an incomparable grief, [ 64 ] FIFTH SCENE And called it song — which is indeed a cry Something more strangely sad than any tears. come with me to the still house of joy ! — There is a sorrow in the vacant street, And even the light is like a lamentation He fetuses. HERAKLES neither speaks nor stirs. My heart is sad and strange — let us return ! There is a kind of judgment in the light — Something austere and chaste and pitiless, Dealing impartial justice to us all Let us return — for God's sake let us go ! 1 can no longer bear to hear them sing ! HERAKLES Hark — there is silence ! Hark — and you shall hear, Vast and inviolate, while they seem to sing, The inveterate silence of the sepulchre — Where he is lying inert as dead men lie, Who is the deathless holy spirit of man — Massively overwhelm their melody ! There is a sound, a semblance as of song, A quiver of rhythmic motion in the air But then and still thereafter there is silence, Strictly distinguished to the inward ear. Hark — and your soul shall hear it as I do ! They sing not — neither can they sing at all, Who are as we in bondage to this world ! [ 65 ] HERAKLES Their music is a shallow counterfeit, The unsubstantial echo of a voice; — Not the phrased splendour of essential song Rumoured along the surface of the soul's Deep seas of elemental harmony ! Hearken within yourself! Hearken within, And hear how still, how gaunt and dumb it is ! O there is silence, silence in us all ! We are some handfuls of gross clay assembled, Wherein there is a tremor and a tone, A pitiable vibration which is song As men rate song in their discordant lives And far within is silence ! — Otherwise, Otherwise is the full free voice of man, The one true voice, our own voice ! — when there is No silence by the altar any more; When there, in strength and in tranquillity, The hieratic, consecrated soul Intones its canticle of self-reprieve, And all its powers and liberties proclaim The chaunt of the divine awakening ! The tavern door opens. A little crowd of men and women stumble noisily into the street. Among them are the POET and the WOMAN. They all pause uncertainly, staring vaguely about them. A MAN Here's the damned daylight back again [ 66 ] FIFTH SCENE A HARLOT God's name, How cold it is ! The POET As chill and chaste as death! A MAN Let's go back! There's no hospitality And nothing comfortable in all this world Save, there within, the wine and candle-light. The POET Save drunkenness and dark ! — Is there not death ? Poor ghost ! Poor tomb-dweller ! — Is there not death ? A MAN I would to God there were death — for all poets ! x4nd silence for all singers, save of some Small mirthful songs of bawdry and pleasant things A HARLOT Truth is, Stranger, your songs are keen as pain. A MAN His songs are serious — and most damnable ! Wine brings susceptibility — and dawn 's A desperate hour, when a mere song's grief May tragically rouse the heart to tears And vain misgivings [ 67 ] HERAKLES A HARLOT As for me, I love To weep when there is music. Give me songs Of noble sentiment. Tears ease the heart — A MAN No tearful wench for me, nor tearful song ! Poets and whining women — damn such fools ! Gay hearts, gay women, gay good-fellowship, Wine and gay music — so a man is pleased ! The POET Eyes of the deathless Gods, look down, look down ! Behold this tragic masque of marionettes ! And laugh because we weep, and laugh the more Because we laugh — and lie, and dare not live In the confession of reality ! A MAN Damn you, be silent ! and deliver us Of all your tedious solemnities ! Already you have robbed the night of mirth, And now, despite the wine, nothing is left But daylight and despondency The WOMAN In truth I'll not believe a poet could so far Vex and subdue your wanton hearts with words. [ 68 ] FIFTH SCENE Are you not men of business and affairs, Hard men of worldly practice and the world ? And he 's — merely a voice ! and such a voice As you shall hardly hear or understand ! Nay, lads, I'll not believe you're out of tune With laughter for a song's worth of strange words ! Even a poor wench can laugh ! — The end of mirth Comes only when the cheerless heart is cracked And the frail spark of life flutters and fails ! The POET Comes only when we learn there is more hope Than life can give ; more truth than words can say ! A HARLOT Enough! It's bitter cold here in the dawn, And I'll no longer wait and freeze and tire To hear you snarl and curse at one another ! — Let's all to bed! A MAN The wench is right — let's go ! They all start off and move, in a straggling group, toward HERAKLES and IOLAUS, whose forms are hardly distinguishable in the grey twilight. Sud- denly one of the women halts. A HARLOT There are strangers here — yonder ! [ 69 ] HERAKLES A MAN Two men Calling Who 's there ? HERAKLES takes a step forward. A moment of silence. A MAN Your pardon! If a man may question you, My Lord, and since we chance to meet — who are you ? A moment of silence. HERAKLES scans the faces before him almost anxiously. HERAKLES I am a man who seeks — and has not found ; Who asks — and is not answered ; who has knocked — Yet none has opened to him the secret door. Do you bring news — and welcome — and the alms? The WOMAN separates herself from the group and draws nearer to HERAKLES. A HARLOT What says he ? A MAN I can hardly tell A MAN In some delusion — [ 70 ] He seems FIFTH SCENE The POET Then perhaps he's drunk! — Are we not all at dawn a little drunk ? The WOMAN Be still! The POET What now ? Why do you stare and stare ? I say his wine has been to many a man Persuasion of delirious things and words, And specious dreams of what It 's all about The WOMAN Be still ! Look in his eyes ! The POET to HERAKLES Your pardon, Sir ! The wench has drunk her share — He turns to the WOMAN. The sight of her thrills and startles him. His whole mood and manner change. He draws close to her and speaks to her alone. Tell me the news : Is it the Secret ? — Speak ! The WOMAN speaking as tho' entranced There is within [ 71 ] HERAKLES His eyes a candid infancy of light — A birth of splendour — and a mystery ! A vigil — and a voice ! — the light that leads, Convinces and absolves — like sunlight ! Far, Far in his eyes it dawns ! I seem to see So far within — so far ! His eyes are like Some sudden window, opening in the night Thence may the soul stare skyward — to the stars ! Look in his eyes, if you have will to see ! All other eyes of men are closed and dark. Look in his eyes! — O, God's within, I know! There, in the utmost distance, there is God ! There is the light of God, splendid and strange! HERAKLES with 'passion Are you the herald and the messenger ? The POET Herald of hope and messenger of news!, HERAKLES heedless of all save the WOMAN Is there indeed light in the window — light To prove the Lord is in his house and wakes, Who has slept overlong ? You say the light Is lit, the sign is there to show he wakes At last — and feels across his solemn brows [ ™ ] FIFTH SCENE The rose-winged wind of venture and vast skies, And in the chamber where he darkly slept, Gradual and pale, the calm, sane light of dawn ? . The WOMAN Yours is the sign ! You are the light ! HERAKLES At last! How I have sought you ! O is it you indeed ? And do you bring me news at last and welcome — News of myself and welcome to the Lord ? O can I rest assured that even now The Lord wakes in his chamber silently, And like a stranger and athirst for love, And all aflame to know and to be known ? Know you indeed the Lord ? and is he there, The one true perfect friend, who is most friendless; — The matchless lover, whose love none receives, And who is loved of none ? Look in my eyes ! Tell me the light is there — that I am He ! The WOMAN ... .You are the strength, the light, the life, — the Lord ! What shall I do that I may love you ? The POET Speak! Have you the strength ? Have you the light — the life ? [ 73 ] HERAKLES HERAKLES speaking to the WOMAN alone Only believe and all shall yet be well ! Love and believe ! I have no more than faith To guide me, and no more to comfort me Than love, — and mine is still the greater need ! Mine is the greater need, for mine, at last, Mine is the greater strength! The strength is there — The secret strength I almost fear to feel ! Measureless is the strength and merciless — And like a child whose eyes are vague with sleep, Haunted with dreams and dazed with real light ; — Whose mind, with dark pre-natal memories, Is still perplexed, and hardly yet evolved From ancient error and the brutal grasp Of fear, force, falsehood, destiny, and death; — Who is not yet self -realized, self-assured, Conscious and calm in thought, in aim, in will. Yet, as I must believe, do you believe, And all shall come to pass, and all be well! The WOMAN I love and I believe ! I see the light ; I feel the strength that will not stay or spare ; I know the Lord ; I know that he shall come To bring me the good news ! HERAKLES O be assured [ 1* ] FIFTH SCENE Of victory ! I love you ! I shall come Again to you Be faithful till I come ! A MAN What do they say ? A HARLOT He bids her "Be thou faithful Until I come !" All laugh except HERAKLES, the WOMAN, and the POET, who remain thrilled, startled, and ab- sorbed. The POET I scarce believe — and yet He spoke as one having authority, Having the truth's commandment clear as light And blind as light and undissuadable ; — Being in strength creative as a God ! How shall I know ? The WOMAN conscious only of HERAKLES You will not leave me — now? HERAKLES I leave with you one who is more than I — Even the soul — even the Spirit of Truth ! He shall be with you always to the end, Who is the guide, the way, the comforter ! [ 75 ] HERAKLES I may not rest : I love you and must go. He shall bear witness in my stead. At last I shall return : — and let there be a light, His light undimmed to guide me to his house ! Be faithful — lest he fall again on sleep ! The WOMAN I cannot leave you ! Lord, I will not stay Where you are not! — You are the way, the life; You are the truth! HERAKLES I shall perchance be true At last and perfect ! Now, there is within me Labour and violence, ruin and redemption. My soul is an invaded citadel, A precinct where contending armies wait, Fierce and resolved, — the death-grip is still to- ward ! And if I win at all it shall be hard ! This very hour all is in jeopardy : — The dark whirls in my vision even now ; And like the rumour of resurgent tides I hear the ancient curse of error cry Up well-worn estuaries of the shaken mind ! Suddenly voices are heard crying in the distance, and a confused rumour as of some great commotion in the city. [ 76 ] FIFTH SCENE IOLAUS Lord ! — do you hear ? Some mischief is afoot ! The city cries as with a single voice ! — What can it be ? Some great event has chanced I'll find the cause of this and come again. IOLAUS hastens away. HERAKLES What great event concerns me save the soul ? And none cry in the Agora because The soul of man at last comes to its own ! Again from the city rises a vast rumour of voices. Hark ! In my heart I hear their cries resound ! They are my soldiers and my people ! Hark ! There in this hour my plumed battalions wait Their leader, and my citizens their King. They know not and they will not understand Whither away I am gone on so far Without them, — I, who shall not now return! The die is cast, and, come what may, I take The bounty of ambitious destinies To be my birthright, nor shall Gods or men Force and delude me from my utmost goal ! Again is heard the voice of a distant multitude. The POET How they cry out upon us, — all the world ! [ 77 ] HERAKLES HERAKLES .Crying in vain ! — O let me stay no more ! For still my heart, to hear the voice of the world My world of youth and conquest and renown — Crying upon me, suffers and is not strong, As the great heart of perfect love must be ! O, lest the good great moment, lest the vision, Lest the redemption, now at last begun, Suffer some wrong by reason of the heart's Weakness and all my life's remembered joys, Let me go forth away from them, away From all that was and is, to what shall be — Which, in this primal morning of the soul, Thro' widening gateways of deliverance, With endless promise cheers the forward way! The WOMAN Suffer me, and constrain me not to be Without you ! There is place for me to follow Where you may go HERAKLES There are no followers Nor captains on the soul's eternal quest ! The POET Yet, if the torch go forward in your hand, Shall not its splendour serve to guide us on ? [ 73 ] FIFTH SCENE Well may we question, who have sought so long, Where you will go and whither is the way. HERAKLES Mine is my way and yours must be your own. Ask me no more, nor wonder if my words Are strict and stern — The POET I know the truth is hard, Neither compassionate of any grief Or hope or weakness or imperfect joys. But to that soul which bears the truth, in chief, Truth is relentless ! And I say to you That if you have not now already paid Abundantly the incalculable cost, Then you shall pay even to the uttermost ! HERAKLES What is the price of truth ? The POET What is the truth ? — There is the question ! HERAKLES He shall answer it, And only he who earns the right to say, [ 79 ] HERAKLES "I am the Truth!" — for he alone is true. I stand in the beginning, and the way Is hardly to be seen before my feet, Which they must tread wherever it may go ! . Ask me no questions, therefore, of the end. The WOMAN I am not curious, and I have no thought Of mercy, and I have no other way Than your way, Lord ! HERAKLES O sacred human heart! Come with me if you will, as best you may. You are my witness how the sepulchre Was rent and in his shroud the Sleeper stirred; And how the prison door stood wide ajar While momently, at least, lay out in light The prospect of the soul's prosperities ! — You are my witness, and my heart wills well That you, O Heart of faith ! should share with me Truth's gospel and the soul's new testament ; — Till, at the last, the Sleeper's dreams are done, And he is waked and risen and on his way! IOLAUS appears, coming in great haste. IOLAUS Lord ! Lord ! I bring you news — [ 80 ] FIFTH SCENE HERAKLES Who brings me news Is welcome, if his news be news indeed! — You all who have been with me in this hour, You know how rashly I am hazarded, As yet with no least knowledge of the way, Into the free, far spaces of the soul ! I go because the wind is in my sails — But chartless, helmless, on a shadowed sea; — And haply I shall find the fabulous Fair Paradise of truth, and hand in hand With the grave Gods walk perfectly at last! And haply I may shipwreck on the shores Of circumstance and dark necessities ! Only the strength within me is assured, — The strength of Herakles! All else is doubt And O my spirit is fain of news ! IOLAUS The King Demands your presence in the Agora. A MAN to his companions The King ? He said the King ! A HARLOT in an awed voice What man is this ? [ 81 ] HERAKLES HERAKLES The King ? — No public cares concern me now. What will the King with me ? IOLAUS I know but this: An embassy comes hither from Eurystheus, Sovereign of Argos. Heedless of the King, They will not speak at his command ; instead They say their message is alone for you. HERAKLES Go on before me, I will shortly come; Leave me, for I have need to be alone. The WOMAN Lord HERAKLES For a little, leave me. I will come. This much is certain, that I will be free! And therefore I will come to bid farewell To rank and power and every servitude. I will not heed the cost of what may bring Deliverance. Leave me ! I will shortly come — And find you there where the world waits for me ! After a moment of hesitation they all depart : the POET first, then the WOMAN and IOLAUS ; lastly the little crowd from the tavern. As these last are leaving they pause a moment to look at HERAKLES. [ 82 ] FIFTH SCENE A MAN My Lord, forgive me if F question you — What is your name ? HERAKLES Men call me Herakles. The men and women depart, leaving HERAKLES alone. End of the Fifth Scene. SIXTH SCENE This scene immediately follows the preceding in time. The sun is only just risen. Thebes. Before the house of HERAKLES. MEGARA stands upon the threshold of the open door. SIXTH SCENE MEGARA The golden wings of light beat up the sky ; The stars are set ; the dew-fall and the dawn Are everywhere, quiet as benediction; The earth's fresh perfumes, like an incense, rise Into the windless, universal air; And even the old, blank city ways are still And flushed like pathways in love's paradise It is morning ! — and my lover is not come ! A pause. MEGARA sings. She waited in the bride-chamber; Her face was young and clear as light; Her lips were sensuous and bright ; — The Bridegroom came not unto her. She kept fresh flowers in the room; Her eyes were spacious as the sea; And thro' the open casement she Kept vigil till her Lord should come. She saw the stars go up the sky; The sunlight and the moonlight were [ 87 ] HERAKLES Like crowns and chaplets in her hair ; — She would not break her faith to die. She set a signal in the day; She set a beacon in the night; The guarded flame of love burned white And single in her heart alway. She waited in the bride-chamber : Her hair was soft as sleep; her breast Was tranquil, like a place of rest The Bridegroom came not unto her. "His heart," she said, "is here at home; " His love, I know, abides with me ; " And he would choose his bride to be "Prepared and perfect should he come." She waited in the lonely years ; The bride-chamber was all her room ; She dreamed not of another doom; She had no thought or time for tears. And when the Bridegroom came at last And found his Bride serene and strong, He said, "Beloved, I tarried long, " But now despair and doubt are passed." f 88 ] SIXTH SCENE She said, " I know not what you mean ; " I have no part with suffering " Or grief or fear ; a better thing " Life cannot be than mine has been ! " For I have lived with Truth and Love, " And all my life was beautiful "And strong and fortunate and full " And great and good and glad thereof ! " A pause. Friendless he seemed — inimical and strange And splendid, when his angered strength cast down The diadem and scorned the pride of kings ! Yet wherefore were his rapture and his rage ? Why was he so tremendous and estranged And resolute last night against us all ? Where is he now — and when shall he return My heart is like a place of desolation, And like a lost child in a woful place; The jealous depths of love are calm no more, After last night, but shaken and dismayed I would to God he were come home to me ! She pauses to gaze about her and then returns slowly into the house. A moment after, HERAKLES appears. HERAKLES O bland and tranquil human habitation, [ 89 ] HERAKLES Fortunate house of happiness and love, Where love is life and life is love, where truth Is very tender and exquisite as song, And where the meaning of the Mystery Is simply and ineffably revealed! — treasure-house of kind and serious joys, Hushed, holy house of peace, my house, my home ! — 1 know not in my heart what nameless fear Afflicts me as mine eyes behold you now ! Is it perhaps the dread that hence from you Lies the new promise of the forward way, And hence the issue, and the sunrise hence? Yet, in the clear accounting of all things, I have no guess what voyage of the soul Could take me hence from you, O tranquil house! — O mother of my children, O my sons, — My little sons, so fair and young, — from you ! Is not the best of being here at home ? — The candour and the loveliness of life; Beauty and innocence of days; and all The wise, warm, ancient virtues of the heart, And all the peace of the prodigious soul ? O Well-beloved, the whole heart's yield of flowers Perfumes the quiet chambers where you sleep! My love is with you, and my dearest thought Is of you, and where you are there am I In spirit and in love ! I will not fear ! This is the loveliest and most bountiful [ 90 ] SIXTH SCENE Of all good fortune of man's mortal life : Surely it shall not for the truth's sake pass Out of the sum of real prosperities ! Rather my loved ones and my love shall share, Always with me and to whatever end, The days and ways of the enfranchised soul ! A moment's pause. Then he calls: Megara ! MEGARA appears in the doorway. MEGARA Herakles!— at last! at last! She runs forward to greet him. My love — my dear, dear love — at last come home ! HERAKLES Is not my whole heart always here at home ? MEGARA O welcome, welcome ! — As it was with me When I first loved you, so it is to-day ! You come to me as after many days, After long, anxious, heart-sick days of doubt . . My heart was like a house of mourning : now There is rejoicing and the sound of song, The light of festival ! — The Well-beloved Returns at last, the Bridegroom is at hand ! [ 91 ] HERAKLES HERAKLES O come into my arms ! I seem to feel Beat in your breast the strong and simple heart, The faithful and inveterate heart of life, Which animates with the bright blood of being The diverse fruit of earth's vast pregnancies! They embrace. A slight pause. Where are my sons ? MEGARA They hardly wake from sleep. One called you in the night, speaking your name. HERAKLES My children ! And my Love ! O Megara, Say that you love me always to the end I MEGARA I love you to whatever end may come, Ever and always and without reprieve ! HERAKLES Then, and in silence, hear me to the last. I know how little truth is speakable; And I shall hardly find, for all my pains, Language sufficient to express the soul ; — Yet it may be your love shall understand ! — Last night you saw me and you heard me speak. [ 92 ] SIXTH SCENE Wonder no more because I cast away The crown ! — for even last night I was assured That in the compass of the soul's ambition, In the resources of man's utmost strength, In the dim, secret treasure-house of thought, There were perfections more supreme, desires More absolute, achievements more divine, Than any that the world is witness of ! Then did I blindly wreak my inmost will, And had no understanding of my deeds. But in the dawn, — O, in the morning, — then I found the very truth, as in a vision ! — The light ! — and I was plainly justified, And perfectly ; for this is truth's first lesson, And easiest, and least of price, — that all Business and pleasure and preferment, fame And government and grandeurs of this world Are but the toys with which the mind of man Beguiles the leisures of its infancy. Who knows the mind's austere maturities, The heart's full-grown intensities; — who sees The treasures of the Spirit, fabulous Beyond imagination; — I believe Naught else, to him, is profitable at all — No triumphs, glories, kingdoms, amplitudes Of fortune, pleasures, majesties, dominions ! I am but newly waked into the light ; My way begins, — my way, my hope, my hazard. [ 93 ] HERAKLES For truly I have found myself at last, And in myself a promise more supreme And an inheritance more bountiful Than thought can understand or faith believe ! . , Self-mastered to some purpose more than mine, In the first morning, with the soul's first-fruits I come to you! — O brave wise heart of love, Surely you shall not fear to share with me The best, hereafter, and the best alone : Love, labour, and the fierce incertitudes! MEGARA Hardly I guess the meaning of your words. And well it may be that in spite of all I shall not understand even at last Yet take me — keep me — lead me to your light ! My sons and you and I, — we are one life, One love, one being, — naught shall make us twain! HERAKLES I also know not what my words may mean . I know not what the price of truth may be, Or what the cost of man's perfection is To man, or how the soul is satisfied. I know but this : that ever and evermore I shall not rest! O it may come to pass That if you love me you shall die of it — As who shall not before the Journey's end ? [ 94 ] SIXTH SCENE For thus we die to live perpetually ! And even it well may be, for all I know, That only in exceeding bitter sorrow Are we so slain and sacrificed and saved ! — That all with heavy labour and cruel cost The soul must reap in life's neglected fields The living bread, and in untended vineyards Press from ripe fruit the consecrated wine, Which are its livelihood. Who knows how hard The truth's divine imperatives shall prove ? Courage, strong heart ! Be sure there is no more That must be done than man at best can do ! And if you find yourself, as well you may, Best in the strong sublimity of love, — O then come with me to the perfect end! MEGARA What have I else in all my life to do ? — Your spirit is my strength, your heart my refuge ! HERAKLES Megara ! O it may be we shall win, And come into the heritage ! At least We shall go on in the fair-way till death, Serious and stedf ast and supremely one ! The SONS OF HERAKLES appear in the doorway of the house. [ 95 ] HERAKLES MEGARA In the fair-way till death ! HERAKLES My Love ! He perceives his children, who issue from the doorway. My sons! HERAKLES tenderly embraces the children, A MESSENGER appears. The MESSENGER Herakles ! — Lord ! — The envoys of Eurystheus, Sovereign of Argos, stand before the King — HERAKLES Why are you come to me ? The MESSENGER They will not speak Their master's message save alone to you. Therefore the summons of the King is sent To bid you straightway to the Agora. HERAKLES The Agora ! Liberty is beyond ! Thro' and beyond my path of freedom leads. [ 96 ] SIXTH SCENE He turns to MEGARA and the children. Come, Well-beloved — let us go down together. For they must take farewell of the rank world Who walk their own ways into Paradise ! End of the Sixth Scene. SEVENTH SCENE Early morning. The beginning of this scene and the preceding scene are contemporaneous. Thebes. The Agora. In the Agora are CREON and ALCMENA, seated and sur- rounded by a body of soldiers. Immediately before the King stands AMPHITRYON; at some distance beyond stand the MESSENGERS OF EURYSTHEUS, three in number. The rest of the Agora is filled by a vast concourse of people. SEVENTH SCENE AMPHITRYON JXJMLJTX1.1. J. IX J. KJ±y They come safe-guarded as Ambassadors, As envoys of Eurystheus — to my son. ALCMENA To Herakles, AMPHITRYON With insolence and pride They dare recall our kinship and proclaim Herakles subject of the Argive King; Yet sworn to silence save to him they seek, By no persuasions will their lips disclose The serious purpose of their embassage. AMPHITRYON seats himself beside the King. CREON These are strange tidings; and the veil that masques The face of destiny seems dark indeed AMPHITRYON I fear their silence and their proud reserve. What can their message be to Herakles ? [ 101 1 HERAKLES CREON What to their message shall your son reply ? Not in the vulgar press of circumstance Is fate concealed, but in the soul of man ! And we have seen, last night, into the soul Of Herakles enough, at least, to make The question poignant and the doubt supreme ! ALCMENA Last night ! I thought a stranger stood before me Clothed in the likeness of my son To-day I dare not guess what dark catastrophe The Gods prepare to try his secret strength, To thwart his undivined, misguided will ! CREON I fear no secret message, nor the stroke Of adverse fortune, nor the coward heart Or evil purpose of Eurystheus' hate, Nor dark catastrophe; — I fear the man Who struck the crown of kingship from his brows And gave us earnest of the soul's ambition ! Man fashions fate after his own design ; And in his likeness, as a mirror is, The face of life is featured and expressed ; And he deciphers on a vacant page His sense, his story, his significance. Who can predict what Herakles shall see [ 102 ] SEVENTi5CS