MESSENGER.
My Lord, I am a messenger from Antioch, Sent here by Lysias.
ANTIOCHUS.
A strange foreboding Of something evil overshadows me.
I am no reader of the Jewish Scriptures;
I know not Hebrew; but my High-Priest Jason, As I remember, told me of a Prophet Who saw a little cloud rise from the sea Like a man's hand and soon the heaven was black With clouds and rain.Here, Philip, read; I cannot;I see that cloud.It makes the letters dim Before mine eyes.
PHILIP (reading).
"To King Antiochus, The God, Epiphanes."ANTIOCHUS.
O mockery!
Even Lysias laughs at me!--Go on, go on.
PHILIP (reading).
"We pray thee hasten thy return.The realm Is falling from thee.Since thou hast gone from us The victories of Judas Maccabaeus Form all our annals.First he overthrew Thy forces at Beth-horon, and passed on, And took Jerusalem, the Holy City.
And then Emmaus fell; and then Bethsura;
Ephron and all the towns of Galaad, And Maccabaeus marched to Carnion."ANTIOCHUS.
Enough, enough! Go call my chariot-men;
We will drive forward, forward, without ceasing, Until we come to Antioch.My captains, My Lysias, Gorgias, Seron, and Nicanor, Are babes in battle, and this dreadful Jew Will rob me of my kingdom and my crown.
My elephants shall trample him to dust;
I will wipe out his nation, and will make Jerusalem a common burying-place, And every home within its walls a tomb!
(Throws up his hands, and sinks into the arms of attendants, who lay him upon a bank.)PHILIP.
Antiochus! Antiochus! Alas, The King is ill! What is it, O my Lord?
ANTIOCHUS.
Nothing.A sudden and sharp spasm of pain, As if the lightning struck me, or the knife Of an assassin smote me to the heart.
'T is passed, even as it came.Let us set forward.
PHILIP.
See that the chariots be in readiness We will depart forthwith.
ANTIOCHUS.
A moment more.
I cannot stand.I am become at once Weak as an infant.Ye will have to lead me.
Jove, or Jehovah, or whatever name Thou wouldst be named,--it is alike to me,--If I knew how to pray, I would entreat To live a little longer.
PHILIP.
O my Lord, Thou shalt not die; we will not let thee die!
ANTIOCHUS.
How canst thou help it, Philip? O the pain!
Stab after stab.Thou hast no shield against This unseen weapon.God of Israel, Since all the other gods abandon me, Help me.I will release the Holy City.
Garnish with goodly gifts the Holy Temple.
Thy people, whom I judged to be unworthy To be so much as buried, shall be equal Unto the citizens of Antioch.
I will become a Jew, and will declare Through all the world that is inhabited The power of God!
PHILIP.
He faints.It is like death.
Bring here the royal litter.We will bear him In to the camp, while yet he lives.
ANTIOCHUS.
O Philip, Into what tribulation am I come!
Alas! I now remember all the evil That I have done the Jews; and for this cause These troubles are upon me, and behold I perish through great grief in a strange land.
PHILIP.
Antiochus! my King!
ANTIOCHUS.
Nay, King no longer.
Take thou my royal robes, my signet-ring, My crown and sceptre, and deliver them Unto my son, Antiochus Eupator;And unto the good Jews, my citizens, In all my towns, say that their dying monarch Wisheth them joy, prosperity, and health.
I who, puffed up with pride and arrogance, Thought all the kingdoms of the earth mine own, If I would but outstretch my hand and take them, Meet face to face a greater potentate, King Death--Epiphanes--the Illustrious!
[Dies.
*****
MICHAEL ANGELO
Michel, piu che mortal, Angel divino.-- ARIOSTO.
Similamente operando all' artista ch' a l'abito dell' arte e man che trema.-- DANTE, Par.xiii., st.77.
DEDICATION.
Nothing that is shall perish utterly, But perish only to revive again In other forms, as clouds restore in rain The exhalations of the land and sea.
Men build their houses from the masonry Of ruined tombs; the passion and the pain Of hearts, that long have ceased to beat, remain To throb in hearts that are, or are to be.
So from old chronicles, where sleep in dust Names that once filled the world with trumpet tones, I build this verse; and flowers of song have thrust Their roots among the loose disjointed stones, Which to this end I fashion as I must.
Quickened are they that touch the Prophet's bones.
PART FIRST.
I.
PROLOGUE AT ISCHIA
The Castle Terrace.VITTORIA COLONNA, and JULIA GONZAGA.
VITTORIA.
Will you then leave me, Julia, and so soon, To pace alone this terrace like a ghost?
JULIA.
To-morrow, dearest.
VITTORIA.
Do not say to-morrow.
A whole month of to-morrows were too soon.
You must not go.You are a part of me.
JULIA.
I must return to Fondi.
VITTORIA.
The old castle Needs not your presence.No one waits for you.
Stay one day longer with me.They who go Feel not the pain of parting; it is they Who stay behind that suffer.I was thinking But yesterday how like and how unlike Have been, and are, our destinies.Your husband, The good Vespasian, an old man, who seemed A father to you rather than a husband, Died in your arms; but mine, in all the flower And promise of his youth, was taken from me As by a rushing wind.The breath of battle Breathed on him, and I saw his face no more, Save as in dreams it haunts me.As our love Was for these men, so is our sorrow for them.
Yours a child's sorrow, smiling through its tears;But mine the grief of an impassioned woman, Who drank her life up in one draught of love.
JULIA.
Behold this locket.This is the white hair Of my Vespasian.This is the flower-of-love, This amaranth, and beneath it the device Non moritura.Thus my heart remains True to his memory; and the ancient castle, Where we have lived together, where he died, Is dear to me as Ischia is to you.
VITTORIA.
I did not mean to chide you.
JULIA.
