SCENE I. Outside LAMACHUS’S palace.

MEGACLES, LYSIMACHUS, Courtiers, and Citizens of Cherson.

Meg. Oh, this has been a happy day. All has gone admirably. Not a hitch in all the arrangements. Precedence kept, rank observed, dresses all they should be. I do not, I really do not think, though I say it who should not, that the Imperial Chamberlain at Constantinople could have conducted the matter better.

1st Court. Nay, that he could not, good Megacles. Let us hope that what remains to do will go as smoothly.

Meg. What remains? Doubtless you mean the banquet. That is all arranged long ago under three heads. First, the order of entering the hall; second, the order of the seats; third, the order of going forth.

Lys. Doubtless the last will arrange itself. Remember, the only order of going to be observed is this, that thou get thyself gone, and all the guests from Cherson gone, fully half an hour before midnight.

Meg. But, my lord, that is impossible; you ask too much. How long do you suppose it will take, at a moderate computation, to get one hundred men of ill-defined rank out of a room with a decent regard for Precedence. Why, I have seen it take an hour at the Palace, where everybody knew his place, and here I cannot undertake to do it under two.

Lys. My friend, you will get it done; you will waive ceremony. None but the Prince and ourselves must remain within half an hour of midnight, and the hall must be cleared.

Meg. Ah, well, my Lord Lysimachus, the responsibility rests with you; I will have none of it. It is as much as my reputation is worth. But if I do this, cannot you let me have a guard of honour of armed men to stand at intervals along the hall. I have been longing for them all day.

Lys. (angrily). Peace, fool! I have told you before we have no soldiers here.

[People of Cherson overhearing him.

1st Cit. Didst hear that old man? He believes there are soldiers here. Whence do they come? and why did the other check him?

Meg. Well, my Lord Lysimachus, if not soldiers, men-at-arms, and these there certainly are, and highly decorative too.

2nd Cit. I hate these Bosphorians. What if the rumour should be true? Pass the word to the citizens that they sleep not to-night, but keep their arms ready for what may come. We are a match for them, whatever may be their design. To-morrow we will probe this matter to its depths.

2nd Court. Depend upon it, there is no time to lose if we would forestall these fellows. But here comes the procession to the banqueting-hall.

[Citizens going to banquet two and two.

Meg. (with a gold wand). This way, gentlemen; this way, masters and mistresses; this way, Respectables!

[Accompanies them to the end of the stage towards the banqueting-hall in the distance. Returns to escort another party. Musicians, etc.

Enter Senators, two and two.

Meg. (bowing profoundly three times). Most Illustrious Senators! this way, your Highnesses; this way.

Enter MELISSA and other Ladies.

(To MELISSA) Fairest and loveliest of your adorable sex, your slave prostrates himself before your stainless and beatific feet (bowing low and kissing his fingers). Illustrious Ladies, I pray you to advance.

Lys. (with Courtiers standing apart). A good appetite, my friends. Enjoy yourselves while you may.

Bard. We are quite ready, my Lord Lysimachus. Are you not (with a sneer) for the banquet?

Lys. In good time, in good time. If they only knew.

[Aside.

Bard. (overhearing). If you knew all, my friends.

Meg. (returning). I pray you, most Illustrious Senators, to excuse the absence of a guard of honour.

Bard. Nay, nay; we are peaceful people, and have no armed men nearer than Bosphorus, as my Lord Lysimachus knows. There are plenty in that favoured State, no doubt.

Lys. (confused). What does this insolence mean? I would the hour were come.

Enter ZETHO, with his retinue.

Meg. Your Gravity, Your Sincerity, Your Sublime and Wonderful Magnitude, Your Illustrious and Magnificent Highness, I prostrate myself before Your Altitude. Will You deign to walk this way?

Zetho. My lord, I am no Cæsar, but a simple citizen of Cherson, called by my fellows to preside over the State. Use not to me these terms, I pray of you, but lead on quickly.

Meg. I prostrate myself before Your Eminence.

Enter ASANDER and GYCIA.

Meg. (returning). Noble Prince, will your Illustrious Consort and yourself deign to follow me?

Asan. Nay, good Megacles, will you and these gentlemen go first? I have a word to say to the Lady Gycia. We will be with you before the guests are seated.

Meg. I obey, my Lord Asander, and will await you at the door.

[MEGACLES, LYSIMACHUS, and the rest, pass on.

Asan. Gycia, though we have passed from amity And all our former love, yet would I pray you, By our sweet years of wedded happiness, Give ear to me a moment. It may be That some great shock may come to set our lives For evermore apart.

Gycia. Ah yes, Asander
For evermore apart!

Asan. And I would fain, If it must be, that thou shouldst know to-night That never any woman on the earth Held me one moment in the toils of love Except my wife.

Gycia. What! not Irene’s self?

Asan. Never, I swear by Heaven. She was a woman In whom a hopeless passion burnt the springs Of maiden modesty. I never gave her The solace of a smile.

Gycia. Dost thou say this?
Is thy soul free from all offence with her,
If thou camest now to judgment?

Asan. Ay, indeed,
Free as a child’s.

Gycia. Oh, my own love! my dear!
Ah no! too late, too late!

[Embraces him.

Asan. I ask thee not
Counter assurance, since I know thy truth.

Gycia. Speakst thou of Theodorus? He loved me Before I knew thee, but I loved no man Before I met Asander. When he knelt That day, it was in pity for my grief, Thinking thee false, and all his buried love Burst into passionate words, which on the instant I as thy wife repelled.

Asan. Oh, perfect woman!

[They embrace.

O God, it is too late! Come, let us go;
The guests are waiting for us. What can Fate
Devise to vanquish Love.

[Exeunt.

Enter two drunken Labourers of Cherson, bearing faggots and
straw.

1st Lab. Well, friend, what kind of day has it been with you?

2nd Lab. Oh, a white day, a happy day! Plenty of food, plenty of wine, raree shows without end, such processions as were never seen the very model of a democracy; nothing to pay, and everybody made happy at the expense of the State. I have lived in Cherson, man and boy, for fifty years, and I never saw anything to compare with it. Here’s good luck to Lamachus’s memory, say I, and I should like to celebrate his lamented decease as often as his daughter likes.

1st Lab. Didst know him, citizen?

2nd Lab. No, not I. He has been dead these two years. Time he was forgotten, I should think. They don’t commemorate poor folk with all these fal-lals and follies.

1st Lab. Well, citizen, there is one comfort the great people don’t enjoy themselves as we do. Did you ever see such a set of melancholy, frowning, anxious faces as the grandees carried with them to-day? And as for the Prince and the Lady Gycia, I don’t believe they spoke a word the livelong day, though they walked together. That is the way with these grandees. When you and I quarrel with our wives, it is hammer and tongs for five minutes, and then kiss and make friends.

2nd Lab. And fancy being drilled by that old fool from Bosphorus “Most Illustrious, this is your proper place;” “Respectable sir, get you back there” (mimics MEGACLES), and so forth.

1st Lab. Well, well, it is good to be content. But I warrant we are the only two unhappy creatures in Cherson to-night, who have the ill fortune to be sober. And such wine too, and nothing to pay!

2nd Lab. Never mind, citizen, we shall be paid in meal or malt, I dare say, and we are bound to keep sober. By the way, it is a curiously contrived bonfire this.

1st Lab. It will be the crowning triumph of the whole festival, the senator said.

2nd Lab. But who ever heard of a bonfire on a large scale like this, so close to an old building? You know our orders: we are to place lines of faggots and straw close to the building on every side, well soaked with oil, and certain sealed vessels full of a secret compound in the midst of them. And just before midnight we are to run with torches and set light to the whole bonfire, to amuse the noble guests at the banquet.

[IRENE at a window, overhearing.

1st Lab. Ah! do you not see? It is a device of the Senate to startle our friends from Bosphorus. The faggots and straw blaze up fiercely round the wall; then, when all is confusion, the substance in the sealed vessels escapes and at once puts out the fire, and the laugh is with us. Our friends from Bosphorus know what we can do in chemistry before now.

2nd Lab. Faith, a right merry device! Ha! ha! What a head thou hast, citizen! Well, we must go on with our work. Lay the faggots evenly.

Ire. (at the window above). Great God! what is this? We are doomed to die! Good friends, Know you my brother, the Lord Theodorus? I have something urgent I would say to him. I will write it down, and you shall give it him When he comes forth from the banquet.

[Disappears.

1st Lab. Good my lady. Her brother, too, she calls him. I go bail it is her lover, and this is an assignation. Well, well, we poor men must not be too particular.

2nd Lab. No, indeed; but let us get on with our work, or we shall never finish in time.

Ire. (reappearing). Here it is. Give it him, I pray,
when he comes forth.
’Tis a thing of life and death.

1st Lab. So they all think,
Poor love-sick fools!

Ire. See, here is gold for you
’Tis all I have; but he will double it,
If you fail not.

1st Lab. Lady, we shall be here,
We must be here. Fear not, we shall not miss him.

SCENE II. The banquet hall.

At a table, on a dais, ZETHO, ASANDER, GYCIA, and Senators; LYSIMACHUS, and Courtiers of Bosphorus. Magnates of Cherson at cross tables. ASANDER, LYSIMACHUS, the Courtiers, and Senators seem flushed with wine.

Zetho. I drink to him whose gracious memory We celebrate to-day. In all our Cherson, Which boasts descent from the Athenian race, Who one time swayed the world, there was no man, Nor ever had been, fired with deeper love Of this our city, or more heartfelt pride In our republican rule (LYSIMACHUS sneers), which free-born men Prize more than life. I do not seek to bind Those who, long nurtured under kingly rule, Give to the Man the love we bear the State; But never shall the name of King be heard In this our Cherson.

Lys. Archon, ’twere unwise
To risk long prophecies.

Bard. Be silent, sir,
If you would not offend.

Zetho. I bid you all
Drink to the memory of Lamachus
And weal to our Republic.

Lys. Shall we drink
Its memory, for it has not long to live,
If it be still alive?

Bard. It will outlive thee.
Thou hast not long to live.

Lys. Longer than thou,
If swords be sharp.

Zetho. I pray you, gentlemen,
Bandy not angry words.

Gycia. My Lord Asander,
Thy cup is empty. Shall I fill it for thee?
Thou lovedst Lamachus?

Asan. Ay, that I did;
And I love thee. But I have drunk enough.
I must keep cool to-night.

Gycia. Nay; see, I fill
My glass to drink with thee.

Asan. Well, well, I drink,
But not to the Republic.

Gycia. Ah! my lord, There is a gulf still yawns ’twixt thee and me Which not the rapture of recovered love Can ever wholly bridge. To my dead father I drink, and the Republic!

Lys. Which is dead.

Bard. Nay, sir, but living, and shall live when thou
Liest rotting with thy schemes.

Enter MEGACLES.

Meg. My Lord Asander,
A messenger from Bosphorus, just landed,
Has bid me give thee this.

[Gives ASANDER letter.

Asan. (reading) “My Lord, the King Is dead, asking for thee.” Oh, wretched day! Had I but gone to him, and left this place Of sorrow ere he died!

Gycia. My love, my dear! Thou wilt go hence too late. I would indeed The law had let thee go. Sorrow like this Draws parted lives in one, and knits anew The rents which time has made.

Lys. The King is dead!
Ay, then long live the King of Bosphorus!
And more ere long!

Bard. Think you that he will live
To wear his crown?

Zetho. Brethren, the hour is late, And draws to midnight, and ’tis time that all Should rest for whom rest is. (To BARDANES aside) We must consider What change of policy this weighty change Which makes Asander King may work in us.

Bard. (aside). Nay, nay, no change! He is a murderer still,
And shall be punished were he thrice a king.

Asan. Good night to all. And thou, good Megacles,
Thou wert my father’s servant, take thy rest.
Go hence with these.

Meg. I have no heart to marshal
These dignitaries forth. My King is dead;
I am growing old and spent.

Zetho. Daughter, remember
Thy duty to the State.

Gycia. I will, good Zetho.
I am my father’s daughter. Gentle Sirs
And Ladies all, good night.

[Exeunt omnes except ASANDER and GYCIA; LYSIMACHUS and
Courtiers by one door, then the Chersonites by another
opposite.

Asan. Dearest of women, How well this fair head will become a crown! I know not how it is, but now this blow Has fallen, it does not move me as I thought. I am as those who come in tottering age Even to life’s verge, whom loss of friend or child Touches not deeply, since the dead they love Precede them but a stage upon the road Which they shall tread to-morrow. Yet am I Young, and thou too, my Gycia; we should walk The path of life together many years, But that some strange foreboding troubles me. For oh, my dear! now that the sun of love Beams on our days again, my worthless life Grows precious, and I tremble like a coward At dangers I despised. Tell me, my Gycia, Though I am true in love, wouldst thou forgive me If I were false or seemed false to thy State? Hast thou no word for me? May I not tell thee My secret, which so soon all men shall know, And ask thy pardon for it?

Gycia. Say on, Asander.

Asan. Know, then, that soldiers sent from Bosphorus Have long time hid within our palace here Long time before I knew, or I had nipt The treason in the bud; and in an hour Or less from when we speak, they will go forth, When all the citizens are wrapt in sleep After the toilsome day, and seize the gate, And open to the army which lies hid On board the ships without. They will not shed The blood of any, since the o’erwhelming force Will make resistance vain. I never liked The plot, I swear to thee; but, all being done, And I a subject, dared not disavow That which was done without me. But I have forced A promise that no blood be spilt.

Gycia. Asander,
I have known it all, and have discovered all

[ASANDER starts.

Thy secret to the Senate! But I knew not,
Save by the faith that is the twin with love,
That thou didst follow only in this plot,
And wert unwilling; and I do rejoice
Thy hands are free from blood. But oh, my love,
Break from these hateful men! Thou art now a King,
Thou canst command. Come, let us fly together;
There yet is time! I tell thee that this plot
Is doomed to ruin. Ere the morning dawns,
All but the guilty leaders will be sent
Prisoners to Bosphorus, and thou with them.
I have gained this on my knees; but for the guilty
The State has punishments.

Asan. Gycia, thou wouldst not That I should break my faith? ’Tis a King’s part To keep faith, though he die. But when they have seized The city, then, using my kingly office, I will undo the deed, and make alliance With Cherson, and this done I will depart, Taking my Queen with me.

Gycia. Then must I go;
I cannot live without thee.

Asan. Now to rest,
If not to sleep.

Gycia. Good night, my love; farewell.

Asan. Nay, not farewell, my love!

Gycia. Ah yes, farewell!
Farewell! farewell for ever!

[Exeunt.

SCENE III. Outside the banquet hall. Darkness.

GYCIA hurriedly descends the steps, closing the great doors of the
banquet hall softly.

Gycia. I hear no sound within; the lights are gone, And all the hall is dark. These doors alone Of all the many outlets of the palace Remain unlocked. There is not now a moment To lose ere midnight comes, and here I hold The safety of our Cherson. Oh, my love! I could not tell thee all, nor recompense Thy faith in me, since duty held me fast My duty which should also prove thy safety, For now the solemn promise of the State Is pledged to hold thee harmless, and defeat The shameful plot I knew was never thine, Without one drop of bloodshed. All my path Shows clear as noonday, and I save our city And those who with thee err in innocence, Why do I hesitate? Yet does some dark And dreadful presage of impending ill So haunt me that I know not how to face it. I dare not do it. I must stay with him, Or bring him forth with me.

[Ascends the steps, throws open the doors, and finds all
darkness and silence.

Asander! husband!
It is thy wife who calls! Come forth, Asander!

[Listens.

Nay, there is no one there. I cannot stay;
This is mere folly. I must keep my word;
There’s not a moment’s time, or all is lost.
Which is the key?

[Closes the doors and locks them with a clang.

I must go forth alone
To the Senate-chamber. I have saved our Cherson
And my Asander!

[Totters down the steps and exit hurriedly.

SCENE IV. The Senate-chamber.

ZETHO and Senators; afterwards GYCIA.

Zetho. What is the hour?

Bardanes. It wants five minutes only
To midnight. Think you she will come?

Zetho. I know her.
She is the soul of honour, and would keep
Her word if ’twere her death.

Bard. But would she keep it
If ’twere her lover’s?

Zetho. She thinks not that it is,
Nor should it be, indeed, were we but true
As I believe her.

Bard. True! There is no truth In keeping faith with murderers; they must perish In the same net which they laid privily Against a faithful city.

Enter GYCIA, tottering in, with the keys.

Zetho. Hail, noble daughter! Thou hast saved the State.
I knew thou wouldst not fail us.

Gycia. See, good Zetho, The proof that I have done my part to you. There are the master keys of all the doors Within the palace. When I closed the last, A few brief minutes since, there was no sound Nor light in hall or chamber; every court Was silent as the grave.

Bard. Ay, as the grave
It is, or will be soon.

Gycia. What mean you, sir, I pray you? I am but a timid woman, Full of foreboding fears and dread of ill, And such a doubt doth overspread my soul, Hearing thy words, I think I shall go mad. Nay, Zetho, he is safe; I have your promise Thou wouldst not harm him. An o’erwhelming force, Thou saidst, should so surround them that resistance Were vain, and ere the dawn they should go hence Without one drop of bloodshed.

Zetho. Ay, my daughter,
Such was the promise.

Bard. And it will be kept.

[Bell strikes midnight.

Hark, ’tis the hour! An overwhelming force

[A red glare rising higher and higher is seen through the
windows of the Senate-chamber. Confused noises and shouts heard
without.

Surrounds them, but no drop of blood is shed.
All will go hence ere dawn.

Gycia. Oh, cruel man,
And most perfidious world! Oh, my Asander!
To die thus and through me!

[A violent knocking is heard at the door.

Enter THEODORUS in great agitation, and IRENE, who throws
herself on her knees, weeping. GYCIA falls swooning in Zetho’s
arms.

Zetho. Whence cam’st thou, Theodorus?

Theo. Straight, my lord,
From Gycia’s palace.

Zetho. Say, what didst thou there?
And what of horror has befallen thee
That makes thine eyes stare thus?

Theo. Most noble Zetho, When from the banquet scarce an hour ago I passed, came one who offered me a letter And bade me read. ’Twas from this woman here, My sister, and it told of some great peril By fire, which she, within the prison locked, Expected with the night. Wherefore I sped With one I trusted, and did set a ladder Against her casement, calling her by name, And bidding her descend. But no voice came, And all was dark and silent as the grave; And when I called again, the Prince Asander, From an adjacent casement looking, cried, “I had forgot thy sister. Take her hence; She should go free!” And then, at her own casement

[GYCIA revives and listens.

Appearing, he came forth, and in his arms
A woman’s senseless form. As they descended
And now were in mid-air, there came the sound
Of the bell striking midnight, and forthwith
In a moment, like a serpent winged with fire,
There rose from wall to wall a sheet of flame,
Which in one instant mounted to the roof
With forked red tongues. Then every casement teemed
With strange armed men, who leapt into the flames
And perished. Those who, maimed and burnt, escaped,
Ere they could gain their feet, a little band
Of citizens, who sprang from out the night,
Slew as they lay. The Prince, who bore my sister
Unhurt to ground, stood for a moment mute.
Then, seeing all was lost, he with a groan
Stabbed himself where we stood. I fear his hurt
Is mortal, since in vain I tried to staunch
The rushing blood; then bade them on a litter
Carry him hither gently. Here he comes.

Enter Citizens, bearing ASANDER on a litter, wounded.

Gycia. Oh, my love, thou art hurt! Canst thou forgive me?
I thought to save thee and the rest. I knew not,
I did not know! Oh, God!

Asan. I do believe thee. The fates have led our feet by luckless ways Which only lead to death. I loved but thee. I wished thy State no wrong, but I am dying. Farewell! my love, farewell!

[Dies.

Gycia. Oh, my lost love!

[Throws herself on the body and kisses it passionately.

Zetho. Poor souls! Mysterious are the ways of Heaven,
And these have suffered deeply in the fortune
That bound their lives together.

Bard. That dead man
Would have betrayed our State, and thou dost pity!
So perish all the enemies of Cherson!

Gycia (rising). Nay, sir, be silent. ’Tis a coward’s part To vilify the dead. You, my Lord Zetho, I had your promise that you would hurt none Except the guilty only, and I thought That to your word I might entrust my life And one more dear than mine; but now it seems That in some coward and unreasoning panic This worthy Senator has moved his colleagues Since cruelty is close akin to fear To break your faith to me, and to confuse The innocent and guilty, those who led And those who followed, in one dreadful death! I pray you pardon me if, being a woman, Too rashly taking part in things of State, I have known nought of State-craft or the wisdom Which breaks a plighted word.

Zetho. Daughter, I would Our promise had been kept, and I had kept it But that the safety of the State to some Seemed to demand its breach.

Gycia. Farewell, good Zetho, And all who were my friends. I am going hence; I can no longer stay. There lies my love. There flames my father’s house. I go far off, A long, long journey. If you see me not In life again, I humbly pray the State May, if it think me worthy for indeed I have given it all bury me, when I die, Within the city, in a fair white tomb, As did our Grecian forefathers of old For him who saved the State; and, if it may be, Lay my love by my side.

Zetho and Sens. Daughter, we swear
That thou shalt have thy wish.

Gycia. I thank you, sirs. Then, I may go. Kiss me, good Theodorus: I am no more a wife. I know thy love, And thank thee for it. For that wretch whose lie Has wrecked our life and love, I bless the gods That I am childless, lest my daughter grew As vile a thing as she; and yet I know not. She loved him in some sort, poor wretch, poor wretch! But now I must be going. ’Tis past midnight;

[Snatches dagger from THEODORUS’S side.

I must go hence. I have lost my life and love.
But I have saved the State.

[Stabs herself and falls on Asander’s body.

Citizens of Cherson bursting in.

Cits. The State is saved! Long may our Cherson flourish!
The State is saved! Long live our Lady Gycia,
Who saved the State!

Gycia (rising a little). Yes, I have saved the State!

[Falls back dead.

Citizens (without). Long live the Lady Gycia!

Curtain.