SCENE 2. _A bare room in the castle fort. Aristocles alone.

_Aris._ They said a bed would be provided me, But nothing's here. And nothing's all he needs, Who holds himself a soul stripped of the world And its necessities. [_Lies down_] That fellow took My cloak. Good luck to him. Philosophy, Thou art the only sail no wind may drive Into misfortune's port. How still the world! The silence like a great Accuser stares, Full of dumb curses looking from large eyes.

[_Rises and walks_]

... I will not see her more. O, quickly come, Ye stoic angels wont to wait on me, And with the cords of resolution stout Bind ye my purpose to the throne of Zeus That it may shake but with Olympus' self! ... Will she not think me harsh to leave her so? She who is made of all earth's gentle things-- The scent of morn, the first green on the bough, The valley dews where infant blossoms drink, The going light with rose heart yearning back,-- Yet brave, and like a new Hippolita Might wear the belt of Mars. O, flower of heaven, Yet wrapped in soft and strange delirium Of odors once Elysian! Naught to me, Who will not see her more. Now is she dead, And I know but a grave. I'll sleep ... sleep ... sleep.

[_Lies still. Enter Aratea. She is veiled, and her unbound hair falls about her form_]

_Ara._ [_Drawing inner bolt to door_] I scarce could bribe the guard to let me pass!

[_Looks about room and sees Aristocles_]

Asleep? [_Crosses to him. Unveils_] Rise, friend!

_Aris._ [_Starting_] My dream.

_Ara._ Aristocles!

_Aris._ [_Rising_] You? you?

_Ara._ I, friend.

_Aris._ 'Tis you--and yet 'tis not. A stranger soul, disordered and unknown, Looks from your eyes.

_Ara._ My brother's false to thee. This castle's murder's trap, and you are caught in 't!

_Aris._ I've had some thought 'twas so. I die to-night?

_Ara._ No, no! dear Heaven! See! [_Opens door, left_] This inner room. It has a hidden stairway to the sea Where waits a boat will bear you to a sail New-spread for Greece, with crew that know the wave As though begot of mermaids.

_Aris._ No! To make Presumptuous end of life is an offence To Heaven, but gracious gods may offer death For honorable choice--as they do now-- And here I choose it.

_Ara._ Thy choice then must be mine. My hope was you would fly and hasten Dion To my deliverance. For I am sold. The cords of bondage cut in very flesh. But ask not now of this. This letter here Will tell my lord what I have spared you. Go, Or I've no hope, and then--by this bright blade-- [_showing a dagger_] I die.

_Aris._ Ah, what you will! Command me.

_Ara._ [_Moving left_] Come! Into this chamber!

[_Exeunt, and in a moment re-enter_]

O, the door new-sealed! Apollo help us now!... Did you not see The narrow window in that chamber?

_Aris._ Ay, The stars looked on us as we passed, as though They smiled to see how man would measure time With periods clept death.

_Ara._ [_Fearfully_] If you--could leap----

_Aris._ I will.

_Ara._ Tis not far down--but O, the rocks Jut up like monsters. No! You shall not do it. 'Twere death with treble pain.

_Aris._ Then I'll die here. To go from your fair presence to the gods Is hardly change.

_Ara._ 'Twould change the world that lost thee. Then would this isle uncrown herself of joy, And palsying shake beauty from her lap. The flowers would die in pain, and every leaf Fast wither, fade and fall, as those that moan O'er Thracian Phyllis' grave. I will not stay Without my friend. Ah no, 'twould not be life.

_Aris._ The longest days are breaths, quick-drawn and short, The longest life a day to be forgot. Thou soon wouldst come.

_Ara._ I could not find the way. 'Tis with your eyes, not mine, I catch the light Unalterable upon immortal brows And keep my course.

_Aris._ Nay, thou'st no need of guide. Shine out, bright soul, and dim thy troubling stars.

_Ara._ [_Turns aside, weeping_] You do not know!

_Aris._ Be true unto the calm Of Heaven in you set. Who trust to aught That's of their souls externe but give themselves As feathers to the wind.

_Ara._ [_Slowly_] My lord, this night, By Dionysius' force, my hand was given In marriage to Ocrastes. Dost thou hear? Ocrastes sails this hour for Italy. Ere he returns----

_Aris._ Thou'st whirled away my soul! O stroke of Dis! O faithless Heaven! He? Not he! Such mid-hell treachery is out Of mortal meaning!

_Ara._ He is mad, I think. He loves me not.

_Aris._ I'd sport a madman too! Wear lunacy as doth a king his purple, If that would draw a goddess from the skies To quiet in my arms! Did it not strain Forbearance to the snap that Dion--whose wisdom Humbles the mouth of Zeus--whose justice is The boast of shades when Rhadamanthus blunders-- Should wear the chiefest pearl to mortals cast-- Sweet Beauty's sole extravagance--as 'twere A something to be stained with human love And gods not question it? Who then could see It made the common booty of a thief, Nor break the cable of a mind controlled And lose the shore of reason? Who?

_Ara._ [_Kneeling_] Be calm If thou wouldst help me.

_Aris._ [_Not heeding_] Pity, weep, weep, weep! O, from thy woeful heaven cast a dew As universal as the East when she To every herb throws pearls!

_Ara._ [_Leaping up_] The guards! They come! But I go with thee, sir. 'Tis not farewell.

_Aris._ [_Calm_] Not you. I die because Elysian mates Now summon me. No need excuses there The guest intrusive. Stay thee for thy call, Nor but to save an hour of painful breath Cut ever off the never ending day We two shall walk the clouds too happy e'en To love. Give me that hope, and dying now I live. Deny it, and 'tis you, not swords, That wound. They slay poor flesh, that gauzy breath Sole guards from wormy ravage. You would strike My never-healing soul! Those steps of doom----

_Ara._ Hark! Ah--they pass! Dear gods, is there no way?

_Aris._ The window.

_Ara._ No!

_Aris._ I'll make the leap and live To set you free!

_Ara._ No, no! The rocks would gash More cruelly than swords. Wait--O! Blest Heaven! Thou 'rt saved! Wait here!

[_Runs into inner room_]

_Aris._ Go, spirit beautiful! Her hair enrobes her like a parted cloud That opes to show us Heaven.... Give now my flesh To swords, ye gods, but save me from the death That has no end!...

[_Re-enter Aratea, shorn of her locks, which she lays at Aristocles' feet. Her veil is draped about her, concealing her loss_]

O! Maimed, my goddess?

_Ara._ See? I knew you'd say me nay. But now 'tis done.

_Aris._ Those locks of Venus' gold.

_Ara._ The dagger served.

_Aris._ Too well!

_Ara._ [_Weaving the locks_] Not so. Now, now a rope to bridge Eternity for thee! More strands! Lend me Your lightnings, blessed skies, to weave this chain!

_Aris._ Your flying fingers need them not.

_Ara._ More, more! A thousand hairs, they say, will hold a man.

_Aris._ Ay, one will do it.

_Ara._ Merry, my lord? Why not? Apollo, smile upon us! I know we dream. See how I make this fast? It is your life I lengthen.

_Aris._ O, 'tis bought too preciously! [_Takes up a lock and kisses it_] What waste of sun and gold!

_Ara._ Nay, when you're safe, I'll cast it to fair Venus on the sea, A votive offering. Look now! 'Tis done.

_Aris._ So soon?

_Ara._ And you must go.

_Aris._ Art sure 'tis done?

_Ara._ Afraid, my lord?

_Aris._ Afraid!

_Ara._ You see 'tis finished.

_Aris._ Ay, 'tis.

_Ara._ The window--come! We'll make this fast-- And then--farewell!

_Aris._ Till I return with Dion.

_Ara._ Return? No, no, my lord! O, come no more To this cursed land. Be happy in thy Athens. And Plenty bless thee as thou wert her child, Swelling thy measure till prosperity Hang on thy look like fruit invisible Dropping to whom thou wilt.

_Aris._ And you--and you-- My heart is dumb. What gods wish for themselves Become a human fortune and befall thee!

[_Exeunt. Guards approach and beat door. Re-enter Aratea_]

_Ara._ Strike, dogs! Some say Apollo fathered him. O, god of melody, guard thou the life That beats a perfect song!

[_Door falls and Domenes enters with guards_]

_Dom._ What! Who is this?

_Ara._ A princess, sir.

_Dom._ Where is the prisoner?

_Ara._ He's gone.

_Dom._ Gone! How? Where?

_Ara._ Did not Zeus himself Steal Ganymede? Why not Aristocles?

[_Curtain_]