Thomas Noon Talfourd

“ TIMOCLES.
And I—
ION.
O Sages, do not think my prayer
Bespeaks unseemly forwardness—send me!
The coarsest reed that trembles in the marsh,
If Heaven select it for its instrument,
May shed celestial music on the breeze
As clearly as the pipe whose virgin gold
Befits the lip of Phœbus;—ye are wise,
And needed by your country; ye are fathers:
I am a lone stray thing, whose little life
By strangers' bounty cherish'd, like a wave
That from the summer sea a wanton breeze
Lifts for a moment's sparkle, will subside
Light as it rose, nor leave a sigh in breaking. ”

“ MEDON.
Be that instant blest
Which made thee truly ours. My son! my son!
'Tis we should feel uplifted, for the seal
Of greatness is upon thee; yet I know
That when the gods, won by thy virtues, draw
The veil which now conceals their lofty birthplace,
Thou wilt not spurn the maid who prized them lowly.
ION.
Spurn her! My father!
[Enter Ctesiphon.]
MEDON.
Ctesiphon!—and breathless—
Art come to chide me to the council?
CTESIPHON.
No;
To bring unwonted joy; thy son approaches.
MEDON.
Thank Heaven! ”

“ Phocion my son to Delphos, there to seek
Our cause of sorrow; but, as time dragg'd on
Without his messenger's return, he grew
Impatient of all counsel,—to his palace
In awful mood retiring, wildly call'd
The reckless of his court to share his stores
And end all with him. When we dared disturb
His dreadful feastings with a humble prayer
That he would meet us, the poor slave, who bore
The message, flew back smarting from the scourge,
And mutter'd a decree that he who next
Unbidden met the tyrant's glance should die.
AGENOR.
I am prepared to brave it. ”

“ That bade the long-seal'd fount of love gush out,
While with a prince's constancy he came
To lay his noble life down; and the sure,
The dreadful proof, that he whose guileless brow
Is instinct with her spirit, stood above me,
Arm'd for the traitor's deed?—It is my child!
[Ion, reviving, sinks on one knee before Adrastus.]
ION.
Father! [Noise without.]
MEDON.
The clang of arms!
ION. [starting up]
They come! they come!
They who are leagued with me against thy life.
Here let us fall!
ADRASTUS.
I will confront them yet. ”

“ ION.
Well I knew it would be mine!
[Ctesiphon draws another lot.]
CTESIPHON.
Phocion! it will be thine to strike him dead
If he should prove faint-hearted.
PHOCION.
With my life I'll answer for his constancy.
CTESIPHON. [to Ion.]
Thy hand! 'Tis cold as death.
ION.
Yes; but it is as firm.
What ceremony next?
[Ctesiphon leads Ion to the altar, and gives him a knife.]
CTESIPHON.
Receive this steel,
For ages dedicate in my sad home
To sacrificial uses; grasp it nobly,
And consecrate it to untrembling service
Against the king of Argos and his race.
ION.
His race! ”

“ Infect us. See that they embark, Agenor,
Ere night.
Cry. My lord --
Ion. No more -- my word hath pass'd.
Medon, -- there is no office I can add
To those thou hast grown old in; thou wilt guard
The shrine of Phoebus, and within thy home
Thy too delightful home befriend the stranger
As thou didst me; there sometimes waste a thought
On thy spoil'd inmate!
Medon. Think of thee, my lord?
Long shall we triumph in thy glorious reign --
Ion. Prithee no more. Argives! I have a boon
To crave of you ”

“ CTESIPHON.
Go talk to others if thou wilt;—to me
All argument, save that of steel, is idle.
MEDON.
No more;—let's to the council—there, my son,
Tell thy great message nobly;—and for thee,
Poor orphan'd youth, be sure the gods are just!
[Exeunt.]
Scene III
The great Square of the City. Adrastus seated on a throne; Agenor, Timocles, Cleon, and others, seated as Councillors—Soldiers line the stage at a distance.
ADRASTUS.
Upon your summons, Sages, I am here;
Your king attends to know your pleasure; speak it!
AGENOR.
And canst thou ask? ”

“ Ion. No, Crythes! in ourselves,
In our own honest hearts and chainless hands
Will be our safeguard ; while we seek no use
Of arms we would not have our children blend
With their first innocent wishes; while the love
Of Argos and of justice shall be one
To their young reason ; while their sinews grow
Firm 'midst the gladness of heroic sports,
We shall not ask, to guard our country's peace,
One selfish passion, or one venal sword. ”

“ Touch'd ye with softer, homelier look, now fades
In dismal blackness; and yon twisted roots
Of ancient trees, with whose fantastic forms
My thoughts grew humorous, look terrible,
As if about to start to serpent life,
And hiss around me;—whither shall I turn?—
Where fly?—I see the myrtle-cradled spot
Where human love instructed by divine
Found and embraced me first; I'll cast me down
Upon that earth as on a mother's breast,
In hope to feel myself again a child.
[Ion goes into the wood.]
[Enter Ctesiphon, Cassander, and other Argive youths.] ”

“ Those limbs which in their heedless motion own'd
A stripling's playful happiness, are strung
As if the iron hardships of the camp
Had given them sturdy nurture; and his step,
Its airiness of yesterday forgotten,
Awakes the echoes of these desolate courts,
As if a hero of gigantic mould
Paced them in armour.
AGENOR.
Hope is in thy tale.
This is no freak of Nature's wayward course,
But work of pitying Heaven; for not in vain
The gods have pour'd into that guileless heart
The strengths that nerve the hero;—they are ours.
CLEON.
How can he aid us? ”

“ With torturing hope or idle rage; thy guards,
Palsied with revelry, are scatter'd senseless,
While the most valiant of our Argive youths
Hold every passage by which human aid
Could reach thee. Present death is the award
Of Powers who watch above me while I stand
To execute their sentence.
ADRASTUS.
Thou!—I know thee—
The youth I spared this morning, in whose ear
I pour'd the secrets of my bosom. Kill me,
If thou dar'st do it; but bethink thee first
How the grim memory of thy thankless deed
Will haunt thee to the grave!
ION.
It is most true ”

“ ADRASTUS. [to Ion.]
Dost thou see them?
ION.
I do.
ADRASTUS.
By Heaven, he does not change!
If, even now, thou wilt depart and leave
Thy traitorous thoughts unspoken, thou art free.
ION.
I thank thee for thy offer; but I stand
Before thee for the lives of thousands, rich
In all that makes life precious to the brave;
Who perish not alone, but in their fall
Break the far-spreading tendrils that they feed,
And leave them nurtureless. If thou wilt hear me
For them, I am content to speak no more.
ADRASTUS.
Thou hast thy wish then. ”

“ Not without thee.
Indeed thou art not well; thy hands are marble;
Thine eyes are fix'd; let me support thee, love:—
Ha! what is that gleaming within thy vest?
A knife! Tell me its purpose, Ion!
ION.
No;
My oath forbids.
CLEMANTHE.
An oath! O gentle Ion,
What can have link'd thee to a cause which needs
A stronger cement than a good man's word?
There's danger in it. Wilt thou keep it from me?
ION.
Alas, I must. Thou wilt know all full soon—
[Voices call "Ion!"]
Hark! I am call'd.
CLEMANTHE.
Nay, do not leave me thus. ”

“ That he will seek have shed their paleness on him.
Has this night's walk shown more than common sorrow?
ION.
I pass'd the palace where the frantic king
Yet holds his crimson revel, whence the roar
Of desperate mirth came, mingling with the sigh
Of death-subdued robustness, and the gleam
Of festal lamps mid spectral columns hung
Flaunting o'er shapes of anguish made them ghastlier.
How can I cease to tremble for the sad ones
He mocks—and him the wretchedest of all?
TIMOCLES.
And canst thou pity him? ”

“ A nation's fate lies circled.—King Adrastus!
Steel'd as thy heart is with the usages
Of pomp and power, a few short summers since
Thou wert a child, and canst not be relentless.
Oh, if maternal love embraced thee then,
Think of the mothers who with eyes unwet
Glare o'er their perishing children: hast thou shared
The glow of a first friendship, which is born
Midst the rude sports of boyhood, think of youth
Smitten amidst its playthings;—let the spirit
Of thy own innocent childhood whisper pity!
ADRASTUS.
In every word thou dost but steel my soul. ”

“ Bears "Ion" or "Adrastus" burnt within it
As my soul's owner? Ion tyrant? No!
Grant me a moment's pleading with his heart,
Which has not known a selfish throb till now,
And thou shalt see him smile this greatness from him.
CTESIPHON.
Go teach the eagle when in azure heaven
He upward darts to seize his madden'd prey,
Shivering through the death-circle of its fear,
To pause and let it 'scape, and thou mayst win
Man to forego the sparkling round of power,
When it floats airily within his grasp!
PHOCION.
Why thus severe? ”

“ O'er Argos, is dispelled -- Agenor, give
This gentle youth his freedom, who hath brought
Sweet tidings that I shall not die in vain!
And Medon! cherish him as thou hast one
Who, dying, blesses thee; my own Clemanthe!
Let this console thee also -- Argos lives! ”

“ AGENOR.
Will the dawn never visit us? These hours
Toil heavy with the unresting curse they bear
To do the work of desolating years!
All distant sounds are hush'd;—the shriek of death
And the survivors' wail are now unheard,
As grief had worn itself to patience. Irus!
I'm loth so soon to break thy scanty rest,
But my heart sickens for the tardy morn;
Sure it is breaking;—speed and look—yet hold,
Know'st thou the fearful shelf of rock that hangs
Above the encroaching waves, the loftiest point
That stretches eastward?
IRUS.
Know it? ”

“ And canst thou find the voice to ask "our pleasure?"
ADRASTUS.
Cease, babbler;—wherefore would ye stun my ears
With vain recital of the griefs I know,
And cannot heal?—will treason turn aside
The shafts of fate, or medicine Nature's ills?
I have no skill in pharmacy, nor power
To sway the elements.
AGENOR.
Thou hast the power
To cast thyself upon the earth with us
In penitential shame; or, if this power
Hath left a heart made weak by luxury
And hard by pride, thou hast at least the power
To cease the mockery of thy frantic revels. ”

“ ADRASTUS. [to Crythes and the soldiers.]
Why do ye tarry here?
Begone!—still do ye hover round my couch?
If the commandment of a dying king
Is feeble, as a man who has embraced
His child for the first time since infancy,
And presently must part with him for ever,
I do adjure ye leave us!
[Exeunt all but Ion and Adrastus.]
ION.
O my father!
How is it with thee now?
ADRASTUS.
Well ”

“ How power will change him.
[They stand aside.]
The Procession, Enter U. E. R. MEDON, AGENOR, PHO- CION, TIMOCLES, CLEON, Sages and People ION last in royal robes. He advances amidst shouts.
Ion. I thank you for your greeting Shout no more,
But in deep silence raise your hearts to Heaven,
That it may strengthen one so young and frail
As I am, for the business of this hour.
Must I sit here?
Medon. Permit thy earliest friend,
Who has so often propp'd thy tottering step
To lead thee to thy throne, and thus fulfill
His fondest vision.
Ion. Thou art still most kind
Medon. ”

“ AGENOR.
And dost thou think these breezes are our foes,—
The innocent airs that used to dance around us,
As if they felt the blessings they convey'd,
Or that the death they bear is casual? No!
Tis human guilt that blackens in the cloud,
Flashes athwart its mass in jagged fire,
Whirls in the hurricane, pollutes the air,
Turns all the joyous melodies of earth
To murmurings of doom. ”

“ MEDON.
Touch him not,—
He is Apollo's messenger, whose lips
Were never stain'd with falsehood.
PHOCION.
Come on, all!
AGENOR.
Surround him, friends! Die with him!
ADRASTUS.
Soldiers, charge
Upon these rebels; hew them down. On, on!
[The soldiers advance and surround the people; they seize Phocion. Ion rushes from the back of the stage, and throws himself between Adrastus and Phocion.]
PHOCION [to Adrastus.]
Yet I defy thee.
ION.
[To Phocion.] ”

“ Stand forth, Agenor!
Agen. I await thy will.
Ion. To thee I look as to the wisest friend
Of this afflicted people thou must leave
Awhile the quiet which thy life hath earn'd,
To rule our councils ; fill the seats of justice
With good men not so absolute in goodness,
As to forget what human frailty is;
And order my sad country.
Agen. Pardon me --
Ion. ”

“ ADRASTUS.
Yes, slave! alone. He is no assassin!
[Exit Crythes.]
Tell me who thou art.
What generous source owns that heroic blood,
Which holds its course thus bravely? What great wars
Have nursed the courage that can look on death,
Certain and speedy death, with placid eye?
ION.
I am a simple youth, who never bore
The weight of armour,—one who may not boast
Of noble birth or valour of his own. ”

“ AGENOR.
What, Ion
The only inmate of this fane allow'd
To seek the mournful walks where death is busy!—
Ion our sometime darling, whom we prized
As a stray gift, by bounteous Heaven dismiss'd
From some bright sphere which sorrow may not cloud
To make the happy happier! ”

“ Through the proud halls of time-embolden'd guilt
Portents of ruin, hear me!—In your presence,
For now I feel ye nigh, I dedicate
This arm to the destruction of the king
And of his race! O keep me pitiless;
Expel all human weakness from my frame,
That this keen weapon shake not when his heart
Should feel its point ”

“ Closer and closer round us—Phocion absent—
And thou, forsaking all within thy home,
Wilt risk thy life with strangers, in whose aid
Even thou canst do but little?
ION.
It is little:
But in these sharp extremities of fortune,
The blessings which the weak and poor can scatter
Have their own season. ”

“ Of nymph-like loveliness, which finest chords
Of sympathy pervading shall suffuse
In times of quiet with one bloom, and fill
With one resistless impulse, if the hosts
Of foreign power should threaten. ”

“ Now matters not, since thou art here in joy.
Hast brought the answer of the god?
PHOCION.
I have: Now let Adrastus tremble!
MEDON.
May we hear it?
PHOCION.
I am sworn first to utter it to him.
CTESIPHON.
But it is fatal to him!—Say but that!
PHOCION.
Ha, Ctesiphon!—I mark'd thee not before;
How fares thy father?
ION. [to Phocion.]
Do not speak of him.
CTESIPHON. [overhearing Ion.]
Not speak of him! Dost think there is a moment
When common things eclipse the burning thought
Of him and vengeance?
PHOCION.
Has the tyrant's sword—
CTESIPHON.
No, Phocion ”