Becket And Other Plays Part 43

Yours must have been a wearier. Sit and eat, And take a hunter's vengeance on the meats.

SINNATUS.

No, no--we have eaten--we are heated. Wine!

CAMMA.

Who is our guest?

SINNATUS.

Strato he calls himself.

[CAMMA _offers wine to_ SYNORIX, _while_ SINNATUS _helps himself_.

SINNATUS.

I pledge you, Strato. [_Drinks_.

SYNORIX.

And I you, my lord. [_Drinks_.

SINNATUS (_seeing the cup sent to_ CAMMA).

What's here?

CAMMA.

A strange gift sent to me to-day.

A sacred cup saved from a blazing shrine Of our great G.o.ddess, in some city where Antonius past. I had believed that Rome Made war upon the peoples not the G.o.ds.

SYNORIX.

Most like the city rose against Antonius, Whereon he fired it, and the sacred shrine By chance was burnt along with it.

SINNATUS.

Had you then No message with the cup?

CAMMA.

Why, yes, see here.

[_Gives him the scroll_.

SINNATUS (_reads_).

'To the admired Camma,--beheld you afar off--loved you--sends you this cup--the cup we use in our marriages--cannot at present write himself other than 'A GALATIAN SERVING BY FORCE IN THE ROMAN LEGION.'

Serving by force! Were there no boughs to hang on, Rivers to drown in? Serve by force? No force Could make me serve by force.

SYNORIX.

How then, my lord?

The Roman is encampt without your city-- The force of Rome a thousand-fold our own.

Must all Galatia hang or drown herself?

And you a Prince and Tetrarch in this province--

SINNATUS.

Province!

SYNORIX.

Well, well, they call it so in Rome.

SINNATUS (_angrily_).

Province!

SYNORIX.

A n.o.ble anger! but Antonius To-morrow will demand your tribute--you, Can you make war? Have you alliances?

Bithynia, Pontus, Paphlagonia?

We have had our leagues of old with Eastern kings.

There is my hand--if such a league there be.

What will you do?

SINNATUS.

Not set myself abroach And run my mind out to a random guest Who join'd me in the hunt. You saw my hounds True to the scent; and we have two-legg'd dogs Among us who can smell a true occasion, And when to bark and how.

SYNORIX.

My good Lord Sinnatus, I once was at the hunting of a lion.

Roused by the clamour of the chase he woke, Came to the front of the wood--his monarch mane Bristled about his quick ears--he stood there Staring upon the hunter. A score of dogs Gnaw'd at his ankles: at the last he felt The trouble of his feet, put forth one paw, Slew four, and knew it not, and so remain'd Staring upon the hunter: and this Rome Will crush you if you wrestle with her; then Save for some slight report in her own Senate Scarce know what she has done.

(_Aside_.) Would I could move him, Provoke him any way! (_Aloud_.) The Lady Camma, Wise I am sure as she is beautiful, Will close with me that to submit at once Is better than a wholly-hopeless war, Our gallant citizens murder'd all in vain, Son, husband, brother gash'd to death in vain, And the small state more cruelly trampled on Than had she never moved.

CAMMA.

Sir, I had once A boy who died a babe; but were he living And grown to man and Sinnatus will'd it, I Would set him in the front rank of the fight With scarce a pang. (_Rises_.) Sir, if a state submit At once, she may be blotted out at once And swallow'd in the conqueror's chronicle.

Whereas in wars of freedom and defence The glory and grief of battle won or lost Solders a race together--yea--tho' they fail, The names of those who fought and fell are like A bank'd-up fire that flashes out again From century to century, and at last May lead them on to victory--I hope so-- Like phantoms of the G.o.ds.

SINNATUS.

Well spoken, wife.

SYNORIX (_bowing_).

Madam, so well I yield.

SINNATUS.

I should not wonder If Synorix, who has dwelt three years in Rome And wrought his worst against his native land.

Returns with this Antonius.

SYNORIX.

What is Synorix?

SINNATUS.

Galatian, and not know? This Synorix Was Tetrarch here, and tyrant also--did Dishonour to our wives.

SYNORIX.

Perhaps you judge him With feeble charity: being as you tell me Tetrarch, there might be willing wives enough To feel dishonour, honour.

CAMMA.

Do not say so.

I know of no such wives in all Galatia.

There may be courtesans for aught I know Whose life is one dishonour.

_Enter_ ATTENDANT.