Chapter 18Act V, Scene 1

Act V The Palace in Antioch. Scene 1 A hall in the Palace. Phayllus, alone. PHAYLLUS My brain has loosened harder knots than this. Timocles gets by this his Rodogune; That’s one thing gained. Tonight or else tomorrow I’ll have her in his bed though I have to hale her Stumbling to it through her own husband’s blood. For he must die. He is too great a man To be a subject: nor is that his intention Who hides some subtler purpose. Exile would free him For more stupendous mischief. Death! But how? There is this Syrian people, there is Timocles Whose light unstable mind like a pale leaf Trembles, desires, resolves, renounces. Timocles enters. TIMOCLES Phayllus, It is the high gods bring about this good. My great high brother, strong Antiochus To come and kneel to me! No hatred more! He is the brother whom I loved in Egypt.

Rodogune PHAYLLUS Oh, wilt thou always be, thou shapeless soul, Clay for each passing circumstance to alter? TIMOCLES Do you not think I have only now to ask And he will give me Rodogune? She’s not his wife! Cast always together in the lonely desert, Long nearness must have wearied him of her; For he was never a lover. O Phayllus, When so much has been brought about, will you tell me This will not happen too? I am sure the gods Intend this. PHAYLLUS So you think Antiochus comes To lay his lofty head below your foot? You can believe it! Truly, if you think that, There’s nothing left that cannot be believed. This soul that dreamed of conquests at its birth, This strong overweening swift ambitious man Whom victory disappoints, to whom continents Seem narrow, will submit, you say, — to you? You’ll keep him for your servant? TIMOCLES What is it you hint? Stroke not your chin! Speak plainly. Do you know, I sometimes hate you! PHAYLLUS I care not, if you hear me And let me guard you from your enemies. TIMOCLES I know you love me, but your thoughts are evil To every other and your ways are worse.

Act V, Scene 1 Yet speak; what is it you fear? PHAYLLUS How should I know? Yet this seems probable that having failed By violent battle he is creeping in To slay you silently. You smile at that? It is the commonest rule of statesmanship And History’s strewn with instances. Believe it not; Believe your wishes, not mankind’s record; Slumber till with the sword in you you wake And he assumes your purple. TIMOCLES (indifferently) I hear, Phayllus. Let him give me Rodogune And all’s excused he has ever done to me. PHAYLLUS He will keep her and take all hearts besides That ever loved you. TIMOCLES (still indifferently) I will see that first. Cleopatra enters quickly. CLEOPATRA It is true, Timocles? It is even true! Antiochus my son is coming to me, Is coming to me! TIMOCLES Thus you love him still! CLEOPATRA He is my child, he has his father’s face. And I shall have my Parthian Rodogune With her sweet voice and gentle touch, and her,

Rodogune My darling, my clear-eyed delight, Eunice, And I shall not be lonely any more. I have not been so happy since you came From Egypt. But, O heaven! what followed that? Will now no stark calamity arise With Gorgon head to turn us into stone Venging this glimpse of joy? Torn by your scourges I fear you, gods, too much to trust your smile. Nicanor enters. NICANOR Antiochus comes. TIMOCLES Hail, thou victorious captain, Syria’s strong rescuer! NICANOR Syria’s rescuer comes, Thy brother Antiochus who makes himself A sword to smite thy dangerous enemies. PHAYLLUS You used not once to praise him so, Nicanor. NICANOR Because I knew not then his nobleness Who had only seen his might. PHAYLLUS Yet had you promised That if he entered Antioch, it would be chained And naked, travelling to the pit or sword, Nicanor. NICANOR He comes not as a prisoner,

Act V, Scene 1 But royally disdaining to enslave For private ends his country to the Parthian. TIMOCLES Comes my dear brother soon? NICANOR Even at this moment He enters. TIMOCLES Summon our court. Let all men’s eyes behold This reconciliation. I shall see Next moment Rodogune! There enter from one side Callicrates, Melitus, Cleone, courtiers; from the other Antiochus, Eunice, Rodogune, Thoas, Leosthenes, Philoctetes. O brother, in my arms! Let this firm clasp Be sign of the recovered amity That binds once more for joy Nicanor’s sons. ANTIOCHUS This is like thee, my brother Timocles. Let all vain strife be banished from our souls. My sword is thine, and I am thine and all I have and love is thine, O Syrian Timocles, Devoted to thy throne for Syria. TIMOCLES All? Brother! O clasp me once again, Antiochus. ANTIOCHUS The Syrian land once cleansed of foemen, rescued From these fierce perils, I shall have thy leave, Brother, to voyage into distant lands; But not till I have seen your Antioch joys

Rodogune Of which they told us, I and my dear wife, The Parthian princess Rodogune. See, brother, How all things work out by a higher will. Thou hast the Syrian kingdom, I have her And my own soul for monarchy. TIMOCLES His wife! MELITUS The King is pale and gnaws his nether lip. ANTIOCHUS Mother, I kneel to you; raise me this time And I will not be froward. CLEOPATRA My child! my child! TIMOCLES He will not give me Rodogune! And now he’ll steal My mother’s heart. Captains, I welcome you: You are my soldiers now. LEOSTHENES We thank thee, King. We are thy brother’s soldiers, therefore thine. TIMOCLES Yes! Philoctetes, old Egyptian friend, You go not yet to Egypt? PHILOCTETES I know not where. I have forgotten why I came from thence. I hope that you will love your brother.

Act V, Scene 1 TIMOCLES Him! Oh yes, I’ll love him. ANTIOCHUS Brother Timocles, We have come far today; will you appoint us Our chambers here? TIMOCLES I’ll take you to them, brother. All leave the hall except Cleone and Phayllus. CLEONE Is this their peace? But he’ll have Rodogune And I shall like a common flower be thrown Into the dust-heap. PHAYLLUS Pooh! CLEONE I have eyes; I see. Even then I knew I would be nothing to you Once you were seated. I’ll not be flung away! Beware, Phayllus; for Antiochus lives. PHAYLLUS Make change of lovers then with Rodogune While yet he lives. CLEONE I might do even that. He has a beautiful body like a god’s. I will not have him slain.

Rodogune PHAYLLUS You may be his widow If you make haste in marrying him; for soon He will be carrion. Timocles returns. TIMOCLES I’ld have a word with you, Phayllus. Cleone withdraws out of hearing. Where will they put the Parthian Rodogune? PHAYLLUS Put her? TIMOCLES To sleep, dull ruffian! Her chamber! Where? PHAYLLUS Why, in one bed with Prince Antiochus. TIMOCLES Thou bitter traitor, dar’st thou say it too? Art thou too leagued to slay me? Shall I bear it? In my own palace! In one bed! O God! I will go now and stab him through the heart And drag her, drag her — CLEONE (running to him) The foam is on his lips! PHAYLLUS Restrain thy passions, King! He is transformed. This is that curious devil, jealousy. As if it mattered! He will have her soon.

Act V, Scene 1 TIMOCLES Cleone, I thank you. When I think of this, Something revolts within to strangle me And tears my life out of my bosom. Phayllus, You spoke of plots; where are they? Let me see them. PHAYLLUS That’s hard. Are they not hidden in his breast? TIMOCLES Can you not tear them out? PHAYLLUS Torture your brother! TIMOCLES Torture his generals; let them howl their love for him! Torture Eunice. Let truth come out twixt shrieks! Number her words with gouts of blood! PHAYLLUS You’ll hurt yourself. Be calmer. Torture! To what purpose that? It is not profitable. TIMOCLES I will have proofs. Wilt thou thwart me, thou traitor, even thou? Arrange his trial instantly, arrange His exile. PHAYLLUS Exile! You might as well arrange At once your ruin. TIMOCLES There shall be justice, justice.

Rodogune Thou shalt be fairly judged, Antiochus. I will not slay him. Exile! And Rodogune With me in Antioch. PHAYLLUS Listen! the passing people sing his name. They’ll rise to rescue him and slay us all As dogs are killed in summer. Command his death: No man will rise for a dead carcase. Death, Not exile! He’ll return with Ptolemy Or great Phraates, take your Syria from you, Take Rodogune. TIMOCLES I give my power to you. Try him and sentence him. But execution, Let it be execution. I will have No murder done. Arrange it. He goes out followed by Cleone. PHAYLLUS While he’s in the mood, It must be quickly done. But that’s to venture With no support in Syria when it’s done Except this brittle king. It matters not. Fortune will bear me out; she’s grown my slave-girl. What liberties have I not taken with her Which she has suffered amorously, kinder grown After each handling. Watch me, my only lover! Sudden and swift shall be Phayllus’ stroke.