Chapter 7Act II, Scene 1

Act II Scene 1 The audience-chamber in the Palace of Cepheus. Cepheus and Cassiopea, seated. CASSIOPEA What will you do, Cepheus? CEPHEUS This that has happened Is most unfortunate. CASSIOPEA What will you do? I hope you will not give up to the priest My Iolaus’ golden head? I hope You do not mean that? CEPHEUS Great Poseidon’s priest Sways all this land: for from the liberal blood Moistening that high-piled altar grow our harvests And strong Poseidon satisfied defends Our frontiers from the loud Assyrian menace. CASSIOPEA Empty thy treasuries, glut him with gold. Let us be beggars rather than one bright curl Of Iolaus feel his gloomy mischiefs.

Perseus the Deliverer CEPHEUS I had already thought of it. Medes! Medes enters. Waits Polydaon yet? MEDES He does, my lord. CEPHEUS Call him, and Tyrian Phineus. Medes goes out again. CASSIOPEA Bid Tyre save Andromeda’s loved brother from this doom; He shall not have our daughter otherwise. CEPHEUS This too was in my mind already, queen. Polydaon and Phineus enter. Be seated, King of Tyre: priest Polydaon, Possess thy usual chair. POLYDAON Well, King of Syria, Shall I have justice? Wilt thou be the King Over a peopled country? or must I loose The snake-haired Gorgon-eyed Erinnyes To hunt thee with the clamorous whips of Hell Blood-dripping? CEPHEUS Be content. Cepheus gives nought But justice from his mighty seat. Thou shalt Have justice.

Act II, Scene 1 POLYDAON I am not used to cool my heels About the doors of princes like some beggarly And negligible suitor whose poor plaint Is valued by some paltry drachmas. I am Poseidon’s priest. CEPHEUS The prince is called to answer here Thy charges. POLYDAON Answer! Will he deny a crime Done impudently in Syria’s face? ’Tis well; The Tyrian stands here who can meet that lie. CASSIOPEA My children’s lips were never stained with lies, Insulting priest, nor will be now; from him We shall have truth. CEPHEUS And grant the charge admitted, The ransom shall be measured with the crime. POLYDAON What talk is this of ransom? Thinkst thou, King, That dire Poseidon’s grim offended godhead Can be o’erplastered with a smudge of silver? Shall money blunt his vengeance? Shall his majesty Be estimated in a usurer’s balance? Blood is the ransom of this sacrilege. CASSIOPEA Ah God!

Perseus the Deliverer CEPHEUS (in agitation) Take all my treasury includes Of gold and silver, gems and porphyry Unvalued. POLYDAON The Gods are not to be bribed, King Cepheus. CASSIOPEA (apart) Give him honours, state, precedence, All he can ask. O husband, let me keep My child’s head on my bosom safe. CEPHEUS Listen! What wouldst thou have? Precedence, pomp and state? Hundreds of spears to ring thee where thou walkest? Swart slaves and beautiful women in thy temple To serve thee and thy god? They are thine. In feasts And high processions and proud regal meetings Poseidon’s followers shall precede the King. POLYDAON Me wilt thou bribe? I take these for Poseidon, Nor waive my chief demand. CEPHEUS What will content thee? POLYDAON A victim has been snatched from holy altar: To fill that want a victim is demanded. CEPHEUS I will make war on Egypt and Assyria And throw thee kings for victims.

Act II, Scene 1 POLYDAON Thy vaunt is empty. Poseidon being offended, who shall give thee Victory o’er Egypt and o’er strong Assyria? CEPHEUS Take thou the noblest head in all the kingdom Below the Prince. Take many heads for one. POLYDAON Shall then the innocent perish for the guilty? Is this thy justice? How shall thy kingdom last? CEPHEUS You hear him, Cassiopea? he will not yield, He is inexorable. POLYDAON Must I wait longer? CEPHEUS Ho Medes! Medes enters. Iolaus comes not yet. Medes goes out. CASSIOPEA (rising fiercely) Priest, thou wilt have my child’s blood then, it seems! Nought less will satisfy thee than thy prince For victim? POLYDAON Poseidon knows not prince or beggar. Whoever honours him, he heaps with state And fortune. Whoever wakes his dreadful wrath, He thrusts down into Erebus for ever.

Perseus the Deliverer CASSIOPEA Beware! Thou shalt not have my child. Take heed Ere thou drive monarchs to extremity. Thou hopest in thy sacerdotal pride To make the Kings of Syria childless, end A line that started from the gods. Thinkst thou It will be tamely suffered? What have we To lose, if we lose this? I bid thee again Take heed: drive not a queen to strong despair. I am no tame-souled peasant, but a princess And great Chaldea’s child. POLYDAON (after a pause) Wilt thou confirm Thy treasury and all the promised honours, If I excuse the deed? CEPHEUS They shall be thine. He turns to whisper with Cassiopea. PHINEUS (apart to Polydaon) Dost thou prefer me for thy foeman? POLYDAON See In the queen’s eyes her rage. We must discover New means; this way’s not safe. PHINEUS Thou art a coward, priest, for all thy violence. But fear me first and then blench from a woman. POLYDAON Well, as you choose. Iolaus enters.

Act II, Scene 1 IOLAUS Father, you sent for me? CEPHEUS There is a charge upon thee, Iolaus, I do not yet believe. But answer truth Like Cepheus’ son, whatever the result. IOLAUS Whatever I have done, my father, good Or ill, I dare support against the world. What is this accusation? CEPHEUS Didst thou rescue At dawn a victim from Poseidon’s altar? IOLAUS I did not. POLYDAON Dar’st thou deny it, wretched boy? Monarch, his coward lips have uttered falsehood. Speak, King of Tyre. IOLAUS Hear me speak first. Thou ruffian, Intriguer masking in a priest’s disguise, — POLYDAON Hear him, O King! CEPHEUS Speak calmly. I forbid All violence. Thou deniest then the charge?

Perseus the Deliverer IOLAUS As it was worded to me, I deny it. PHINEUS Syria, I have not spoken till this moment, And would not now, but sacred truth compels My tongue howe’er reluctant. I was there, And saw him rescue a wrecked mariner With his rash steel. Would that I had not seen it! IOLAUS Thou liest, Phineus, King of Tyre. CASSIOPEA Alas! If thou hast any pity for thy mother, Run not upon thy death in this fierce spirit, My child. Calmly repel the charge against thee, Nor thus offend thy brother. PHINEUS I am not angry. IOLAUS It was no shipwrecked weeping mariner, Condemned by the wild seas, whom they attempted, But a calm god or glorious hero who came By other way than man’s to Syria’s margin. Nor did rash steel or battle rescue him. With the mere dreadful waving of his shield He shook from him a hundred threatening lances, This hero hot from Tyre and this proud priest Now bold to bluster in his monarch’s chamber, But then a pallid coward, — so he trusts In his Poseidon!

Act II, Scene 1 POLYDAON Hast thou done? IOLAUS Not yet. That I drew forth my sword, is true, and true I would have rescued him from god or devil Had it been needed. POLYDAON Enough! He has confessed! Give verdict, King, and sentence. Let me watch Thy justice. CEPHEUS But this fault was not so deadly! POLYDAON I see thy drift, O King. Thou wouldst prefer Thy son to him who rules the earth and waters: Thou wouldst exalt thy throne above the temple, Setting the gods beneath thy feet. Fool, fool, Knowst thou not that the terrible Poseidon Can end thy house in one tremendous hour? Yield him one impious head which cannot live And he will give thee other and better children. Give sentence or be mad and perish. IOLAUS Father, Not for thy son’s, but for thy honour’s sake Resist him. ’Tis better to lose crown and life, Than rule the world because a priest allows it. POLYDAON Give sentence, King. I can no longer wait, Give sentence.

Perseus the Deliverer CEPHEUS (helplessly to Cassiopea) What shall I do? CASSIOPEA Monarch of Tyre, Thou choosest silence then, a pleased spectator? Thou hast bethought thee of other nuptials? PHINEUS Lady, You wrong my silence which was but your servant To find an issue from this dire impasse, Rescuing your child from wrath, justice not wounded. CASSIOPEA The issue lies in the accuser’s will, If putting malice by he’ld only seek Poseidon’s glory. PHINEUS The deed’s by all admitted, The law and bearing of it are in doubt. (to Polydaon) You urge a place is void and must be filled On great Poseidon’s altar, and demand Justly the guilty head of Iolaus. He did the fault, his head must ransom it. Let him fill up the void, who made the void. Nor will high heaven accept a guiltless head, To let the impious free. CASSIOPEA Phineus, — PHINEUS But if The victim lost return, you cannot then

Act II, Scene 1 Claim Iolaus; then there is no void For substitution. POLYDAON King, — PHINEUS The simpler fault With ransom can be easily excused And covered up in gold. Let him produce The fugitive. IOLAUS Tyrian, — PHINEUS I have not forgotten. Patience! You plead that your mysterious guest Being neither shipwrecked nor a mariner Comes not within the doom of law. Why then, Let Law decide that issue, not the sword Nor swift evasion! Dost thou fear the event Of thy great father’s sentence from that throne Where Justice sits with bright unsullied robe Judging the peoples? Calmly expect his doom Which errs not. CASSIOPEA Thou art a man noble indeed in counsel And fit to rule the nations. CEPHEUS I approve. You laugh, my son? IOLAUS I laugh to see wise men

Perseus the Deliverer Catching their feet in their own subtleties. King Phineus, wilt thou seize Olympian Zeus And call thy Tyrian smiths to forge his fetters? Or wilt thou claim the archer bright Apollo To meet thy human doom, priest Polydaon? ’Tis well; the danger’s yours. Give me three days And I’ll produce him. CEPHEUS Priest, art thou content? POLYDAON Exceed not thou the period by one day, Or tremble. CEPHEUS (rising) Happily decided. Rise My Cassiopea: now our hearts can rest From these alarms. Cepheus and Cassiopea leave the chamber. IOLAUS Keep thy knife sharp, sacrificant. King Phineus, I am grateful and advise Thy swift departure back to Tyre unmarried. He goes out. POLYDAON What hast thou done, King Phineus? All is ruined. PHINEUS What, have the stripling’s threats appalled thee, priest? POLYDAON Thou hast demanded a bright dreadful god For victim. We might have slain young Iolaus: Wilt thou slay him whose tasselled aegis smote

Act II, Scene 1 Terror into a hundred warriors? PHINEUS Priest, Thou art a superstitious fool. Believe not The gods come down to earth with swords and wings, Or transitory raiment made on looms, Or bodies visible to mortal eyes. Far otherwise they come, with unseen steps And stroke invisible, — if gods indeed There are. I doubt it, who can find no room For powers unseen: the world’s alive and moves By natural law without their intervention. POLYDAON King Phineus, doubt not the immortal gods. They love not doubters. If thou hadst lived as I, Daily devoted to the temple dimness, And seen the awful shapes that live in night, And heard the awful sounds that move at will When Ocean with the midnight is alone, Thou wouldst not doubt. Remember the dread portents High gods have sent on earth a hundred times When kings offended. PHINEUS Well, let them reign unquestioned Far from the earth in their too bright Olympus, So that they come not down to meddle here In what I purpose. For your aegis-bearer, Your winged and two-legged lion, he’s no god. You hurried me away or I’ld have probed His godlike guts with a good yard of steel To test the composition of his ichor. POLYDAON What of his flaming aegis lightning-tasselled?

Perseus the Deliverer What of his wing`ed sandals, King? PHINEUS The aegis? Some mechanism of refracted light. The wings? Some new aerial contrivance A luckier Daedalus may have invented. The Greeks are scientists unequalled, bold Experimenters, happy in invention. Nothing’s incredible that they devise, And this man, Polydaon, is a Greek. POLYDAON Have it your way. Say he was merely man! How do we profit by his blood? PHINEUS O marvellous! Thou hesitate to kill! thou seek for reasons! Is not blood always blood? I could not forfeit My right to marry young Andromeda; She is my claim to Syria. Leave something, priest, To Fortune, but be ready for her coming And grasp ere she escape. The old way’s best; Excite the commons, woo their thunderer, That plausible republican. Iolaus Once ended, by right of fair Andromeda I’ll save and wear the crown. Priest, over Syria And all my Tyrians thou shalt be the one prelate, Should all go well. POLYDAON All shall go well, King Phineus. They go.