known to you, by report at least, with what devotion these half-Greeks worship the fair. From the chase to the goblet from the goblet to the dame from the dame to the chase again. Such is the everlasting circle of their joys. Twice had King Seuthes proffered Alcibiades the loveliest damsels of his court. Twice had he refused the gift. Tim. Refused! Refused them! By the Doves of Venus! a piece of continence incomprehensible in him. Dioph. So thought we Grecians too. All the Thracians stared at one another, wondering whether this were virtue or disdain. On the third day, as we were resting a while from the chase, the king's nephew-his successor, perhaps, since Seuthes is childless began with a smile :-" In all things, hitherto, has Alcibiades conquered us; showing that the liar Fame spoke truth for once, when she rumoured him the first of Greeks. One thing only I am still curious to know."" Which is?"-" Whether our damsels think as favourably of him as those of Athens did of yore." "No wonder," replied the Son of Clinias, with a modest air, " if they thought otherwise. Many a south wind, and many a north, have blown over my hair and cheek since thenmaking the one whiter and the other browner. And yet it lies entirely in thy choice to prove what even in this respect my guardian genius has done for me." Tim. Ah, the traitor! He knew but too well how little he risked in the trial! I could almost-almost bid thee hold thy peace, to spare me the shock I see is coming. Dioph. This once, perhaps, you see too fast. My story ends differently from what you might believe. Tim. Really?-O then end it, end it! Dioph. We all demanded eagerly what proof he meant. He put us off with one jest and another. But when King Seuthes himself, at the renewed banquet, questioned him:-" Well then," he answered, " bind the beauties of your court by a solemn oath to speak the truth. Then let each of them mark upon a tablet the name of him who, if her choice were free, should be her chosen cavalier. 'Tis a dangerous sort of ostracism after all, and very possibly a fatal one for me. But what will one not venture for the sake of one's curious friends?" A burst of laughter thanked him for this goodhumoured proposal. Now, guess yourself, Timandra, how many, out of fifteen maids and matrons after a world of blushing, smirking, and shamming modesty-at last, with trembling fingers, traced out the name of your favourite? Tim. The half of them at least. Dioph. More yet! Thirteen wrote down his name. The two exceptions were the queen, and a bride of the day before. The envious murmurs of the men could hardly be restrained. Their lips just muttered a curse; their eyes flashed daggers. He alone, who seems to have made a league with calmness, and a perpetual truce with fear, looked round him with a quiet glance. "Let none of my friends be disconcerted!" he said; "let none apprehend from me the loss of his loved one! This manifold attachment affects me too deeply to let me offend any of these beauties by the choice of her sister. Let equality since preference is impossible-be the lot of all; and to part-dear as it will cost me be my duty!" And so he left the chamber, before our astonishment could vent itself in words. Tim. (After a short pause). May my hair turn to the locks of Medusa, if there be not some mystery in this! He!-Ha, He play the continent! by the immortals, more insatiate than he are scarce the ocean and the grave; and now (shaking her head)-had you really no suspicion, no trace of any trick? Speak, Diophantes, speak openly with me! Dioph. Suspicion enough, and yet not one clear ground for positive conjecture. His tone was strange enough. I have heard the same from him when his words had a covert meaning. But what? That continued dark to me and all. Tim. O thou art dissembling !— dissembling to thine own loss. Discover to me more!-Discover to me all! And thy reward Alc. (from the next room, while he springs laughing from his bed). Nay, fair Timandra, 'tis impossible for Diophantes, much as he may wish it, to earn the reward this time! To me, to me alone, must you betake yourself, if you would learn the rest. Tim. (at first a little embarrassed, but soon recovering herself). You confess then there is something still to learn? Alc. (Entering the apartment). O yes, and the best of it all, if I mistake not. Thirteen of thy sex-my herald has already told thee so -thirteen wrote down as heart and oath constrained them; but know, even of the two that traced a different name, one at least was forsworn. Tim. How? Alc. My virtue seemed to thee unaccountable? Say, could one make choice out of the court of King Seuthes, when the Queen herself Tim. (with emotion). The Queen herself! The wife of Seuthes!- Lycoris, so renowned for charms and chastity! Alc. Herself!-(Jeeringly). Dost comprehend now, good Diophantes, the meaning of my tone, and of the reverential salutation, with which I honoured the Queen as I departed? Dost thou remember the blush, with which she thanked me then, and for my toast the day before? Dioph. (striking his forehead). Where were my eyes not to see it? Where my penetration not to fathom it? Alc. I know not, unless both eyes and mind were too full of the image of Timandra. The two years spent by Alcibiades in Thrace were not barren of events. How could they, where he was an actor? But he, whom we have followed through great wars with Sparta, Athens, Persia, need hardly be exhibited victorious over half-barbarous hordes. Yet fain would we put off the final scene, the inevitable catastrophe. "The precious hour of parting lingers still." Let us take one more conversation with Timandra; and if the opening soliloquy remind you of a grand passage in Schiller's Robbers," all that can be said is, that two people happened to hit on the same thought. And Schiller made use of it last, that's all." SCENE XXII. ALCIBIADES (at an open Window). Alc. (while the sun is rising). Beautiful even here! Even in thy rising over Thracia's rugged peaks the fountain of life and light! Hailed by the choir of birds-encircled by clouds of gold fair as a bride, and fiery as a bridegroom! (A long pause,—his ardent look grows grave). THEE to resemble-THEE!-that was the very boy's first wish and proud design. Through every vicissitude of fortune, amid the glitter of prosperity, above the tempests of mischance, to maintain an undecaying splendour; to be alone among men, as thou in the universe-this, this was my purposebold and hard to be achieved, but not at least unworthy. (Another long pause). And have I fulfilled it until now? Fulfilled it !In the eyes, perhaps, of my fellow-mortals. But in TIMANDRA (asleep on a Couch). mine own?-Not 'one of thy beams, thou incomprehensible glory! not one issues from thee in vain. On what have a thousand of my energies been squandered ? On what- -nay! nay! away from the abyss of recollections ! I tremble at the depth beneath.—O Pericles!-O Socrates ! Socrates! Did ye ever feel like this? Tim. (still half asleep). What ails thee, beloved? Didst call on me? (Rousing herself). What! thou already awake? Alc. Already. And have been for a long time. Tim. And why so long? I knew not of any urgent business. Alc. O, for years there have been certain days that weigh heavier on me than any business. On these Tim. Hold there, Son of Clinias! That speech begins exactly like the one with which you bade farewell to Dionea-the only dame on whom I sometimes think with jealousy. Am I also to tremble? now. very question there lurks reproach? Tim. As plain as the vanity in thy reply. Alc. Wo to poor Homer, and to all the poets of the olden time, if the expounders interpret their meaning no better than thou mine! Yet, why should I deny, that on many passages of my career, I look back with gladness-on some with a feeling which stern censors might entitle pride? And still a single point of my life, a single one, will often make compla cency and self-congratulation vanish, and force me, amid hurraing crowds, to think-ONE voice is wanting here ; and more than a thousand heralds would that voice be worth. Alc. Tremble not! Never was I less inclined to such a parting than Yet it is true, beloved Timandra, days of a certain kind have for me something so awful, so disquieting, that I myself cannot comprehend it. A tempest rages in my blood; a deep gloom overspreads my imagination. At every stone that falls, at every helmet that glitters, at every cloud that lowers or breaks, my soul begins to spin the thread of its thick arising fancies; a visionary thread, but one which often stretches further than the Tim. Ha! the living image of real one that rescued Theseus-while AMBITION ! Nine-and-ninety bow it involves me in a labyrinth, instead of themselves to earth before him he guiding me out of its windings. regards only the hundredth, who Tim. Dreamer ! And is it one of omitted the homage. Half-a-world these days to-day? Alc. Ay!-and not without a cause. With this day my fortieth year fleets away, whither all the rest have flown irrevocably. After many of these fugitives I have gazed attentively enough; but after none so thoughtfully as this. Tim. And wherefore? Alc. O, 'tis a momentous year this fortieth! the middle point of even the most protracted life. To-day, methinks, I resemble some wayfaring man, who has long toiled up hill-his eye fixed upon the summit. At last he turns him round, and, lo! before him lies, in renovated tints, each scene he wandered through-every green tract, that called forth his smiles every steep pass and trembling quagmire, through which he strained with pain and fear. Now, for the first time, he perceives where he made his deviations-where he chose the rougher path-where he might have rested in a grateful shade, and forgot to do it. Displeased, he shakes his head; and yet 'tis a solace to mark that his view has been often clear, and his route well chosen-to remember how swift have been his steps-how many hazards he has conquered how high he has attained. The comparison may be old; but I feel that it is true for me. Tim. And may I venture to ask which emotion is the strongest on thy retrospect contentment or regret? Alc. Dost thou know, that in thy : had Cyrus already conquered; but even for the deserts of the Scythian Queen his insatiable spirit lusted still. Alc. A flattering allusion! There have been moments in my being when it would have been sufficiently appropriate; but for the present thou dost me wrong. If I ever had an honest grief, an emotion of my soul derived from a pure source, it must be that which has often already swelled with in me, and now more overpoweringly than ever.-(With great warth). O, take away one stain-but onefrom my life, and boldly will I meet the Arcopagus of future judgment, or even an Egyptian tribunal for the dead! Tim. (with increasing earnestness). And this point-this stain ? My curiosity mounts higher and higher. Appease it, I beseech thee. Alc. (smiling). Exert thy faculties, and guess. Tim. The aspects of thy life are too manifold for one to display itself pre-eminent above the rest. Was it, peradventure, thy faithlessness towards my sex? Alc. (laughing loud). Ha! excellent!-to see how every one supposes what concerns himself to be the weightiest thing for others! No, Timandra; as to trifles of that description my conscience is perfectly easy. Tim. (offended). Then it was never so with more injustice! Canst thou reckon up the crimes, the frauds, the perjuries that lie upon thy soul? Dost thou count as nought the remorse of the corrupted, the curses of the deceived, the tears of the forsaken, the Alc. (interrupting her). Gently, gently, good Timandra! Thou art speaking in thine own cause, and, in such cases, exaggeration is an epidemic malady.Deceived or Deceiver! Such is the eternal rule in playing the game with you. With the first spark of life Prometheus breathed love into our hearts; and in the same moment Venus herself prescribed this law, which will endure as long as the difference of sexes. Tim. Admirable indeed! Wonderfully witty and keen! Alc. Nay, nay! Only true, and nothing more!However I myself, I deny it not, did at first occasionally fret and feel unhappy about the sighs of a Nais, the tears of a Glycerium, the mild and moping melancholy of a deserted Dionea. But when I weigh ed the benefits I had heaped on them against the injuries; the blissful moments I had given them-the requited tenderness of their passion the flattered pride of their womanhood ;— when I reflected on the facility with which you console yourselves, the charm you find in variety, the necessity that one of the two parties should be the first to cool-tranquil, tranquil then became my spirit, and I betook myself, with benevolent eagerness, to the task of blessing a new object. Tim. Of blessing!-Odious mocker! Insupportable vanity! a Alc. (offering his hand with smile). And yet beloved of thee!-Is it not so?-Ö ye yourselves love not those deities ye can only adore and never rail at!-Mark me, Timandra! Were the intercourse with thy sex to be my cause of condemnation-the burning spot upon my soul-'twould tell much heavier against me in another point of view. That the man, on whose yes or no, in the assembly of the people, the fate of Greece has oftimes hung; who has oftimes held in his sole hands the weal or wo of his country--that this man should have often withdrawn himself too soon from council, in order to sink the sooner in a maiden's arms; should have often made the people wait on him for hours, in order to luxuriate longer on a bed of roses; should have often, in the embrace of a Timandra, wellnigh forgotten that there were such places as Sparta and Argos, Miletus and Persepolis;-by the gods! on seasons like to-day, a self-reproach of this kind will often rise out of the abyss of the past, and would press too hard upon me, were it not for the consoling thought, that nature designed to make in me the perfect model of man as well as hero. Of Miltiadeses, who beat their enemies; of Themistocleses, who saved their country; of individuals great in war, and noble in peace, we had already our full share. From all these the Son of Clinias was meant to be distinguished-by his weakness no less than by his strength. Tim. A very peculiar sort of consolation! From flowers you suck poison; but from rocks you squeeze out honey. Truly, if on every article of accusation you choose to play selfadvocate with like adroitness, it will be more than ever a puzzle to me to guess what can be giving uneasiness to so tender a conscience.-(Reflects for a few seconds). Is it, perchance, the war with Sicily, in which you, and you alone, plunged your country? Alc. Indubitably not! On that I still look as the crowning point of my youthful enterprises-the most speaking proof that Pericles bequeathed me his spirit. Tim. But was it not this war inflicted wounds on Athens that are bleeding still? Was it not in this that thousands of thy brethren fell-unrevenged-unburied to this hour? Was it not this prepared the way for Sparta's victories, and made the Athenian rule be feared and hated by universal Greece? Alc. It did all this. It was more pernicious to my country than the plague that cut off Pericles. But mark you, not through my fault! I had promised the Athenians success and glory; I would have heaped upon them both; but I included myself in the bargain. The blame of subsequent reverses the seas of wasted blood-O cast that load on those who tore me from the arms of victory! They, because a few square blocks were chipped by scoundrels-because Alcibiades the Man. the heads of lifeless images were defaced by rioters-they sought to strike her living head from Athens; they hoped to shroud their envy in religion-their spite beneath a cloak of pious frenzy-they-O think on them no more, my soul! Mine already was Messena-mine, in a few moons thereafter, Syracuse! Mounted were the first steps of a renown that soared into infinitude of a power that would have thundered laws o'er every sea and land! Tim. It may be, then, that advice Alc. (interrupting her with some Tim. Dost thou mean SOCRATES? Alc. Whom else could I mean? Tim. Indeed! Twofold bright thine eyes are sparkling, thy more cheeks are glowing Alc. And sevenfold more strongly beats my heart!-Mark me, Timandra; I can forgive thee, if thou laughest at the heat with which I name the son of Sophroniscus ; since thou knowest his outward form alone, and nature has made that hideous. But O, he is like those wooden figures of Silenus, ugly and unseemly to behold without, but full within of the fairest images of gods. His words sound common to the ear, but enshrined in them lies all that wisdom has of the beautiful, and virtue of the godlike. Tim. Who doubts that? Only how does it apply just here: VOL. XLI. NO, CCLV. 65 Alc. Apply just here? Know you not that I was once his scholar? Tim. Methought his favourite too. When I bethink me of that of how Alc. His scholar and his favourite! my soul used to hang upon his lips— how, as he spoke, my heart would how often I shed tears of anguish dance like some frenzied Corybantwhen I compared myself with him, and so more strongly felt my worthlessness-when I remember the befaults and governed my frivolity ;nignity with which he endured my siren-satyr-my mouth yet owes the when I confess that to him-to this best part of its eloquence, as my mind does all its knowledge,-O, then, then peals a voice in my inner ear. Inconstant! wherefore didst thou spurn so Wherefore didst thou pluck, with soon the choicest gift of heaven? thine own hand, out of thy life's golden ring, a jewel of such sumless value? That man, whom Apollo thee his disciple—and thou left'st him counted wise-that man once owned for the sake of an— —Aspasia! Tim. (somewhat surprised). For dite, an exchange that seems not altothe sake of an Aspasia! By Aphrothe praises you have so often lavished gether so bad!-Do you forget to-day on her head? ; Alc. Not lavished! I only paid her the foremost woman in all Athens due. She was when I won her love worthy of any sacrifice-but the friendship of Socrates! Kingdoms I might have spurned for her, without fault, without remorse-but not the man who would have been my pride and through life!—O Timandra, you know happiness, my guardian and guide the glance of this eye. No foe has ever yet traced fear in it, no antagoI returned home from victory-when nist embarrassment; but often, when the maidens were showering on me garlands-and the hurras of the sailors were resounding-and my eyes thronging multitude of flatterers and were looking proudly round upon the enviers, transported friends and abashed enemies and suddenly they lighted stood afar, full of a magnanimity no upon HIM-the kind old man-as he tinsel can impose on, a contentment that envies no purple, a celestial wisdom that ranks him with the demigods-O then, then has the tint of E |