Scene: The grove of Ceres on the right, a temple partly visible. The island of Ortygia in rear, separated from mainland by a very narrow channel with wall on the Ortygian side running off stage left, to channel bridge where the ensuing conflict is supposed to centre. The island extends down to the Lesser Harbor, centre rear, which widens to a sea-glimpse at right. On the island shore in the farthest distance is outlined the temple of Artemis. Part of the Ortygian castle is shown on an island, left, the lower part concealed by channel wall.
At extreme left, front, the entrance to Phillistus' dwelling is seen. Between dwelling and channel a road leads toward the bridge. At front of stage a road runs left toward the Greater Harbor, and right toward Epipolai, the outermost portion of the city.
On the right, toward rear, terraces lead up to the heights of Achridina. Various statues are seen, the largest being a Victory at entrance to grove. Off the stage, left front, over Greater Harbor, the sun is setting, throwing gradually softening tints and increasing shadows.
Troops of soldiers, laughing and talking with citizens in holiday costume, come up the road from the Greater Harbor and pass off toward Epipolai. Speusippus, Ascander, and Timoleon, enter from grove and stand near the Victory. At right front enter young men arrayed for banqueting, bearing wreaths, torches, etc. They turn to rear and pass up terraces toward Achridina, singing.
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Pan. Your wound, my lord.
Cal. Give valor space to breathe.
There'll be brave puffing ere the wall is down.
The channel banks it close, but we may breach it.
Speu. It must be done, and must, sir, captains may
In war.
Dion. Then to it! We waste breath.
Pan. Stay, sir!
We go—not you—for when our general bleeds
Each man afield bleeds with him. See, your wound!
By Thaumas' claw-foot maids, 'tis past a scratch!
Dion. I feel not this—but O, fair Syracuse!
Rock in thy fiery cradle till the sea
Gets up to weep, and bending gods pour down
Remorseful tears to drown the reddening shame
That blushes o'er the moon and writes the name
Of hell upon the stars!
[A sudden burst of noise and flame from the heights of Achridina]
Art gone, my city?...
Ah, fallen Dionysius, must thou
Lose all, then cast thy soul to swell the loss?
It is thy kingly reputation burns,
With all that thou mightst own in fair Elysium!
[Shouting, left]
Speu. The wall! the wall! They charge!
Pan. The stranger leads!
Ho, come, Speusippus!
Dion. On! on, on, my friends!
[Exeunt, left. The flames from Achridina die down. Semi-darkness. Men enter and creep about the blackened ruins. Soft light in the East]
First man. Now Ceres mend our bones! Will 't e'er be light?
Second man. Ay, yonder winks the dawn.
First man. This blindfold war
Is Horror past familiar—her leper cheek
Bowsing both cheeks like mistress privileged.
Third man. Gods keep us! Many a man has died this night
Upon his dear friend's sword. The treacherous torch
And threatening glare of flames too oft betrayed
The panic-glaz?d eye.
[Domenes rushes on from left. Speusippus following]
Second man. Ay,
The captain of the tyrant's guards. The Greek
Is on him!
Dom. Spare me! I'll give you news!
Speu. Live while your tongue wags. Speak! What of the fleet
From Italy?
Dom. All lost but one poor sail
That brings the desperate news. The tyrant mad
With this is bound for flight with what is left
Of Carthage.
Dom. She's in the castle—safe.
Speu. And flies with Dionysius? Speak, man!
Dom. She begs to stay, but he may force her off.
Speu. Then we must stop this play and take the castle!
Drag off! You're past all harm. [Going off, left] Now one charge more! [Exit]
[Light breaks over Lesser Harbor]
First man. O blessed Zeus! And yet I fear
The babe-eyed Dawn will sicken with what's here
And creep back into night.
Second man. No, day comes on,—
The red-capped nurse that in her bosom hides
The cherub Dawn, while her broad smile
Goes round the world.
Third man. A smile on this?
Second man. Ay, ay,
Her stomach's for all sights, and ulcerous earth
She'll kiss as close as fountain-laughing vales.
First man. By Ares' bloody dame, here's work enough
To keep the gods a year from holiday!
[Shouts without, left. Enter citizens and soldiers in joyful confusion]
Voices. 'Tis down! The wall is down! The castle's taken!
A voice. The tyrant has fled by sea!
Another. And none too soon!
Another. He'd pay his head else!
Cries without. Dion! Dion! Dion!
[Enter Dion with friends and citizens]
Dion. Shout not my name, for 'twas the noble stranger
Who won this night. Seek him, Calippus,—beg
His presence here with brow unhelmeted,
That we may look where valor hath her home.
Cal. Vanished, as the sea
Had lapped him up.
Dion. More like the gods have stooped
To draw him home again.
[Looks about at the desolation and groans]
Cal. Your wound, my lord?
Dion. No, no. I weep for dying Syracuse.
Now is her glory like a weary star