Act. Par. Never? Thou art angry! Act. Away! have I not cause enough for anger? Then must he hammer at the forge by night; And when the tillage rests, that cannot he, Par. Poor father! Act. Poor, poor, indeed! Then I remain at home, But thou, Act. So must I weep, and weep. Thou whom he loves, for whom he e'en would die, For whom he risks his blood, his limbs, his life, Thou, thou mightst spare him from all weariness, Mightst dry my tears, make happy our old age, Be so thyself. But no! thou canst, yet wilt not. Go, go, thou selfish and ungrateful child! [Exit into house Par. [After a pause.] Ungrateful! no, ye gods, that am I not. Ungrateful to my father! No! and yet For me does the rough storm beat on his head; And once the future lay so bright before me: There shone the scarce-form'd hope, the mystic joy; Let all be fancy, love be but a dream ; All is a fable that adorns our life, And but the passing day alone is real! Well, be it so. Parthenia wakes to duty! And now, sweet visions of my youth, farewell! Shall rest. Ah! who comes here? 'tis Polydor! I'll fly, yet no! I will remain: if my happiness Must be put up for sale, then let the price Be well secured for which I barter it. What looks he? And I his wife. [Pauses pride, ill-temper, avarice, Enter POLYDOR. she sits to work. Pol. [Soliloquizing.] This will not do, the slave impover ishes me; There is no doing without a wife, it must be. Par. [Aside.] Does he not look as though he had the weight O' the world upon his thoughts? and yet I wager He only thinks on pigs and geese. Pol. Nothing replaces Kallinike to me: She was a true heart, she could work, could save! [Approaching and addressing PARTHENIA Good day, fair maid. Good day! Par. Say, rather, evening, while the Sun is sinking. Pol. Can it be evening while thy bright eyes shine? Par. Away, sir, with fine words! we will speak plainly. They tell me you propose to marry me. Pol. Ah! that is plain, that's coming to the point. Alas! her fond impatience cannot wait. Par. My mother told me so: and yet I wonder Pol. Forgotten? No, indeed; a man like me Par. Ay, poor orphans! Pol. Poor they are not; but they are troublesome, Shall I, at great expense, hire a schoolmaster Best rules rough strength, and thou indeed art gentle. Led to the sacrifice. Pol. Besides, I'm often far from home; my business Now calls me to the market, now to the harbour: And shall a slave meanwhile keep house for me, And farm, and warehouse? guard my well-fill'd coffers? And then, too, I grow old, am often sick: And who would tend me then? make ready for me Par. "O, my poor heart! Pol. 'Tis thou shalt be that wife, and thou shalt make me Strong, young again; thy love, my pretty rosebud,— Par. Away! and listen now to me: Thou know'st my father tills the fields by day, And at the anvil works by night, and then Upon his shoulders carries to a distance And wants repose: say, then, when I am thine,- Pol. Ay, certainly I will; how could I otherwise? Yes, yes, I will, — I will think of thy father. Par. And do? what wilt thou do for him? Pol. O, he shall be advanced, for he will be My father-in-law, the father-in-law of Polydor, Of the rich Polydor; and from the gods My lineage springs: Think what an honour; from the gods, my child! Par. But honour gives not food: what wilt thou do? Par. At a good price! —That is, good for thyself. Pol. What more! Why, then again, then will I— I'll take thee, ay, without a drachma ! Par. But what do for my father? To do? and plenty, too, I think. Par. Is not that No more? Pol. No more! almost too much. Par. By all the gods, yes, it is quite too much ; And so, good evening. [Going Pol. No, stay,—thou shalt not go without an answer. Par. An answer thou shalt have, and mark it well: Procure your children, sir, a schoolmaster At any price, and whence you please; a slave This is my answer, thou poor, heartless miser! So fare thee well, descendant of the gods! [Exit into house. Pol. [Standing looking after her for a time.] What's [Exit. ACT II. SCENE I. The camp of the Alemanni in the Cevennes Mountain. CHARACTERS: INGOMAR, the barbarian and chief of the Alemanni; PARTHENIA, who has given up herself to the barbarians as a ransom for her father, MYRON. MYRON has been sent back to Massilia, whence he was captured; and, as he is forced along amid the jeers and taunts of the Alemanni, PARTHENIA looks toward him, and speaks: Par. O, I shall never see him more! For a silly old man, got now a foolish What! have we And timid weeping girl? I've had enough Of tears. Par. I will not, Enough, indeed, since you but mock them! no, I'll weep no more. [She quickly dries her eyes, and retires to the background Ing. That's good; come, that looks well: She's a brave girl! she rules herself, and, if |