Let’s to the river and skip oyster-shells,
Or sail our galleys!
MAXIMUS.
In the stadion
I’m all for diskos-throwing, sprinting. Come,
A trial race! [_To DION._]
DION.
[_Agreeing._]
I’m with you!
[_The two athletes, DION and MAXIMUS strip off
their outer garments, throw these down, under
the tree._]
SERAPÍON.
[_A small boy, with a slight limp._]
O Dion, brother! Let me come with you!
DION.
Too small is Serapíon, and too lame!...
Ready, Maximus?
MAXIMUS.
Ready!
[_They stand ready to start. The OTHERS give
the signal, “One, Two, Three, Off!” and they
run off._]
SERAPÍON.
Always too little, and too lame! Ah, well:
My Æsop’s fables must I learn by heart!
[_He walks apart, trying to recall his lesson._]
“A nightingale did sing ... did sing ... sing ... sing....
When hungry hawk ... when hungry hawk....”
MALCHUS.
Here, let’s play knucklebones!
[_The OTHERS assent, crying, “Knucklebones!”_]
Or, better: flipcoin!
IOANNES.
But that’s forbidden!
MALCHUS.
What of that? No one
Is looking! Sleeps authority.
[_Pointing to the CENTURION who is snoring
slightly. They laugh, tickle his ear with a
spear of grass. He brushes this aside, saying,
“Shoo, fly!” The BOYS, feeling safe, sit on
the ground, and prepare to play flipcoin._]
MAXIMUS.
See, here’s a Roman piece. Who matches me?
Ioannes, you? [_IOANNES shakes his head._] What now? Afraid to lose?
IOANNES.
[_With some heat._]
You know it is not so, Malchus. My word
I passed I would not!
MALCHUS.
You’re too good
To live! Martinus, then?
MARTINUS.
[_Shakes head, refusing._]
No money!
MALCHUS.
Eh?
What’s that? A tetradrachm!
[_Pointing to a coin MARTINUS has been clutching,
and now tosses up and catches nimbly._]
MARTINUS.
[_Explains._]
’Tis for a loaf
Of bread. My mother bade me careful be
To count the change!... Ah, well; no harm to stake
A little sum against a large one!
MALCHUS.
Good!
Then.... Heads or ships!
MARTINUS.
Ships!
MALCHUS.
Heads it is! You lose!
MARTINUS.
[_Suddenly realising what he has done._]
I’ve lost! Oh, oh!
MALCHUS.
[_With some heat._]
Well, stood you not to lose or win?
MARTINUS.
True! Oh, fair play was it! ’Twas fairly won!
Not fairly lost, though. Since not mine was it
To play with! [_To himself, bitterly._]
IOANNES.
Look! Here come the racers! Mark
How Dion leads!
[_ALL run to watch the two runners as they
approach, crying, “Well run! Good Dion! Good
old Maximus!” etc._]
MAXIMUS.
Again! Again ’tis Dion’s victory!
DION.
To-morrow better luck for Maximus!
[_They dress themselves assisted by the OTHERS.
Voices are heard approaching._]
IOANNES.
Here comes Didaskalos! A stranger-friend
He shows the sights! Now hearken to him prate
As owned he city, mountain, view, and all!
[_Enter the SCHOOLMASTER with THE FRIEND. The
BOYS hide._]
THE SCHOOLMASTER.
Here panoramic spreads itself a view
Of Ephesos, our city fair of fame....
THE BOYS.
[_Put their heads forth reciting._]
By Greek-Ionians founded. Subjugate
By Persian satrap, Great Aléxandros
Of Macedon, in turn; and finally
By Romans!
THE SCHOOLMASTER.
Eh? Who speaks?
THE BOYS.
[_Showing themselves._]
We echo you,
Didaskalos!
[_They laugh, and hide again as he threatens
them._]
THE SCHOOLMASTER.
[_Angrily._]
The rascals!
THE FRIEND.
[_Smiling._]
Well they know
Their history!
THE SCHOOLMASTER.
[_Propitiated, continues to point out the
sights._]
Mount Prion, yonder, twin
To Kóressos here, limestone famed. Mark well
The valley-sweep between!... The city-gates
Within you see the agora, buildings
Municipal; and at Kaÿstros’ mouth
Our sally-port!... Odeîon! Library!
Theatre which seats about three thousand!
And churches of Saints Peter, Paul and John!
THE FRIEND.
And yon, those ruins of a grandeur passed,
Still splendid, awe-inspiring ... aye, sublime...?
THE SCHOOLMASTER.
[_Shocked._]
Good friend ... a pagan temple, justly razed....
THE PRIEST.
[_Who has been sitting, making notes on
his tablets, starts up and joins in
the discussion._]
Not razed yet low enough! Not stone on stone
Should still be standing, were the city keen
On matters sacred as on secular!
[_The FRIEND looks from one to the other for
explanation._]
THE SCHOOLMASTER.
Yon ruins mark the one-time templed site
Of Artemis....
THE PRIEST.
[_Taking the words from him._]
In days of error, now
Thank Heaven, passed! the city’s tutelar!
THE SCHOOLMASTER.
[_Trying to continue his lecture._]
No kin to Græco-Roman Artemis,
But Asian, autochthonic, to be classed
With nature-worship idols!
THE BOYS.
Ahem! Hear, hear!
More information, pray, Didaskalos!
THE SCHOOLMASTER.
[_Threatening them._]
Rascals! Wait till I get you in the classroom!
THE FRIEND.
How beautiful! There never was a time
When heart of man aloof from worship stood;
No age so dark but best of hand and brain
To temple-rearing has been consecrate!
Receive, O ruined fane, my homage!
[_He bows toward the TEMPLE._]
THE TWO OTHERS.
[_Shocked._]
What!
Some heretic is this?
THE SCHOOLMASTER.
You called yourself,
Methought, a student of divinity!
THE FRIEND.
[_Bowing assent._]
Therefore see spark divine wherever burns
An altar-flame in any human breast!
THE PRIEST.
[_Returning to his work._]
Such laxity ... I doubt he’s orthodox!
SCHOOLMASTER.
[_To the FRIEND._]
Shall we be going?... Ouch! My toe I stubbed!
[_He kicks a small object, lying among the
rubble, and suddenly arrested by some
peculiarity in its appearance, stoops
and picks it up._]
What’s this? Upon my word, a silver shrine ...
[_He dusts off the object._]
An Artemis ... and dated, A. U. C.... [_Reckons, mentally._]
A century and half a century
Would take us back to, let me see ... whose reign?
THE BOYS.
[_Appearing, deride him._]
Ha, ha, Didaskalos! Oh, dunce, forget you thus your tables?
I’ll birch you, when I get you in the classroom! Wait and see!
THE SCHOOLMASTER.
Rascals!... The reign of Decius! That’s it!
[_He brushes off more dust to examine the
shrine._]
Made by Demetrios....
THE PRIEST.
[_Who has come to look._]
Not the Demetrios of Paulos’ time!
Not by two centuries!
THE SCHOOLMASTER.
Generic name,
In Ephesos, for silversmiths! A find
Indeed! [_Holds up the shrine._] My name as antiquarian
’Twill render known!
THE PRIEST.
It should be exorcised
As heathen trash, and cast into the fire!
THE FRIEND.
[_Protesting mildly._]
Someone once held it sacred! Still a form
Of beauty is it!
THE BOYS.
[_Capering about._]
“Great is Artemis! Great is Ephesian Artemis!
O great is Artemis of the Ephesians!”
THE PRIEST.
What sinful words are these?
THE BOYS.
’Tis history
We quote! You ask Didaskalos!
THE SCHOOLMASTER.
Rascals!
I’ll birch you well to-morrow! Just you see!
THE PRIEST.
My birching will not keep! Till orthodox
And proper Christians do they show themselves
I’ll thrash them black and blue!
[_He and the SCHOOLMASTER chase the BOYS._]
THE CENTURION.
[_Waking._]
How now! How now!
What’s this disturbance! Who is chasing whom
And wherefore? Or is ’t some game you play?
[_To the PRIEST and the SCHOOLMASTER, who are
highly disgusted at the question._]
THE PRIEST.
Some game, forsooth!
THE SCHOOLMASTER.
Instead of swelling out
Your chest to show your medals, why not use
Your vine-rod on those boys!
THE CENTURION.
Boys! Show me boys
To use my vine-rod on and I will use
My vine-rod on those boys!
[_They look about for the BOYS who, needless to
say, have profited by this dispute to vanish._]
THE BOYS.
[_Appear on a height, and shout._]
Sanctuary! Sanctuary! Come, catch us, an you dare!
[_Again they disappear as the three make a feint
of pursuing them._]
THE CENTURION.
Too tender of them are you!
THE SCHOOLMASTER.
[_Unable to believe his ears._]
I?
THE PRIEST.
[_Equally amazed._]
I?
THE CENTURION.
Aye!
THE FRIEND.
[_With great kindliness._]
Young, growing creatures, full of living’s joy,
O be not hard on them!
THE CENTURION.
Said Solomon,
The vine-rod spare, the birch-twig spare, and spoil
The schoolboy and the Christian! Mark you, so
Said Solomon! [_He stalks off with great majesty._]
[_THE OVERSEER and THE SLAVES now return. The
former, by gesture, indicates that the work of
quarrying is to be resumed. THE YOUNG SLAVE
gives one blow to the side of the rock, then
throws down his tools._]
THE YOUNG SLAVE.
So far I work. No farther. Not one stroke!
THE OTHER SLAVES.
So I!—I follow his example!—I
Also! The word we stand by! All! Aye, all!
THE OVERSEER.
[_Furious._]
Accurséd dogs! But one more stone we need!
But one! [_Changing to a placative tone._] One!
THE YOUNG SLAVE.
Quarry it yourself, then!... Here!
[_Offers the OVERSEER his pick._]
THE OVERSEER.
An extra dole of corn, measure of wine
Compliance shall reward!
THE YOUNG SLAVE.
Bribes tempt us not,
Nor threats affright!
[_The OTHER SLAVES assent._]
THE OVERSEER.
[_Calls._]
Centurion! What ho!
THE CENTURION.
[_Enters._]
Who calls, and wherefore?... What; these slaves refuse
The pick and axe?... Well, are you wool-weavers,
Or bakers, even, that a guild you form?
Or fishmongers who would run up the cost
Of living? Now, by Hercules ... I mean,
By Heaven, freedmen do you think yourselves
Daring to hold opinions of your own! [_With scathing sarcasm._]
THE CONTRACTOR.
[_Hastens on._]
Why this delay? What’s happening? The slaves
Leagued in rebellion!... Cut them into strips!
[_Voices are heard of people approaching. A
crowd gathers. There is great general
excitement._]
BYSTANDERS.
[_Cry._]
Soldiers! Here come the townclerk, magistrate!
[_Enter SOLDIERS, TOWNCLERK, MAGISTRATE and
others._]
THE TOWNCLERK.
[_Arriving first, and stuttering with
excitement._]
Wh-what’s the matter? [_He grasps the situation._]
What, a gang of slaves
Their will asserting? Know you not no will
You have, hence how may ye assert it? [_To the SLAVES._] Eh? Answer
me that!
THE MAGISTRATE.
[_Arriving, pompously._]
Am I to understand...?
THE CENTURION.
[_Interrupting._]
Precisely, Magistrate! You are to understand....
That is to say, if understand you can! My understanding,
I confess, it passes, that dogs who are not citizens
should so defy the might of Rome! [_Indicating himself._]
THE MAGISTRATE.
Breath’s wasted! Seize them; bind them. Send a score
To take their place! [_THE SOLDIERS prepare to obey._]
THE YOUNG SLAVE.
Bind, torture us! In vain!
Aye, crucify us! All in vain! You’ll find
No one in Ephesos our place to take!
[_This produces a sensation. The SOLDIERS shrink
from obeying orders to seize the SLAVES._]
THE MAGISTRATE.
[_Hands upraised in consternation._]
With Cæsar here in town ... Great Cæsar’s self ...
Blest Theodosius here the feast to bless!
THE PRIEST.
The resting place to bless of Paulos ... he who came
To preach ... to preach ... [_Referring to tablets_] ... to preach ...
THE SCHOOLMASTER.
My speech his life rehearses. “He who came
To preach ... to preach ... [_Referring to tablets_] to preach....”
THE MAGISTRATE.
[_To the CENTURION._]
We waste the day! Example make of these!
We’ll test if others will not take their place!
THE PRIEST.
And be accurséd! Let the Church’s curse
Fall on who shame our city, Christian heart
Of Christian-empired Rome.
AN OLD SLAVE WOMAN.
[_Wailing._]
Oh, my little one! My daughter’s child ... Son to mine old age ...
Oh, take him not away! [_She tries to make her way to the YOUNG
SLAVE._] So good a lad and dutiful ... my Constantine! See, now,
masters ... named for that great emperor who set the cross above
our city gates ... and now you take him from me! Constantine ...
would I might suffer in your stead!
THE MAGISTRATE.
Remove the woman!
[_SOLDIERS force her back._]
THE YOUNG SLAVE.
There, good mother, hush! [_Soothingly._]
This deed the mountain’s self will yet avenge!
[_The other SLAVES assent._]
THE FRIEND.
[_Steps forward._]
Pardon. A word I’d venture, by your leave! [_To the MAGISTRATE._]
THE TOWNCLERK.
Your name, young man?
THE CENTURION.
[_Glad of something to do._]
The townclerk asks your name!
THE FRIEND.
Unknown, a stranger, matters not. A friend!
These faithful souls, all trembling, ill with fear—
What bodes it?
[_The SLAVES all turn to him intuitively, with
hope and trust._]
THE MAGISTRATE.
[_Impatiently._]
That, who knows or cares to know!
THE FRIEND.
Ah, pardon me! A Christian land methought
You called this!
ALL.
[_Indignant._]
As it is!
THE PRIEST.
Have you not marked
The cross above each city gate? And hear you not
The chanted Glorias! [_The chants are heard in the distance._]
Prepare we not
A tomb for sacred Apostolic bones!
What infidel denies our faith?
[_This creates a reaction against the FRIEND._]
THE FRIEND.
In name
Of Christos, too, my country far away
Is signed. Strange customs, though, with us obtain.
A slave, the meaner is his task and hard,
The lowlier his spirit, so his rank
We hold exalted!
[_This causes amusement to some, but interests
all. The SLAVES reach their hands toward the
FRIEND who continues._]
By oppression crushed
His heart? With love we seek to heal it, arm
Anew with hope! His wealth who gives away
To feed God’s poor our richest citizen
We count! To dry the tears of sorrow kings
Contend! Our rod of empire is the rule—
The golden rule—Judge none, while loving all!
[_This produces a great effect on all, and for
a moment there is silence, broken by_]
THE SCHOOLMASTER.
Where lies this country, pray? Geography,
As I have learned it, teach it, knows it not!
THE PRIEST.
[_Slightly dazed._]
Strange! As in dreams ... Where have I heard
A land
Where kindness rules and service is but love!
SEVERAL.
[_With hands to head, seeking to recall._]
I too have heard ... Where is that country, now
Where kindness rules and service is but love?
THE MAGISTRATE.
[_With irony._]
Since order in your land, it seems, prevails,
Without so much as clash and show of arms,
How bring you sullen dogs like these to time?
With kindness?
THE FRIEND.
Give you leave that I may try?
[_The CROWD favour this, but the OFFICIALS demur,
conferring apart. Finally they decide to try
the experiment._]
THE MAGISTRATE.
[_With a wave of the hand._]
’Tis Eastertide. Such pleasantry will feed
The holidaying humour of the crowd!
[_ALL watch with deepest interest, some hoping
the FRIEND will fail, others in sympathy with
him._]
THE FRIEND.
[_To the SLAVES._]
Friends, brothers, weary are ye? Sit, then!
[_This provokes a murmur of incredulity from
the SLAVES._]
Come,
Your welcome gather from the kindly looks
Of these, the city fathers! Hungry, ye?
Athirst?... Here’s bread ... and fruit, and wine ...
And gentle hands to minister!
[_The SLAVES sit, and the FRIEND signs to the
HOLIDAY-MAKERS who, obeying, hasten to open
their baskets, and bring forth their stores,
waiting with kindest solicitude on their
wants._]
’Tis well!
Feast not as almoners, but guests who share
The blessedness of hospitality!
THE MAGISTRATE.
[_Working himself up._]
If Babylonian sorcerer he prove
Alive shall he be flayed, his skin nailed up
On the Cathedral door!
THE CONTRACTOR.
Oh, stay your hand
Till by his arts the work is finished!
THE MAGISTRATE.
[_With growing uneasiness._]
But
Who is the man?... ’Twas you who brought him! [_To the SCHOOLMASTER._]
THE SCHOOLMASTER.
[_Disclaiming responsibility._]
Oh,
Not I his bondsman! Student, said he; once
A carpenter’s apprentice, from some spot
Beyond the Lake of Galilee!
[_The MAGISTRATE shakes his head doubtfully.
The PRIEST puzzles more than ever, seeking
to place the Stranger. Meanwhile, the banquet,
which has been progressing in a spirit of true
democracy, has come to an end._]
THE YOUNG SLAVE.
[_Addressing the FRIEND._]
With love love to requite, our lives are yours!
Ask what you will! [_The other SLAVES assent to this._]
THE OFFICIALS.
[_Prompt the FRIEND._]
Bid them the work complete!
THE YOUNG SLAVE.
Even to that last bitterness his voice,
Tender as heaven’s mercy that you preach [_To the PRIEST_]
Shall nerve our flagging courage. Where he leads
Blindly we follow, knowing him our friend!
[_The other SLAVES assent, while all marvel at
this change._]
THE FRIEND.
[_To the SLAVES._]
First voice your trouble. Give it words. Wherefore
Ye fear this grey old mountain? See where wait
In kindness all your friends ... the Magistrate,
And all who love ye, judging not!
THE MAGISTRATE.
[_Smiles._]
How well
My thought unspoken reads he!
THE OTHERS IN AUTHORITY.
Mine as well!
THE YOUNG SLAVE.
Then let my mother’s mother tell the tale
As she has told it me!
[_The OLD SLAVE WOMAN is thrust forward._]
THE MAGISTRATE.
[_Handing her to a seat._]
Good dame, your years
Entitle you to ease!... So, now; your tale!
THE OLD SLAVE WOMAN.
Long years gone by ... Oh, years agone, when Decius was Cæsar, monster
bloodthirsty....
MARTINUS.
Horns, tail, had he, cleft foot, and spat he flames?
And munched and crunched the bones of little boys?
THE OLD SLAVE WOMAN.
My mother’s mother told me not. She had it from her mother’s mother.
She from her mother’s mother. She....
THE MAGISTRATE.
[_Kindly._]
Pray you, skip antecedent mothers!
THE OLD SLAVE WOMAN.
Hard was the heart of Decius, hard, hard,
Stone-hard!... Who loved the Christos whom we love
He hated, had them beaten, burned alive,
Or thrown to hungry lions!
[_Enthralled, the CHILDREN exclaim._]
Even so,
Children as you are, too!
THE SCHOOLMASTER.
In terms precise
The edict reads....
ALL.
Oh, hush!
THE OLD SLAVE WOMAN.
Seven there were ...
Of names and years like yours! [_To the SCHOOLBOYS._]
One, Constantine,
A slave-boy, noble though by birth and soul.
Then Dion, splendid, athlete; Maximus
His dearest rival; then a widow’s son
Martinus; next Ioannes, orphan he.
And Malchus with a fowl. Thrice he denied
His Lord, repented of it, though. And last
Wee Serapíon with a halting foot!
All Christians!
MALCHUS.
[_In all good faith._]
Was the fowl a Christian too?
THE OLD SLAVE WOMAN.
[_In equally good faith._]
That surely!... Fled these seven boys by night,
Beyond the city gates, sought refuge here,
Right on this spot. Within a cave they hid!
Then came the soldiers and the furied mob,
And walled them in alive with heaped-up stones,
And here alive they bide till Judgment-Day!
[_This produces a great sensation, though many
seem to pooh-pooh the tale._]
And still their chanting voices may you hear,
Give Glory to the Father, to the Son,
And to the Holy Spirit.... Three in One!
[_She pauses, impressively, and indeed at this
moment may be heard a sweet, faint sound, as
of boys’ voices, seeming to issue from the
mountain._]
THE PRIEST.
’Tis the Cathedral choir that practises!
THE SCHOOLMASTER.
Thus fact of fantasy disposes, mocks
An old wife’s tale!
THE OLD SLAVE WOMAN.
I give you what I heard!
If it displease you, punish me ... but not
My boy, my Constantine!... If proof you lack
Another stone rolled down, rough-hewn will show
A cross to mock their sleeping-place!
THE SCHOOLMASTER.
[_Seizing a tool._]
Deathblow
To fiction, first am I to strike!
THE PRIEST.
[_Also seizing a tool._]
So I
To superstition!
THE MAGISTRATE.
[_Doing the same._]
I to mutiny!
[_Assisted by willing hands the three roll down
the stone indicated by the old SLAVE WOMAN.
As the cloud of dust it raises subsides a
cry arises from all, for on the side of the
mountain thus exposed is seen rough-hewn a
cross. All now hasten to clear away the rubble
beneath this, and soon the entrance to a cave
is visible. A ray of light, as from a sunbeam,
falls athwart this opening, whereupon there is
a faint cock-crow within the cave. So great a
panic does this cause that most of the people
run away, the MAGISTRATE, the PRIEST, and the
SCHOOLMASTER in the lead. Only the SCHOOLBOYS
remain with the FRIEND. Then, one by one the
people creep back, the OLD SLAVE WOMAN and
her grandson first, and the officials last
and most cautiously of all._]
THE SEVEN SLEEPERS.
[_Within the cave call one to another._]
What, ho! ’Tis morning! See the sun hath risen!
[_One by one yawning and stretching they come
from the cave._]
CONSTANTINE [_the Sleeper_].
After night’s tempest, ah, how sweet the morn!
But ... what a change! All hushed the frenzied din
That rent the skies of yesterday! No more
The market-place runs blood, with fire and sword
As man hunts down his fellow-creatures! Calm
The city rests, and rises like a song
The hum of gently avocationed lives
And happy people! And ... surely I dream!
Above the city gate a cross ... the cross
Of Christos ... Him for love of whom we fled,
Were prisoned here last night!
[Illustration: “What, ho! ’tis morning! See, the Sun hath risen.”]
THE SCHOOLMASTER.
[_Explaining._]
That night, how long!
A century and half a century!
[_All hush him, though the young SLEEPER seems
not to have heard him, nor indeed to be aware
that others are present._]
IOANNES [_the Sleeper_].
[_Coming forth._]
Let’s to the river and skip oyster-shells,
Or sail our galleys! ’Tis a holiday.
’Tis Artemision!
THE PRIEST.
[_Kindly correcting._]
Come, come, my child;
Forbear such terms and call it Easter!
[_The other watchers silence him, though still
the SLEEPERS fail to notice them._]
DION [_the Sleeper_].
[_Coming forth._]
Fine weather for the games! Ho, Maximus!
I’ll race you to the city gate and back!
MAXIMUS [_the Sleeper_].
[_Coming forth._]
Wait, Dion, till I get my breath! [_Yawns._] How stiff
My muscles! [_Stretching._]
DION AND MAXIMUS [_the Schoolboys_].
[_Advancing with outstretched hands._]
Dion and Maximus,
Even as we, come to the stadion!
[_But the others fail to see them or to heed
the invitation._]
MARTINUS [_the Sleeper_].
[_Coming forth._]
That loaf of bread my mother sent me for
I was forgetting it! That tetradrachm
She bade me change, where is it?... I forgot!
At flipcoin lost I it to Malchus!
MARTINUS [_the Schoolboy_].
Just
As I did!
MALCHUS [_the Sleeper_].
[_Coming forth, carrying a basket._]
Here, Martinus! Take your coin!
We slept on it, Aléxandros and I!
Your mother’s is it, so not yours to lose,
Nor mine to win!
MARTINUS [_the Sleeper_].
[_Accepting the coin the other holds out to him._]
I thank you, Malchus!
MALCHUS [_the Schoolboy_].
I,
Too, thank you, namesake mine! Martinus, here!
Take back your mother’s tetradrachm!
MARTINUS [_the Schoolboy_].
[_Accepting the coin his friend holds out to
him._]
Malchus,
I say, that’s fine!
SERAPÍON [_the Sleeper_].
My Æsop’s fables must I get by heart! “A nightingale
did sing ... did sing ... did sing....”
SERAPÍON [_the Schoolboy_].
[_Prompting._]
“When hungry hawk espied her!” My name is Serapíon,
too!
SERAPÍON [_the Sleeper_].
[_Seeing him._]
Oh, what a funny looking little boy!
SERAPÍON [_the Schoolboy_].
Funny looking yourself! I knew more of the fable than
you did, anyway!
SERAPÍON [_the Sleeper_].
[_To his fellows._]
Look! A little boy!... And, oh, crowds and crowds
of people!
THE OTHER SLEEPERS.
No, dear child! There’s no one but ourselves!
SERAPÍON [_the Sleeper_].
But I see them clearly!... Come and play with me!
[_To the other SERAPÍON._]
SERAPÍON [_the Schoolboy_].
[_Timidly advancing._]
I’d like to, but ... somehow ... you seem ... not real.... No, I don’t
mean that! But just as if you came out of a dream!
SERAPÍON [_the Sleeper_].
Dream yourself! Why, as I look at you you fade and fade away ... and
now I don’t see you at all!... Constantine, is it true we shall be put
to death for loving Christos?
THE OTHER SLEEPERS.
[_Suddenly recalling their plight._]
Aye; truth is it, or dream?
CONSTANTINE [_the Sleeper_].
Dream of a night
Forever vanished!... Listen to the song
Praising the God of Love!
[_Clear and sweet rises the sound of the Gloria.
The SLEEPERS, rejoicing, seek to join in it,
but their voices fail them._]
SERAPÍON [_the Sleeper_].
Home ... then may we go home?
THE OTHER SLEEPERS.
Home! That’s the word!
May we go home?
[_The FRIEND stands forth, and a radiance comes
from him. CONSTANTINE the Sleeper sees him,
and exclaims, joyfully._]
CONSTANTINE [_the Sleeper_].
Home, home! Here is a friend
Will guide us!
[_THE FRIEND passes quietly from the scene, a
light streaming from the direction he has
taken. THE SLEEPERS stretch their hands toward
him, with a joyful cry._]
THE SEVEN SLEEPERS.
Lead, Master! We follow ... follow ... home!