Early Plays - Catiline, the Warrior's Barrow, Olaf Liljekrans Part 8

CETHEGUS. You mean to go away?

CATILINE. This very night my wife and I together Shall bid farewell to Rome forevermore.

In quiet Gaul we two shall found a home;-- The land I cultivate shall nourish us.

CETHEGUS. You will forsake the city, Catiline?

CATILINE. I will; I must! Disgrace here weighs me down.

Courage I have to bear my poverty, But in each Roman face to read disdain And frank contempt--! No, no; that is too much!

In Gaul I'll live in quiet solitude; There shall I soon forget my former self, Dull all my longings for the greater things, And as the vaguest dream recall the past.

LENTULUS. Then fare you well; may fortune follow you!

CETHEGUS. Remember us with kindness, Catiline, As we shall you remember! To our brothers We will relate this new and strange resolve.

CATILINE. Then give them all a brother's hearty greeting!

[LENTULUS and CETHEGUS leave.]

[AURELIA has entered from the side, hut-stops frightened at the sight of those who are leaving; when they are gone she approaches CATILINE.]

AURELIA. [Gently reprimanding.]

Again these stormy comrades in your house?

O Catiline--!

CATILINE. This was their final visit.

I bade them all farewell. Now every bond Forevermore is broken that bound me fast And fettered me to Rome.

AURELIA. I've gathered up Our bit of property. Not much perhaps;-- Yet, Catiline, enough for our contentment.

CATILINE. [Engrossed in thought.]

More than enough for me who squandered all.

AURELIA. Oh, brood no more on things we can not change;-- Forget what--

CATILINE. Happy he who could forget,-- Who could the memory tear from out his soul, The many hopes, the goal of all desires.

Ah, time is needed ere I reach that state; But I shall struggle--

AURELIA. I shall help you strive; You shall be comforted for all your loss.

Yet we must leave as soon as possible.

Here life calls to you with a tempter's voice.

Is it not so,--we go this very night?

CATILINE. Yes, yes,--we leave this very night, Aurelia!

AURELIA. The little money left I've gathered up; And for the journey it will be enough.

CATILINE. Good! I shall sell my sword and buy a spade.

What value henceforth is a sword to me?

AURELIA. You clear the land, and I shall till the soil.

Around our home will grow in floral splendor A hedge of roses, sweet forget-me-nots, The silent tokens of a chastened soul, When as some youthful comrade you can greet Each memory recurrent of the past.

CATILINE. That time, Aurelia? Ah, beloved, I fear-- That hour lies in a distant future's keeping.

CATILINE. [In a milder tone.]

But go, dear wife, and, while you may, repose.

Soon after midnight we shall start our journey.

The city then is lapped in deepest slumber, And none shall guess our hidden destination.

The first glow in the morning sky shall find us Far--far away; there in the laurel grove We'll rest ourselves upon the velvet gra.s.s.

AURELIA. A new life opens up before us both-- Richer in happiness than this that's ended.

Now will I go. An hour's quiet rest Will give me strength--. Good-night, my Catiline!

[She embraces him and goes out.]

CATILINE. [Gazes after her.]

Now is she gone! And I--what a relief!

Now can I cast away this wearisome Hypocrisy, this show of cheerfulness, Which least of all is found within my heart.

She is my better spirit. She would grieve Were she to sense my doubt. I must dissemble.

Yet shall I consecrate this silent hour To contemplation of my wasted life.-- This lamp,--ah, it disturbs my very thoughts;-- Dark it must be here,--dark as is my soul!

[He puts out the light; the moon s.h.i.+nes through the pillars in the rear.]

CATILINE.

Too light,--yes, still too light! And yet, no matter;-- The pallid moonlight here does well befit The twilight and the gloom that shroud my soul,-- Have ever shrouded all my earthly ways.

CATILINE. Hm, Catiline, then is this day your last; Tomorrow morning you will be no longer The Catiline you hitherto have been.

Distant in barren Gaul my life shall run Its course, unknown as is a forest stream.-- Now am I wakened from those many visions Of power, of greatness, of a life of deeds;-- They vanished like the dew; in my dark soul They struggled long and died,--unseen of men.

CATILINE. Ah, it is not this dull and drowsy life, Far from all mundane tumult, that affrights me.

If only for a moment I could s.h.i.+ne, And blaze in splendor like a shooting star,-- If only by a glorious deed I could Immortalize the name of Catiline With everlasting glory and renown,-- Then gladly should I, in the hour of triumph, Forsake all things,--flee to a foreign strand;-- I'd plunge the dagger in my exiled heart, Die free and happy; for I should have lived!

CATILINE. But oh,--to die without first having lived.

Can that be possible? Shall I so die?

[With uplifted hands.]

CATILINE. A hint, oh angry powers,--that it is My fate to disappear from life forgotten, Without a trace!

FURIA. [Outside behind the pillars.] It is not, Catiline!

CATILINE. [Taken aback.]

Who speaks? What warning voice is this I hear?

A spirit voice from out the underworld!

FURIA. [Comes forward in the moonlight.] I am your shadow.

CATILINE. [Terrified.] What,--the vestal's ghost!