[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.]
[Coming forth.]
Let’s to the river and skip oyster-shells,
Or sail our galleys! ’Tis a holiday.
’Tis Artemision!
[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.]
[Coming forth.]
Fine weather for the games! Ho, Maximus!
I’ll race you to the city gate and back!
[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.]
[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].
[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!
[Accepting the coin the other holds out to him.]
I thank you, Malchus!
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!
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!
[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!
[To his fellows.]
Look! A little boy!... And, oh, crowds and crowds
of people!
No, dear child! There’s no one but ourselves!
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!
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?
[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.]
Home ... then may we go home?
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.]
Lead, Master! We follow ... follow ... home!
[Even while speaking they sink down on the ground near the cave, and close their eyes as if in sleep. The Emperor
and his suite approach, as if they had been looking on, near by, and fall reverently on their knees, their example being followed by the multitude, while the chant rises ever more clear and sweet. The Seven Schoolboys pluck brightly flowering branches and lay these beside the Sleepers and shower blossoms over them. And so the scene fades from our sight.]