And you, faithful Reader, shall watch it blossom with me.
The Apology of
Cleomysthenes
King, do you
ask for my counsel, or my consent?
If it is a word
that will move this war-council then
I say: “Seize,
and lay the arms that need not glisten
With blood,”
and the cursed enterprise forsake now.
But if you ask
me to my word bind to this fool war,
How can I, if I
must write it in my blood, affirm it,
By the flight
of three souls instead of mine alone,
Such pledge
terrible make good with unholy acts?
For I must
think thrice now, King, I who am bound
By golden chain
I wear with joy, the chain of children
That God
imposed to temper my anger, check my fever
Words of state
let fall slowly, and order with thought.
When I was
young, unlimited by fear and my sons,
I would first
succumb to zest of war, and behind my
Warlord march
to slay the faceless Enemy, make fall
Their crested
helmets in my fury, partake of their life.
But now even in
those boys impressed to serve I see
My children,
and think of their fathers, the pains to
Raise them
exerted by their mothers, and dare to
Think I would
hesitate, and bring ridicule upon you.
How easy is it
to spend the public coin! How freely
At war’s demand
do treasure and children flow, to be
Wasted in the
fire of the frenzy, the men ordered
To ope their
veins at the touch of the enemy’s sword!
Far away they
will be in a stranger land, as their life
Drips upon the
burning sands, far from the wails of
My wife, the
stream of tears with which I shall anoint them,
but will not be
even able to cover with home-ground.
Shall your
majesty exert the duress of law? Shall your
Men seize my
children, pry them from their wives,
Orphan my
grandchildren and twist consent from my
Mouth? All this
save the last you can force right now.
But beware:
should you compel, I here resign my office,
The trust I
enjoyed until this final test. For no office
Is worth so
high a price, the price of progeny’s blood,
No land of mine
can so demand, such house I shake now.
If you will not
grant me exile, I shall myself decree we go,
Found a new
home in those far-off sands, which seem
By instant more
and more like our destined country,
The foes you
invented, and that plain show our iniquity.
Behold! Now I
raise arms only to defend what my King
Eternal had
given in trust, made holy by the justice of
A father’s
love. In all else I promote the peaceful art,
Which of men is
hallmark, or discharge from the court.
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